Great Mexican Road Trip

Well...not really. But I've never been to Belize. And so when all my friends went home yesterday from Cancun I rented a car and started driving. Belize is about five hours away and along the way I stopped and visited the ruins at Tulum and Coba. 

When I left the car rental shop, I rolled down the windows (manually, of course) to let the wind blow through my hair. The freedom! A single American blonde woman traveler just rented a car to drive around in it! Look everybody! Look at me!! 

Immediately on the right hand side of the road was a taco stand and I was starving. So I pulled over into a parking lot. This kind of stuff is fun for me because:

1) I love food

2) It forces me to speak in Spanish

3) It's a mini spontaneous and very safe adventure

4) I love food

So I ordered up two tacos and they fried them right there in front of me. I loaded up on the pico de gallo. "muy picante?" I asked, "medio" they said and then I asked "por Mexicanos...or por Noruegas?"and they laughed! They laughed at my joke! Everybody! Look at me!!

I paid them $1.75 and then stood there and ate the tacos with my new side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends like a real local person. 

I thanked them and went to get in my manual stick shift Mexican rental car.

Which I realized had one of those funny reverse situations.

You know, where you can't really just put the car in reverse? You have to perform a pushing motion on the stick and then move it. But that didn't work. I tried for several minutes, while all of my new side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends watched in confusion. ...But wasn't she a single American blonde woman traveler? Shouldn't she be able to put a car in reverse?

---

I rolled down my window again (manually, of course) and yelled: "POR FAVOR! AYUDAME!!" and one of my side-of-the-road-taco-stand friends came running over, reached across my dumbfounded face and pulled up on this silly lever and slipped 'er into reverse.

And then I drove away, the wind in my hair once again.

The Mexican Chevy Aveo: Man's most complicated car

Kady

Kady.

That's how I spell my first name. It wasn't my idea obviously -- my mom came up with it. She and my dad wanted to name me K.D., but when they wrote it down they didn't like how it looked, thank goodness and then they added the A and the Y and that's how it all worked out. As far as I know, I was like the only Kady in the whole universe until Facebook was invented and now there's like a million. Dang facebook. 

ANYWAY, I don't freak out too much about correcting people when they go to spell my name with a T, unless it's important -- like medical stuff or for tax purposes or whatever. 

So the point of my story is that when you say the name Kady out loud, it sounds exactly the same as Katie, in America anyway (British or Irish people will emphasize the 'T' or Spanish speaking people say it differently tambien). Since it's my name, I can hear the difference, but it's SO SUBTLE. When I say my name, since I know how it is spelled, I can tell that it's just a teensy bit different then when I would say the name of a friend named Katie. And I can tell when the person saying my name knows how I spell it. It's my sixth sense.

Isn't this INTERESTING???

Get to the point.

OK so my point is that this morning I stopped into Caribou Coffee (the Midwest's answer to Starbucks) and ordered a dark roast. They always ask your name so they can write it on the side of the cup. I said "Kady" when prompted and the be-acned-teenager behind the counter said, "Is that with a 'D'?"

I swear in 37 years nobody has ever picked up on the subtle pronunciation difference or asked me if my name were spelled with a 'D'. Ever. I was like, "YAH. HOW? HOW DID YOU KNOW?" He said he could hear it in the way that I said it. 

Fallopa-who?

My friends Tara and Beth and I used to eat lunch together every day in Junior High. One day in the cafeteria, Tara started coughing. She grabbed her chest, looked at Beth and me and said, barely audibly:

 

 

"I got something caught in my fallopian tube."

Nope. In case any of you were wondering...



Esophagus. She had something caught in her esophagus:

 

I Call this My Nicaraguan Finger Wave

I stole this .GIF from Chelle at Coffee and Zombie Movies.*

I learned this little gesture in Nicaragua and let me tell you it really works. If you want to say no a little bit more forcefully than usual, for example when you get off a train and people attack you with signs for their hostel, but you already have your hostel booked. Maybe they won't leave you alone.

