Dance along the edge

It's our last night in Guadalajara. Kid's sleeping, and I'm doing anything I can to avoid packing for the 7-hour bus trip back to Mexico City tomorrow. Email - how often can I check it? Minute by minute? Oh - must unpack the egregiously-priced laundry the hotel dropped off today while we were out. My nails need trimming. OH WAIT - I can take antibiotics!

In what's either lunacy or a sign that maybe I've been here enough that I've built up antibodies to Guadalajara, I had a lovely iced americano late this afternoon at a little cafe near the Basilica of Zapopan. Now - ice is one of those big no-nos if you want to avoid turista - all sorts of creepy crawlies can live in frozen water, ready to come out as it melts in your tummy.

Or my tummy, as the case may be.

Now - I'm far from manic about the "don't drink the water" stuff. I've always brushed my teeth with it, I eat some street food, and I've never been really sick from it all. I usually do ask, though, "¿Es el hielo de agua purificada?" - is the ice from purified water?

Didn't bother at the Basilica. Odds are good that the answer would be "no" - and it was so hot, and the iced americano was soooooooooooo good...

If I'm counting correctly, today's about the 20th day I've spent in Guadalajara since 8/2006, and about the 60th or so day I've spent in Mexico in that same time period. I have "water vigilance fatigue", I guess. I've had bits of ice before, and every trip I have a day or so where my stomach has to adjust again to the insults I toss its way. Today, though, may have been over the top.

Feeling brave after the ice, we took a bus home from Zapopan - one I've taken before when I've been here for work, but riding it with the kid - and then a several-block walk through crazy traffic from the bus stop to the hotel - nutty.

We're safely here, though. I have a stash of low-level antibiotics, just in case the ice bites back. Wish me luck.

La aventura continúa

I was so happy that I'd found the secret to making diacritics on the Mac, and then discovered that it didn't work with the 'ú' - somehow decided I wanted a German umlaut. So that quest continues, too.

Anyway - we're still here in Guadalajara. After a fairly leisurely morning yesterday, we inadvertantly discovered that the regionally famous Zoológico Guadalajara was not open on Tuesday, the day we'd originally planned to visit. We rapidly reworked the plan and jumped into a taxi for the 30-minute trip across town.

I'm not big on animals in cages, but I have to admire the work this zoo does to preserve endangered species and participate in efforts through breeding and releasing to increase the population of many animals that really don't exist in the wild at all otherwise. It's not a bad place; clearly under some renovation as some exhibits are modern and spacious, while others have animals contained in steel wire cages. It was an interesting way to spend the afternoon, and also a great opportunity for the Kid to run around over the absolutely massive grounds, burning up some energy stored from the previous day's 8 hour bus ride.

As I told him as we were leaving the zoo, "You'll have a great story to tell your friends for years to come, about how your mom brought you to the Zoo in Guadalajara with no idea AT ALL about how to get back to the hotel!" Yeah, the kid knows me well, and wasn't really disturbed by that reality. As we exited the zoo grounds at closing time, we did see "sitio taxis" - taxis that are identifiable, regulated, and assigned to specific sites for pickups - much safer than street taxis. But what's the fun in a $17USD taxi ride back across town when there's the adventure of the Guadalajara bus system for $0.75 US? (And that's pricey compared to Mexico City!)

I've yet to figure out if there's really routes here, or if there's just "ideas" about where the buses travel. I think a route system exists, but it's a mystery to most people. You look at the signs on the front of the bus - sometimes printed, sometimes painted on with what looks like shaving cream or soap - and identify a location that's near where you want to go, or from where you can find your way home. The buses up at the Zoo all had "CENTRO" as an option, and from the Cathedral, I can find most anything.

So we hopped on board the bus. I asked the driver for the number of a bus from downtown that would get us to Plaza del Sol, a mall which is very near our hotel. He pondered that for a few minutes before calling us up - "109". Cool. But not long after that, a woman reached over and told me that going to el Centro was silly; I could get off when her family did in a block or two, and catch a 258 directly to the mall from that same bus stop.

