roller coaster

A couple roller coaster days. More pounding the pavement trying to find programs for the kids. Also spent 4 hours having the wonderful property manager, Veronica, drive me all over what are basically the outlying neighborhoods looking into other leads. A couple that might work, but not ideal, or just evening classes twice per week (like soccer or swimming). Examples – there is a program up in the mountains that sounds really neat, but you ship your kids off on a bus at 8:30 in the morning and they are sent home at 2:30 pm. I’m just not comfortable sending my 4-year-old on something like than in a foreign country, despite all her preschool experience. Another program runs for 3 weeks at this HUGE “MacroCentro” state sports complex, also a ways out of town. I’m talking a 50-m Olympic pool, an Olympic dive tank with platforms, and soccer, tennis, basketball, etc courts. It’s incredibly impressive, but also completely overwhelming. But if it would work for Lucas and Zeiva I’d be game. But it’s for 5 and up. They said they’d consider Zeiva on the second day of the program, but that it would be unlikely she could stay, in which case I’d have to pull them both out and start all over. And all the programs will have started elsewhere already. Another was out of town along this really horrible commercial strip (the “new” Guanajuato)– car dealerships, big warehouses, really dirty and dusty and loud. We took a peek at the outdoor part of the facility through the chain link because they were closed by the time we got there, and they had climbers that looked to be on thin green carpet over concrete. I certainly am hoping not to be an American snob while down here, but given the options I have seen (e.g., the MacroCentro), I know even folks down here have a range of choices in terms of where to send their kids. And while there is a range of cost as well, it’s not huge. The other challenging thing, from my American perspective, is that no one knows what a typical day will actually look like, and when I ask they literally say no, they won’t know until the first day of class. Because I’m thinking, well, I could bring them a little later, and help Zeiva get ready for swimming, and help her get dressed after and then send her off to futbol or lunch or whatever, you know? Add a little support from the sidelines occasionally while still letting her go off and get help from Lucas as well but also be independent when it was reasonable throughout the day. But no one can tell you anything about what the day will look like, other than the laundry list of activities they’ll do over the 2-4 weeks.

I definitely started to freak out (mentally, for the most part - on the outside I mostly was just impatient with the kids, which is lame) that I wasn’t going to find something – didn’t sleep at all that night. This was feeling like a huge mistake, the kids would never get immersed with Spanish peers, I’d be carting them around all day trying to keep them happy and active. We would have come all the way here for me to just solo-parent in a foreign place with no one I knew to hang out with - nightmare! Should we move somewhere closer to some of these other programs (e.g., the one in the mountains) so that I could shepherd the kids a bit more? Should we give up and go home? Ahhhh!!!

The next morning I called a number from a poster Veronica had seen and it is a summer program (4 weeks, the longest I’ve found) at a beautiful club that we’d visited on our wild goose chase the day before, where the woman at the entrance had said she didn’t know of any summer program and there was nothing posted so she didn’t think it was there (this is what we’re up against every time we talk to someone!). It is this incredible private club, an ex-hacienda of someone famous to Guanajuatans. I’ll send photos and more info when I have some (haven’t really been carrying a camera just yet). Obviously not for the regular population here, more for the elite. I saw more Caucasian Mexicans in the 15 minutes there than I have the week we’ve been walking all over central Guanajuato (where I’ve basically seen none – everyone is clearly of indigenous descent). It will also require a bus ride, which is a bit of a bummer for me personally, but it’s a small sacrifice to make for a program the kids can be in with other Mexican kids, in a nice, comfortable place with swimming, futbol, art, music, etc. Despite what the woman at the front kiosk said, the woman I called assured me the camp was there, I could register, it was designed for kids aged 4-10, etc. It sounds perfect! We got cut off while I was asking about the food provided, which I figured I could find out more about when I went to register so I didn’t bother trying to get a hold of her again, but she called me back! I was impressed….So we are supposed to be able to register at the club on Thursday evening.

I also got a call back after leaving a message (someone called me BACK!!) from a preschool that I’d figured was a dead end because they don’t have a school-age program, but it turns out that their summer program is for kids age 3-9, so Lucas can participate. It’s also not in el centro, so we’d have to bus as well, but it is a good back up, just in case. I’m not counting on anything until the program starts, and teachers show up and something actually happens in front of my eyes. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, that’s just the way it is…. But having those two options as seemingly viable plans took me from feeling like this might have been a complete bust (doubt demons dive bombing me again in full force) to euphoric – the universe is taking care of us! ;) I am a completely different person.

