Oh Baby…

Some of you who have been following my blog closely might have guessed already: Our little son has arrived! Needless to say that I am absolutely and utterly smitten with him and could spend days and nights just watching him. Which is a good thing given that he likes to be fed for up to 10 hours per day – he is a veeery slow eater.

Please meet our little sunshine!

BUT this is not a baby blog. So worry not, I won’t go on boring you with details. However, inspiration can be drawn from anything and so I came to think about all those old wives’ tales that I’ve been told ever since I got pregnant.

No matter whether you are pregnant or having a cold, some people just looove to give you advice. They can rattle on and on about what you should and shouldn’t do, and I like to make good use of the time by thinking about something important. E.g. about what’s for dinner. Or my neighbour’s new haircut. My father in-law is a walking medical journal, because he started studying medicine at some point, I believe it was in 1874. According to him, I should have refrained from working out or stretching for the entire duration of my pregnancy.

When my due date had passed, I got a lot of advice from various sources, and I was curious to see how those “remedies” might differ from country to country. So in Germany it is apparently common to walk the stairs up and down and have a glass of red wine (if you intend to do this at the same time, remember not to wear anything white) - that will for sure kick the baby out. A lot of people also recommend eating something spicy. Well, we live in a 2-storey house, so I cannot avoid climbing the stairs, and we do live in Mexico, so food is generally on the spicy side. Those things didn’t seem to speed things up, I didn’t try the red wine option, though, maybe that would have done the trick…

Any excuse is welcome when it comes to enjoying a cup of hot chocolate! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Our cleaning ladies came up with some Mexican advice: Wear a belt really tight around your belly, right below your rib cage. This way, the baby will be pushed downwards. Sounds charming, doesn’t it? I am not sure whether some babies have lost their feet in this process. Some also recommend having some hot chocolate with cinnamon. I love hot chocolate and drink it on an almost daily basis – no signs of it inducing labour, I can assure you. Apparently, nobody seems to think that it might be a good idea to just stay put and wait for things to proceed at their own speed.

Now that our mini man is here, our cleaning ladies are worried about his well-being because I refuse to follow their advice: Make him wear a golden bracelet to ward off evil energy and hanging a red ball over his crib. The latter is supposed to enhance his eye sight, since staring at something in a far distance will harm his eyes! Frankly, I cannot wait to hear more pieces of wisdom…

How about you? Would you like to share some bizarre home remedies? Or has any of this ever worked for you?

There’s no time like the holidays for a good complaint!

I wished I could start this post by saying “It’s tourist season at the Mayan Riviera”, but of course, it is always tourist season here. But since I have my parents over at the moment, my daily routine has changed a bit, and sometimes I can’t get away from the hustle and bustle.

I said it before, and I will say it again: Tourists are a weird bunch. And yes, I am aware of the fact that I, too, am a tourist when travelling, and probably I, too, turn into an even weirder individual than usual. If that’s possible. But right now, I am just a keen observer, and tourists never fail to astound me.

Overhearing some conversations between tourists, it seems that many people come here with solely one purpose: Complaining. Luckily, there are many things that make complaining easy:

Such a wonderful opportunity to complain!

The weather. When people plan a trip to the Cancun area, they expect the weather to be a certain way. Strangely enough, sometimes the weather has its shortcomings. For some it is too cloudy. Or too sunny. For others too windy. Or too hot. Or too cold. Or too humid. Or too grey. Or too bright. Although this might sound petty to you, it turns out to be a serious matter, and many tourists expect a price reduction as compensation.

Some Caribbean lunch – not your regular Taco Del Mar snack.

Food. It is a shocking fact: Food abroad never tastes like home. People can get very grumpy when they don’t find their beloved TexMex grub that they were so much looking forward to. In this part of Mexico, you will find Caribbean cuisine that has nothing in common with what you get at Mexican fast food chains in the US. You can get the most amazing seafood dishes (and meat, too, of course) prepared with lime, cilantro, coconut, chili and mint. Of course, you will also find taquerias, but a lot of tourists (mainly Americans, I have to say) complain that those Mexicans there don’t know a thing about Mexican tacos & Co. Yeah, sounds about right.

