We had a great last day – spent swimming and furiously reading a lot of Harry Potter #4 – though I don’t think we will finish it tonight.  We have about 6 chapters left.

We ate dinner at our favorite restaurant – La Squina.  We’ve eaten there, I think, 6-7 times.  Chocolate cake for dessert.  Yum.  The boys even got their own bottles of 7-Up.  (They are easily amused.)

So we closed out our travel journal today by listing what we ARE going to miss and what we are NOT going to miss about our summer in Guadalajara.  And the boys drew a picture of their favorite part of the summer.  (Not a lot of diversity there – we had two pools and a set of Legos.) 

But here are the lists, in case you are curious:

What we ARE going to miss:

Elliott: the hotel, our shoes*, peanut butter and jelly**

Isaac: our hotel, the pool, the toy store

Gustavo: the amusement park, the pool, going on a boat ride, going to new places

Mommy: pan dulce, chocolate ratoncitos, restaurants, lots of quiet, down time

What we are NOT going to miss:

Elliott: the beds, where my clothes are, shopping

Isaac: when I got hurt by the bumper cars

Gustavo: walking, going to stores

Mommy: the bed, the really cold pool, the kitchen, the stares, all the “newness”

*They have all worn out their tennis shoes so we are leaving them behind.  The boys are mourning this, like they mourn the loss of ANY spec of anything they think is theirs.

**Yes, we have PB and J at home.  But not everyday.  Like we’ve had here.   He is the ONLY one who will miss the daily PB and Js for lunch.  Trust me.

So that’s the end.  We’ve had a great time and hope to come back one day.

Thanks for reading.  Hope your summer was nice too.  And I will now let you waste time on the internet on other sites.

Oh wait…before you go…one more funny that happened just now before I could click “publish.”  The boys were watching TV while I was typing and Daddy was upstairs packing.  Keep in mind that I am right here on the couch next to them, of course.

Jarrod comes downstairs and snorts.  And then looks at my slyly and says, “Whatcha watching?”

I look up to say, “National Geographic.”  And go back to typing.

He leans over and whispers in my ear, “Did you see the title of this show?”

I said, “No.”

He says, “Sex on the Safari.”

I look up in time to see a Hyena spring into action.

Good grief!

(TV is now clicked off and teeth are being brushed.  And I’m happy to return to our TV-free life in about 24 hours.)

Good night.

• Traffic.  Driving here is a notch up from where I come from.  Not nearly as bad as the driving in Guatemala, but still a tad scarier than what I am used to.  The biggest difficulty (if I were attempting to drive here that is) is that nothing is marked.  Street signs are beautiful, and hidden on buildings behind trees.  Roads have no painted lane dividers.  So you might be going through a circle and there’s space for 4-6 cars to be side by side, and you can’t really see where exactly you should be.  This would terrify me if I attempted to drive here.  But it doesn’t seem to bother anyone here.  We’ve only seen one accident during the entire time we’ve been here.  And no one was hurt.
• Cars. Yes, we see vans and SUVs here – but they are certainly in the minority.  Most people seem to drive smaller cars – think Honda Civic size and smaller.  The boys noticed after a couple of weeks that we see NO big rigs here.  (Now, to be fair, we have seen a handful since they made that observation – but most of those were on the main road to Chapala when we left the city.)  I don’t know why this is, but it’s interesting.
• Race.  I’ve been waiting for this conversation since we got here.  And it happened tonight on the way home from the restaurant in the taxi:

Gustavo: Mommy…most of the people in Mexico have black hair like us.

Me: Yes.

G: And dark skin.

Me: Yes.  Are you thinking that you like being here where there are a lot of people who look a little like you?

G: Yes.  Not everyone does at home.

Isaac: (In the voice he uses that is a silly voice but really is his defense thing where he tries to sound silly because he’s nervous about what he is saying) I’m not going home.  I think I’m going to stay here where people look like me.

(Side note: People here don’t really look like him.  But I know what he is saying.  They certainly look more like him than the people who live on our street.)

Me: Well, you can do that.  When you are a grown-up, you may want to live somewhere where people look more like you and talk in Spanish.

But then this dissolved into a conversation about how wherever they live, there has to be three houses so that they can live side-by-side and be neighbors.  And a hotel so that Mommy and Daddy could come and visit.