Let’s see, some random tidbits:

We’ve had water heater problems from day one, which continue to be frustrating and a hazard (it’s gas). They tried to fix it the day before yesterday, but the next day it was having the same problems. The pilot goes out, which is normally not a huge problem, but when it’s trying to heat the actual tank with a full flame, this means that the main flame goes out, too – leaving the gas to spew out at full force into the casita. Not good! So we just have the gas turned off unless we are deliberately trying to heat the tank for a shower. So far showers have been ice-cold or painfully hot – the valve at the shower doesn’t seem to actually regulate temperature. I’ve been filling bowls at the sink (where you can adjust temperature) and using those to shower the kids in the shower space. Except for the fact that we’re paying US (not Mexico) prices for this place, I actually don’t mind so much – it’s kind of fun.

The kids next door have one of these plastic inflatable balls (with Sponge Bob on it, of course) that our kids have been kicking around. I think the kid next door is pretty mellow and his version of kicking it around is about 10 notches down from Lucas and Zeiva. So when we saw a big bin of them at one of the big grocery stores (we’ve found a couple now), I bought one for Lucas (Sponge Bob, of course) and Zeiva (Mickey and Minnie mouse). I just bit my tongue, don’t worry. On day one of having the balls, they kicked one over the huge rock wall to the neighbors’. The next day I saw them coming out of the house, so I asked if we could go get the ball (everyone’s house is completely walled or gated off along our road). They were getting into their car and leaving, but they apologized that their dogs had completely destroyed the ball. Lo siento… Bummer, we’d just bought it that day. So I walked back to our house to let Lucas know and he’s standing by the wall and he says, “Did you see both balls, because I just accidentally kicked Zeiva’s ball over there, too!” Oops, both balls gone on day one. He was really sad, so against my nature, I told him we’d buy another round of balls but they couldn’t kick them over the wall! Deal. So I dug through the giant bin at the same store while the kids were in Spanish class and found – no joke – the last Sponge Bob and the last Mickey/Minnie Mouse balls. We brought them home and within ten minutes Lucas had pinched a hole in his on a cactus or a sharp rock. We decided these balls simply could not withstand the combination of Lucas and this environment!

Bedtimes have been nuts – after we’ve said our goodnights, they want books brought over to look at, water, chap stick, another chance to pee, bug bite medicine, another hug…stuff they haven’t pulled in years at home. So they are obviously a bit insecure, and a day hasn’t gone by without one of them hating it here and wanting to go home. Although on our walk back up the steep hill home today Zeiva and I had a very regular conversation that she started by asking, “Do we take a plane home tomorrow?” We talked about how it was going to be a while, and she said she wished we were going home tomorrow, that two months is a long time, but all very matter-of-factly. So I think there’s a lot of processing going on.

Prices

o    Bag of 10 fresh-baked rolls, a couple more baguettes and a litre of milk = $3

o    Huge stack of fresh corn tortillas = $1

o    1 pound of gorgeous strawberries from a street vendor = $1

o    Huge green peppers mounded up 3 feet tall on blankets on the sidewalk = 10 for $1

o    1 pound of steak (I don’t know the cuts of meat, but it tastes great) = $3.75

o    The summer program I talked about above (at the super swanky private club, keep in mind), including four weeks, M-F from 9 am to 2 pm = $160 per kid

Some photos below of our standard walk into town to Spanish class. 

This is the road that our casita is on - it heads uphill briefly to reach the ridge that rings the main part of town.

This is part of the view when you get to the ridge.

We’re taking more of a road for the first half of our descent into town instead of the traditional stairs because it spits us out much closer to the Spanish school. 

The road turns into a callejon, or alley - no vehicle access. The kids are really into these poses at the moment...

Here we're turning into an even narrower, steeper callejon, called Callejon del Caracol (alley of the snail), that we decided to explore on the way to class. Appropriately named - it was very twisty with extremely steep, narrow steps, many of which were broken. A little sketchy (just from a falling perspective) so we probably won't take this one again. Lucas took this photo - there is a lovely ceramic plaque above the arch that has the name.

Some very typical house color combinations!

Lucas and Zeiva at their Spanish school - Escuela Mexicana

As a treat, we took the “funicular” up the steepest part of the hill behind one of the major theatres in town. I guess this is a word in English, too, but I’d never heard of it. You can see the silver car, which carries about 6 people comfortably, half way up the track. This is the actual slope, I didn't tilt the camera any farther down. It’s pretty neat and the kids loved it. It runs the same as a taxi for all four of us – about $3 total. My mom has spoiled us with taxis back home – it will be a rude awakening for the kids when we have to start hoofing it back up the hill after she’s gone.

Lucas took a tumble on the sharp edges of tile steps (and they don’t do bullnose here!) on the way up the hill the first day in the rain, so he’s showing off his massive red-ringed bruises. He has a matching set on his shins.