Probaditas de Morelia

End of the Line

2007-05-16T23:40:00.000-07:00

I don’t want to write this. I’ve put it off for almost two weeks as I’ve been struggled to find my words. But how do you sum up 15 amazing months? I don’t think you do. You admit they were the best 15 of your life and that you’ve never been happier and you move on.

So let’s hit some of the basics -
I’m home, in California.
Marisol is coming in July to hone her culinary skills in San Francisco with some more schooling. I’m currently looking for a job. We are living with my parents until I find a job at which time we plan to move to San Francisco.

I imagined I would want to share my final thoughts after almost a year and a half in the mountains of Mexico but now that I’ve come to it, it just doesn’t feel right. So I’m going to save that for more personal conversations that I hope to have with each of you when we have the chance.

I will say that it’s good to be home but I miss Marisol more than I thought possible.

I’ve also decided this will be the last Probadita. It was incredibly fun writing this blog but now is the right time to wrap it up. Thanks to all of you who have read my stories and shared your comments.

Before I go, here are the last photos I have from Mexico. The weekend before I came home, we took a trip to Ixtapa on the west coast of Mexico. As some of you may recall, Marisol took me to Ixtapa for my first weekend in Mexico, making this a fitting end.

Mexican sand and surf

The best of friends

The good life revisited one last time

What it's all about

See you soon!

Combis

2007-05-01T00:34:00.000-07:00

I've waited too long to introduce you to the world of Combis.

Combi - From the German "Kombi," is the Mexican name for a Volkswagen bus. Here in Mexico, Combi is also synonymous with a form of public transportation made up of VW buses. Most towns have some form of Combi-based public transportation. Morelia is no exception.

Combis and Me
Riding in a Combi is a hot, sweaty, cramped, neon lit, bad music filled, yet extremely friendly experience. I have developed a love/hate relationship withCombis more complicated and nuanced than any relationship with a fleet of buses should ever be. For most people, the Combi isn't something you contemplate. It is just one of those constants without which life wouldn't quite be the same. Morelia has hundreds of Combis driving dozens of routes that will take you almost anywhere for 5 pesos ($0.50).

Equipment
Most Combis are still VW buses although new, more comfortable, yet totally vapid Nissan vans claim an increasingly large presence in the fleet. All Combis have a U-shaped bench lining the walls of the passenger area thus leaving the middle open for the unfortunate standers. 99.9% of Combis pack a super fancy, color changing, huge display having, mp3 playing, satellite ready CD player hooked up to between 1 and 4 speakers that appear to be 40-100 years old. A classic generational mismatch that results in a unique aural experience. 50% are equipped with neon or black lights and customized interior trim packages. 2% have TV screens and about half of those are functional.

Getting On Board
Actually getting on board a Combi can be challenging. There are many reasons why a Combi will simply pass you by including overcrowded combi, distracted driver, or super-sonic ground speed, although the most likely reason is that you are standing in the wrong place. There is no map nor any marked stops. There are, however, strictly defined routes and official places where theCombi will stop if there is someone standing there. Like lots of things here, you just have to ask someone who already knows.

Pleasantries
It is customary, upon boarding a Combi, to say the appropriate pleasantry. Most of the time this is "good afternoon" or "buenas tardes" to which everyone in the Combi replies "buenas tardes." No on likes a passenger who forgets the pleasantries, they bring everyone down a little. It is also common to offer to hold the bag of anyone not lucky enough to have a seat. An amazing display of courtesy I doubt you will ever find in any US or European city of 1 million people.

Drivers
There are only two types of Combi drivers: fast and slow. Most drivers are in their thirties and although some are very young, none are old. This is a young man's game. The best drivers race around the city in a boredom induced, dream state, pretending they are racing at Daytona. These drivers typically have a broken, over-sized racing tachometer bolted to their dashboards and modified, extra loud exhaust. Despite the risk of personal harm, these drivers are still preferable to their turtle-powered cousins. As their hazard lights blink away, these drivers drift from stop to stop, seemingly propelled by nothing more than the sighs of their desperate passengers. You can easily loose your mind at the hands of these dawdling devils as the entire Combi fleet passes you by, the other drivers slowing down just long enough to ensure you have time to take in their scorn. Yelling at the man behind the wheel for more speed is not advised.

The Come From Behind Victory
The worst part about riding the Combi is standing.
The best part about riding the Combi is also standing. But this time, three stops into your misery, you hear the sweetest sound in the Combi riding world, the click of the front door. The dramatic change of fortune is heady. To good to be true. The best seat in the house, up with the driver, is being vacated and being the last one on board, you are the lucky soul who gets the free upgrade. It's the come from behind victory that's guaranteed to make your day.

