No Puedo Suportarla!

I HAVE to return to Mexico, and soon!!! I had a dream about a reunion with my ISA girls (ISA is the organization through which I traveled abroad) and it was tear-filled and wonderful and I miss that life so much, three years later. Alison and Jess are the only ones who read this who can identify with the places I name but I hope everyone can appreciate how gorgeous these photos are that I found on the Web. (Alison, algun dia tenemos que viajar alla juntos, en serio. Debemos ir este verano/otono porque nuestra otra amiga no puede ir a CO con nosotros, entonces, propongo que nos vamos.)

I miss meeting in front of Teatro Juarez with our other gals, Jess and knowing that any night we could pick up a few guys on the steps to be our dates for a night of dancing. Capitolio was my favorite for dancing, Colorado was Jess' but the first night we danced in GTO was at Havana with the viejitos; I also remember that that's where Alissa stole the show dancing with Felipe while Amber downed the pina colada I bought (although she claimed to be lactose intolerant...more like cheap!). Do you remember how Elisha and the other gals loved WhyNot? We liked El Bar above ISA and pretty much anywhere that had salsa dancing.

I was and am still obsessed with Cafe Tal, their bitter hot chocolates are unsurpassed and their coffee was great too. I sat in there for hours drawing, thinking, reading...it was fabulous. That little pastry shop where Lisa always bought us pastries for dinner was nearby and we always had to resist buying yummies there on the way to school (except once we gave in...ONCE in five weeks! Not too bad). It was just past Jardin de Embajadores.

Jess, I can't believe I'm saying this but I really miss puffing up those hills with you, you slowed down for me and didn't tell me ever but I knew. Thanks for not leaving me behind; you know I would've gotten so lost.

Finally, I remember our totally unprepared hike to La Bufa, repelling down, having our leader drive off and leaving us miles above the city, and us collapsing at Cafe Sol and eating a ton of food and having beer. SUCH a great day.

There's Delicious Salsa at Cafe Sevilla

Fifteen-hundred miles away, my mother chops jalapenos, stews tomatoes, and minces onions for her homemade salsa. It's labor intensive, time consuming, and very tasty. Five miles away I made some of my own salsa, it's a lot hotter than anything my mom would make, mostly because I'm using my whole body to do so.
My old friend Alison, new friend Rose, and I went downtown to Cafe Sevilla for some dancing last night and though my mother's salsa is delectable, it can't quite compete with the experience of clubbing at San Diego's funnest salsa bar. I didn't dance as often or as well as my girls, but I had a fantastic partner and I'm still on a natural high; of course, there haven't been many hours between us shutting down the place and my 7:30 A.M. work day. That's what coffee's for.
I will look my whole life and not find another experience quite like salsa dancing, a myriad of colognes and perfumes rise off of the bodies on the dance floor and mingle with the sharp smell of sweat; the effect of which is intoxicating in and of itself. Add to that the positively primal selecting of partners, and intimate moves and you have salsa. I danced with this one guy who was huge and seemingly immovable, but he was light as a feather on his feat, solid as a rock when he rolled me in, and strong as an ox as he rolled me out and guided my turns.
When I was in Mexico, it often occurred that I would start out with a man by doing the basic steps, when he would squeeze my fingers and inform me "Vamos hacer poemas," indicating I should get ready for some turns and tricky moves. The translation of this is "we're going to make poetry". I don't think I'm good enough to call any of my moves poetic, so that's why I think it's important for me to go out again tonight to keep practicing, don't you?