Keyboarding

It's not all fun and games here in Guanajuato. I mean, I've found a serious problem here. Well, not just here, but everywhere in Mexico. And in all Spanish-speaking countries for that matter.

Here's the keyboard that gives me fits every morning when I use it from 8:30 until 12:30. Why? Because it's a Spanish keyboard and not all the symbols are in the same place as an English keyboard. It can drive me crazy, particularly if I'm in a hurry. The key that fouls me up the most is the apostrophe key. I never knew I used so many contractions. But look: I've already used six contractions in this entry, and I'm not even finished yet. Wait! There's number seven, followed by the eighth. Oh, good grief.


Look closely (and you can do that by clicking on the photo), and you'll see that the apostrophe is below the question mark key, and in the apostrophe's "normal" spot (on my keyboard, anyway), there's an N with a tilde (Ñ). I'm usually pretty nimble on the keyboard, but not on this one. And anyway, that's not even the normal question mark key; it's where the dash and underline keys are supposed to be! And that's just the tip of the problem iceberg when I type on this keyboard.

And then when I get back to my apartment and my laptop, I spend at least 7 minutes reorienting myself with my normal keyboard.

Life is rough in Mexico. For this gringa anyway.

And if you've been counting, there are 15 contractions in this post. And it's a short one, too. (Oops, make that 16!)

It's a good thing I'm not typing in Russia.

The Sun's Out!

This is what happens when I buy an umbrella.

The sun finally came out today and stayed out, although right about now I can see some thunderclouds building up. I hope I didn't type too soon ...

Even though my little apartment is perched up on the hill in La Valenciana (just outside Guanajuato), there are sounds of activity all around as neighbors take advantage of this short-lived dry spell.

I took advantage, myself, and shot a few photos before heading to Celia’s office. The grounds here at the school are nothing short of beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that I sometimes wonder if living in the desert was the right choice. But then I look in the mirror and see my hair frizzed up from all this humidity, and say, “Nah!” I know I’m a desert gal. I’ve known that a long time, maybe since my very first trip to the Big Bend when I was 15.

Let’s see that was how many years ago? No way. I can’t even count that high. And I probably wouldn't tell you if I could.

Instead, I’ll share some of the photos I snapped of the school grounds so you can feel jealous. Just keep in mind, the humidity’s above 90 percent, okay? Put on a hat.


The is the gate to the courtyard behind my apartment. Come on in!


It all looks very peaceful and tranquil, doesn't it? You'd never know that there's lots going on outside these garden walls: neighbors hammering and nailing (isn't that the same thing), children screeching and playing, big trucks going "beep beep beep" as they back up, dogs barking, you name it.

And if you look really closely at the photo above, you can see part of my little balcony on the fourth floor. It's behind that mesquite tree.

These are the steps leading to the door of the office where I spend my mornings. Answering emails and the phone. Practicing Spanish, taking Spanish lessons, chatting with the teachers and students. It's a happy place.

The Rainy Season

This is the view late afternoon from my little balcony, looking toward the city from Valenciana. If you look really closely, you can see some of the city lights already twinkling in the distance. I landed in Guanajuato during the height of the rainy season. True to form, there are thunderboomers at all hours of the day and night. If it’s not raining, you can see where it is in the distance. It’s lush and green here and it seems like whatever can bloom is doing just that. It’s great weather for the skin, but I’m destined to one long, frizzy bad-hair month …

Fortunately, there is wireless access in the little apartment where I’m staying. That’s a good thing because there is no telephone and no television. I plan to do lots of reading (remember all the books I brought in the GMOG* suitcase?). I’m looking forward to the weekend so I can read my fool heart away. (*Great Mother of God, best said with a strong Scottish brogue.)

Weekends are crowded in Guanajuato. That’s when the folks from nearby cities, particularly León, come into town to party all weekend (that’s what I’ve been told anyway). Guanajuato’s already pretty crowded and is downright claustrophobic sometimes for this desert-dwelling mama, I can tell you.

I spent most of my morning confused. I’m doing some light office work for Celia, the director of the Spanish immersion school where Steve and I studied in May. If you’ve never used a Spanish keyboard, then you’re in for a real treat. The keys are basically the same, but a few are changed around. For example, instead of the semicolon/colon key, there’s one for “Ñ.” And I have no idea where the @ key is; I haven’t found that one yet. Anyway, there are just enough differences to make typing a wee bit confusing.

When I tried Google, it was Google all right, but everything was in español. It took me awhile but I finally figured out how to get to Google in ingles.

After my español lesson this afternoon, I trekked into the city, which is way, way down the hill from Valenciana where I’m staying. Fortunately, one of the maestros from the school drove by and picked me up. I swear, I’m not the spring chicken I used to be. The altitude here is above 7,000 feet and I was huffing and puffing like Popeye, only not as sexily. (I guess “sexily” is a real word because it passed the spellchecker.)

I bought 100 pesos’ worth of minutes for my cell phone, then an umbrella. I walked to the city centro and purchased groceries, enough to get me through the next five or six days. I love shopping in Mexico. The ripe fruits and veggies are so fresh and fragrant, it’s hard not to just eat ‘em on the spot. I was hungry, but resisted the street vendors’ tasty tortas and burritos; I was determined to save some money and eat my own cooking.

I caught a local bus back to Valenciana and walked up the hill, then down past Mexico's most famous--and productive--mine back to the apartment. The street is cobblestone, and the stones range from tennis balls to footballs in size. It would be more appropriate to call it cobblerock. Not the easiest walk to make while lugging groceries. Heck, it's not even easy without lugging groceries. I’ll be glad when I get used to the altitude in a few days.

My little apartment has the cutest little kitchen (that’s cocina in español). But I have to admit, the first thing I did after unpacking groceries is pop open a Coke and savor the taste of a Coca Cola made with real sugar and not corn syrup. Yum. One was so good, I had to have another. At this rate, I’ll go through my six-pack before morning.

Here are a few photos of my cute little apartment:

And here's the 'necessary room,' complete with washer and dryer (you can't see them in this photo, but they're really there off to the left).

It's late and I need to get up early so I can fight the Spanish keyboard again. Mañana!