Hola! Bueno! (Hello! Good! These are the two words I've really got down so far.)
Did you ever step out of a Starbucks and find yourself swept up in parade among towering 20ft. tall puppets? I think that is what really happened to me last night but it's kinda hard to tell reality from fiction at the moment due to complete culture shock.
San Miguel is a little bit Emerald City, a little bit San Francisco, and a little bit rustic old Mexico. The colors are more vivid than anything you'd find on Van Gogh's pallet. Around every corner it seems there is a little lovely surprise. And maybe the most surprising of all is how San Miguel has overturned all of the misconceptions I had about what it would be like here. It's cleaner, friendlier, and safer than I could possibly have imagined.
Immersion, on the other hand, is a LOT harder than anything I had imagined. These people are hard core. I was hoping for a relaxing, educational experience but Maria Guadeloupe, our wily old housemother, has been speaking to me only in Spanish since I arrived and my head feels like an overfilled helium balloon about to explode from information overload. As you can guess, we haven't gotten very far with bueno and hola as our only means of communication. She's a sweet woman though, and every so often she throws me a bone and says something in English so I can follow the conversation.
Rena was apparently studying her Spanish for Gringos book a lot harder than I was. The first night at dinner she shocked me when Spanish started spewing out of her mouth rapid fire. It reminded me of Linda Blair's scene in the Exorcist sans the green bile. Mama Lupe is trying to get me to talk but, it's the strangest thing, German words are the only ones that come to mind when I try to respond.
One more day until school officially starts. I am terribly afraid they will take my Chatty Cathy Translator doll away and put her in a more advanced class! Will write more after we get underway next week.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
What's a Rumspringa?
The idea for a Rumspringa was formed last year when I was visiting my friend Laurel in New York (she's the lively one on the left in the profile photo.) After three solid days of listening to me cry over my coffee, tea, water, and wine, Laurel was convinced that I needed a Rumspringa- and soon. Thinking it might be the Carribbean's answer to the Long Island Iced Tea, I got interested. Well, it turns out a Rumspringa is a lot more involved than a shot of Captain Morgan and a mixer, but I quickly got hooked on the idea just the same.
So, let's get down to it. What's a Rumspringa? The Rumspringa is an Amish tradition in which young people take an extended time of frolick before they settle down to marriage. Strict Amish rules are relaxed. The young are free to explore.
Immediately I knew that Laurel was right. This could be just what I needed to sort out the answer to 'what should I do with the next half of my life?' Never mind that the horses were out of the barn and I was already married. The kids were grown and on their own. The husband was completely self-sufficient. It was time for the Rumspringa! And while I'd like to say that I approached planning my Rumspringa in a methodical and mature way, the actual thoughts that preceeded the decision were more like, "Free to frolick? Having fun! What a concept! Sign me up!"
The next posts will chronical my 5-week mid-life (and I hope I'm not being overly optimistic by saying mid-life) Rumspringa in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Another member of my tribe of malcontents will be coming along for the ride. Rena, already retired from two careers and a Peace Corp veteran, decided she was in need of a little Rumspringa too.
Our plane leaves in just a few hours. Wish I could tell you that I'm fully prepared and fearless but that isn't the case. Over the past 6 weeks I've only mastered about 25 words in Spanish - just the essentials like: yes, no, dog, cat, jump, truck, where is the bathroom, and how much is Immodium AD. Once I arrive I'll be living in the home of strangers as their border while I attend a Spanish immersion school. Who knows what may unfold. Just yesterday I read that there's a region in Mexico where they eat tacos made of LIVE stinkbugs. (That is not a typo. Live! Stinkbugs! Eating is a true adventure for some people, isn't it.)
Well, it's time to roll. Without any more fanfare or delay, let the Rumspringa begin!
So, let's get down to it. What's a Rumspringa? The Rumspringa is an Amish tradition in which young people take an extended time of frolick before they settle down to marriage. Strict Amish rules are relaxed. The young are free to explore.
Immediately I knew that Laurel was right. This could be just what I needed to sort out the answer to 'what should I do with the next half of my life?' Never mind that the horses were out of the barn and I was already married. The kids were grown and on their own. The husband was completely self-sufficient. It was time for the Rumspringa! And while I'd like to say that I approached planning my Rumspringa in a methodical and mature way, the actual thoughts that preceeded the decision were more like, "Free to frolick? Having fun! What a concept! Sign me up!"
The next posts will chronical my 5-week mid-life (and I hope I'm not being overly optimistic by saying mid-life) Rumspringa in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Another member of my tribe of malcontents will be coming along for the ride. Rena, already retired from two careers and a Peace Corp veteran, decided she was in need of a little Rumspringa too.
Our plane leaves in just a few hours. Wish I could tell you that I'm fully prepared and fearless but that isn't the case. Over the past 6 weeks I've only mastered about 25 words in Spanish - just the essentials like: yes, no, dog, cat, jump, truck, where is the bathroom, and how much is Immodium AD. Once I arrive I'll be living in the home of strangers as their border while I attend a Spanish immersion school. Who knows what may unfold. Just yesterday I read that there's a region in Mexico where they eat tacos made of LIVE stinkbugs. (That is not a typo. Live! Stinkbugs! Eating is a true adventure for some people, isn't it.)
Well, it's time to roll. Without any more fanfare or delay, let the Rumspringa begin!
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