July 13th, 1990
I’ve been in Puebla now for almost three weeks, which means I’m almost half-way through the program. Beth and I moved out of El Hotel Colonial and into the house yesterday. Our host family seems very nice but I’ll miss the freedom of the hotel that I was just starting to take advantage of. I went to Mexico City last weekend with a group and had a disasterously good time. Got to know a lot about everyone playing I Never and Truth or Dare Spin the Bottle despite the fact that alcohol was low. Amaretto with anything is muy bueno.
We visited typical touristy places and got drenched in a downpour at 3am in our futile quest to find an open bar. This was espeically poignant because I had been carrying around my umbrella all day and decided to ditch it because when was the last time I remembered a downpour at 3am? And as I squealed in the rain I realized that I probably slept through them all.
Not much has happened since then other than a party at which I got blitzed and had a great conversation with Rbbie en espanol about our friendship and his feelings toward Amber and I hope he remembers having it. We haven’t really talked since. Seemed sincere, but alcohol has a way of making sins sincere. I think I would really like him if I could. And Dolly has informed me that it’s mutual but also illegal because I’m only 17 and jailbait. This is convenient since I already have a boyfriend back home…
I’ve been told I seem at least 20, the most mature out of the three of us Sara C. Merrick scholars from good ol’ C.R. Mike told me that, a good friend here who spared me the mortification of sharing a bed with Robbie when he (Mike) suggested we stick to single-sex sleeping arrangements. He’s someone I would have never gotten to know if it weren’t for Mexico and I’m glad I did.
I’m on the bus to Vera Cruz right now and I’m hoping this trip proves to be just as enlightening. We’re descending pretty rapidly right now about 7,000 feet in five minutes and the view is extraordinary. Lots of green and clingy mist and I don’t do it justice. I’m not too good with nature descriptions. I usually skip over those paragraphs in books.
Back to my favorite subject…It’s kind of become a joke that Dr. K. wants us to hook up (R and me) because he made us accompaneros who go out every day for 2 hours during which we’re supposed to see the sights and speak only en espanol. And our houses are only 2 down from each other when no one else in the entire program is located that close to anyone else.
Fate. Kismet. Karma. Bullshit.
Dr. K’s kids had a fiesta de cumpleanos yesterday and it really got to me. I watched how they all pounced on the floor, scavengers ravaging the pink puppy pinata for its candy. It was right after I found out about Rbbie’s hangup about our age difference (understandable, but I always like to think that I’m the exception that makes the law), and it made me ralize just how much I’m straddling youth and adulthood right now. I can slip from one side to the other easily, when I’m drinking my 4th rum and coke, or I’m being reminded that I can’t possibly know all the words to Hotel California.
But I’m glad I’m here. Not even Rbbie’s unrequited maybe-more-than-like can ruin this. Just remember, Meg, how NICE he was to you. And polite, and funny, and a Brady Bunch connoisseur to boot. Remember how he laughed at all your jokes. Remember how he seemed genuinely interested in hearing your opinions about books and movies and music.
Remember how much hope he gave you for your future with college guys.