Combis in Real Life

The Classic VW Combi

A new style, Nissan Combi

A rare, inside view during non-crowded conditions

A Combi driving down the main street
in town with the cathedral in the distance

Birthday Kicks

2007-04-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I have a bit of a tennis shoe habit. So you can imagine my delight when Marisol gave me these bad boys for my birthday.

They say "Mexico 70" on the sides.
(My respect to any non-Mexican who knows why.)

New tennies and me in the office

Something Special

2007-03-23T01:05:00.000-07:00

There's just something about the light in Mexico.
It's different. Softer. Warmer. Deeper maybe. But definitely different. Like a gentle filter added to life to make it more inviting, more friendly, and a little less urgent.

Although I imagine descriptions of color and light are best left to poets, I doubt even the pros could capture the enveloping glow that pervades every dawn and each dusk. My camera, equally impotent in this regard, must be incapable of processing Mexican colors with its cold aluminum body and Japanese eye.

Marisol first pointed it out, this issue of the Mexican light and its indescribable character. Few days have passed since that haven't found me stopped for a brief second, pondering its special quality. And now, when asked what I'll miss, my response is almost universally met with confused stares. Like I said, it's indescribable.

Birthday Fun

2007-02-10T23:04:00.000-08:00

I turned 29 at the end of January. We went up to Javier's cabin for a little Mexican style BBQ and relaxation.

Alfonso and Marisol

Howdy partner

Sherlock Holmes at your service

Head-star

Mexican style BBQ

Javier showing off his twirling light ball skills

One Year

2007-02-04T23:50:00.000-08:00

On February 2, 2006 I boarded a plane with all the essential worldly possessions I could carry, and moved to Mexico. Last Friday marked my one year anniversary.

I remember thinking that for the first time in my life I had absolutely no idea what lay in store for me. There were no older friends or siblings to give me some idea of what to expect. Moving to the middle of Mexico was uncharted territory and by most accounts, downright crazy. I was excited and terrified at the same time.

Looking back over the last year I quickly come to one unavoidable conclusion: this is the best thing I've ever done.

Carne Asada Nirvana

2007-02-01T22:18:00.000-08:00

Four steps to Carne Asada Nirvana...

1. Stoke the fire

2. Season your beef

3. Toss on the grill

4. Devour

Dedicated to J.G.

For the First Time Ever...

2007-01-17T23:28:00.000-08:00

More awesome than a panther.
More terrifying than a bear.

Nate with a beard.

Now in black and white!

Vamoosh

2007-01-08T00:40:00.000-08:00

The Friday before New Year's, my laptop was stolen out of the trunk of a Nissan Tsuru.

I've since found out that the Nissan Tsuru, until recently the cheapest car sold in Mexico, can be opened with the same facility as a can of coke, that is to say, almost effortlessly. A handy little piece of information for those of you, my dear readers, who are tempted to throw your not yet stolen laptops in the trunk of a soda can with wheels.

Afterwards, I vaguely remember uttering some obvious lies like, "It's just money," and "Who cares? Computers are for geeks anyway." And really, to be honest, I only ~~depend~~ depended on it for my income, music, movies, radio, news, and English language reading material.

Right. I've moved on now.

The spirited youths who stole my laptop also relieved me of the post-modern Spanish literature that I was slogging my way through and the dictionary that accompanied me on the slog. So now I'm reading a Spanish fantasy novel for young adults - dictionary not required. I've moved on.

Here is a picture of a typical Tsuru. Look at that trunk, don't you hear it calling out to you, just waiting to get torn up.
And the Wikipedia on the Tsuru:

It is the same basic car (as the Sentra) only with minor cosmetic changes and mechanical downgrades to make it cheaper, such as non-power steering, downgraded interior trim, a downgraded braking system, and a mechanical clutch instead of a hydraulic one.

A special thanks to Marisol's good friend, Daniella , who loaned me the computer that I am using to write this. You are a lifesaver Daniella. Thanks.

A Siegel Wedding

2007-01-03T23:50:00.000-08:00

Everyone loves a wedding. Michael's wedding was no exception.

