Away we go

Cute, isn't it? It was only 20 pesos (about a buck fifty) so we should not have been surprised, upon bringing it home, to discover that it is deafeningly loud when there is not the noise of the huge market to drown out its incessant ticking and tocking.  We have to store it in the kitchen, the room farthest from our bedroom.  That at least guarantees we, i.e. Alex, will be fully up when the alarm goes off.  For snoozing, it goes in the nightstand drawer wrapped in a t-shirt. 

In San Francisco, I always knew what time it was.  There were clocks everywhere.  On the computer, on the microwave, on the wall.  When I was out, it was just a matter of looking at a cell phone.  Oaxaca, at least for us, is a land without time.  There are only two clocks in our entire apartment.  One is the clock on our laptop which, of course, we can only check when the laptop is on.  The other is the internal clock on our camera.  That has become our default timepiece.  If we want to know what time it is, we just snap a shot of any old thing and then the time shows up on the viewfinder in association with the new picture. It's not that we have anywhere to be, at least not until we start language classes on Monday.  It's just incredibly disorienting to wake up in the middle of the night and have absolutely no idea what time it is.  And I really can't be bothered to get out of bed, turn on the camera, turn off the flash, and take a picture just to know for sure. 

So we're off to el Mercado de Abastos, the giant Saturday market.  From what I recall, they have absolutely everything there -- shoes, table linens, food, clothes, electronics, souvenirs, goats.  Even if it takes hours of wandering and holding our noses as we run past the meat stands, we will find a clock. 

Today was our first full day in Oaxaca and we're settling in well. 

We managed to find a little store around the corner from our apartment that caters to tourists.  They had pesto (yay!) and tofu (silken, but still yay!) and soy milk (yaaaaaay!).  Tonight was our first foray into cooking at home.  I managed to light the oven pilot light without setting my hair ablaze (victory!).  I am now sitting with Alex in an internet cafe eating a vanilla ice cream sundae with caramel sauce and walnuts out of a martini glass.  It's a lovely evening.  All of the doors are windows are open in the place and I'm comfortable in a skirt and a tanktop.

There's a zombie movie showing tomorrow night at an indie theater a few blocks from our apartment.  We think it'll be plenty entertaining, even if it's dubbed and we only understand one out of fifty words.   

I'm going to keep this short tonight, but I think we'll be able to get an internet connection in our apartment, which will make blogging easier.  In the meantime, here are some pictures:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/documama/sets/72157622594507952/

Borrowing inspiration from Maggie over at MightyGirl, my first act of funemployment will be to finish this list of 50 things to do before kicking the can.

Dive with whale sharks | Learn to make tamales, really yummy ones | Be able to identify 20+ constellations | Crochet a hat | Create a song book for group sing-alongs | Visit Machu Picchu | Be conversant in Spanish | Mentor a foster child | Fix up a fixer-upper | Start a regular Sunday brunch with friends and family | Plant a garden | Eat at Alice's Restaurant | Make a fire hoop | Attend a multi-day yoga retreat | Travel to all seven continents | See the northern lights | Marry Alex | Build a tree house | Declare a new holiday and celebrate it yearly | Take pictures with a fisheye lens | Spend a month without TV | See the pyramids | Ride the train across Russia | Keep bees | Raise children | Raft through the Grand Canyon | Sleep in a snow fort | Brew beer | Send holiday cards | Commit 50 poems to memory | Learn to roll a quarter down my knuckles like Val Kilmer in Real Genius...