Speaking of food: Another popular reason to be grumpy throughout one’s vacation is the ever-present threat of vicious food poisoning! People are highly suspicious of the food they are being served. It is downright impossible that viral infections cross the US-Mexican border. Or that your child’s stomach can’t cope with 5 milk shakes by the pool. If you get sick in Mexico, you can always, always be sure it is food poisoning. It is almost a miracle how we poor expats can survive.

Animals also prove to be a delightful source of irritation. Why the heck does nobody fumigate the jungle? Life would be a lot easier without mosquitos & friends. And if it weren’t for those stupid crocodiles, we could even go for a swim in the lagoons. Wildlife is not only dangerous, but also highly annoying.

Other tourists are also a constant nuisance. No matter how many deckchairs might be provided, you can be sure that there will always be two families haggling over one. If you are lucky, you get to see a fist fight even.

And then there are those darn children. Honestly, who lets all those families out? Families shouldn’t be allowed to take a vacation, after all, their whole life is a vacation. Vacations are for adults only. Full stop. How is one supposed to concentrate on being grumpy when being distracted by children’s horseplay all the time?

“Horseplay That Causes Accidents is Sabotage” – NARA – 514528 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Spam Alert, Part II

Time to empty my spam file again, but not without acknowledging the most creative approaches, of course:

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Life is so much more fun with a little bit of spam, isn’t it?

spam (Photo credit: Vince_Lamb)

Language Mishaps (or: How I turned my brother into a smurf)

Starting a new life in a strange country with a different language can be many things. It can be scary, exciting, intimidating, and: highly amusing when you apparently say the weirdest things and thus confuse everybody around you.

About a year ago, I already told you about my biggest language mishaps which I am still laughing about. Of course, and luckily so, my language skills have improved, but sometimes I miss those funny incidents. So when they do happen and I realize it, those just make my day!

May I introduce my brother. (Photo credit: momono)

Like the other day when I had a hairdresser appointment. After almost 2 years, my hair stylist Ixchel and I have developped kind of a friendship, and we share a lot of personal stuff with each other. Ixchel is very excited about the arrival of Mr. R. Jr. and doesn’t get tired of picturing what he might look like. That’s why she tends to ask me in detail about every single family member. We must be quite an exotic bunch to her, especially my redhead, fair-skinned grandmother fascinates her a great deal. Last time, I wanted to tell her about my brother who has a slightly darker skin which would be “piel morena”. However, instead of “morena” I said “morada” which almost FELT strange on my tongue, but I couldn’t figure out what went wrong. Ixchel started laughing, tears were streaming down her face, and she could hardly breathe. Once she caught her breath again, she pointed at my purple bag and gasped, “That’s morada”. So now my poor brother looks like a modern purple take on a smurf… Maybe I should get him a smurf hat for his birthday…

As a teacher of course, I have to get a better grip on myself when my students get things mixed up. Like one day when my student turned an “important man” into an “impotent man”. I really had to pinch myself not to burst out laughing! Or another student who constantly referred to the “English course” as “English curse” – well, at least, I hope he meant “course”!

Do you sometimes get confused by a new language? Any funny slip of tongue lately?

Pessimists rejoice!

Recently, I read an article about life expectancy of pessimists vs. optimists - maybe you read that, too? Surprisingly, pessimists tend to live longer than optimists. By the way, we are talking about a German study. It’s not hard to find plenty of pessimists in that country, but where did they dig up the optimists? (Just kidding, in fact I do know a few German optimists.)

So, ok, up to now I always strongly believed the opposite to be true. Why isn’t it? According to the studies, it might be due to the fact that pessimists live more carefully, in that they e.g. visit the doctor more frequently. I know this very cheerful type who runs to the doctor all the time hoping to be diagnosed with some terminal illness that would once and for all justify his / her constant grumpiness. And of course, it is most desirable to become 106 having spent years in a doctor’s waiting room.

On top of that, scientists found that people with good health and a stable income are prone to suffer a greater decline than people with low income and poor health. Oh, really? Well, isn’t that logical? If you are already struggling to survive, how much deeper can you fall?