Michael and I have been friends for almost our entire lives. We met when we were 3 years old, went to the same pre-school, kindergarten, elementary school, junior high school and high school, were on the same baseball team, and even had a spell as roommates in San Francisco. Junior year of high school we both thought we wanted to get engineering degrees based on the other's recommendation though neither of us had any idea what an engineer was or did. We took advanced chemistry together and then dropped advanced chemistry together as soon as we got into college. (The beginning of the end for our engineering aspirations.)

It was extremely emotional to finally see him get married but get married he did. Congratulations Michael, to both of you, it was a beautiful wedding.

I also must mention that Michael is also one of my most loyal blog readers.

At the alter

Just married

Freshening up before the reception

Mike Jensen was our trusty table companion

Marisol's red dress

Cutting the cake

Dancing

Gettin' down

Marisol got to meet Michael's Mom and little brother Mathew

Two handsome couples

The morning after.
Michael and Jen are all set to leave for their honeymoon.

25 years of friendship

New York, NY

2006-12-20T22:51:00.000-08:00

My consulting work has allowed me to loosen up the purse strings a bit in recent months. The timing couldn’t have been better as Michael Siegel, my oldest friend, was getting married in Connecticut and it was something I couldn’t miss.

Marisol and I decided to make a vacation out of it and spend the week before the wedding in New York City. The city was, as always, awe-inspiring. It makes me proud to know we have such a peerless city.

The trip begins at the airport in Mexico City
(after 4 hours of bus travel and two 30-minute cab rides).

Ahh, Times Square. Too bad that's a fake,
painted backdrop and not the real thing. Or is it?

This one is obviously fake, the
background proportions and coloring are all wrong.

This looks real. The park in winter.

We don't see a lot of cool guys playing
cool jazz on the streets here in Mexico.

The Chrysler Building,
my favorite NYC landmark, from inside the Empire State.

My, what a big shadow you have.

Freezing on top of the world.

Warning: Consuming obscene amounts
of delicious raw sushi at Yama may be habit forming.

My little chef in spice heaven.

Sarah Sunde was our awesome and gracious host.
We could not have stayed in New York without her help.
She is a famous director now and recently received
a very positive review in the New York Times.

The first stop of the long trip back.

Stay tuned for Siegel wedding photos in the next post...

Mexico Through the Eyes of Kyle S. Smith

2006-12-04T00:26:00.000-08:00

As you may have heard, we recently received a visit from a famous photographer.
I am happy to present to you here, for the first time anywhere, "Morelia Through the Eyes of Kyle S. Smith."

The Cathedral at Night

Through the fence (ala barrière)

Don Quixote de la Morelia

The Church in Candyland

Patzcuaro

Old Lady and a Tree, Patzcuaro

The Heavens

Danza de los Viejitos (Dance of the Little Old Men)

The Glass Ceiling

Tortilla Heaven

Dried Chiles

Church Through the Trees

A Typical House Entrance

My Mexican Thanksgiving

2006-11-30T12:28:00.000-08:00

Marisol, my amazing girlfriend, decided she wanted to make me a Thanksgiving dinner so I wouldn't miss home during the holiday. I deeply regret that I didn't have my camera with me while we (she) was preparing the Turkey but I'll attempt to do it justice with words.

(Warning: Graphic depictions of food stuffs and gluttony follow. If you hunger easily or have eaten nothing but Turkey leftovers since last Thursday, you may want to skip directly to the pictures.)
First, she injected the turkey with white wine, and then proceeded to put butter, bacon, salt, and pepper between the skin and the white breast meat. This, she explained, was the critical step to enhancing the flavor of the white meat. The bacon mostly disintegrates during baking but the usually dry and tasteless breast meat soaks up all that flavor and and juice leaving it juicy and delicious. I could only nod my head in amazement. There was also a glaze of some sort that was brushed onto the skin and then a stuffing made of a dozen ingredients including ground beef, white raisins, almonds, celery, carrots, a bunch of spices, and five or six other special Marisol secrets.

Then there was the Sweet Potato Surprise, a specialty from my family that is topped off with nothing less than a layer of marshmallows. Marisol was skeptical, but consented in the end and I'm proud to say that everyone, Marisol included, raved about this dish. My grandma would be so proud.

Finally, she whipped together a pumpkin pie, from scratch. There were no pumpkins to be found anywhere so we bought a yellowish gourd about the size of two footballs and went to work. I was the most nervous of how this would turn out since it is my favorite single part of Thanksgiving. It, I shouldn't be surprised, turned out amazing. Perfectly spiced and perhaps the best "pumpkin" pie I've ever eaten.