And it worked! About 45 minutes later we arrived back at the hotel, with plenty of pool time for the kid to spare.

Today was considerably less adventurous, as we went to the local campus of my employer for a couple of meetings. I'll spare the details; they'd only bore you, and I'm still on sabbatical after all. Suffice it to say that I really enjoy the opportunity to meet with my colleagues here, and the afternoon went well. As my Facebook status states now, how do I manage to work here more often?!?!

That's a question for a later date. For now - bedtime. Tomorrow's Tlaquepaque, Plaza del Sol (kid needs jeans), and maybe Zapopan. Wednesday - back to Mexico City!

Guadalajara!!!

Three weeks after my last long bus trip from el DF to Guadalajara, I made another long bus trip from el DF to Guadalajara. The first trip was with the Student and the Teacher, who is himself a native of Jalisco, an hour or so north of here, IIRC. Of course, this being Mexico, "time" is fuzzy. Perhaps it'd take an hour to get there, or maybe four. Hard to say.

Yesterday's bus arrived about an hour late, having hit substantial slowing due to one highway expansion project and one utterly inexplicable slowdown. On the bright side, I saw three movies on the bus, which was not a bad bonus. Kid played Nintendo (!) - until Bruce Almighty (Bruce Todopoderoso) came on in English with Spanish subtitles. He thoroughly enjoyed it, seems to have picked up on the message, and spent the rest of the trip watching our progress toward Guadalajara. His tummy trouble all over (and thankfully, it never turned into anything too worrisome), we're back to enjoying the travel and each other's company.

It's hard to believe it's been just three weeks since last I was here. I'm happy to be here with the kid, but really miss the guys, too.

Staying at a different hotel this time - the one a little further out (~4 miles from downtown, maybe) where I stay when I'm here for work. I've spent about 20 nights here in the past two years, and really like the place. Its pool and gardens are a welcome refuge from the craziness of the city. It's a little surreal, though, after having spent most of the past four weeks amidst downtown noise.

Of course, I'd sleep on a rock in exchange for decent Internet access, and because this is one of the places my employer allows us to stay when we travel for work, Internet access is a given. Even with that, it dropped in the wing we're in last night. I'm in the restaurant right now where it's working; if it's not working in the room when we're back, I'll ask to move to a different area. Need to be able to do a few things for work tonight, so it's essential.

And about work ... well, yeah, this is sabbatical, but I'm going to be dropping in at my company's office here on Monday afternoon. There's a few items they've accumulated about which they'd like some input, and a couple new people who need quick training to catch up with the others. Very mixed feelings - love the site & really enjoy the people here, but it's ... work. Inching back from sabbatical, and it's not easy.

This is so NOT OK - utterly inexcusable

"I hope you're not offended, but I sort of guessed that you were Americans. You know what I mean."

A 20-something woman and an older woman who was with her entered the bank's secured ATM area last night, well after dark. The kid & I were in there withdrawing cash, vaguely aware yet reasonably unconcerned about who might be coming in with us. The street was well-trafficked, and the 7-11 next door was filled with people.

The implications of the woman's statement were obvious. She felt safe coming into the secured room to use the second ATM, because neither the kid nor I were committing the offense of "banking while brown". We're not Mexican, after all, and therefore presumably wouldn't rob her of her pesos.

I was so stunned, so horrified, that I only managed to say something along the lines of how, having been here much of the summer so far, I might as well be Mexican. She commented that I looked familiar; I said that I've been in Mexico for several weeks, and felt like I must've been around just about everywhere. We established that we've been at the same hotel the last few nights, and that was that. The Kid & I left and headed back to the hotel.

