Showing posts with label Poop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poop. Show all posts

Monday, July 5, 2010

South of the Border



¿Qué onda? Oh no, it’s back. That’s right, I’m out of the country and that could only mean two things: more wordplay and more self-indulgent blogging. If you’re confused about where I am, that means you probably didn’t send me anything for graduation, which means you didn’t get my standard thank you note that included a little nugget on my summer plans. And you definitely don’t follow me on twitter. Neither are acceptable excuses, but I’m glad you’re here anyway. I am spending the next two months here in Mexico City interning for the Secretary of Public Security, working on information security type stuff.

Some of you might have heard already, but there are some problems going on here south of the border. We have earthquakes, hurricanes, storms, and eruptions of violence. Those of you who watch the news might think I’m talking about the 6.2 quake in Oaxaca, Hurricane Alex, and cartel violence. But I’m not. Those of you who’ve brushed your teeth or taken a shower here, or stay up on my gchat statuses know that that’s not what I’m talking about. I am currently struggling through a second round of natural disasters and brutal carnage taking place in my digestive system, all thanks to Mr. Moctezuma II. Those of you who know me well, and to be honest there are probably too many people on this list, know that I am no stranger to the bathroom. I don’t mind spending some time there, but this is ridiculous. I think they might make me stay an extra week from all the time I’m losing at work.

Anyway, on to more pleasant things; more adult things. Like the personal chauffer that Bryant and I have to drive us to and from work everyday. Oh yeah, I’m here with my strawberry/daywalker friend I was in Spain with, Bryant Smith (Bryant’s Myth). Back to the driver. His name is Alfredo Gonzalez. Like Alfred. He’s awesome and I know that we’ll become best friends and he’ll extend his duties to picking us up from clubs late at night, and sometime soon we’ll all ditch work so the three of us can head down to Acapulco for a few days. So look forward to that blog.

So Alfredo picked us up at the airport, and once we realized he wasn’t going to kidnap us we had him take us to what we thought was our hotel/apartment. It turned out that it wasn’t it, so he drove us to where the lady there said was our hotel/apartment. The lady there gave us a key and we went upstairs only to find that the hotel/apartment they gave us was way too nice and we didn’t want to pay for it. This led to me being thrown right into the fire, having to find out that our reservation was cancelled for some reason and negotiate another hotel/apartment in another building, all in Spanish. Long story short, though I struggled, we were able to get the right type of hotel/apartment in a different building, and though I’m not sure yet, I may have knocked 1000 pesos off the monthly rate.

As for the job, all I really know so far about the job is I get my own office, work from 10 am to 8 pm with 3-5 off for lunch, and that there are bathrooms down the hall out the door to the left, both upstairs and downstairs, and should those be full, there are more across the courtyard on the right. The building we’re in is pretty sweet and modern, with glass and greenery everywhere. I tried to take a picture, but a couple of federales came up to me and made me delete them.

This is my office where I make the money…

…but this is where I do most of my work.

After a boring, orientation-type work week (well the President did visit, but of course we weren’t allowed in the building), we tried to do some touristy stuff this past weekend. After watching Spain win we went to Zocalo, which is a huge square with a huge Mexican flag in the center. There was a free FIFA fan party going on, and we bobbed our heads to the Mexican version of the Pussycat Dolls then popped into the Metropolitan Cathedral. After walking around a bunch we went back, ate dinner, hung out on our roof terrace, and then checked out a nearby hip-hop club, which was actually pretty cool.

Sunday, our Independence Day, we were able to do some touristy stuff, but still incorporate some Fourth of July staples as well. We went back to the Zocalo area and went in the National Palace and then to the Templo Mayor, which is the museum and ruins of Tenochtitlan. We were able to come face to face with the guy who was causing all our problems. Not ones to be intimidated, we splurged for some good ol’ fashioned hot dogs, three for 15 pesos. That’s a little more than a dollar.

What's this guy's deal?

This first one is going to be out before I get to number three…

After exploring a little more and unsuccessfully trying to find fireworks, we took the metro back home (25 cents anywhere) to get ready for dinner. Since we couldn’t see a firework show, we had to settle for my America playlist, dinner at the Hard Rock Café, and Budweiser. While it probably isn’t my favorite Fourth of July memory, it was still a solid day. Well, mostly...

Besitos,

Jim