Sounds like a great plan to me.

• TV.  We told the boys they could watch a ton of TV while we are here, and we’ve held true to our word.  They’ve probably averaged over an hour a day.  (We don’t watch it at home – just a movie on DVD once a week.)  I haven’t had cable in over ten years, so I’m a bit rusty on channel surfing.  But oh my goodness.  Nothing is safe for children.  I flip through the channels at record speed because you have no idea what will pop up as you are searching for something animated.  No idea.  And tonight, when we had settled on the National Geographic channel’s crocodile feature, the boys called me over during a commercial.  It was for some show that was slated to come on the next night about a plane that crashed.  And the promo showed the people panicking, the plane plummeting, and the body bags being loaded.  They looked up at me and said, “Is that real?”  To which I said, “No.  It’s a silly joke.  Who wants a cookie?”
• Flying.  My kids have flown in a plane at their young ages too many times to count.  Big planes, small planes.  Commercial, private.  International, local.  They have never once expressed any fear or even blinked about it.  Once when we were flying to California, we experienced turbulence so bad that most of the adults were looking at each other with the “Is this it?” type expression.  My kids, however, were screaming with joy at the top of their lungs and throwing the hands up to the ceiling, like they were at an amusement park.  Today, when I saw that promo with them, I realized that they may be so fearless about planes because they don’t know any better.  Which suits me just fine, thank you very much.
• Packing.  Jarrod started tonight trying to cram all the dirty clothes and souvenirs into our luggage.  He is staying on an extra week after we leave to finish up his classes.  So when he turned to me and said, “I think you are going to need an extra carry-on”, I shrugged and threw up my hands.  At this point, I will have 3 kids and 10 bags to negotiate through customs and immigration during our layover in Houston.  I may need a drink on the flight.
• Taxis.  We’ve probably ridden in about 40-50 during the time we’ve been here.  Never the same one twice.  One smelled really bad.  Two smelled really good.  All had dangling crucifixes from the mirror which has led to an education on the Spanish Conquest for my children by me in the back of the taxi, you can rest assured.  One of the amazing things to me is that with all those various taxi drivers, only one of them spoke to me or to the kids.  The others only spoke with Jarrod.  Didn’t even look at us.  Even when the kids would thank them or say good-bye as we got out.
• Staring.  If there is one thing I will NOT miss about being here, it’s the looks we get from people.  I am so tired of being stared at that I have started staring right back.  And that’s not nice.  Today when we were shopping, we encountered this lady who had several beaded items for sale at her booth.  And she started with the, “Is that your son?” question.  Which I answered yes.  And then she asked REPEATEDLY if we had stolen him.  Stolen him.  I am not sure at all if she was joking, even though she was smiling.  Jarrod explained about the kids and how they came to be ours.  But she still kept asking if we had snatched them.
• Kids.  I find it so much easier to talk to kids in Spanish than adults.  (Okay, wait.  I could say the same thing in English about myself so maybe this isn’t a language thing after all.)  This little boy came up today at the pool, when Elliott was swimming, and was asking if I was that kid’s mom.  He took my “yes” answer for what it was and seemed satisfied completely.  And then he went on to utter his amazement that such a little kid could swim all by himself.  Elliott was very proud of that conversation, let me tell you.  And I was glad to sit and chat with him (he was about Elliott’s age) until his mother came out and I clammed up.  Because I get really nervous talking in Spanish.  Largely because I know my accent is horrible and painful to listen to.  But I need to get over this.  And practice, practice, practice.
• My kids.  They are such amazing travelers.  I cannot make a single complaint about them.  Okay, maybe one.  Elliott has been in a “phase” that frankly started before we left, but scarily resembles him at 2, when he would scream and throw things at the drop of a hat.  I’ve found my calm about this.  And I see that it too shall pass.  And I just move out of his way.  And today, I realized Jarrod must be in the groove too because when we announced we were going to leave to go shopping and to get on shoes and Elliott screamed, “I DON’T WANT TO GO TO TLAQUEPAQUE!!  I HATE TLAQUEPAQUE!!”, Jarrod responded with, “Excellent pronunciation, Elliott!”
• Their Spanish.  They are using very little.  Way less than I had hoped.  But they are understanding loads.  Elliott has probably had the biggest gains since we’ve been here.  I think before we came, there were only about two words he would routinely use in Spanish.  (And I don’t want to type them because then my blog would show up on the wrong kind of searches.)  But now he will frequently say a sentence like – “I want papas with my dinner.”  Or “Yo Quiero to go in the picina RIGHT NOW!”  It’s a start.