Or maybe a scary bum is following you trying to get money. You already said no politely. Maybe you need to shake him.

Just wag your finger and Voila! UNIVERSAL SNUB.

*I don't know where she stole it from.

First World Problems

Last week, as I was removing the 37th staple from the 37th bank statement in a mortgage loan file that I was preparing to send into underwriting, I couldn't help but feel VIOLENTLY ANGRY towards the loan officer who stapled them all together. It's like, I know where the bank statement stops and also where the bank statement ends. Do we really need to be stapling them? My nails are just tore up, guys. TORE UP.  Gosh my job is so irritating. Probably the worst in the whole world. I can't think of any worse job in the whole world. I'm paid hundreds of dollars a day to remove staples. It's not enough if you ask me.  

These mobile salespeople in Vietnam would agree that I am so mistreated:

I waved to this person and they waved back. I assumed it was "Hi!", but in retrospect I realized it was actually, "don't take my photo."

It's a difficult yet effective way to sell stuff on the go. You can even operate a food truck this way. Got a  pho (noodle soup) business? Bring it to the people. I saw a woman with a pot full of soup on each side and asked her if I could try lifting it.

O. M. Gee!  I felt like a champion power lifter.  It was so heavy.  HEAVY.  That smile is actually a wince.

So, you cart around thousands of pounds of merchandise hoping to sell a couple bucks' worth each day. Later on I told her about the staples and the low pay. (In sign language of course.) She was like, "Lady. You got to QUIT. That sucks."

Hal's Response to My Feature on Forbes.com

I called my mom so we could freak out together about my Forbes.com interview, and my dad hopped on the line.

"You're endelved* on MY heart, Kady.  Screw Forbes."

Then my mom told me about how she had to explain my Angelina's Leg photo to him and he didn't get it, even after five minutes of explanation.  He piped in again.  "That's a raunchous* lie.  It was more like 18 seconds.  And just because I don't agree with crazy people doesn't mean I don't get it."

*Glossary:

Endelved:  Engraved, written permanently, or something.
Raunchous:  "Excessively great", according to my dad.

*Please be amazed at my ability to spell properly the words my dad makes up.

Siri-ously?

A friend asked Siri (the voice recognition software on the new iPhone 4S),

"Siri, what do I do about a hangover?"

Siri responded,

"Calling Kady Hexum", and started dialing me.

Siri-ously, I wouldn't have a clue.

May December Bromance

When I was staying in Guatemala at Lake Atitlan (Remember the Guatemalan toilet microphone?), my hostel dormmate mentioned that she had been horseback riding with "Jack"*, the older gentleman who was staying at our hostel.  Apparently he was an expert horseman and had a place across the lake where they gave him a good deal.

The next day I asked him if he would be interested in taking me to this special horse place so that I could ride.  We made plans to go, but also ended up having coffee together.  He told me about his deceased wife which was very sad, and then we talked about our travel history (as will happen over coffee at hostels) and then made more plans to get together that evening to play Scrabble.  We had dinner that night at a fabulous place by the name of Restaurant Fe (if you're ever in San Marcos).  I didn't beat him at Scrabble, but I came very close.  He was impressed by that.  Probably because he thinks all women are stupid.  The fact is, he was stupid.  He kept trying to argue that 'dem' was a word, because it was an acceptable abbreviation for the word Democrat.  He also pushed for 'prof' for professor.  In his defense, he is British.  In my defense, I am right.  Scrabble has never and will never allow abbreviations.

SCRABBLE 101.  AM I RIGHT?

Anyways, based on that little blip, I'm sure you can agree that I actually won the game, because I didn't fight every little battle like I fought the Abbreviations Battle.

The more I hung out with him, the more I realized that he was kind of flirting with me.  He was at least 60 if not older and so I blew it off.  I was completely alone in Guatemala and really wanted to go horseback riding, OK?