Of course, once we were a few steps down the block, he asked what she'd meant. I hate those questions, but now that he's ten, I really don't filter my answers anymore. We talked about latent racism, about how people who rely on the media or movies for any sort of cultural understanding are getting a warped perspective, and yeah - a little bit about how women have both realistic and manufactured fears that undoubtedly played into her statement as well. I explained again the difference between fear and vigilance, a topic we discussed a couple days ago when reading a guidebook over breakfast that advised tourists to avoid the Metro and peseros. (We then proceeded to take both.)

He was asleep when I turned on CNN International to catch the news. The leading US story was of the beating death of a Mexican immigrant at the hands of white US teenagers. I think I'm glad that the kid didn't see that - there's no way to explain it at all, other than that it's another example of how the insane "Us vs. Them" rhetoric in the US has real consequences for real people.

I wish I'd have had the presence of mind to simply say "No, I have no idea what you mean. Can you explain why us being American mattered in the slightest?"

I don't deny that there's crime in Mexico City; hey, I've ridden the Metro, after all. At least crime is out there - you see it, you know what it is. Racism is so incredibly pervasive, something that slips in silently, so much so that a gringa who is presumably in Mexico by choice! is afraid to encounter Mexicans at the ATM.

So disappointed, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm sorry. We have to do better than this.

Postus interruptus

Well, I was going to update with photos of Templo Mayor and today's meanderings, but the Kid started complaining of stomach cramps awhile ago, so I'm just checking for inbox essentials & posting this so those who keep track of such things know we're back in the hotel for the night. :) In fact, I'm even writing this in TextEdit up in the room, all the better to do rapid posting once I can get to the wifi after he's asleep.

Words cannot express how much I'm looking forward to Guadalajara and wifi in the room. The kid's happy that there's a pool at the hotel. Oh - and the breakfast is awesome, too. (Staying this time at the hotel I stay in when I travel there for work...) I'm not so sure that's a good thing - but we'll see. (Note to self: put bike on trainer as soon as you arrive back in Oregon. This may be the 1st trip to Mexico in which I gain weight. I blame turning 40, personally, 'cause I'm walking my butt off down here - or so I'd think...)

Guardedly optimistic that it's nothing serious with the kid's tummy. I've been really conservative about what he's had to eat or drink - and myself, too. (See above about 1st trip here to gain weight. No street food for me this time.) Vamos a ver...

I did write a long, philosophical muse about sabbatical, corporate existence, and surfing - but it may too navel-contemplative even for me. I'll take the kid's dyspepsia as a sign to let it sit overnight & see if it's worth passing on by the light of day.

Might be new photos on the Picasa album - might not. Depends on how much time I take online... if not tonight, then tomorrow morning.

Peace out.

Language - by any means necessary...

We're in the hotel dining room. I'm making bus reservations for our trip to Guadalajara on Saturday - I do need to check in at work on Monday, and we'll probably hit the zoo on Tuesday before heading back to el D.F. on Wednesday.

The kid - Nintendo-free at the moment, pending attitude and behavioral adjustments - has been granted a special dispensation to play the one game that's on my borg-issued crackberry - "Brickbreaker". "Mom, does "lento" mean "slow"?

Hey, I'll take it. Except even playing this stupid little game is ratcheting up his aggression - he's arguing with the phone - so its use may be short-lived as well. At least he's picking up vocabulary, though.

Think it's time to head upstairs, charge the phone for a bit, and head out to the Templo Mayor.

More photos are posted at the Picasa Web Album - this one is *not* linked to the slideshow at the bottom of this page, because it has a couple kid photos in it. I'll probably remove this link in a few days, too - but go ahead and check it out for now.

Hasta luego!

So appropriate somehow...

A disclaimer: I am a Catholic. Practicing, even. Ridiculously Catholic, some might say. OK, they do say it. S'ok. If the scapular fits...

So to someone who's "ridiculously Catholic", what could be more sacred than a trip to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe than a lively pilgrimage of approximately 2000 ... clowns?!?!?

