First impressions

The scene: El cuartito (the little room in which I am staying for a few weeks before I move up to the roof with the other full-time volunteers)

Right now I'm sitting on my bed next to a suitcase strewn with clothes.  A pair of pants is drying on the hanger, recovering from my first experience trudging through the city in flare jeans during rainy season.  Apparently the rainy season in Mexico lasts from June to August, and it rains everyday in the afternoon.  This immediately reminds me of Quito where I spent many a day walking home from the university with soggy pant bottoms, which wasn't so bad when I came home to a bowl of one of Diva's homemade soups.  El cuartito is well lit from sunlight streaming through the windows, and the long white curtains are swaying gently with the breeze.  Muted noise from the street makes its way in, traffic and voices and the occasional chirping of birds.

It is my third day here, and while everything is still very new, I am pretty much at ease.  Mexico feels oddly familiar now.  I am used to the sensory overload that usually accompanies my first weeks in a new place, and I was surprised to find that the usual nervous and novel fascination that I feel were not present as I strolled through my neighborhood in the center of Mexico City.  I was in heaven taking in the fruit stands and splashes of color and tantalizing smells from the street vendors' carts, but they were familiar, not foreign.  This change makes sense as I am no longer seeing Mexico with truly new eyes; within the past four years I've spent about two months combined here and probably the same amount of time dreaming about this place.  

Let me tell you about the lovely and random events that have composed my first few days.  I've spent a considerable amount of time getting to know the adorable family at the center of activity here at the Casa.  There is Nico, a hippie Californian who's in charge of the guest house and pretty much the go-to person for all issues related to the Casa.  He's very laid back but also very passionate about the work that the Casa does, especially the hospitality program.  Then there's his girlfriend Jill, a former Mormon from Texas who's writing her dissertation about 19th century intellectuals in New England and Mexico.  She is so warm and friendly, and I spent some time with her yesterday both going to the market and searching for a circular saw (a sierra circular, as we both learned) so that she and Nico can build a space for a garden on their patio.  And then there is Agnita ("Nita"), their 11 month old baby girl who is about as cute as babies come.  She's the center of attention whether at the Casa or in the hardware store, as her bright blue eyes and wisps of white-blonde hair give her the look of a classic baby model.  Mexicans are especially fascinated by blonde hair and clear eyes, so it is comical to see the reactions that she inspires from people that we pass on the street, from diners to vendors to taxi drivers.  Nico and Jill joke that she can stop fights in mid-sentence with her mere presence.

Well, I could go on and on, but I've got to go help prepare a potluck lunch today for Irma, the accountant who's leaving the Casa after working here for 10 years.  I'll write again soon!