Casa humedo

I finally returned to my tiny house after 5 days of dogsitting in suburbia. Mr Stapler and I live about 30 miles apart - just far enough to be an annoyingly long drive - but it might as well be a different world.

Where he lives, there is a Whole Foods Market that sells $30 a pound cheese at the deli counter. Where I live, La Central Market has a jar of orejillas (pig ear strips) on the deli counter.

I went into La Central tonight to get some milk. When you walk in the door, the smell of Mexico hits you. If you have been to Mexico, you know what I mean. It is part good, like ripe oranges and cinnamon and chocolate, and part vile, like meat that is a little too old, and part just WOW! like that super strong Ariel laundry soap that grabs your nose and twists it sideways.

I was only gabacha in there (the English word for gabacha is gringo LOL). It was about 8:30 and the place was packed with people who were getting ready for dinner. Everyone was buying some pan dulces (sweet breads) and there were tons of kids screaming around and it was a total zoo. I felt right at home for some crazy reason.

I love Mexico and Mexicans and Mexican culture (mostly - the corruption and the cockfighting I can do without). If you want to read about how I studied Spanish in Oaxaca, Southern Mexico, I still have a blog up about it. It is in chronological order, so it takes about 10 posts to get out of the airport, off the plane, and into Oaxaca proper, so if you want to read it, keep scrolling and skipping. I tend to whine a lot, but you already knew that.

My house was still intact despite what felt like being gone forever. Well, it was almost intact. A nice big leak has sprung in the bathroom ceiling and there were drips of rusty water all over. Nothing a bucket and my landlord can't fix...eventually.