My first visit to the Basilica was itself part of a pilgrimage - people from two parishes coming together to spend a week in Mexico City, kicked off with Mass at the Basilica concelebrated by three priests who had served at one or both of the parishes over the past few years. It was an amazing day, an amazing event, one that changed my life in so many ways, including some I probably won't fully grasp for years to come. I was looking at photos from that visit tonight, and felt so grateful - so very, very grateful - for that trip, that Mass, this sacred place.

But today, my 8th or 9th or so visit to a site that's so holy, so precious to me - it was somehow appropriate to encounter the clowns. I never quite figured out where they were from, although it was clearly planned - they occupied the space reserved for pilgrims who have reserved a Mass, and even the Lector was in costume. (Hold the cracks about the presider, ok? I've heard 'em all already...)

Right now, to be a believing and practicing Catholic, I think one might need to be a bit nutty, a bit tolerant of insanity, and a bit willing to see beyond various masks, piles of make-up, and even a fake rubber nose here and there to find the Child of God beneath the artifice. One has to step back and not take this 'life' thing too seriously, and certainly not this 'Church' thing. After all, from what I remember the nuns teaching me as a kid, Jesus wandered around looking very foolish himself, saying stuff like "love your enemies" and talking about God keeping an eye on sparrows, so hey, why worry about ourselves? Craziness, right?

As I often say, I've yet to encounter anything in the gospels that indicate that Christ came to earth in order to bring us religion couched in the most vast bureaucracy and rigid rhetoric known to humanity. Maybe that's in the later books, the ones we get to read after we master that "learn to be loved by God, and share God's love freely with one another" part. I still struggle mightily with that first assignment, so I'll likely never get to the part that's more serious, that's not able to laugh at itself. That's OK. My faith can handle a few clowns. Indeed, perhaps they're precisely what the Church needs right now.

When I rode the moving walkway underneath the Image of Guadalupe today, I looked up, and although I've gazed upon her face dozens of times here, she seemed to be smiling at the scene before her, especially the crowd of pilgrims in funny shoes and facepaint. We are all loved, silliness and masks we hide behind and all. She knows us, she sees us, she loves us, and is is good. So very, very good.

Museo y Pesero y Metro, oh my!

6.5 horas. That's how long the Kid & I spent at the Museo Nacional de Antropología today. If the best way to learn a language is via immersion, today was a day to let him 'learn' rudimentary lessons in "el D.F." - gently, but yeah - in full-body immersion.

We began with breakfast - gratis at the hotel, a little feature which almost makes up for the lack of Internet access. Except they charged me anyway. Oh well. Then a walk down Cinco de Mayo, past Belles Artes, through the Alameda, and over to Paseo de la Reforma. From there, we took a pesero to Chapultepec Park. A definition I found for "pesero" today - "Pequeño autobús que no cumple con ninguna regla de seguridad." Well, yo no cumplo con ninguna regla de seguridad también. Or something like that.

Peseros are probably among the best artifacts to explain - to the degree that such an explanation is even possible - why I so love this place, but that's probably best saved for another post. We found ourselves on Reforma at Juarez - my favorite intersection - pointing at the street to signal the rattling steel deathtrap on wheels to shudder to a halting stop, receive our 3.5 pesos apiece (about $.30), and carry on toward what we hoped would not be our final destination.

The visit to the museum ... well, for the first time in four visits in the past year, I went through all of the rooms. The Kid insisted on it. We also have upwards of 500 digital photos to process. A couple of times I caught myself pleading with him to slow down, to take the time to study what he was photographing. Of course, each time I made the plea, he stopped and asked me to translate the descriptions of the artifacts. Had we kept that up, we'd still be there tonight. There's a lot of artifacts in that museum... lots. The descriptions aren't exactly brief, either.

