this is me in Mexico

MAZATLAN, MEXICO
Friday, February 20, 2004

This is me in Mexico. Colour me happy.

I like me in Mexico. I'm relaxed, I'm warm (I'm relaxed because I'm warm), I don't have to talk to anybody (unless I feel like it, dammit), I'm eating well, resting well...and I look fantastic! (Okay, don't drink the water in mexico, but wash your hair in it as much as possible - from my forthcoming series of travel books Lovely Planet: How to look good all over the world.) Things are pretty damn sweet right now. If I don't show up for rehearsal at Shaw on March 30th, somebody tell Jackie why. She'll understand.

Got here on Monday...just realized that I should probably drop a line to let y'all know that I am alive and well...well.

Mazatlan is pretty awesome. I get the joy (oh, joy) of being five short blocks away from the beach, without having to live on a boring resort. I am right in the middle of town, in el centro (the historic district), which is a very vibrant, happening neighbourhood, not too touristy, and where the language of choice is - gasp! - Spanish! Been doing lots of wandering around, gawking at everything, just enjoying the sights, the sounds, the much welcome change. Trekked up to el faro (the lighthouse) the other day, which is apparently the world's second highest lighthouse after Gibraltar's. Anyone who thinks the stairs up to Len and Kendra's are bad, this would blow your mind. (Or kill you. Yeah, more likely kill you.)

Did hit the beach for the first time yesterday, all you sunseekers will be happy to know. The one nearest me, which is definitely not a tourist beach...a lot of families, little kids playing soccer (sorry, futbol) in the shallows, a couple of guys practising their hitting with a tennis ball and a big piece of driftwood . (Beisbol is bigger here than in most of Mexico.) Burying your boyfriend in sand seems to be a popular pasttime...I saw lots of this, including one guy who was buried up to his neck and fast asleep, with a little baby (not buried) asleep on a blanket next to him. Cutest thing I ever saw. I wish I'd gotten a picture, but I didn't want to risk disturbing them. Plus, I didn't know where mama bear was, and I'd have felt strange if she'd caught me. ("Just look at the cute little Mexicans, wouldja Maude?") Actually got a bit burned in a few places - okay, laugh, but don't you wish you had my problems?

Wandered up to the Zona Dorada (the golden zone), last night. This is the crazy touristy part of town. confirmed my suspicions that I would hate it. The walk there is through a somewhat seedy rundown area that reminded me of Niagara Falls. (You know, that disgusting part that makes you want to puke?) I kept going till I got to where it started to be a bit ritzier ( a little like Vegas, I imagine - or the shinier part of Niagara Falls: you know, the other part that makes you want to puke?) Very happy to be where I am instead.

Whoever said it - I think it was you, Josh - you were right. I'ma need a bigger stick. But I've never felt unsafe, and the come ons crack me up, in part because they're so blatant and absurd. There's the standard stuff (what's your name, come over here kind of stuff - boooorrriiiing) but some of the (usually older) guys, probably because I'm a tourist and they realize that words are lost on me, just resort to looking me up and down and making weird grunty growly noises. I can't help it, it makes me laugh. I'm forever walking away trying to keep a straight face. Did have a decent talk (in English) with a Mexican-American guy I met while walking the Malecon (the road that winds along the sea) last night. He actually wanted to talk about religion and politics et cetera, but then he kept throwing in things like "But you know how you'll really learn about religion? Have sex with me! No, no, just kidding....but seriously, ha ha, I live right over there..."! Very smooth, Carlos.

Speaking of smooth, did you know that that's what "Lisa" translates into in Spanish? Okay, it can also mean flat, but smooth sounds slightly more flattering, don't you think? Learning a little Spanish every day. Every time I'm about to go out, I study up on new things I might need to say or want to try out that day. Then I come home and look in my dictionary to figure out how close I came to actually saying what I was trying for. The tiny distinctions are everything - I just found out that what I had thought was an all purpose "sorry", lo siento, is usually reserved for occasions like "I'm sorry your wife and child were run over by that bus". So, in Cuba last year, I may have been going around saying things like "My condolences, my Spanish isn't very good." I have discovered a favourite bartender, at Jazzbar (the local jazz bar - go figure), Hugo, who serves food and drinks and teaches Spanish at the same time. Every time he brings something, he explains patiently what it is called in Spanish. Soon I will be an expert on the names of booze, food and cutlery. It is a bit frustrating being reduced to the linguistic state of a three year-old ("I want this. I want that. How are you. I am fine."), but I have to get over wanting to know everything instantly. Where is that program from the Matrix when you need it? Plug me in.

Anyway, I didn't plan to write a book, but there it is. I'm off to the market now to buy all the things that I couldn't carry and/or pronounce yesterday. By the way, the produce...oh ma gad! I've never felt this way about an avocado before. (Me, making love to my avocado: "I swear I've never had it like this.") Must have avocados...must get more mangos. You probably won't get many more of these emails (is that a collective sigh of relief I hear?)...I mean, how many times do you really need to hear " Learned another word today. Read another book. Tan one shade deeper."? However, Carnaval starts tonight, so if I can't contain my excitement about that, I'll soon be here, typing away. Write me and let me know what's happening in all your places.

Un abrazo,

Lisa