“Sometime today,” she shrugged.

I feel pretty much Done too.  The kids and I are ready to come home.  It’s a good thing we have only three more days here, because we are all just Done with being tourists.  It’s exhausting, it lacks comfort, and it involves a whole lotta time together in a small space. 

Speaking of the fact that we are sharing one bathroom, the “sour stomach” count is now up to 3.  It looks like I will be calling the doctor’s office on Wednesday afternoon when we stop in Houston to make us a Thursday morning appointment for some anti-butt-worm drugs (as the kids are calling them.)

You are welcome for that lovely mental image.

In other news, we hid from all things tourist today and went to see the G-Force movie in the mall.  The boys liked it bunches and bunches.  I was pleasantly surprised that I could follow most of the dialogue.  My receptive Spanish has certainly improved on this trip.  But speaking it is another story all together.  I have no idea how the movie ended, however, because I fell asleep about 2/3 of the way through it.  The storm kept me up last night and I needed some catch-up.  When we got home, Jarrod and the kids went swimming while I took another nap.  And had the most bizarre dream that the electricity came back on and when I went in the kids’ room to turn their fan back on, I noticed there were stairs leading to another bedroom and bathroom and we hadn’t even known they were there this whole time.

Clearly I am ready for a bit more space.  I miss my house.

Anyway, our trip is winding down.  We are headed out to do one last round of shopping tomorrow and then home on Wednesday.   It’s been such a nice adventure for all of us.  But I feel a bit like a tired warrior at the end of a quest.

Ready to come home.

First off, the theatre.  Teatro DeGollado.  Oh my goodness.  Definitely the loveliest theatre I’ve ever sat inside.  I can’t even paint a picture of it with words, so I’m not going to try.  But I felt like I had stepped back into time and was sitting like royalty on a red velvet chair.  It was exquisite.

And the dance.  We thought we were going to see a ballet that would be slow.  With ballet shoes.  But no.  It was fast and loud and no one was wearing ballet shoes.  The boys loved it.  There were 6 numbers that depicted history and culture of Mexican people through dance.  I can’t think of a better way for us to spend a morning in Guadalajara.  The dancers and singers were incredible.  The choreography was amazing.  The colors and movement of the costumes was mesmerizing.

We all sat enchanted.  Our favorite pieces were the Danza de Concheros and the “Jalisco” dance – which included lots of sombrero slapping and cheers from the audience.

I was nervous before we left that the boys wouldn’t sit for 2 hours of it.  But honestly I think we were all wishing there was an encore.  It was that good.  My only regret was that I didn’t bring a camera.  Because I thought we wouldn’t be permitted to use it inside the theatre.  I was wrong. Rats.  But if you’d like to see some photos, go here.  (I think it takes a while to load them.)

~~

After that we were feeling so great we walked a few blocks over to see the murals that Jarrod had seen earlier and wanted the boys to see.  Because he knew they (especially Isaac) would like them.  And he was right.

The artist, Jose Clemente Orozco, (who is muy famous), spent 4 years back in the 30′s painting these incredible scenes inside this super old and gorgeous building.  The paintings are very unique for murals, I think. With their bold and broad storikes, they are almost graffiti-like – which is fitting, since Guadalajara boasts some pretty impressive graffiti.  But really, they are just very strong and dark and deep.

The scenes depict the Spanish conquest over the indigenous people who occupied old Mexico. (And don’t get me started on all those mean greedy white people who conquered our continent many years ago.)

Here’s a YouTube video that shows the murals we saw.  (We went to the larger set of them you see in the second half of the video.)  And watch this on mute if you want.  For some reason, this guy’s narration really annoys me.  But of all the videos of the murals on YouTube, he got the best footage.

Mommy, however, spent the day in the bathroom.  Let’s hope it’s all “out” by tomorrow.

When Jarrod got home tonight, I said, “I can’t go to dinner.  I don’t want to smell food.  Please figure out something about feeding the little people.”  And I went to bed.