Another pesero careened us back to El Angel de la Independencia - didn't brave traffic to cross over to see her today, but did note the relative accessibility of the monument compared to the US' Statue of Liberty. We continued on into the Zona Rosa, stopping at Cafebraria el Pendulo for a light dinner. That little bookstore/coffeehouse/restaurant is a close second - after the Basilica de Guadalupe - on my list of favorite places in Mexico City. The Kid enjoyed it as well, and added it to the list of places to visit again before we leave town this weekend.

Our trip back - el Metro! Since the Kid's just 10, we were able to get on one of the "Mujeres y Niños" cars from Insurgentes to Pino Suarez; Pino Suarez to Zocalo had no gender-segregated cars, but wasn't nearly as crowded, either. Having heard all sorts of stories about the Metro, I think he was a bit underwhelmed all in all, other than being impressed by the price - two pesos ($.18, maybe?) per passenger - to go anywhere on the system - anywhere at all.

So now we're back at the hotel. He watched an episode of Pokemon in Spanish (his gratitude will be duly conveyed to the Teacher when next they meet), I checked email & paid a few bills from the hotel lobby. Doing some photo cleanup now, and writing this post in TextEdit, so when I make a pilgrimage downstairs later tonight it'll be quick to post.

I don't think he quite gets it why this place is so important to me, but then again, he looked at me perplexed at lunch today and said "You really can speak Spanish when you want to, can't you." Um... well, yeah. Baby steps. Tomorrow - more immersion, more español, more Metro, and another pesero too, maybe. Today - today is enough for today.

Beginning Day Two

The Teacher called late last night to check in. He gently urged me to reconsider my anti-Pokemon stance with regard to the Kid, at least while we're here. "If he's watching something he's interested in, he will pick up the language more easily." Have I mentioned that the Teacher teaches ... well... Spanish? OK. Point well taken.

I heard back from work people, too - looks like I'll be in the office in Guadalajara next week for a day or two. It'll be interesting - I don't have my laptop, don't have the wellspring of all information about the work they're doing, and have very few resources accessible to help them out - but I do have knowledge and experience, and a really, really strong desire to see these guys succeed at what they're taking on. Kid will likely go to the office with me, which may be an oddity for them - I don't think kids visit work all that often down here - but will be pretty ho-hum for he who first visited the cubicle farm when he was about five days old.

The hotel lacks adequate Internet access, but does have free breakfast, so we're availing ourselves of that now. Off to the Museum of Anthropology later.

Day One in el DF

One day down. Exhausted & heading to bed pretty soon. Just realizing all of the complexity of bringing the child whom I so adore into the city that feels like it's worked its way into my bones. I did nap today, eventually, and it wasn't just the sleep of one who insanely opted to take a redeye with a child, but it was the peaceful dozing of one who finds such comfort in this utterly insane place. And then I woke up to a kid engrossed in Nintendo, and had to figure out a plan to move past that.

It's sort of surreal being back here now. Ten days ago, I was with the Student, wandering around, pretty much open for whatever might come. Now I'm with a kid who speaks no Spanish. I've probably spoken more Spanish in the past 24 hours than I did in any 48-hour period during the 3.5 weeks I was in the country before. It's fun seeing things through the kid's eyes, but also hard to try to translate it all. Everything.

So I'm trying to introduce these two loves to one another. The child was thrilled to find Spanish-language Pokemon on the Cartoon Network in the hotel room. Not so excited about tortas, and even the hamburger he had at the torta place didn't meet his standards. On the other hand, the soup and pasta at Sanborn's - "I'd rate it a 9.5." He's making very halting attempts to use the few Spanish words he's picked up in school, and was fascinated to skim textbooks used in primary schools here and realize that, in general, kids are expected to work much, much harder than he's had to do to date.

