I am Pam Holland

The traffic in Mexico city is horrific. Add a little rain, peak hour and sheer population and the combination is rather daunting for a gal from the burbs.
Then again it was an experience….
One I’ve had.
It took hours to get home from class last night.
An ambulance with sirens blaring managed to squeeze through the middle of the lanes.
Young men tried to sell umbrellas, three for $4 to the waiting throng.
You could almost buy an entire meal as you waited, buns, nuts, and dozens of other things… the vendors risking their lives in the pursuit of a few pesos.

So I decided to leave the house early this morning for the trip to the airport. The rain hadn’t ceased and the traffic was tolerable for those leaving the city but at a complete standstill for those going into the city.

As I was sitting in the taxi, chatting in Spanglish to my Taxi driver, I was hoping that  the smell of fire had left the white house…. I can’t resist an open fire, the wood was there, the paper was there, I found the matches and set a fire in the fire place…. but somehow the chimney didn’t completely accommodate the smoke and it was eye stingingly uncomfortable watching CNN  in my personal white lounge….

Oh well, once again it was an experience.

I’ve been thinking of my class, of my students who traveled long distances, some even put off surgery…. “Can’t have it yet I’m going to a quilt class” !!!! imagine the Drs response.

2 ladies who give lectures on Psychiatry all over the world… played hooky to come to class, some ladies came with their bodyguards and sadly one lady had to leave because her husband had been hijacked at gunpoint and his car and it's contents were taken.

On to the airport

I like having a man wait at the taxi stop and take the luggage out of the car for me… $2.50 delivered to the counter.

I relaxed in the pleasantness of the lounge and about 15 minutes before scheduled departure I decided to go to the gate.

Gate 8 showed the illuminated board.

But I made a mistake and not being able to read spanish I ended up at gate 8 baggage. All I had done was go down a few stairs…."No, you must go out and through security again"

B……. Ok, find gate 8 again… No, that's going to Cancun.

Look at the board again…. Oh, now it's gate 27, miles away and the clock was ticking.

I nearly ruptured my phoofer valve.

No, you must go back to gate 15.

At gate 15, I was told to go to gate 10. Oh, bless them there was my plane and I had time to sit and pretend  was cool,  calm and collected.  whoow!!!

So now I'm in Teotitilan

This is a rural Mexican village

 

In almost every doorway you find wool being dyed and hung to dry.

 

Now I have to tell you my room is bright yellow, the curtains and bedspreads are orange my desk is bright blue with a bunch of fresh flowers on it and I look out over the village and the central courtyard.

Delightful.

The weather is lousy – I hope it improves…