Is it folly to presume this will be it?

It’s officially unofficial because this is after all Mexico and that´s how things work here, but our things should arrive from Veracruz one day next week. I am so relieved. I will be reunited with my jewelry, make-up and clothes (which I can’t wear but can moon over). I can start the nursery (better late than never) and I can set up my kitchen (even though cooking right now seems about as inviting as jamming an icepick in my left foot).

I just hope all of our things are in the truck. I ended up having to translate the packing list made by the moving company. The list written in English (by French guys) horrified me. Especially because they packed my tea and spices, a big no-no customswise (and they knew this because we talked about it). Then they wrote as big as you could imagine in caps on line three TEA & SPICES even though it couldn’t have amounted to more than three spice packs and 5 tea boxes. There was absolutely no sign of my antique trunk which is filled with all our wonderful bed linens, no mention of my hand made bench, the baby stroller (most of the baby stuff for that matter) and yet mysteriously there is a listing for a hifi and a dryer of some sort. We didn't bring any electronics. Hmm.

I am just consoling myself with the idea that they wrote n’importe quoi because they wrote ‘chair of infant’ at least eight times on the list and uh we really don’t have eight kids chairs. For what I presume is a bench they wrote long chair which is funny because that‘s what it is I suppose. Well, it’s funny if it isn’t your stuff arriving in Mexico, one of the strictest ports of entry in the world. We’ve heard horror stories of people’s stuff being rifled through by Mexican customs and then huge ‘fines’ being demanded for the stuffs release. It’s for this reason that we wanted the list to be as detailed and to the point as possible. Seb doesn’t seem as worried as me. I just hope my long chairs get here.

Little S and I spent yesterday visiting the new house and organizing suitcase stuff. Little S actually spent the afternoon playing with his Thomas trains on the floor. I organized his clothes and was shocked to notice that hardly anything fits anymore. He has a pile of clothes for aged three that I have to find a home for. I can't believe he's wearing age four clothes now.

Our washing machine got delivered finally (third time’s the charm). Two skinny boys came with a rattletrap of a pickup truck full of merchandise, Mexico‘s version of Sears delivery. The whole day it had rained so when they dragged the box into the house it was full of water. They stuck the machine in the laundry room and left two minutes later saying nothing. I felt bad because I unfortunately had no tip for them but it didn’t matter. I would never have tipped them because the kitchen and laundry room floor were completely covered in water. At least two gallons worth. It really shocked me. Not only that but the machine was covered in grimy dirt and I would have to get a bucket and a lot of soap to clean it. You just have to get used to things like this,-- the cultural training we’d had in Paris echoed in my head. I tried to be grateful for the fact that at least the machine was finally delivered but I was in shock at the mess.

We met our new neighbor. She’s a pretty women of about 32 years old I’d guess. She seems nice and she speaks some French. They have a baby boy about a year old. I got excited. Someone to pass on Little S’s clothes to! Seb said I’d better not. He said she might be insulted. I’ll see how she feels for myself. They do have a posh house and I know what he’s trying to say--that Mexicans in the class she’s in could consider that an insult. It’s so funny to think we live in an upper class society now. We certainly don’t fit in and we really don‘t really want to. By nature of the fact that we’re expats with a French income and lifestyle somehow we fell in to it--bizarre

Tuesday night Seb ran over an (already) dead dog in the road, crrrunch. We are huge animal lovers. It turned my stomach for an hour afterwards and I know Seb was horrified. He loves dogs. I always tease him because he can practically speak to them. I call him The Dog Whisperer. He’s even the dog in Chinese Astrology. We see a lot of stray dogs here and unfortunately a lot of them get hit by cars. It’s one of the hard things about living here. We are both really touched by it.

Maybe I'm complaining a lot but we do like it here and we’re adapting well. It’s such another world that sometimes we dig in our expat spurs and turn away in shock, fear or disgust. You just can’t help it. The fact that you always see little babies riding in cars on their mother’s laps with no car seats never ceases to shock and enrage me. It isn’t just the simple incomed lower classes either bouncing a six month on their laps at traffic lights. It’s pretty much a universal thing here in Mexico. Try finding a car seat or a baby goods store for that matter and you’ll figure out why. If you do find one they are often in the 200-300 dollar range for the cheapest of brands--a great injustice. Does the government care? Apparently not.

We are totally digging the food here. The Mexicans have fabulous food skills. I am trying to get Seb seduced by the local cuisine but he won’t budge. His French stomach is enjoying the milder side of Mexico’s food. He loves the chips, guacamole, and excellent beers. I am in love with it all and eager to get my kitchen set up so I can learn how to reproduce it. Some of it is a little too local. Some I’ll try later (the mystery meat dishes swimming in sauces) but most of it inspires me. I also love that every dish comes with a plate of little lime wedges. I’ve started dousing lime on everything. Even my pancakes come with limes on the table. How Mexican is that!

technical woes--yesterday we had no internet connection all day for no reason and today although my camera is working I can't seem to upload pictures to blogger...frustrating!