So two hours later, the kids come bouncing back into my room.  “Mommy!  We went to McDonald’s and we had SODA!  And we played on the playplace!  And we even rode a bus!  Daddy said we could since you weren’t with us.”

I still haven’t had a chance to blog about last weekend and the fun times we had.  But that will have to wait.  Back to bed for me.

How come we don’t have doctors who make house calls in our country and Mexico does? Huh?  Answer me that.  (And while I have your attention, Government People, Have you seen the documentary Sicko?  You should.  And then go redo our health care system.  Because it’s broken.)

But anyway.  Mexico.  So Elliott’s stomach issues that I mentioned in the last post turned into all out, doubled over with pain, not eating, crying all the time, slapping his belly and moaning in his sleep, PAIN by last night.  Which led me to be quite certain his appendix was about to burst.  Because he didn’t even tease anybody all day long.  He was that sick.

So by 8:00, I start to panic.  And we start making phone calls.  We called our new friends, who used to live next door but just moved into their new house here in Guadalajara last week.  They didn’t answer.  Jarrod went to knock on other doors here in the complex, but no answer there.  I was on a mission to find out if there was some kind of UTC equivalent here where we could take him to get seen by a doctor and get some x-rays and avoid going to the hospital.  Because I always avoid going to the hospital.  And Elliott has the scars (literally – cuts that should have had stitches) on his face to prove it.

Finally Jarrod calls the front desk of the hotel people who own these apartments.  They say, ‘No problem.  We will have a doctor at your apartment in 15 minutes.’

Huh?  You mean…he will come here?  And see that my kid really has a simple belly ache and we disturbed him from his busy doctor life to come here to see that the poor kid has plain old diarrhea?  No, thank you.

But by 9:30 we were both freaking out at how much he was moaning in his sleep.  And Jarrod called.  And the doctor called us back himself within a few minutes, telling us what car he was driving and where he was on the road and what he was wearing, etc.

Did I lose you at the part where the doctor called us?  Yeah.  I know.

Anyway, he came.  And he poked.  And he listened to heart beats and breathing.  And took a temperature.  And asked us a zillion questions.  And when he was done, and declared that indeed this was parasites and not an organ about to explode, he still sat there on the sofa in our living room.  Giving us time to make sure we didn’t have any other concerns or questions or whatnot.

All in all, he was here for about 30 minutes.  Plus his travel time, of course.  And when we were finished, Jarrod said, “How much do we owe you?”  He seemed to think for a minute and randomly say “800 pesos?” With a question in his voice.  (This is about $60 USD.)  I think we might have been getting a gringo price.  But he could have asked for double that and I would have thought it was a steal.

$60.  No co-pay.  No preapproval.  No forms to fill out in triplicate.  He left us with a prescription, which he offered to get for us and we turned him down, and his cell phone number.  His cell phone number.  I am pretty sure the kids’ pediatrician at home has an unlisted home number, FYI. And he came to our home.  We saw the doctor in our jammies.  And I didn’t even have to wake Elliott up.

He asked us to please call him today to tell him how Elliott was doing.  And he left.

But before he left, I said to him, “Wow.  You know, doctors don’t make house calls in the U.S.”

And then he looked down and said, “I know.  We are about 25 years behind the times medically here.”

Huh?

U.S. Government-FBI-type-Internet-Spies-who-are-still-out-there-reading-stuff-from-when-Bush/Cheney-told-you-to-do-it:

PLEASE pass this along to the powers that be in D.C.  I, random voter #478,082, would really like to have doctors who make house calls. See if you can squeeze that into the current plan.

Thank you.

I tried to explain to the kids what “homesick” is.  (This is their first time every feeling that way, I believe.)  They all agreed right away, after a good definition, that they were indeed homesick.  So we made a list of what we missed the most in our travel journal:

Elliott misses his toys.

Gustavo misses his bed.

Isaac misses his cold pillows and his treasure box in the basement.

Mommy misses her kitchen.  And her bed.

Writing it down must have helped…because we seemed to have plugged through that and are back to not killing each other and whining all day.  A good change.

