Just to let everyone know, the pictures on the left are changed out whenever I update my web album so that the newest set is shown. If you want to see the others, just click on any picture in the slide show and it will take you to my Picasa web album page, where you will be able to find previous pictures.

Hope everyone is doing well -

Hasta luego,

John

After a night out in Puebla, I realized that I have a long task ahead of me for the next four months. This task is not exclusive to me, nor to Puebla, but I am sure that I will get my fair share of being questioned and/or attacked on US foreign policy, US Politics, racism in the U.S.A., school shootings, the constitution, why we shouldn’t use the word Americans in reference to ourselves only, and everything in between. Of course, U.S. and international media doesn’t make this task any easier, as misinformation is as abundant as stray dogs here in Mexico. When discussing the Virginia Tech shooting with a friend of my host-brother, a medical school student who has a better English vocabulary than I do, I was asked if I owned a gun. With a confused tone I replied “no, why would I”?

“Wow, an American who doesn’t own a gun!” he replied in a deep voice and atypical English pronunciation for a Mexican.

After this comment, I felt the need to explain the 2^nd amendment, the ongoing gun control debate, the NRA, state’s rights and the constitution, and the fact that occurrences such as what happened at Virginia Tech aren’t as common as they are perceived to be. Of course, this isn’t an isolated incident, as earlier in the night a group consisting of myself, two Mexicans and two English girls discussed foreign policy over a couple of chequileros, a drink consisting of tequila, beer, tomato juice and chili powder (which I do not recommend to anyone). Fortunately, the Brits were there to take some of the heat which allowed me to sneak off and poor it out without any grief.

The point is that studying/being abroad automatically makes you a quasi-diplomat. No matter if you want to talk about these topics or not, they are going to be there, and you better be sharp and thick skinned or else you’re going to be frustrated. Of course, I don’t mind talking about any of these things since I study them anyway. However, it is a daunting task to inform all of those who are misinformed, and I don’t believe it’s a task that I nor anyone else studying abroad is obligated to do, but it doesn’t hurt to tell the other side of the story to those who are already listening.

P.S - You can click on the pictures in the slide show to make them bigger

All in all, the trip to Mexico and Puebla went well, besides the fact that sleep wasn't really a luxury I had. We left Fayetteville at 445 AM, and with a couple of short stops we arrived in Charlotte around 8AM. After saying goodbye to the family, I boarded the flight to Mexico City, where I arrived after 3 hours and 57 minutes of watching (luckily you didn't have to listen) Samantha Brown's Travel Trivia on the 1980's tv monitors aboard the plane.

After the plane landed, I passed through customs, an interesting task to perform as there are absolutely no directions on how to do so, and, such as my case, the informers give you the wrong sheet to fill out. Then, after stumbling my way through asking directions to the bus terminal inside of the airport, I began my wait for Phil, my friend who was supposed to meet me in the airport at 3, after his flight landed at 220. After a couple of conversations in which I continued my stumbling, I realized that it was 330 and time to find Phil. I decided to wait in front of the customs terminal which he would be exiting, and after reading arribado on the screen, I figured it wouldn't be long until I saw him walk out, easily recognized by the bicycle he was supposed to be carrying.

As I stood there waiting, beginning to think that the weight of my bags would give me lifelong backproblems, I looked at my phone and saw it was 445. I debated whether or not to leave Phil and head on to Puebla before it got too late and dark, as I knew that he had the hotel information and could find his way without me. I reached my decision around 5 and went to the bus terminal to buy a ticket for the next bust to Puebla. After realizing from the woman at the ticket counter that poco inglés really means poco, I hopped on the bus at 510, talked with a girl from Australia (who had just as long as a day as me due to the tranquilidade at the Brazilian embassy), and fell asleep until we reached the 4 Ponientes bus station.

After much smoother conversation with the front desk workers in the beautiful Holiday Inn in the Centro Historico (it used to be a colonial mansion) and dinner in a department store/restaurant called VIPS (pronounced veeps, not V.I.P's), I recieved an e-mail from Phil saying that he had the flight never took off from Nashville due to engine probelms, and didn't make it to Mexico. It was a good decision to leave D.F. after all, and after a long day of traveling, I watched a little bit of the Fiesta Bowl in spanish (a little ironic?) feeling like I had accomplished something, and fell asleep.