"Jack" is one of these people who will say he speaks Spanish.  But he doesn't.  My Spanish is bad, but I can tell when someone is crap at it.  Trust me, he was crap at it.  His pronunciation was the worst part.  No, I lied.  The worst part was his propensity to correct and teach others Spanish when his Spanish was so bad.  This misplaced arrogant attitude translated to horseback riding too.  I could tell he assumed I would be a complete novice due to the way he kept coaching me on the most basic things.  I just sort of ignored it all and gave my horse the "YAW!" and ran on ahead to get away from him.  This only served to further impress him.  Also he assumed I spoke no Spanish and insisted on translating everything for me, and finally I just spoke over him and had full on conversations in Spanish with our guides.  Again, he was impressed.  I can only guess that his love for me just kept on a-growin', because I had to purposely avoid his attempts to be alone with me the whole day.

The whole point of this story is to give you a gross quote from Jack.

At one point during the day I caught a glimpse of my reflection and said, "ha I look like a boy!"

He looked at me, slowly, up and down over the rim of his glasses and said,

"There's something very non-boyish about you", (in the creepiest way imaginable.)

You're wrong, Jack.  BOY.

Boy.

Boy.

Later I found out he had been through all the girls at the hostel, doing the same dog-and-pony show.  These girls told me that days before I arrived, his girlfriend who had driven all the way from the US with him had just left him there all by himself.  He must have forgotten to mention her when he was garnering sympathy by telling me all about his dead wife.

This is the only photo I got of Jack and it's kind of accurate.

*Names have not been changed.

Seriousely [sic], "Matt"?

I saw this sign today and it begs a very obvious question:  

Is this a misspelling, or does somebody named Matt have a Washateria?  A play on words would be kind of cute, I admit.  I just couldn't shake the feeling that somebody's doing it wrong.

I had to know.  So, I googled "Laundry Matt", and got:

Showing results for laundromat

Search instead for laundry matt

Search Results

I clicked "Search instead for laundry matt" and found this sorry chat discussion board for Maltese dogs with the following question:

wagi****65 Maltese Guru Name: B***** Dog's Name: M****, M**, B**** & T***** Join Date: Jan 2006 Location: *********, ** Posts: 4,703

I'm so stressed I have to go to the ghetto to wash my comforters.  Although I have the extra large machine, it's really not big enough for comforters to swish around and wash really good. Wonder why the ghetto is the only neighborhoods with laundry matts? People in good neighborhoods have things to wash sometimes too. I'm always afraid of catching some kind of nasty desease. What do you do with your comforters? I use to dry clean until I found out they could be washed. __________________

Ugh.  I guess people in "good neighborhoods" are ignorant sometimes too.  (Maybe you should train your four dogs NOT to pee on your bedspread so you can avoid all those nasty deseases [sic] that everybody catches at laundry matts [sic].)

I really wanted to believe that the "Laundry Matt" was being "cute", but after I saw its next-door neighbor, the Burrittos Grille LLC...I don't know what to think.

And That's the Toot

My cousin Jacqui takes an elderly woman named Mrs. Osgood into Austin to have therapy about once a month.  She is the properest of propers and would certainly NEVER allow her children to use the word fart. 
One week Jacqui had to bring her daughters River and Willow along for the ride.  Jacqui jumped out to pump gas, and as she stood beside her car, heard River say, "One time, when we were in Minnesota, my mom farted so loud it sounded like a tuba!"  (p.s. I have heard Jacqui fart and 'tuba' is a perfect description.)

Of course, Jacqui laughed hysterically while Mrs. Osgood sat absolutely stone-faced.  Later, Jacqui asked Willow why River said that.  Willow told Jacqui that she was explaining to Mrs. Osgood about how she was so relieved because she had just passed her standardized testing in math.  She had been struggling but Jacqui and Willow prepped and studied and worked very hard and Willow ended up not only passing, but getting a perfect score of 100!  Mrs. Osgood said, "your mom must be a very good tutor!"

