Walking in the Rain

Yesterday, after four days of rain, Mexico had me at my wit’s end.  Holed up in my house I was content, but as soon as it came time to walk to work I transformed into a bit of a curmudgeon.  I blame it on my misunderstanding of Mexico and its people.  To paint a brief picture for you, when it rains in Mexico, giant still bodies of water form.  In the states, I would call these puddles, but that word doesn’t translate here.  I guess I imagine puddles as small, little pockets of water that if splashed in would merely create a slight sprinkling.  The puddles here are knee-deep craters big enough to swim in, and when you are walking on the sidewalk and a car drives through one of these puddles you are left drenched.  The people say this problem is formed by the large amount of garbage in the sewer system that needs to be cleaned out.  I for one vote for cleaning it out.

 Here, even the arches are underwater

The rain has reminded me of how different it is to live in a place verses visit a place.  Had Querétaro been a part of our Mexican tour, I would have chocked it up to bad luck that we visited during a fluke rainstorm in February.   But since I live here and have learned that it is common practice to make pedestrians wait in the rain while dry people in their cars keep pushing their way through the intersection, I have grown frustrated and taken the wise advise of my cooperating teacher during student teaching, and I flip people off in my pockets.  She used to say to do that when the students acted unruly, and I have to admit it makes me feel better.  Other times, I act aggressively and I just walk straight into the street and hope the cars stop (they don’t always, but I will keep that story to myself since my father is likely to read this blog).

A nearby part-time park/mud pool

Mexico confuses me daily.  I wonder why I can’t have a hot shower every time I want one or why it is okay for people to throw their dirty cleaning water out onto the same sidewalk that I use everyday.  I decided that one of the best ways to deal with it is to give up logic.  Things just don’t make sense around here, and I could sit around stewing over why they drown their parks to the point of killing the grass, or I could just go about my day and learn to accept the muddled world of Mexico and its giant puddles. 

 Our back porch. Notice the "drain."

The learning curve is steep and I often feel like I will never understand the social norms and mores.  I have to fight against my American mindset that believes the world is a better place when pedestrians have the right of way.  But then I wake up to a bright, sunny morning like today and I am touched with a bit of gratitude and find that I am ready to give this country another go.  There are many challenges to integrating into another culture, and I would say that it is a strong possibility that come the rainy season I am going to have the similar frustrations to those of this week, but hopefully I can gain a more positive perspective by then. 

Bird making the most of rainy days