Finally, there were the other usual suspects: rolls, mashed potatoes, salad, gravy, and cranberry sauce. A perfect Thanksgiving away from home.

Just minutes after ravaging our dinner.

Master Chef and, err, host guy.

Javier and Amandine.

A thank you kiss on the forehead.

Kyle & John - Global Wanderers: Part 2

2006-11-17T00:51:00.000-08:00

More photos with Kyle and John.

A now prominent feature of my apartment – an authentic English teapot complete with a knit tea cozy hand-made by an authentic English mom. It's hard to say who is more proud here.

In my kitchen.
Marisol is inventing an amazing meal.
I am holding a jar of mustard.

Posing with coche azul.

Kyle at one end of everyone's favorite street.

Jeans and jackets.

Jeans and sweaters.

We miss you guys.
Hope you are having fun wherever you are.

Kyle & John - Global Wanderers: Part 1

2006-11-13T01:50:00.000-08:00

Ahh yes, those two globetrotters Kyle and John chanced to stop by our little corner of the world a short while ago in route, they claimed, between the UK, Oregon, and New Zealand. They were fantastic guests and even brought me a real English tea pot all the way from, yes, the UK, thus cementing a properly brewed cup of tea as my latest obsession. Kyle took an incredible number of great photos. Here are six of them. More to come soon.

Kyle and John a few blocks from my place.

Standing in the middle of the main street,
"La Madero," right in the heart of downtown.

John enjoying Mexican culture with his first "Bandera." A set of three shots, one of Tequila, one of lime juice, and one of a spicy tomato juice concoction called Sangrita.
Bandera means flag and here each shot matches one of the stripes on the Mexican Flag. These shots are to be sipped (not chugged American style) in sequence starting with the Tequila. The combination when using good Tequila is a delicious treat as John can now attest.

Moments later John enjoyed another Mexican custom. I can never remember what this thing is called but it's a large, shared, tropical cocktail. Locals recommended caution when consuming these huge-bowl cocktails and Banderas in the same sitting.

Later that day in rainy Patzcuaro.

Planning the day over breakfast at the best hotel in Morelia.

More photos coming soon in Part 2...

Job Update

2006-11-07T23:32:00.000-08:00

I am no longer living between the lines in the truest since. Back in June I started a small consulting practice here in Mexico providing marketing services to US based companies. This is my job and I'm having a great time with it.

I’ve had four clients so far and two fairly long term engagements, one of which is still keeping my busy. I communicate with my clients via email, IM and Skype. I have a San Francisco phone number that rings here in Mexico so unless people specifically ask, they have no idea that I’m not in California. The completely digital, outsourced, information worker.

I’m working on a company website now and will post a link to it here when I finish. For now though, I’ve been spending most of my time just working on the projects for my clients so my own marketing efforts have taken a back seat.

I’ve got to say, working for yourself can be an amazing experience. I hope I can continue to find new clients. So of course, if you are looking for marketing help, or know of anyone that is, please pass on my name. Thanks.

Hard at work in the international
headquarters of Night Light Consulting

The Hoopty (Coche Azul)

2006-10-18T01:30:00.000-07:00

Is it the secret dream of every middle-class, suburban boy to some day have his own hoopty ride? For a brief moment I was living the dream. It pains me to write this now but that's how these things go. I was the official driver, though not owner, of an '88 Chrysler that was a bona fide hoopty. It was surprisingly big for a 2-door, didn't go fast, and wasn't quiet or discreet about anything. We had but a short while to get to know each other though I do feel I can say with confidence that groaning and hissing were high on its list of favorite activites. 18 years may not sound like much, but in Mexico time is not kind to mechanical beasts of burden.

This car, this big hulking mass, couldn't have been more different from my Jetta back home, but it did have a certain charm that took me completely by surprise. I was, in fact, quite smitten with my coche azul. Maybe it was the whoosh of the engine, barely audible over all the creaking, as I accelerated through the gears. Or maybe it was the industrial-strength power steering that made navigating at slow speeds an effortless dream. Or perhaps the simple, odd fact that it came with half a fishing pole and a pair of jean cut-offs in the trunk. But it was probably just my inner child finally driving that long lost, great American car that was the favorite companion of every cool rebel in every great movie from the 80's.

I figured it was only a matter of time before it left me stranded somewhere – the cause of a major traffic jam and the recipient of a slew of inventive curses involving donkeys and a dozen spanish words that never made it into any textbook. But I didn't care. I couldn't resist the siren song of my blue, creaky, hoopty ride.

