This morning my new neighbor and I were standing out front talking and she noticed some small green fruit on a nearby bush, I reached over and picked one thinking it might be a lime, but the peel came off easily and we had a tangerine, so we ate it for breakfast. I think that translates to mandarina in Spanish. This yard is full of the darndest things, I guess I need to get focused and do a serious photo safari starting right here at home.

Tonite I watched as the last light of this day slowly faded the details of the hills and trees into 2 dimensional layers like an artist paints on a flat canvas. I can remember many times in TX seeing the hills around the lake shaded the same way, basically dark silhouetted against others and the lighter sky. Of course the hills here are more dramatic and the shapes different, but the beauty of simply standing for a time and watching the fading scenes of another day is worth the investment in memories.

I had spent some time setting up my wireless network today so the new neighbor could tap into my Internet, but her laptop in the casita doesn't receive hardly at all. It's a nice new laptop and my little one gets all 5 bars, but hers only gets a half, not enough to connect, I was disappointed.

For lunch I nuked some pizza, BE WARNED: don't buy a mirror faced Mexican microwave. For one thing the instructions are in Spanish and I still haven't figured out how to make the countdown timer work, but the biggest problem(s) is the mirrored front (while really Mexican and neat) it shows every fingerprint and as I stood there waiting for it to irradiate my frozen pizza, I realized I was staring at a 64 year old graying old man who was staring back at me - most disconcerting, I must remember to apologize to the mirror in the bathroom for tolerating me each morning. Now, if I could just get the darn thing to count down, who ever heard of a microwave that doesn't count down?

Yesterday I managed to find the little hole in the wall hamburger place named Johnny's. As are many or most business's here, especially in the village, they have a roll up front steel door and so they're essentially an open to the street hole in the wall. Guess it doesn't get all that cold or they'd be enclosed. Anyway, great cheese burger for $18p and a Pepsi for $6p. Looks like he has a number of other entries that will be worth trying. I guess in a way it was an interesting experience and acceptance of life here. Up to now I would be hesitant to go into a place like this and eat, but now it seems normal. It's clean, but it's just so different and basic from NOB establishments - it's a world away from Wendy's and MacD's.

Life here is a process of acceptance and tolerance of many things, an expansion of what you've known as normal and expected to what really is; take it or leave it. Some things are perfectly normal; last evening I sat here watching a DVD of Victor Victoria, laughing much as I did in TX, but then in the distance I could hear the party going on at the park (and it was still going when I woke up briefly at 2:30am). At the moment (this being Nov 4th, 8:30pm) it's still 65 degrees and I have the house open, Max is enjoying the fresh air and I hear croaking frogs in the distance, so many things are the same and as many different, all mixed together, you have to decide if it fits you or not. As I've always said, life is like a rack of clothes, you try something on and if it feels good, and you look good in it, wear it, if not, move on down the road.

That simple previous statement, "move on", is probably the greatest delineator and gulf between the life we live NOB and the life here for the native people. We have almost infinite options and safety nets to allow us to change if we don't like something, or if things are not working out. Here reality is big, it's real and in your face each day, they don't have those options and maybe not even those dreams. They work each day to get to the next - there are things to be learned here.