Tomorrow's probably going to be the Museum of Anthropology and the Angel of Independence. Maybe we'll add a trip into the Zona Rosa, depending on how time and energy levels go. Tomorrow night we'll see "WALL-E", which was originally on tonight's agenda, but neither of us were sure we'd stay awake in a dark theater. The Basilica of Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe will be on Wednesday... and then there's Thursday and Friday to figure out. We'll probably head west on Saturday - maybe Queretaro, but most likely just to Guadalajara, so I can stick my head in the office there for a few days.

But that's all later. Not now. Now - heading back up to the room to crawl into bed and sleep. I sleep here. And it is good...

Sleep deprivation

(Written earlier at a painfully early hour...)

It's 7:33am in Guadalajara, which is 5:33am in Portland. The familiar red-eye was exhausting this time. Maybe turning 40 pushed me past a milestone that should've signaled that I'm too damn old to be taking red-eyes now. Or maybe it was taking the red-eye with a ten year old who wanted to sleep but never could get comfortable that, in retrospect, was ill-advised.

No matter, I guess - Mexicana is pulling out of the Portland market in September. An employee in Portland told me last night that there's a campaign to save the two daily flights, but I'm not holding out much hope for success there.

Anyway - coffee in hand, writing in TextEdit because the wifi in the Guadalajara airport is down. Child's tired, but entertained with a Pokemon somethingorother on his gameboy. Disinclined to argue since, hey, neither of us have slept in about 23 hours, and a content kid is a happy mom.

American Mommy in Mexico wrote this week about her kids' discovery of the joys of playing with clothespins. I can dream that over the course of these next few weeks, Nintendo will be replaced by a curiosity about this culture into which we've landed. I can hope that he'll see Mexico, but maybe it's more realistic to hope that this little trip will pique his interest and help with the discussions to come about spending a year down here in the not too distant future.

Those discussions can wait, though. Too sleepy now to think about much beyond getting back into el DF, getting to the hotel, and face-planting on the bed.

Mea culpa, mea culpa...

Mea maxima culpa...

Short form:

• Guadalajara


• Tlaquepaque


• Queretaro. Spent my 40th b-day there, and with the exception of the absence of one kidlet whom I so adore, it was one of my best birthdays in ages. Spent some time in the morning wandering around the beautiful Centro Historico, up Cinco de Mayo and down Libertad, and exploring. Lunch at a fabulous Indian restaurant (!), and then an amazing dinner with various surprises from The Student, who plotted at length, it seems, to pull it all off. Queretaro is stunning. Trying to figure out how to wedge at least 1-2 days there into the next bit of the trip.


• Mexico City - again. July 10-11, a bittersweet time. We left late on the 11th, and it also meant the end of three really great weeks traveling with someone who's like a brother to me, time we'll not easily be able to pull off again for a loooooong time - if ever.

And so I'm back in Puddletown now. Kid's hanging with my folks for a bit while I pack. We leave tomorrow to fly back to Mexico City. We're in Mexico for two weeks, then will take a quick trip to Chicago (long story), fly back to Mexico for one more week, and then will be back in Oregon on the 14th. I'll be back in the office on the 19th or 20th, I suppose. Financially, it's what needs to be, and with the economy the way it is right now, turning up my nose at my all-in-all very good job would be sheer lunacy.

But I'm fantasizing about next year. About taking 6-9 months, selling the house, packing up the kidlet, and heading south. He's intrigued by the idea. I'm dreaming...

First, though - packing, and getting ourselves there tomorrow. One day at a time, right? (Patience has never been my strong suit...)

With any luck, blog updates will happen a bit more often. Can't go out at night nearly as much with a 10 y/o kid as I can with a 31 y/o grad student! To be continued...

Next - Queretaro! (Yes, again.)

First - my apologies for the lack of photos here. I'm posting on Facebook - this link should get you to a public album with some Mexico City shots.

There's only one thing I miss about my Windoze-based Stinkpad over my MacBook Air - the Picasa interface to Blogger. Trying to use Blogger to upload photos has been a PITA at best, and mostly hasn't worked at all. Will probably just source images from my Picasa web album, but don't have enough battery life to do that right now.