So what are we supposed to do now? Should we all become pessimists and mope around for decades to come? And when are we then supposed to celebrate our grumpy victory? When we turn 100 or only when we turn 105?

I think scientists should be more careful about spreading the news. After all, what happens if all pessimists now jump with unexpected joy and as a consequence suffer a heart attack?

Are You Optimistic About The Future? (Photo credit: SomeDriftwood)

Thanks, Doc!

After postponing it for months, I finally went to a local dentist for a professional tooth cleaning last week. I always find there is something utterly humiliating to it when lying there with your mouth wide open, and 2 people poking around in it while you cannot do anything but stare at the ceiling. (Luckily for me, there was a cobweb swinging in the breeze so I could just focus on that.)

Dental hygienists are a rather chatty bunch, I find. And now while it is nice to listen to their little stories, I always feel compelled to let them know I am listening which leads to me making funny noises like “Uuuhuuh…” as a sign of agreement, or a simple “Uuh!” as a sign of astonishment, or “Urgh!” expressing indignation. Clearly, those people have not chosen their profession hoping for some meaningful conversations.

But why does anybody choose to become a dentist? It’s a mystery to me. Any dentists out there who would like to explain that to me? Don’t get me wrong, I am a big fan of dentists and more than glad that some people shoulder this burden, but I’d imagine it not very appetizing to stare in other people’s mouths all the time. (And I am not even thinking of the people with poor hygiene standards.) Of course, it is common knowledge that a lot of women fall for doctors, but could that be reason enough?

Not to mention other medical specializations. Somewhere along the line some medical student decides to become a proctologist and dedicate his career to this very unglamorous part of our bodies (as if there were any glamorous parts… but you know what I mean!) and deal with poop and haemorrhoids. Why would anybody want to do that? It is very admirable, no doubt, yet I don’t understand it.

But it makes me so grateful that some people don’t mind staring into other people’s orifices or dealing with really gross stuff! So, dear doctors (and medical staff in general), let me say thank you and give you a big smile with my newly cleaned and oh so shiny teeth!

Tooth Cleaning (Photo credit: pennuja)

 

Let’s be on time!

Last week, my world crumbled. It was handymen week, one of my very favourite times of the year as some of you may recall. But shocking as it may be: Everybody showed up on time! I know, I still have to pinch myself really hard, but it most definitely happened.

The guys beamed at me when I breathlessly (I had to hurry downstairs, who expects anyone to be on time for heaven’s sake?) pointed out a miracle had happened. And that made me think (once again) about punctuality.

(Copyright: Anne Taintor, http://www.annetaintor.com)

I am a very punctual person. Full stop. That might not surprise you given that I am German and those are famous for being on time, aren’t they? But I haven’t always been this way. As a matter of fact, for most of my adulthood, I had considered running late quite fashionable as did most of my friends at that time. The question would always be, who comes in last? You know, it seems so much more interesting when you rush into a bar with this diva-like air of stress. Everybody is looking at you while you get to tell the most amazing story about why you are being late. After you’ve ordered the champagne that is.

So this pattern worked just fine for me most of the time. However, I had one very friend who refused to be anything like a diva, and she was always, always, I mean: ALWAYS on time. And although I knew this, I couldn’t snap out of my habit, so when we had agreed to meet at 8, I knew I had to leave my home at 7:45. But mostly, I had just started to get dressed at that time and would only be ready to leave at 8 – by which time my friend would have already arrived at the bar. Every time I felt bad, yet I somehow just didn’t manage to get out of the house in a timely fashion.

Until I read an article somewhere that quoted someone saying that it was a matter of respect to be on time. If I come late, I consider my time more valuable than somebody else’s for I expect the other one to have nothing better to do than to wait for me. Whereas I apparently have something better to do than to hang out with that someone. Made sense to me. All of a sudden, this whole diva thing wasn’t so appealing to me anymore, and ever since reading this statement, I have tried hard to be annoyingly on time. And if I cannot help it but run 5 minutes late, I at least let the other one know.

And so here I am in one of the most unpunctual countries in the world… But I don’t give up, I still haven’t given in to tardiness – and there is a teensy-weensy hope that it might rub off on some people…