Volcanos and Geysers and CHALUPAS -- Puebla, Mexico

I'm starting this post from the communal area of Jonas' home in Puebla, Mexico. The chair in which I sit looks (and feels) like a voluptuous muffin, and the couch and love seat engaging in a staring contest across the room are larger versions. Plump armrests, wanton cushions, curvaceous edges.

A pillow printed with a yellow minion from "Despicable Me" leans against the plump armrest of the couch. Looking very comfortable and out of place.

"Mexicans love animated films. I don't know why they love animated films so much, but they do," Jonas told me during yesterday's adventure through Puebla.

Robert drove me to the airport at nine o'clock on Wednesday morning.

Somehow... I don't feel ready to leave. And it's not because the airline changed my departure time last minute and wouldn't let me print off my ticket, check-in online or pay for my checked luggage. It's not because I'm nervous about going to Mexico and starting this next stage of my life. 

hmmm....

With both of my other trips, I stayed in Grand Junction and worked for a year to save the money. I had a year to wrap my mind around what I was doing. To pack my bag. To prepare my heart for all the strings that would be pulled and broken. But this trip?

Less than two months. 

Oof. 

"Take care of yourself. Have an amazing adventure. I'm here if you need me, okay?" Robert hugged me goodbye at the drop-off point of Terminal 4.

"Thanks for taking me to Phoenix."

"I hope it was a good last experience in the States.

"Robert. It was perfect. And I loved meeting Philip. Now I can feel even happier for you."

"I love you, Aimee."

"I love you, Robert."

That. That one. Is a friend I don't know how I got lucky enough to have. 

Check-in is somehow never simple for me. My passport doesn't believe in checking-in online and it will have absolutely nothing to do with the little machines that let you check yourself in as opposed to waiting in line for days. 

So. I waited in line for days. But now that I travel so light, there's something deeply satisfying about plopping Ellie on the scale and knowing that she will weigh less than thirty pounds.

The poor Mexican family in front of me spent ten minutes reorganizing their bags multiple times in order to get their checked-in bags under fifty pounds and their carry-ons to zip shut. The family behind me giggled. I looked over my shoulder and barely glimpsed the gigglers behind their enormous suitcases piled high on carts and random bags and purses heaped around invisible feet.

"That will be us," a woman's voice floated from behind the cart.

I passed through security and found my gate with over two hours to spare. Some people might feel annoyed at having to wait for hours in an airport terminal, but this limbo period gives me time to wrap my mind around what I'm doing, where I'm going and to put to rest where I've been.

It also gives me time to think about all the things I'm leaving. New friends. Interesting cuisines. Favorite cafes. Camera chargers. 

Nooo! Oh goodness. How could I have forgotten that? 

A maid had cleaned Philip's apartment the afternoon before and had thoughtfully placed all my nicknacks and electronics in various places around the apartment. Which made packing my bag an exercise comparable to an Easter Egg hunt.

But I totally forgot about some of those eggs. Like my fish oil. ARGH. I needed that. And my camera charger. Why'd I have to go and buy a fujifilm camera? Why couldn't I have stuck to Nikon or Canon? No one in Mexico is going to have fujifilm chargers. 

Damn. 

And because I'm the sort of lady who tends to feel a wee bit of anxiety until I know what my options are, I decided to hunt down some internet. As the free airport internet wasn't getting along with my computer, I found a cafe and asked if I could use theirs in exchange for an Americano.

"We don't have internet. You'll have to connect to the airport's," the helpful barista informed me.

"But... it's not working on my laptop or phone."

"Try sitting closer to those TV screens."

"Okay."

And I left. Without my change purse.

"Hey!" the barista yelled at my frazzled silhouette (yes, silhouettes can be frazzled). "What are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry," I exclaimed as I reclaimed my purse. "Today. Today is not my day."

Girl. You're out of touch. You need to be more careful. If you can't even get out of America without losing your camera charger and your change purse, how are you going to manage Mexico? 

Both flights were on time and uneventful.

My blue pen exploded blue ink all over my hands whilst attempting to fill out my immigration forms.

Jesus. 

I grabbed the vomit bag and used the outside to wipe the dripping ink off my fingers (only succeeding in smearing it) and stuck the volcanic ballpoint inside.

And I forgot to ask Jonas for his address. And his phone number. God. I'm better than this. 

I stared at the blue splotched immigration form and the blank name of hotel/address line.

Is this going to be another Ireland? Where they take me into a side room and interrogate me for forty-five minutes? Or will it be an Istanbul, where they don't even look at the form? 

Either way, I should have been more prepared. 

Thank god, it was an Istanbul.

I passed through passport control and saw Ellie waiting for me with the rest of the luggage from our tiny airplane. I passed through the exit and saw Jonas waiting for me in the arrivals line.

"Thanks so much for meeting me!" I gave him an awkward backpack hug.

"I know that when I fly somewhere, I like to be met at airports. I figured you would to."

"Yes. Yes, I do. It's such a luxury for me, though," I thought back to all the times I'd flown into a new country and had had to figure out which bus/train/metro to take in a language I didn't understand whilst working through jet lag.

"We'll need to take a taxi to the city center, though. I don't think there are any buses operating at this hour."

"But it's only seven!"

"I know. Things stop early in Puebla. But I have a cab waiting outside for us," we walked towards the gates of the parking area. "No, he's not here. He must have already left," Jonas laughed. "Welcome to Mexico."

"Wonderful."

We caught another cab into the city center.

Puebla.

The center of Puebla is a glorious place by night.

Elaborate Christmas lights.

Fountains.

"Mexicans are obsessed with fountains."

Street food smoking, burning, frying, steaming from every corner.

We stopped at one of the fragrant stands for some chalupas.

