My first full day in Oaxaca was a long one. I woke up in a panic thinking I'd missed my alarm only to discover that it hadn't gone off yet. Perfect for a little yoga and a leisurely breakfast. I spent several hours at the institute explaining that my spanish is terrible only to be met with more tests and lots of waiting. The waiting was not so bad. I met a girl from Yakutsk, a family from North Dakota and a girl from Bavaria who had just spent the past 5 months traveling through Austrailia. There was a couple from Minneapolis who was remarkably annoying and I avoided them at all costs. Turns out the girl from Yakutsk spoke midwestern English, due to a year long stay in Chicago and had just left her position at the Sochi Olympics to study Spanish in Oaxaca. Sort of. The Olympics were over and they did offer her a job with the Paralympics. So I guess she left a job with the Paralympics to study Spanish. Anyway, when I first met her, she told me she was from Russia. Attempts to determine a more accurate location in Russia led to her telling me that she was from northeastern Russia. I dropped it. That's a big god damn country. Until I saw on her intake form that she was from Yakutsk. You're from Yakustk! Famed for being the coldest city in the world. She was astonished to know that I knew of Yakutsk and I was astonished to know that I had met someone from Yakutsk. I mostly refrained, but I really did have so many questions for her. I won't bore you with them. 

After orientation, Bavarian Sarah and I went to check out the mercado. She needed shampoo and I needed sun screen. They didn't have sun screen so I walked out with Cuban rum, soda water, a bag full of mystery fruits and an emergency pop top can of refried black beans. 

Bavarian Sarah was overwhelmed with it all and needed to take a siesta. I went back to my posado where I ran into Sharon, my as yet unknown neighbor, although I was known to her. She was on her way to meet Chrysanne for lunch and asked if I would like to tag along. I can't say I was overly enthusiastic about this but I had no other plans, no other accquaintences and no real command of the language so I tagged along like a little puppy. Chrysanne raved about the chili rellenos, which I will say here, were the worst chili rellenos I've ever eaten. I did not tell her this. She's rather emphatic and a bit bossy and I had quickly realized it is simply better (for me) not to make statments she disagrees with. I have as much interest in arguing about the quality of a fried pepper than I do in dropping a hammer on my foot. I think they would both result in a dull aching that one must patiently wait out.

After lunch, Chrysanne and I walked around Oaxaca for hours. It was International Women's Day and the zocalo was packed with musicians, tourists, artisans, street vendors and protesters. This is pretty typical in Oaxaca I've come to find out. The other day, there was some sort of celebration or concert in El Llanno with a couple hundred adolescents in attendance. It was 8:00 in the morning. On a weekday. 

Anyway, the centro was crazy with people, as usual. We stopped a couple of times for drinks and then to a mescal tasting. (I'm fairly certain I've never had mescal before but I don't wish to rule it out since I've done any number of things I've no recollection of.) One of the bartenders (I imagine there is a better name for them than this since they only serve information with a side of mescal) was a local friend of Chrysanne's named Andrea. Local by way of a childhood in Chicago, but local nonetheless. It fun. Fun with an asterisks, but fun. Two more American girls showed up as well as several Mexcians. My social skills with Mexicans, especially on day two, were pretty poor. They would speak to me and I would panic, stare blankly and feel foolish until they quickly dismissed me and moved onto speaking with less catatonic people. 

After dropping something like $400 pesos at the mescal bar, we decided it would be a good idea to go to her other friend's delicatessen to grab a snack and a mojito. I don't think either of us was particularly hungry although it seemed like a good idea to send in a couple of tapas down to hang out with all the mescal. Chrysanne can be rather charismatic and/or pushy as previously mentioned and she decided to forge a deal between the restaurant owner and myself to trade my styling skills for food and drinks. Which, honestly, is not a bad idea. All these years of working in advertising and commerce and it had never occured to me that I have a potentially barterable skill. Thanks Chrysanne, I'm going to use that from now on.