im not dead, i promise

First off, thank you so much for all of your comments. I love reading them and I wish there were a way for me to respond to each one. Carrie I think I might have forgotten to email you? Consider this your personal shout out.

I hear there are concerns that I am dead. I can almost assure you I am not, but came very close to hell in these last few days. By hell, I mean to say a little town called Pichucalco, Chiapas.

A few days ago Edwin´s friend called him telling him there was possibly work available for him in this city, Pichucalco and that we were to go immediately the next day (tuesday). All I could get out of him was that this city was like an old west town, everyone sitting around dying of heat and hardly any activity at all. His brother told me ¨no, no, its a METROPOLIS! youre going to love the nightclubs!!¨ Okay, he lied.

We took the 9 AM bus expecting to get there by 1....On the way I ate empanadas whose memory has continued to linger threateningly inside me now for a few days to the point of me taking parasite pills. Anyway, Edwin tends to not tell me what I am getting myself into, and I had no idea that I was in store for the most beautiful, green, tropical mountainous busride of my entire life. It was lovely with jungle smells and beautiful crystal rivers, similar to the billboards all over the rest of the country urging polution breathing chilangos to take a break in ¨la naturaleza¨of chiapas. Apparently not many gringas get on this Tuxtla to Pichucalco bus because I got quite a few looks from startled children and even a few stares from their respective mothers, who came from little bitty jungle towns.

Little bitty jungle towns in the middle of a boiling inferno of heat that I can not adequately describe to you. In Tuxta its hot, its like sitting close to a fire sometimes. In Pichucalco its like the fireplace is giving you a hug and maybe even a few unwanted kisses that you just are going to have to accept. ¨theres no buts about it¨says Pichucalco. Not even at midnight, not at sunrise, this is a constant heat. When we staggered to the ice cream the boy working there told us that a nearby town was even hotter. ¨here,¨he said, ´your sweat just rises to the top in little droplets... there the sweat just rolls right off of you.¨

Ive never spent so much energy trying not to complain, trying to repeat to myself that sweat is a natural process of my body that I should appreciate. ¨look how cool it makes you feel...neat, huh?¨ I said to myself. Then I immediately disagreed and went back into the air conditioned hotel to watch endless hours of national geographic documentaries about jaguars attacking humans and the show trading spaces in spanish.

A person of better character would stop complaining at this point. Luckily, I am not this person. On our way out of that city we took a bus. This bus seemed fine. However, this bus in fact had a giant broken wheel and at least 15 extra passengers. We were stuck for maybe an hour in this bus, inhaling the heavy breathing of each other, grumbling at the windows not opening, and watching 2 little boys help a sweat bathed man change the enormous tire. I might have passed out, I dont remember, when they borded the tire right up on the bus with us the seat behind me and we were off on our curvy mountain road way. Soon we stopped again, for over an hour, because, according to our ill luck, they decided that would be a good day to tear down the mountain. We got out of the bus and watched as this machine busted this mountain and tons of people in there cars just resorted to turning of the engine and going to sleep. Some lady vomited, they covered it with soap. oh my god, i think. i can do this. i need to jump out. ahhhhhh! luckily within 15 minutes we arrived back...home! Tuxtla Gutierrez! I promise Ill never complain about the heat again, as long as I live. Wait, make that, as long as I am not visiting bree in nicaragua! :)

but seriously, i can attest to the fact that 100 percent of the people on the bus were more patient than I am. I need to work on my patience skillz. I recognize, I am an American, I want my food fast, I dont put up with broken tires, I want direct highways not winding roads. I want people who throw up on my bus to be given a ticket or have some secret 500 dollar hoover vaccum device on each bus for cleaning up vomit.

This is what I am learning. I am learning spanish, I am learning patience. I am learning a lot about myself and how to not get mad at inconvenience depressed at sad things I see in the world, but to keep hope and a sense of humor.

Yesterday I went again to my favorite city, San Cristobal de las Casas, and there I ate humus and falafel and a mango margarita. yum! Its cold there and I love it. Today I am in Tuxtla again, and tomorrow I begin my central american journey to visit my friend Bree who lives in Managua, Nicaragua... and hopefully will become a more dedicated blogger. :) thanks, again, to all of you who are reading. you light up my life. truly.