raining :)

It's currently raining in Marfa, Texas. Please note: I have been waiting for a good, heavy rain since I got out here. It is about time I hear thunder, see lightening, hear the rain hitting the ground, and feel the cool breeze blowing through my open windows. It's about time that Marfa gets some of the rain that everyone else is getting! West Texas rain is my favorite smell in the entire world. John, I wish you were here to enjoy this with me.

Last night I had a very unexpected adventure. I was just dozing through "Lonesome Dove" when my friend Betty called. She never calls me so I knew she a) butt dialed me or b) needed something. Turns out, she needed a ride...to Mexico! Her mom's dog in Presidio (an hour from Marfa, 3 miles from Ojinaga - border city in Mexico) had suddenly become stiff and somewhat comatose. Betty was the only option of saving the dog but her car is not reliable enough for the drive to and from Presidio. After trying numerous other people that she knows better than I, she tried me. "Abby, are you busy tonight??" NO haha. So, together we embarked on my first trip to OJ. It's normal for many of the people out here to travel to and from Mexico. It is so close, things are significantly cheaper there, they have family in OJ...who knows why! Either way, we hurried off to Presidio, picked up the pathetic and stiffened puppy, crossed the border and worked our way to the vet. Of course, as soon as we got to the vet, little Roach (aka the puppy) decided to perk up and be normal. That would happen, wouldn't it? Well, better to be safe than sorry. I am glad that we got him to a doctor in case he HADN'T perked up. But I am also glad I finally got to see OJ. Betty drove me around the city showing all the hott spots and talking about her and her brother, Jose, lives before moving to the states. We tried a few delicious eateries and I, naturally, divulged myself in the delicious foods of a new culture. Everything was delicious, the people were more than friendly, and being with a native made me very safe.

It was an interesting, unexpected, but much appreciated detour for my day. Now I can say I have been to OJ, have seen where Jose and Betty grew up and knew since infanthood, and know that it isn't SO scary for a Gringa to go to OJ. Next time I go, though, I need to pick up some tequila and vanilla - the real deal is always better.


Marfa means...enjoying the storm from my cozy house.

latina incognito...

Have you ever cumbia'd? If you are a white girl from the city, the chances of you answering yes to this question are slim. Growing up in Dallas, cumbia was not really in my radar. I attempted, poorly might I add, to dance with a bit of "latina" flair while in Argentina and Costa Rica. Both attempts were absolute FAILS. Well, my time in Marfa has lead me to more than one opportunity to practice, and hopefully improve, my cumbia skills.

Basically, you just have to move with the music - follow the beat they said last night. Well, here's my thing: I have NO ability to follow and understand a beat. I spend so much time thinking about how silly and classically "gringa" I must appear to be that I can hardly focus on the task at hand: dancing. Last night I was at Padre's with a gang of lovely latina women. They have been cumbia'ing their entire lives - it comes naturally to them. I, on the other hand, avoid any dance that is "feeling the music" and not lead by a male's strong guidance. I just don't have that common ability to "feel" the music. So, after a brave viejo (old man for all you gringos out there...) asked me to dance, I suddenly experienced great anxiety! He did not seem to speak English, was older than my dad, an obvious natural, and was very stoic and upright. I, on the other hand, am told to be a "bouncy" dancer, love to talk to my dance partners...in English, and am NOT a natural. Poor guy - if only I knew how to warn him in Spanish... Well, it was a blast, of course. I stayed near my partner only because it would have been terribly rude and offense to walk off. I danced and got teased and laughed for the entire song - but, please note: one song in cumbia is a set of more like 3-4 songs. Great.

Either way, I had quite the experience last night. I was amongst my lovelier latina amigas who attempted to show me the ropes - how to be a Mexicana. Sadly, my disguise was not bought by anyone - everyone thought they needed to inform me that "Abby, you are so white!"...as if I didn't know? I need to keep practicing this art of being Mexican. Dance lessons and spanish speaking times are on the horizon for me. Knowing how to throw back Patron and drink Dos Equis just doesn't cut it in this town. Not if I really want to embrace the culture, that is...


Marfa means...dancing cumbia with old and sweaty men, taking shots with the older hotel employees, and going to an "after party" in a barn.