Willow said, "yah, she's the best!"

Which reminded River of the time in Minnesota when Jacqui "tuted" so loud it sounded LIKE A TUBA.

River, 5 and Willow, 10

Painting Day

Today, I helped Cristina paint Aldo and Jacina's bedroom.  I got woken up at 8:10am which was no fun but I was glad to roll out and help at about 9:00.  It started out pretty fun.  My job was to cut in the corners and trim and I must say I'm not too shabby.  But I'm a little impatient and when I put the ladder in the wrong place, I hurriedly tried to fix it and ended up falling on my butt and spilling paint everywhere.  In a different language it wasn't as funny because I couldn't really assure them that I was alright and that I was mostly just embarrassed.  They were wiping me and being very sweet.  If I was them, I'd be like, "stupid American", knowing I couldn't understand.  Maybe they did.  Like, feign compassion while speaking in a soothing voice saying, "I can't believe how dumb you are."  That's what I would have done.

Only the finest lingerie will do when painting in Brazil.

After the fall.

There is paint in my armpit.  I guess they didn't get it all when I got wiped.

Later when we said our goodbye hugs, I asked Luciana,

"Do I smell like paint?"

And she said, "No. You smell like a sweat people."



Here's a little idea of what it is like to be me for the last three weeks, surrounded by funny sounds:

"OK!"

Guess what this gesture means in Brazil? 

Like me, you might have assumed it means "OK".  Because that's what it has meant your entire life.  It doesn't.  It doesn't mean that at all.

Actually, here, it means something worse than "asshole".  And somebody finally told me what I've been flashing around at them for eight days.  And as you can imagine, since I am walking around in a country where I CAN'T COMMUNICATE WITH ANYBODY, I've been flashing it plenty.  I guess I like to let people know I'm "OK".  Think about all the times you might use it, especially if you didn't speak the language, for example:  'This food is great', 'I can see just fine from here', 'I got a photo', 'thanks for the beer', 'I understand', etc, etc, etc. 

SO.  Here's how to really say, "OK" in Brazil.  You simply turn your asshole on it's side, OK?

Or, just go with another old favorite.  (I wonder what this one really means?)

A Few Notes on Brazil

I have crawled inside of my own brain in Brazil.  They're all talking a funny code that I can't understand.  To me, Portuguese sounds like Italian, Russian, French, Spanish, Swedish all rolled into one.  I have two friends who speak English, and the rest speak Spanish, so I can communicate a TINY bit with them, but for the most part I just zone out or focus on people's blackheads.  So far I have learned how to say:

Bom dia (bom jee-ah) "Good Day"
Ou no se falla Portuguese "I don't speak Portuguese"
Ah tay "Uh-oh"

That's it.  Otherwise I am attempting to speak Spanish to Portuguese people.  Hilarious!  And I'm not a novelty here.  For the first time in a while, there are blonde ladies running all over the place and so people assume I can speak Portuguese.  Which is why I learned the second phrase.  It doesn't stop me from trying some times to make jokes.  For instance, on the bus the other day, I was sitting next to a lady, and we passed the military office in Florianopolis.  There were six soldiers outside.  One was sweeping and 5 were like, watching him sweep.  So I made a hilarious pantomime joke about "how many soldiers does it take to sweep?"  She laughed, and I congratulated myself.  I guess some things are just universally hilarious.

Here instead of Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc., they have "Saturday and Sunday" as normal (and the same as Spanish = Sabado and Domingo) but then Monday - Friday are 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th.  Segunda, Terca, Quarta, Quinta, and Sexta.  If I am not spelling them right, sue me.

So Wednesday the 4th becomes Quarta la Quarta.  Also sometimes for Friday they just say Sex.  HAAAAAAhahaahaa  Crazy Brazilians!

"Digale el Mundo mi Historia!"