But alas, it was not to be. Sadly, there was no dramatic blow up, no curses uttered, just a flashing "check oil" light, a cursory examination of the engine area, and the depressing conclusion that the engine was "loose" and spewing oil everywhere. Coche azul's owner gave me the bad news. "You best not drive her anymore. Well, not without a new engine or a complete overhaul," he laughed. I didn't cry. After all, we barely new each other, this car and I. But I thought we would have more time. I never imagined the end would come so quickly. It hurt. I cracked some jokes and he smiled, an understanding twinkle in his eye. He had also loved this car despite its many faults and could hear my pain through the gallows humor. I collected my glasses and a tape and gave him back the keys with a shrug. We had a good run while it lasted. What more can you hope for from a creaky old hoopty?

Coche Azul (rough translation: blue car)

Me with Coche Azul in happier times

Our Anniversary Trip

2006-10-07T01:20:00.000-07:00

We went back to the colonial town of Patzcuaro for our Anniversary this year. Patzcuaro used to be the capital of the state so everything there is a little older than Morelia.

The main square in Patzcuaro

Out to dinner

A cool old wall next to the main cathedral

A local celebration that involved running with torches. I believe it was a pre-party of sorts in preperation for the independence day celebrations.

The view from a great hotel in Patzcuaro. You can just barely see the lake itself off in the distance past the town.

Walking through one of the many lush plazas in Patzcuaro

Me and my lady

A Favorite Deadly(?) Topic

2006-09-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

A few notes on a favorite topic of mine – scorpions.

I found and killed my 3rd scorpion. This one was on my bedroom wall, stinger poised in attack mode, about 3 feet from where my head would be if I were sleeping. I started to go for the camera to document this small warrior but I noticed him tense up so I decided best not to lose the opportunity. I took of a shoe and wham, that was the end of Mr. I-May-or-May-Not-Kill-You-While-You’re-Sleeping.

This scorpion was much smaller than the fellow who received the Rim Chop. He was in fact the the exact same size and in almost the exact same place as the other one I killed in my bedroom. Maybe there is some merit to the “scorpions travel in pairs” theory. And this, my friends, is not comforting news. This means there is another, big, mean, recently widowed Scorpion somewhere in my apartment plotting revenge against the evil, scorpion hating giant who has taken up residence here (me).

Interesting scorpion fact: The word for scorpion in spanish is “la alacrán”. Alacrán is actually of Arabic origin and found it’s way into Spanish sometime after the Moors invaded Spain in 711. Many Arabic words in Spanish can be identified by the prefix “al-”. This is because in Arabic the word was actually closer to “al acrán”. The “al” being the Arabic definite article which in English is “the”. So the spanish heard “al acrán” as one word and added their own article “la” at the front, thus, “la alacrán.” (Or so I’m told). Other Arabic words in Spanish that follow this pattern include: almuerzo which means lunch and almohada which means pillow.

And not that anyone’s keeping score but just for the record:
Scorpion Army of Death: 0
Nate: 3

El Grito

2006-09-19T22:46:00.000-07:00

We just celebrated Mexico's Independence day. Every year, on the night of September 15th, the Mexican President repeats the cry for independence or "el grito" that was first yelled by Miguel Hidalgo in 1810. As I understand it the grito includes a lot of "viva this" and "viva that" and a little bit of "die you spanish scum." (Translator's note: Slight artistic license taken to aid the understanding of modern readers.) This same tradition is also repeated in all(?) or maybe only the largest cities of each state which, luckily for us, includes Morelia.

We made our way down to the city center to join the sombrero laden mob of people who came from the surrounding pueblos to enjoy the grito. It was absurdly crowded but we squeezed in on one side impossibly far from the main stage but still close to the cathedral which donned festive green and red lights for the occasion.

Now, people from lawsuit obsessed societies, such as myself, are used to a certain amount of safety precautions when attending a large, public event. But when the the fireworks began at 11pm it became clear that Mexicans aren't such a litigious bunch because these fireworks were neither safe nor distant. They were instead being launched from what appeared to be the middle of the crowd. I say launched but given the heights they attained, thrown is probably a more accurate descriptor.

The resulting pandemonium was thrilling. Industrial strength, 4th of July style fireworks were exploding everywhere and then falling, still ablaze, into the packed mob. The crowd lurched and ebbed as we jumped frantically to and fro to avoid the burning, red and green pieces of festive projectiles falling from the sky. We screamed in terror, we laughed, a few unfortunates probably cried, but for the rest of us, wow, what a show. I'm just glad we weren't closer.

