This week marks another
milestone for K and me. Eleven months ago we met for the
first time in Xochimilco. Eleven months may not like a
dramatic amount of time, but at this time of the month we
both remember the good and the bad and it's important to
remind ourselves of where we are, what we hope for, what
we desire. For that reason, it's a milestone. I love K
even more now than I did then, and I'm determined to keep
fighting for that privilege. I feel very optimistic at
the moment, and I wrote another poem
(The Future's Looking Bright!) for K which I'm hoping says that
a little better.
There were more earthquakes this week in
Mexico, and the thought of anything happening to K still
terrifies me. She's reassured me a little by talking
about it. Well, it's not exactly reassuring to know that
she works on the fifth floor of an office block and that
emergency procedures consist of getting out of the
building or finding the securest places to hide, but it's
better to know. I remember one Spanish lesson when and my
teacher and I heard alarms going off in the street. We
were in a restaurant, so my teacher stopped the waitress
and asked her if that was the earthquake alarm. "Yes,"
said the waitress, and walked off, unconcerned. At this
point, my whole body went numb. My teacher called the
waitress back. "And is there an earthquake?"
she asked. The waitress thought for a second. "No,
they're just testing the alarm." The things I don't
know really scare me.
Other than these things, I don't have a
lot to write about. Another relatively stress-free week,
and I'm able to work a few more hours now that I don't
feel so tired. I occasionally smile, too, so I must be
coping a little better that before. I think it's because
I know I shan't be in this country much longer, and for
that reason I can appreciate it a little more. The
snobbery still bugs me though - I went to my town's only
disco on Friday, only to be refused because I wore blue
jeans. This must be the only place left in the world
where they're still a sign of rebellion. Don't let them
get you down.
¡Hasta la proxima, mi diario!
