Un viaje a la bella ciudad de Merida

April 1, 2009

Our good friend, Miguel has been invited by our boss to visit the United States. He asked us to accompany him on his trip to the American Consulate in Merida in the state of Yucatan. This was a pretty quick trip; he asked us to go with him on Sunday and we left Tuesday. No big deal; it's only a few hours away. His appointment at the Consulate was scheduled for 8:30 in the morning, which meant we could either get up ridiculously early and drive all morning, or we could stay with a pastor in the Merida area. We opted for the latter, which led to this mini-adventure.

We left about 2:00 Tuesday afternoon. Earlier that day I was trying to figure out how I was going to dress. Because the churches are more traditional here, women usually wear skirts or dresses. That's no big deal to me, it's a lot cooler. My dilema was that we were going to a pastor's house, but it wasn't a ministry visit, it was more social (so I thought). So I opted for the jeans, and stupidly didn't even think to pack a skirt. You'd think after living here for almost 10 months I would be used to suprises and prepare for anything.

About two hours into the trip Miguel says (he hasn't said one word since we got in the car, by the way), "the pastor said that if you guys would like to say a few word or preach...," he laughs and makes a joke about preaching and teaching (those are a couple of his English words). "So do you want to preach?" I'm beginning to squirm for two reasons: 1- this means I have to translate, 2- I didn't come prepared with "church-clothes"! I'm lucky that I even brought soap! Jonathon, of course, agrees. He's not going to give up a chance to talk (and he really is a good speaker- just so you know)! So I figure I've got to get over it because we're two hours into the trip, no turning back, and I'm not going to spend the enitre evening looking for a skirt. They'll just have to accept me for what I am...a bad translator wearing jeans!

We arrived at the pastor's house at about 5:30. They served us this delicious drink made from guanabana (you know the Muppet song that goes like "ma na ma na, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, ma na ma na"? Any Muppet fans out there? Gua na ba na, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo....maybe not.) They served it like a smoothie, except his wife crushed all the ice by hand! I heard her beating it to death in the kitchen! Anyway, guanabana, can't get enough of it. As I sipped my to-die-for guanabana, I couldn't help but wonder where in this tiny house were we going to sleep.

The house consisted of a living room, to the left the kitchen and to the right what looked like a bedroom. The walls of tiny living room were lined with books. They have a computer desk, a small bench and a chair all cammed together beneath the books in this tiny room (think small storage shed). Hanging on the wall was a neatly bundled hammock. It obviously served as someone's bed. They have at least two children, so one of them must sleep there. While my mind is wandering, I hear Miguel and the pastor discussing our accomodations. Miguel informs him that he brought his hammock, which is customary here (I believe). We've got a million hammocks sitting around the house, had we known that's what we were supposed to do we would have brought a couple! So now I'm thinking we're either on the floor or we're going to displace someone, which I do not want to do.

Miguel turns to us and says, "do you want to see where you are sleeping tonight?" Please. It turns out we're not staying at the pastor's house. We followed him as he zipped down the dark, cramped streets. We stopped in a neighborhood of what we would call "cookie cutter" houses. Some were brand new. We went into the house of a family that attends the pastor's church. They live in a two bedroom house and have three children. They're just as crowded than the pastor! On the inside I was totally freaking out. I didn't want to displace anybody and I was a little uncomfortable sleeping at someone's house (not that I think I'm too good for it, but this girl rarely stayed the night with friends as a kid...it's so stupid and bad for my "profession", but I get homesick at night!) After Miguel, the pastor, and the parishoner finish discussing logistics, I guess (remember- freaking out), they said, "do you prefer a bed or a hammock?" We really didn't care and before we could really answer Miguel told them that we were used to a bed and that it would be best. The parishoner said he didn't have an extra bed, but he knows someone with a bed but it might be difficult....and we stopped him there. "We'll take the hammocks!"

It turns out that we weren't sleeping at this guy's house either! Either he, or someone he knows owns the vacant house across the street. That's where we were staying! It would have saved me a lot of internal turmoil if someone had just told me that in the first place... but then it wouldn't be an adventure, right? They brought in the hammocks and almost crammed me and Jonathon into one. It was an extra toasty night (even the breeze was hot) and he's a sweaty boy....not going to happen. We got two.

Now, the art of sleeping in a hammock is difficult to achieve. One must examine others who are successfully sleeping in a hammock before trying it at home. The successful persons I have seen don't sleep in it lenghtwise. They spread it out sideways and strech out across it. If you sleep in it the other way, your arms and legs end up hanging off the sides and you get this big bump between your knees and where your head is. Not only do you sleep uncomfortably, but you also run a greater risk of falling on your face.

I am a pretty wierd kid. I am afraid of things that swing. I had a dream wierd when I was a kid and ever since I can't look at things that swing; I want to stop them (kids on swings, chandeliers, cords to fans, the big signs at wal-mart, all make me crazy). So sleeping in a hammock was difficult for me. I mananged to master the spreading out and getting comfortable, but every time I rocked just a little bit my brain would overreact and think that I was swinging at lightening speed! It's so crazy, I know. I finally managed to get over it and fall asleep. I can't say the same for poor little Jonny. He just could not figure out how to get into his hammock sideways. He saw what I was doing, and we've even had lessons at home (we've got 5 hanging on the roof)! I'm pretty sure at one point in the night he fell out. Needless to say, he didn't sleep so great.

We woke up ridiculously early this morning, before the roosters even. I had forgotten my alarm clock or even a watch, so I was paranoid all night that we would oversleep. We dropped Miguel off at the Consulate and wished him luck. The pastor from the church was kind enough to walk us around town and show us the sights. The city is absolutely gorgeous. All of the details on the buildings are just beautiful (some scary). To end the day we picked up a successful Miguel and took him to the "Plaza de las Americas" for a good ole, celebratory, American lunch at Chili's! I wish you could have seen Miguel and the pastor eating ribs... quite possibly the funniest thing I've seen in a while! Of course, they get tickled at the way we eat their food too!

Overall, good trip, Merida= beautiful and hammocks= not good sleep.
The end.