("Tell the World My Story!")  My favorite catch phrase of the Granada 6.  Dustin would shout it over his shoulder anytime he was about to do something dangerous.  Like ride off on this crazy 125cc hog with nothing but an ill-fitting quasi-helmet protecting his brain.

Also he would say, "hey guys check this out, it's gonna be awesome" a lot and we'd stop what we were doing and  look and see something not awesome like this.

And my favorite inside joke of the week was the fact that poor Ted just couldn't get the currency of Nicaragua straight in his mind. They are called cordobas. Accent on the first syllable. COR-do-bas. He kept calling them cor-BAHT-ohs. So anytime the situation called for a fake-money joke, we kept offering to pay him in cor-BAHT-ohs.

Here's poor Ted after the hammock broke from three feet in the air.

I am a Creepy Old Man

So I'm at the beach the other day, and I saw this little guy run past.  His butt was hanging out, he had ice cream all over his face, and it made me laugh hysterically at how cute he was.  Then he started karate chopping the air and running around in the waves, making his dad look and laugh.  I wanted a picture.  Or three.  So I went running after him with my camera.  But he only faced me for the photo.  Obviously.  So I told him in Spanish to turn around so I could get a picture of his butt.  His dad was standing there, so I felt weird and creepy but still I told him, "I just want a picture of your kid's butt."  I believe the word I used though was 'culo' which technically means 'a**'.  You see, Spanish is my second language and I'm not so aware of what words are terribly offensive in which countries quite yet.  But the dad didn't flinch thank goodness and told his kid to turn around for me.  Sad.  After I laughed maniacally (as usual) and took my photos, the kid took off running again.  But I loved him, and so I threw my camera to my friend and chased him screaming "I'm gonna GET you!", while trying to actually GET him, arms outstretched.  And then he fell in the water and later on my friends told me because I was chasing him with my arms out it looked like I totally pushed him facedown in the water.

Fun With Language, Vol. 3

I mean, I knew toilet seats were fragile, but this is ridiculous.  Check out the underside of the cover of not one, but two friends' guest room toilets:

Sharp abjects?

Washing with Stain-brushes? Knives? Chemical liquor?  Volatized one?  Diluted one?

If only that ol' seat I broke came with such easy to follow instructions.



Fun with Language, Vol. 2

This is Harumi.  She is from Okinawa Japan, and is an English teacher and reflexologist.  She is very smart.  She also chooses to wear her backpack on her front, like so:

Lots of people do it.  Sometimes for security, or maybe they already have a huge backpack on the back.  In Harumi's case yesterday, it's because they are hiking a mountain in 90 degree weather and their back is hot so they switch it to the front.  Anyway she was wearing her backpack in the front in Maui one time, and she was paying at her hostel, reaching in front for her money.  The man at the desk said slowly and loudly, "do. you. know. how. to. wear. that?  It. goes. on. the. back.  That's. why. it's. called. a. BACK. PACK."

I asked her what she said.  She just laughed.  And then told me, "what an idiot man."

Not Much Going On...

...I went to a new beach the other day with some friends, and I saw this woman wearing two hats.  I found it wildly adorable.  Also as you can see she is wearing a long sleeved shirt and as you can't see - long pants.  She told me that the sun can really bite you.  I met her whole family, and made them put on the big hat for photos.  She was just the nicest lady and I loved that I had this whole 'two hat' conversation IN SPANISH.

Spanish Lesson

Mira!  Es mi pollito! = Look! It's my baby chick!

Chicas Japonesas en la playa = Japanese girls on the beach

Este cerdo es usar tacones = This pig is wearing high heels

Esta estatua a caballo es un hombre = This horse statue is male

Spanish Lesson

Perro en cesto = Puppy in basket

No puedan ir al ninguna parte = They're not going anywhere.

Idiota = Dunce   (according to Sarah Lindahl, poor kid)

No entiendo = I don't get it.

Policia con cerveza = Policeman with Beer.