I will never understand the need to put lime in mayo. It doesn’t need it, it doesn’t help, and it makes my BLT taste a little weird. Not bad, just weird. Oddly enough, I could get to like the change, but it’s still weird.
It’s been a slow week here, which is nice. My morning classes will apparently cancel for the first week of the month, every month. I can catch up on my sleep, but I don’t get paid for that time. So, balance as always. Other than that everything is going well. My five hour Chinese class is still fun for me, but I understand why people keep disappearing. Caught up on homework, checked out a couple martial arts studios, felt sad.
This will be a bit of a rant, and if you don’t care about martial arts, please skip ahead. Now, I saw one of the worst martial arts forms I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some bad stuff. I walked into the studio to talk to the Sifu, and one of the students was doing the Hung Gar Salute Form. I can forgive that he didn’t know the name of the form, or the source, it’s possible that he was never taught that info. Beyond that the form was unrecognizable as real Kung Fu. He was almost standing up straight. His arms were in positions that would never protect against anything or do damage if they hit. He had no power. I kept trying to focus on the conversation, but everything made me sad. I hope that was a warmup, but even then it’s not acceptable to train badly. It’s sad when I see the difference between what others have been taught and what I have. They know nothing of application, weight distribution, or power positions. I like the hours, but I don’t think I can learn anything there.
The other place was Tai Chi for old people, meaning standing up straight and doing something that only barely resembled the form. It’s bad enough that I’m going to go look at a Goju Ryu place that looks promising. Between my hours and the quality of the teachers available, I’m finding it hard to practice down here.
To check out the Tai Chi place I went with the Diplomat over to Parque Metropolitano in Zapopan. Nice park, really big. There was some cool stuff there too. Paths, trees, wide open spaces. It would be better if it was closer, but I still enjoyed it. After he took me to see el Bosque los Colomos. Again, it’s a bit out of the way, but you can tell you’re in the mountains there. The trees remind me of the Christian summer camp I went to as a kid, but missing a few tree types. They have a Japanese garden there and an art school that looks like a castle, but more Mexican. We wandered around for a bit, but we both had a time limit that day. I’ll have to go back when I have the time. Probably next Sunday.
I went out with the teachers on Saturday. It was at a bar, and it’s the first time in my life I went to a bar and really enjoyed hanging out there. It was cool when the German was leaving, but this was a much bigger crowd. I spent time talking to the Russian and the Traveler. It was mockery, laughter, stories, and everything else I love. I definitely want to go to Russia some day, and spend at least six months there. She was directing me to St. Petersberg rather than Moscow for a smaller city. It’s more of what I’m looking for. The Russian mindset fascinates me. Life is difficult enough there that they have trouble understanding how Americans think. We have it too easy most of the time. She also mentioned the city she’s from, Novgorod. There was more to it, but it took me a while to figure out where I knew it from. The Diplomat uses that name in his book for one of the cities. It’s like meeting someone from a dream you had. Kind of surreal.
I also talked to M and a couple other people for a while. That was mostly mockery and shit talking. Idol, a brit, was drunk enough that he sat down and started drinking the Russian’s beer without noticing. Then he got upset when M started to drink his beer. Not upset enough to leave, or sober enough to protect his beer, but upset anyway. Drunks are amusing in small doses.
I actually like it when people randomly start dancing to songs when they come on the radio here. There is no space for salsa, but they dance anyway. I was talking to the Revolutionary until a song came on that he wanted to dance to, then he wandered off. There are plans for a group of the teachers to go dancing one night soon, I think I’ll go with them. It might be as weird as it always was, but after that night, I’m willing to try.
Mexico is different, as much as it is the same as home. I know I’m changing, and I can feel the difference in social demands on me. Its like I’m finally free. I remember walking home wishing I had started this fifteen years ago.