last night was interesting for numerous reasons. a friend from oaxaca (she is from the capital city not feliztepec) came to town for work and called me to go out. as i dont work on friday until 1130, of course i went. we went to dinner in a fancy-pants area, her company put her up in an amazing hotel in the zona rosa (which is, along with roma and condesa, the trendiest to place in the city right now) and then went to get a drink.

she begins telling me about the teacher strike in oaxaca (yes, almost 6 months later, the kids are still not in school and nothing is really being resolved). a rather beautiful colonial city has gotten uglier and uglier as more people live in the street, spraypaint 400-500 year old buildings with childish graffiti (no matter what you think of the cause, the decorations look like the handiwork of the 8 year olds who are not currently in school- save for the fact that 8 yr olds give a good god damn about politics). the kids cannot go to school with professional teachers (i use the word professional quite loosely here) and when a group of parents got together to teach the kids a few hours a day, they were physically blocked by teachers. sweet.

also, the children cannot go to the parks and play because so many of the union members (it is not just teachers who are angry, many other groups have jumped on the pile) cannot all fit into the shit-strewn (this image is literal and figurative) historical center (zócalo) so they have spread to some neighboring parks to, well, protest (read- make handicrafts to sell to foreigners who stand under spraypainted walls that say- fuera extranjeros- foreigners get out and other anti-capitalist propaganda). thus, the kids are rather afraid to go the parks as they dont want to get involved in any of it. also some undesireables are part of the cause, and this worries parents.

one teacher went against the union and stated that he wanted to return to work. he was found with his throat cut soon after. no arrests were made.

can´t you just taste the pride that i feel when i tell people here in the city i was ¨a teacher in oaxaca¨?

if you are caro, or one of the stragglers from oaxaca who is reading this, you will probably mock me (as caro did numerous times) for my new stance. i have turned a bit on this teacher revolution. true. however, i also feel that the initial struggle was somewhat just. i do not think that this continued effort to remove a (corrupt) politician (i think the two words are redudant: you choose which one you want to use) is winnable, nor do i think that this should stop school (keep in mind the teachers are still being paid normal salary).

see caro, you can leave the country but not completely.

my friend visiting from oaxaca who told me a lot of the above wants the govt (military) to come in and bulldoze everything. including the people. i will leave that for you as a sentiment that many in this country have (not all of course).

anywho, enough seriousness for one day.

while having a few drinks, chatted for an hour or two and listened to some incredibly loud enlgish 80´s music, mixed with mexi-rock. as my friend was essentially dancing in her chair, and doing her best to involve me, i asked if she wanted to go find a club to dance (if you have known me before this country, you understand the lunacy of this proposition coming from me). this, apparently, was what she was waiting for, as she finished off her drink and attempted to kill mine as well in an effort to get to the club asap.

we went to one place with a cover (boo), so i hesitated and she kindly assented. we found a second place (they are literally feet away from each other in this neighborhood) without a cover. my my, i mused when we entered, sure are a lot of boys in here. hmm, there seem to be 4 girls, and one of them is with me.

i need not tell you that i was welcomed with open arms and offers of drinks, until they saw my friend holding onto my arm (the moment of confusion in their eyes was precious). we (my friend and i, not the dudes and i) danced a bit, then, shockingly, closed at midnight. i know. how does that happen?

well, the next place had a small cover but live music. we entered.

mistake.

the band, though energetic, was a salsa band. this is not exactly something i can fake too well (dance floor in center, women and men twirling rapidly, somewhat frenetically, in all directions). next thing i know, i am in the middle of semi-professional dancers and making a fool of myself. not to mention sweating like a whore in church. but, i must say i had a grand time. my friend is a good dancer and did her best to lead me, well, into not hurting her or other people in the general vacinity. success.

i want to learn how to salsa dance. it seems like a lot of fun, but i fear it may be beyond me. let´s be honest- it is beyond me.

in case you were wondering, the answer is yes- i have now shaved outside, in front of about 150 spectators. i also shared a sink and shaved simultaneously with a young man who has the beard capabitlities of me at 13(nonexistant). as you might have guessed, there was a free promotion and i received a vibrating razor (don´t laugh as this is quite real and made by gillette), a little towel that i can now use as a sweat towel at the gym and deodorant. there was no way i was passing this up anyway, but all my students (this happened out in front of the classroom building) were trying to get me to go. one of my best students, whose english and knowledge of coloquial phrases is often frighteningly good, told me the hottest girls in the world ¨touched his face¨ and he fell in love. in his words- ¨billy, you gotta go¨.

as advertised, the girls were gorgeous and argentine (south american women, at least from brazil and argentina, what is up down there?). i walked down the steps from the building and found a beautiful young lady speaking to me in italian-sounding spanish- again, i so want to go to argentina- about the beneits of vibrations aloe-vera and vitamin e. ya, i was not really paying attention to the words perse, but then she reaches out and cradles my face in her gloved hands. weird. her hands, oddly, were vibrating (special gloves that imitate the movement of the razor). she asked me if i wanted to try a demonstration, get free shit, lah blah blah. i asked if she would be in line wth me, she said no. as my heart sank, i saw the prize in the crappy box of cereal- free stuff. also there were plenty of other women to entertain us in line (women were turned away, even those who wanted to shave part of their legs, not just get a free razor for their boyfriends). sorry girls. boys only. yahtzee

i will write more about this next week bc it just turned funnier and funnier. have a good weekend knowing that the hokies crushed clemson (after getting whipped twice earlier this month, i know).