Tortillas fried in generous spoonfuls of pork fat, topped with salsa, cheese and pork and then stacked atop one another in a greasy pile of heaven.

"It's like a Mexican lasagna!" I exclaimed to Jonas before I lost myself in a state of profound, chalupa induced bliss.

After our second helpings of chalupas, Jonas took me to a bar where we sat outside (in December) and chatted over cervezas and tequila sunrises.

"First day in Mexico. Chalupa and tequila. I'm doing well."

"I think so."

"We caught a cab back to his apartment and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Jonas' room would be very similar to mine. If I had one of those things.

Essentials.

Backpack in the corner.

Shoes by the door.

Yes. 

We started our first full day of exploration at ten. The sun was shining, birds were singing, butterflies were fluttering about.

In DECEMBER. 

We had our desayuno (breakfast!) at a promising smelling taco and cemita stand on our way to the world's smallest volcano.

Cemita. A bread roll covered with sesame seeds and stuffed full of meats, cheeses, vegetables and salsas. 

My breakfast taco. Yes please. 

You know the food will be good when most is fried in a giant bowl of oil and then sliced on a tree trunk cutting board. 

Cuexcomate.

The smallest volcano in the world.

Or so it would have you believe.

This pyramid, calcite formation is actually a geyser, thought to have been formed by one of Popocatapetl's geothermal springs before its eruption in 1064.

So Cuexcomate is the world's largest geyser.

Imagine having those options. 

hmmm... I can either be the world's largest geyser or the world's smallest volcano... Shit. Talk about an identity crisis. 

It cost ten pesos each (seventy cents) to descend into the depths of the geyser/volcano. Jonas handed the woman at the entrance a 100 peso bill and she shook her head.

"One thing you'll learn about Mexico is that no one has any change. Ever. It's so inefficient," my German friend laughed.

Jonas is always laughing. This is one of the many things I like about Jonas.

But Mexicans are also extremely friendly and accommodating, so the woman waved us on to the volcano/geyser and sent her associate off for change.

Then we took a bus to Cholula, a small city just west of Puebla.

Mexican buses are exciting.

"If you're lucky, you'll get a bus driver who doesn't care for traffic rules at all. I once had a driver who didn't even stop at lights," Jonas said as our driver made a left turn from the far right lane.

Cholula is known for its churches and its pyramid (and the fact that there's a church on top of a pyramid).

I love the colors of Mexico. I think I said this to Jonas 57 times during our walk yesterday. He usually said it right back. 

Walking up to the church on top of a pyramid

"I kind of like that we have to walk more to get to the church than we had to walk to get to the volcano."

Only the foundation remains of the pyramid in Cholula, but the base is four times as big as the Great Pyramid of Giza. And the view from the top... well...

Popocatepetl. One of Mexico's most active volcanos. "El Popo" erupted in May, 2013, sending pyroclastic materials 700 meters from the crater. It also erupted in April, 2012. Seems like "El Popo" could be due for another explosion any day.  

Girl found a stick bug. 

Jonas bought some Mexican potato chips during a hunt for a fujifilm shop in Puebla.

Mexican potato chips differ from every other potato chip I've ever tasted in that they're doused in all manner of salsas and vinegars before they're handed to you.

I ate a few chips off the top and felt like a champ. For my ability to handle spicy foods.

Then I found myself at the halfway part where chips were supersaturated with salsa. And nearly died.

"I can't... *cough* eat... *choke* any more. How do you do it?" I asked Jonas incredulously as he chowed down on chips from the bottom of the bag.

"Training."

We stopped at a cafe for iced cappuccinos. 

This is Jonas. Waiting for change. 

Always waiting for change. 

I believe the barista had to ask another customer for it. 

We walked through the historic district of Puebla (which is one of the largest city UNESCO sites in the world) and snapped photos of parks --

-- busses --

-- churches --

-- fountains --

-- and beautiful trees.

We didn't find the fujifilm shop. It had changed locations without telling google maps.

We did find the house where the Mexican Revolution is said to have started. It's located on the Sweet Street, sandwiched in between shops carrying marzipans and Santa Clara Tortillas and colored gummies that translate into "little drunks".

Most of Puebla's candy (and its mole) were invented by nuns.

"Mexican nuns are the best," I said to Jonas as we left the Sweet Street. "They make all the candy and the delicious spicy foods."

"And German monks are the best because -- "

"Because they make all the beer!" I excitedly interrupted my friend. We fist-bumped and I exclaimed, "I want Mexican nuns and German monks to get together and make magic happen."

"I think that would probably be illegal."

"Damn. What a waste."

These statues are said to help the building remain upright and in one piece through Puebla's many earthquakes. 

 After hours of searching (punctuated by cappuccinos, little drunks and strolls into gorgeous churches), we finally found a charger for my camera.

I nearly fainted with relief. And happiness. Philip had kindly said he'd send the charger on to Puerto Escondido, but the Mexican mail system is... umm... something less than reliable. Jonas once ordered a book from Germany and it took TWO months to arrive in Puebla. I once sent a painted postcard to Mexico City and it never arrived at all.

We celebrated with chalupas. Not that one needs an excuse to eat chalupas.

I played around with camera filters as we continued to amble through the historic center and the sun began to set.

Jonas took me out for cocktails and we listened to live music and enjoyed Puebla's festive Christmas lights.

"You found such a good place to live. My goodness."

"I know, right? And most people don't even visit Puebla -- they only go to Mexico City."

"Well, I didn't know about it until you invited me to stay with you. Kind of like Wales. I didn't know that Wales was a thing until I met someone who lived there."

I'm so glad Puebla is a thing. 

Dinner was more tacos. With grilled cactus and meat and guacamole and three different salsas.

Girl might be in love with Mexico. Already. Well done, Mexico.