Nostalgic Stoner Mentality

Wednesday

2 of October 2013

Tonight was another exquisite time at Pastor Doug and his wife Darla’s Wednesday night bible study. Now that it comes to mind, I regret not telling you about Ramona and Otis. To quote Pastor Doug, “Otis could write a book about all he’s been through in the last year,” which, to simplify things, includes getting married to a woman who passed away from cancer a couple months later, leaving in her wake her five year old daughter Ramona with her newly inducted husband, Otis. Yet, considering everything the two have been through, they are some of the sweetest, gentle, and most caring people I’ve ever come into contact with. Otis has a great way with kids- the way he took in a five year old girl that was barely his responsibility while dealing with the harrowing grief of loosing his wife and still maintaining an innocent and pure nature is astounding to me. Ramona is doing extremely well, and is as cute as can be. Kanon, Delilah, Ramona, and Kristen and Anthony’s son, Clayton, get along very nicely together. Kirsten is Aidan and Kalin’s tough English teacher at Papalote, and she also attends our church with her husband and two year old son. I absolutely adore their young family; Kristen is the same age as my aunt at 27, and just the sweetest woman. Anyways, Delilah and Ramona brought their Barbies to play with tonight at the Wednesday night bible study upstairs in the kids’ room while the adults talked about Sunday’s message. While their dollies interacted, the kids and I watched a gut-wrenching twenty minutes of Now You See Me from Chris’s computer. His introduction of magic to my life has brought about lots of curiosities in the art of illusion, and the movie, also about magicians, kindled my growing flames for the subject.

At school, I am continually baffled by the lack of equality women receive and the superiority and power that men conceitedly, and automatically, exercise over the females. I got another one of my rants today, this time about the undermining of the girls’ abilities in life, and although it was just teasing, Juan came back with the comment that Jesus was a man as if that solidified that fact that men are better than women.

Tomorrow I have a soccer game to compete in with the Papalote boys against a women’s professional team- or so I thought. Apparently I’m supposed to play against Papalote so I can be with the girls. Obviously this didn’t sit well with me- I’ve never played with or even met the other team, and I play with the boys almost every day; besides, I want to support my school and not their opposition; and lastly, they want me to play with the other team just because I’m a girl and they are too. I’m so sick of being treated as less- than because of my sex, and lately I’ve been using the analogy that if a twenty five year old, female neuroscientist living in Playa had her accomplishments compared to any one of the boys in my class, the fifteen year old boy would be considered more apt to do something amazing with his life. Where is the justice for women? And why do I suddenly feel like a feminist? I don’t even get along with girls usually. I just tried to fight for myself and Kira with our soccer playing, but now I feel like I’m fighting Mexican culture for all women. But the thing is, the girls here don’t care if their coordination is all off and they can’t kick a ball- I guess my female patriotism hasn’t reached them, because they don’t feel oppressed.

Mum wants me to speak with Jim soon, because my can-opening suspension made us realize that it might be possible for me to do once a week studies to continue my American education so the transition back to OCSA will be smooth for tenth grade. My sly, intelligent mother gave me some tips on how to tweak the situation to how I wanted it to look so I’d get exactly the type of education at Papalote that I desired. On another school-related note, Otis told Mum tonight that Ramona wasn’t going to school tomorrow because Sep- the government- ordered it to be closed for the day on account of a rumored tropical storm blowing in. We haven’t heard anything from Papalote, but Kristen, Aidan and Kalin’s English teacher and our good friend, has promised to keep us updated on the status of the school sessions. I don’t know if I will have classes or not tomorrow, but I can count on one thing: the mañana attitude of Playa. This is Mexico, where no one makes definite plans anytime in advance, everyone runs fifteen minutes to an hour late, and the mañana, or “later” attitude is a way of life. Think of it as if you’re at the best party of your life (which only happens in Playa) when your friends call asking you to come over the next morning. Well, that date depends on how you’re feeling the next morning, you’d think. That’s the wishy wash, “maybe, man” mindset that every Mexican has and every organized gringo has to become accustomed to, or the only alternative is to go crazy trying to keep track of dates and times that never end up happening. I’m almost positive I’m in love with the free spirit of this place. It’s like, nostalgic stoner mentality, man. (Does that make sense?? Who cares.)

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