Anyway - in Guadalajara tonight. The Teacher (who was a friend visiting from the States) has returned home. The Student is off in another town an hour or so away visiting other friends. The Kid should be home in Oregon by now after two weeks with the paternal grandparents. As for me, I'm sitting in the hotel lobby - the only place with working wifi - uploading photos and catching up on email, as well as planning Part Deux of this sabbatical. (More Mexico, a bit of San Jose, a little blip of Chicago...)

Heading up to the room to pack soon and prepare for tomorrow. I'll take a bus around noon to Queretaro, where I'll spend Tues/Wed nights - yes, including my 40th birthday on Wednesday! Student will take a bus from where he's spending tonight and will arrive tomorrow late afternoon as well. No real plans, just a few more leisurely days before heading back to the States on Friday.

Really loving just wandering around Plaza Tapatia here in Guadalajara today - a coupel hours this morning, then more earlier this evening. This is where I first fell in love with Mexico, and you always remember that first hint of love, even as time passes and love changes, grows, deepens...

It's raining - we had a great thunderstorm earlier today, just light showers now, cooling off the hot city. It'll be good to head back east, where it's a little cooler than it is over here.

OK. Rambling. Must be bedtime. Go check out the Facebook photos from above. (I don't think you need to be on Facebook to see them, just to comment.)

(Randomness from yesterday)

Wherein your author finds herself On The Bus

"On the Bus" is, of course, an euphemism for being 'familia', a "friend of Dorothy", queer, gay - something that's amused me greatly these past couple of weeks. It's felt like I've been "on the bus" way more than off it some days. Today - the 7-hour trip from Mexico City to Guadalajara. This, just four days after returning from Queretaro and Celaya, and only three short days before taking a bus back to Queretaro, and then taking another bus from Queretaro back to Mexico City.

On the one hand, I want to stay parked in one place when I bring the kid back in a few weeks. On the other hand, there's just so much to see in this phenomenally beautiful country, and the buses are safe, inexpensive, and a great way to get from place to place to place to place. So very many places, so little time.

I've been a bad blogger the past couple of weeks, owing more to spotty ideas about what to write than spotty Internet access, I'm afraid. I s'pose I can dig through photos and write up a few chronicles of high points of the previous days, but I've been more preoccupied with some of the thoughts that kick in when one finally takes enough time away from the pressure cooker of the borg to just breathe.

Such as: Is this (work) how I'm to be spending the precious moments of my life?

Don't get me wrong. My job (at least as I left it a few weeks ago; heaven only knows what reorgs have taken place or are planned to come - and the one I do know about isn't exactly a source of comfort) - it just rocks. Love it, feel challenged by it, learn a huge amount from it - and the pay's not exactly an insult, either. But - it's all starting to feel like a treadmill, a little less like life, a little more like being a cog in a handful of wheels - work, church, school - with next to nothing left over to even just be with the kid and explore this vast world.

If I go back to a job that's not markedly different from the one I left, or if one of the proposed little pilots out there managed to get some feet in my absence, maybe it's workable for a bit longer. Maybe even 5.5 more years - time remaining 'til my next sabbatical's available.

All things I think about on seven-hour trips across Mexico. My friends on the bus are curled up asleep in their seats, unable to offer any distraction, and as my mind settles into this 'sabbatical' mode, thoughts that are otherwise buried under day-to-day getting through wakeup/kiduniform/schoolattendance/workcommute/meeting/meeting/meeting/meeting/lunchincubiclemeeting/meeting/meeting/commute/kidpickup/homework/dinner/bedtime/workemailcatchup/collapse - lather, rinse, repeat - come to the forefront.

But we're just 15 minutes out of Guadalajara now, my traveling companions will awaken soon, and I can rest again in the more peaceful, mundane question of how to spend the next few hours, and let the next 20 years take care of themselves.