We have less than two weeks left of our little adventure.  I am impressed that the boys have done so well.  It’s a long time to be away from home.  The hardest part, hands down, has been the lack of space for hurting each other.  My sons have a deep biological need to wrestle and scream and tackle and otherwise mangle each other to shreds.  And I’ve said, “No touching!” about 58 times a day since we’ve been here.  Which is a lot more annoying than “Take it to the basement!” which is what I say at home.  And I think this general no touching thing has given them all some pent-up energy.  I’m a little scared to see what they will do with it when we get home.  Playdates, beware.

In other sickness news, Gustavo and Mommy and Daddy have all had allergy issues off and on while we’ve been here.  And Elliott, bless his little heart, got pinworms (again!) this week.  Everybody can utter a collective Yuck out loud.  This turned into diarrhea for him yesterday which could be just traveler’s pains, or could be because of the meds they gave him for the pinworms.  We shall see.

But no Swine Flu.  Or death by drug lords.  Both of which we were frequently warned about before we came.  And even after we arrived for that matter.  I made Jarrod register with the U.S. Embassy before our trip because I’m geeky like that.  And he got an email from them two days ago that he had to read out loud to me because he was chuckling so hard.  It said  -

“Because of recent violence in parts of Mexico, we want to give you some special traveling tips to help you stay safe.  If you hear gunshot, please find a solid concrete barrier to shield yourself with.  And do not wander close to where the gunshot sounds are coming from to see what is going on.”

Someone got paid (with my tax dollars no less) to write that helpful email.  I am left wondering HOW I can get that job.  Maybe if I send in my resume and some future email suggestions?

“If you smell smoke, do not douse yourself with gasoline to stay wet.”

“If you see raw meat on the side of the street, do not eat it.”

“If you are going to travel to a small town outside of the city and you do not like endangering your life or getting lost, do not take a bus.”

Before we came, Jarrod got an email from the university that said, “You will be here during rainy season.  You need umbrellas.  And waterproof shoes.”  I scoffed.  But he packed ‘em.  And it was a good thing.  Because when it rains during the middle of the day here, the streets flood.  I mean, if you are walking anywhere, as we always are, you will be wading through water.  Guaranteed.

The kids think it’s a grand adventure.  And so who am I to complain?

Other than the rain, the weather is warm here.  Usually in the low 80s during the day, and dropping down to 60s at night.  But it’s a strange 82 degrees.  You can stand in the shade with the breeze and feel cold.  Or you can step into the sun and feel like you are going to melt.  When there’s a breeze (and there usually is), it’s actually fine.  But without the breeze, it’s really, really toasty.

From about 2:30 – 7:00 seems to be the melting hour for us.  We all get hot and mad about the lack of AC.  But really it’s not as bad as it could be.

And is my iphone correct?  Have you been having crazy 72 degrees days in Lexington while we’ve been gone?

That’s nuts.

It was really quite good – juicy and tender.  Though I’m not much of a meat person.  (I think it would be very hard to be a vegetarian here, by the way.  Especially if you are trying to avoid fruits and veggies that have been washed in tap water.)

The boys were heart-broken when the server said they were out of bottled water, as you can see.

Elliott declared this was his “best restaurant ever”, even though he barely touched the pancakes he ordered.  That coke can, however, was left completely dry, don’t you worry.

Then we went to another park that was described in a tourist book as being a peaceful family-relaxing place with a large pond with pedal-boats and an electric train and horseback riding.

Well.  It turned out to be more like a small amusement park.  But instead of Kings Island type stuff, more of the local carnival-fair type rides.  The kids were of course thrilled.  And they had a good time.  (All 4 of them.)

I was a bit concerned about the lack of um…safety patrols.  The ride operator would get the kids loaded in and then start it up and then head off to load another ride or maybe chat with a friend or text her boyfriend.  Or whatever.   There were few straps.  And random size requirements that seemed to be enforced on a whim.  But the kids had fun.  And didn’t catch on that we were lying to them when we said they weren’t tall enough to ride rides that we were sure had led more than one child to an untimely death.

The day ended with a bang. Literally.  Daddy and Elliott got a little too bumpy on the bumper cars and gave Isaac a great big chinchon on the forehead.  Yuck.

The kids came home exhausted but happy.  They worked some more on their new Lego project (a hotel) and then we started Harry Potter #3.  A great start to the week.

Which turned out to be another week with spotty internet.

Let’s hope this gets posted…