Return of the Chicken

...My aforementioned amazing lunch was not destined to stay down for long.

I don't think it was anything to do with the chicken, though- I went to a cafe that afternoon where lo and behold, they served black "tea". When it arrived, I spent a good while examining the liquid, which looked and smelled more likehot chocolate, yet...wasn't. I drank it anyway, preoccupied with mentally congratulating myself at being able to hold a semi-conversation with the barman. In hindsight, the drink was only luke warm and possibly made from tap-water. Suffice to say, I spent a lot of the next day in the bathroom. Nothing too drastic, though.

ANYWAY.

Yesterday was my first proper day at the newspaper. As I walked in, I was offered a beer(!). I politely delined, saying I could do with some caffeine first. Most excitingly, I was told there were black teabags downstairs and that I could help myself. Which brings me onto a couple more Mexican oddities:

1) There are no such things as kettles. Anywhere.
             I've seen people sitting in the square with ipads, and yet the common way for Mexican people to make tea or coffee is in the microwave. WHAT?! It makes even less sense that using the stove. But cold water, a teabag and 2minutes of radiation is how it's done, apparently.

2) It is seemingly impossible to buy shower gel.

The beautiful cathedral obscured by the ugly and bizarre outdoor ice-rink

            Everywhere I've seen just sells bars of soap, mostly. Makes sense I suppose, just a bit... rustic.

3) Mexican "winter".
           It gets hotter every day and I'm sweating like a beast after my 'shortcut' into town, and yet I stumble across... a outdoor ice rink.


Anyway.

The day was good; I proof-read the entire newspaper, training myself to think in American- English (the wrong way!) and then decided that since it was a balmy evening and not quite dark, I would walk home.

Half an hour later,I turned back and got the bus.

I do this a lot: yesterday (once my digestive system had recovered), I decided to walk to town a different way. Since Leon and the road into the centre are (in my mind) parallel, it makes perfect sense to get to the centre by walking along Calle Leon.

It is impossible to walk to the centre along Calle Leon. And yet I keep trying...

I did however bump into the museum of journalism and graphic design. I wandered in (most places have free entry here, which is great) and attempted to translate some old telegrams until I got a headache. Upstairs was an exhibition by a photographer called Felix Marquez, who specialises in war photography. There were some incredible photos from behind the eyes of a sniper (presumably in Mexico somewhere) as well as some rather poiniant shots of children drawing ´the government´ in a classroom- the kind of obvious our-government-is-corrupt message which seems to pop up everywhere here.

So it´s good to get lost sometimes.

The sugar intensive diet continues: more often than not, my morning cornflakes are replaced with Frosties; my fruit drowned in sugary pink yoghurt. A couple of days ago, dinner was replaced with pancakes and honey. The 8-year-old inside me is loving it, but most of me craves spinach, lentils, porridge and all those bland but super-healthy things which I secretly love and which usually allow me to balance out my chocolate and red wine binges. Oh well. At least the sugar replaces the lack of caffeine, which I would usually need to get going in the mornings.