Mexico Journal: July 8, 2010

It is a rainy afternoon again. The weariness of travel is hitting me. I feel (perhaps unreasonably so) as if my presence is a burden on others. I would like to disappear, not feel so defensive. The last few days have been lost in sleeping late watching the World Cup at Bar Revolución and wandering around the markets: vegetable (popular) and Santo Domingo (hippie). I have genuinely been content to do this, but the truth is I. is missing. I miss her smell, and ache for her hard little hot-potato body kicking at me in midnight sleep fits after she has snuck into my bed.

I haven't been dreaming, not that I can recall anyway, but last night was restful both to my mind and body. After an intensely close initial approximation, Manuel has been pushing away, pushing my buttons, too. Yesterday I snapped because I felt very hurt, and tired of defending myself from attack. It is strange, of course... as family lore goes, I've never been good at taking teasing, and I suppose that's true... but especially now I feel sensitive. I feel angry too, not at Manuel, of course, but rather at M. and I think that the tears that began in hurt turned to tears of rage. M. is getting married in a week. Great! I wish him luck in his endeavors, but here's where the anger comes in: for the last 5 years of my life any time that he has even suspected I might be involved with someone, he was cruel, jealous and angry to the point of making it difficult for me to both maintain the relationship (whichever one it was) and his relationship with his daughter. Yet, here I am, handing over my little girl happily and with no drama (The drama is still all his). It feels so unjust.

So Manuel found me crying in the room that I am sharing with Jorge (who returned with Karla before she had to depart) and he apologized. I appreciated the gesture, but I feel now very unstable in my position. I don't want to bother him and Pedro, whose relationship with Jorge is 8 years in the making. What at once felt comfortable now feels strained to me. He said he feels uncomfortable when people get too close, too fast, which is a legitimate feeling, but my only reaction, then, is to retrreat. Retract into myself and hope for some respite.

Last night, after taking a walk alone (and having a little wine that Jorge so kindly bought me) I pulled myself together and we all went to the Centro. We had some nachos and they all drank mezcal and mojitos, but I just chilled, a little inside myself. We hung with Aline, a girl from Río who we keep running into, and her friend Caro, who is here from Guadalajara, working with comunidades doing lombricultura.

Pedro and Manuel had their jarana and requinto and they played for the sidewalk passersby. It helped me forget my hurt feelings for a while. Pedro's voice is marvelous and his recall of lyrics is truly exceptional. He is a hard nut to crack. I enjoy conversing with him and I feel respected and listented to, but at the same time he is funny and open, there is a solid wall around his core. There's no reason, I suppose, that I should be granted access to that interior, but the fact that it is so cleanly and clearly denied me provokes something in me, a sort of a challenge or fascination. In any case, I had a good time listening and watching the street fill and empty with people who stopped to dance, to clap, to sing along. I joined in a little, but it is generally hard for me to feel comfortable. Sigh.

Today was good though, calm, plenty of alone time. I slept late and Jorge and I made a large breakfast. Emel and Iván were out at work, but we did get to hang out, just me and them, later in the night which was a treat. I really like them, and spending time just talking is the only real way to build friendships. I hope to be friends with them in the years to come.

We made eggs (a la mexicana: chile, tomato, onion sauteed), mushroom and epazote quesadillas, tortillas with crema (like creme fraiche) queso semiduro (de rancho), chipotle, avocado and black beans. We also had delicious café de olla and fresh mango. My stomach is still less than happy and I am kicking myself for having eaten fruit from the market (apples and nance) without washing. On the other hand, I have been eating bread for a few days and that could also be a cause for my intestinal unhappiness.

So, the afternoon was spent playing a "cascarita" (pick up soccer) with the boys, I even took a few dives in a goal and generally wore myself out running around. After a shower, the guys took off and Emel and Iván too, so I just got to chill, listening to the rain, cooking beans, tidying up and chatting on Skype with Cheyla and Kirsten.

I told Cheyla about my visit with Nacho and she was wishing she could have a visit with him too. (He came from Tuxtla Gutiérrez the other day to see me and we had a lovely afternoon of football and lunch together). It is late and I hear the happy voices of the revellers. So it is time to go to bed.