After the smoke cleared, there were some cheers and whistling, and then for no reason that I could tell, the crowd knew it was done – the grito had been issued. I'm told someone official gave the shout but everyone admitted they hadn't really heard anything. Perhaps the official was all yelled out after his brief encounter with a premature, fiery death. Or perhaps, this year, it was left to the masses. We weren't exactly clamoring for independence, but we were screaming at the top of our lungs.

The Cathedral and a sombrero before the bombardment

Safely airborne

A burning, red projectile seconds before impact

Blissful chaos

A Matter of Priorities

2006-09-18T00:24:00.000-07:00

A friend traded his stove for a pair of sunglasses — bitchin, envy invoking sunglasses, yes, but still...his stove?

Five days later he left them in the back of a taxi cab.

Sad perhaps, but he did look really damn cool for almost an entire week.

Doctors - Effective Eventually, Most of the Time

2006-09-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

I’m sick of thinking about this and I'm sure you're bored of hearing about it so I’ll keep it short. It wasn’t Salmonella, it was/is an e-coli infection of some sort. I’ve been in bed for much of the last month but I think I’m finally through the worst of it. I’m sure you can move to a foreign country if you don’t know anyone but I really can’t imagine how. There is no way I could have made it through this month without the care and feeding of Marisol and her mom (also named Marisol).

In any case, I hope to be updating this page regularly again now that I’m finally on the mend. There are funny things I've wanted to share but I've been otherwise occupied imbibing a lifetimes worth of chicken soup. So stay tuned. More is coming soon.

The Best Year

2006-08-30T00:03:00.000-07:00

Marisol and I met one year ago today.
Five months later I made the easiest decision of my life and moved to Mexico.
And here I remain, happier than I've ever been.

Guadalajara: Part 2

2006-08-21T01:25:00.000-07:00

And finally, the second-half of the photos from our trip to Guadalajara.
(The first set can be found here.)

We stumbled into a museum. I forget which one.
This courtyard was my favorite part.

The main cathedral.

Marisol in the park next to the cathedral.

Mexico has many different kinds of markets. One example being the farmers market I've mentioned previously. This market, El Mercado Libertad, is a three-story Mexican version of... (Dear reader, we apologize for the interruption. The author failed to find any analogy worth printing. He was appropriately reprimanded for his offensive lack of imagination. Please picture something enormous and crazy. –editor). And well, everything you can imagine is for sale: CDs, DVDs, shoes, name-brand clothes, food, mariachi outfits, instruments, witchcraft supplies (see below), animals, and hot food. It was disorienting, wonderful, and assuredly not earthquake safe.

A store selling potions, herbs, elixirs,
and charms for all your witchcraft and wizarding needs.

Little boy playing in the fountain in front of the cathedral.

Shadows and the cathedral.

The Saga Continues – A Not So Warm Welcome Part 2

2006-08-15T00:10:00.000-07:00

(Part 1 here)
Three trips to the medicine cabinet, food, and regular bodily functions had done nothing for my pain. It was time to get serious. We consulted Marisol’s dad, a non-practicing, but U.C. Davis educated, vet. He prescribed a strong drug that was a sure cure.

That night we had plans with friends who we are always canceling on for reasons much less compelling than what I could proffer that day: the pain of trying to digest what I could only surmise was a bag of rusty, burning daggers. So we went. 25 minutes later I was limping up the stairs to my apartment thinking I just needed to lie down. Five minutes after that I was limping back down my stairs on the way to the hospital.

This was not a medical institution that filled me with confidence. The consultation fee was $4.50 and the “doctor” that attended to me wore fake, green contacts, a white t-shirt with a big heart on it, and had bleached hair tips. After some arguing with her apparently more experience doctor colleague I was told I had Colitis, given some pills for the pain, and an enormous injection of the same which left me grinning, giddy, and unable to read.

I woke up groggy but amazingly without pain for, oh, about half an hour. With a few more doses of the new medicine it became clear that it cured an illness I did not have. The waves of intense discomfort came and went with increased ferocity. By 2pm we were again in a hospital – this time the cities best – talking with what appeared to be a real doctor. Blood and urine tests and an hour of waiting provided the answer: Salmonella. Most likely from my own cooking. In Palo Alto. California.

Vital Stats
Taxi rides: 7
Different medicines taken: 6
Days of mind numbing pain: 3
Doctors visits: 2
Overly easy eggs consumed: 2
Ears accidentally pierced: 1