Could I live without it?

I've been thinking about personal expectations versus reality, and how we run into trouble when they do not match up with each other. God bless the volunteers that come to help out at the daycare, but in the past couple of weeks I've seen a tragic mis-match between expectations and reality, leading to anger and frustration! Volunteers arrive expecting to be the best helpers ever in the classroom (e.g. heroes/saviors), overestimating their skills, and then are disappointed when they feel 'underutilized' because our teachers actually are competent at their jobs? Or they expect everything to be really easy and effortless, when they haven't taken the time to learn Spanish, so they get mad that they can't understand the teachers and kids, or can't express themselves? I dunno, sometimes it just baffles me, but then I have to remember that it's a universal, human thing to have unrealistic expectations.

In moving here to Mexico I think I underestimated the adjustments that I would have to make in living here. I figured that since I was still in North America, basically surrounded by a ton of (retired) Americans, it wouldn't be that much different from being home in the States. And it's been a journey but I'm finally acknowledging that it's a big change, and there are going to be things I'm just going to have to get used to living without, since I'm here instead of there!

I've been thinking about self-deprivation and self-denial a bit...also, delayed gratification. It's been interesting trying to budget here, and I'm doing lots of 'Is it worth it?' calculations every time I go to the store. When I was here three years ago I denied myself a lot of things because I wanted to be frugal. I had a truly terrible diet of cereal for dinner, or maybe scrambled eggs. Granted, I was 20 years old and couldn't cook for sh1t. This time around, I'm allowing myself the luxuries of cooking real meals (chicken teriyaki, spaghetti, curry) with relatively expensive ingredients (mirin, spaghetti sauce, brown rice, sesame oil), but am still trying to be fiscally conservative.

Frugality can get to the point where nearly every decision is rendered an act withholding pleasure (in the form of purchasing nicer things)--and it can almost become a prison or a punishment.

I could attempt to live a 'simple' life in solidarity with my Mexican co-workers, opting for less extravagances as to be more 'authentic' or whatever. But I'm realizing more and more how much class privilege has spoiled me, and how much I have internalized the consumerist values of the United States. I actually do feel unhappy without the 'creature comforts' (and more) that I had back home. Should I feel ashamed about this? I don't know. Should I just suck it up and stop whining like a first-world a-hole? Maybe.

Yesterday I treated myself to four nice things:

1. four pairs of leggings (at 50 pesos each) to keep warm at night (no central heating here),
2. four pairs of long socks (also for the cold), 
3. strawberries (what a treat!) and 
4. pan dulce from the bakery down the street (I usually just try and wait until it's served for breakfast at the daycare). 

The truth is that buying these things for myself notably lifted my mood. So indulging my consumerist shopping withdrawals in 'moderation' has proven quite helpful. I think it will be a constant negotiation from here on our as to whether I can 'live without' something, or if it's worth it to indulge a little, and through that indulgence, enjoy a little bit of happiness, too. 

Dia de los Muertos

Alfeñiques made of sugar to put on altars honoring the dead.

Dapper Dani.

Bailando en el patio.

Mari Chuy and Zoe all dressed up.

Aldo being his amazing self.

Whimsical filo dough at Cafe Lavanda. 

Desfile de la Catrinas

Convivencia

Although only a couple of months have passed for me in San Miguel de Allende, I've been surprised at the many opportunities I've had to spend quality time with the people around me. It's been really nice.

This past Thursday one of the teachers, Vero, celebrated her birthday at her house, inviting all of the staff at the daycare and a few of the moms. Each person brought what they could: fried pig skin, raw pig skin, pretzel-like sticks, doritos, pico de gallo, shredded cabbage, pop, beer, and cake. While the women worked together to prepare the food, chatting the whole time, the young children played in the yard, running around and screaming with delight. It reminded me so much of the house parties I attended growing up, full of laughter and good food and good conversation. I felt so honored to be a part of the celebration, because besides Carolyn (the former Volunteer Coordinator), I was the only non-Mexican there! It was so fun to spend time with the teachers and moms outside of the daycare setting, and the atmosphere was so happy and bright.

There have also been some good times of convivencia with the volunteers as well. I'm amazed at how thoughtful, inquisitive and intelligent they all seem to be. I suppose it's because they are all international travelers, but they have a perspective of the world that isn't quite so insulated and ignorant as the average American's, so it's quite refreshing. Whether sitting around the living room talking about different countries' university entrance requirements or sun bathing on the roof chatting about the true meaning of happiness (and its connection to wealth, access to health care and education, etc.), I get really excited thinking that this is part of my 'job.'

Even at the gym I'm starting to feel more at home. While Andreas was here I started going with him six times a week, and now feel welcome and a gusto there. The owner, Beto, greets me by name and since Andreas left has had to help spot me or correct me so I don't injure myself. While I'm resting we chat about the weather and other random stuff. And otherwise, since it's such a small gym, I see the same six or seven people whenever I go and they all seem pretty nice.

It's so different living in such a relatively 'small' town (population 70,000 versus 3.26 million in Seattle). When I'm at the market I'll see Sai (one of the two-year olds in Maestra Diana's class) walking with his Dad hand in hand. Or yesterday after the gym Laura (a volunteer from Denmark) and I went to buy some miniature ofrendas made of sugar and walking by a cake shop I saw Alexa (another two-year old in Diana's class) sitting on a stool, and said hello. "Look who it is!" she yelled to her mom, who came out to chat for a bit. When I was working in Seattle, I thought it was a lot to be in the street and see someone I knew once, maybe twice a month. Here, I barely go out, but I almost always see someone I know! It's definitely different from what I'm used to, but I think it's really cute and something that I could learn to appreciate.