I made a fast, less than graceful exit from San Miguel….
We had decided to leave on the first available bus early Saturday morning in order to maximize my two weeks of vacation. The taxi would pick us up at 6:15am for the 7:00am bus bound for Oaxaca.
My intention was to knock off early on Friday so as to have plenty of time to pack up my entire virtual office. As is usually the case with all pre-vacation planning, everything went to hell in a hand basket. About 3:00pm, my laptop began some kind of system update causing four excel spreadsheets to freeze simultaneously. After working with it for over an hour, there was no choice but to “cold boot” and start all over again on several reports that had to be done before I could leave for vacation. After a serious meltdown, I had no choice but to work straight through till 9:00pm to get it all finished. Then, it was time to start packing…
It was probably a good thing that the exit was so hectic, otherwise they may have had to haul me out, kicking and screaming all the way. Living in this beautiful house for five weeks was more than enough time for me to assimilate as if it were my own, particularly given my current “homeless” situation. The creature comforts lulled me into a sense of belonging that prompted Don to remind me daily, “You do remember you are going to have to leave here one day, right??” I even got attached to Oliver, the resident cat.
I experienced some interesting paradigms while I was living/working in San Miguel. Here are just a few:
Participating on conference calls with co-workers from India, London, and France as if I were in my “home office,” then stepping out for lunch to meet Don over “comida del dia,” or the Mexican plate of the day.
Sitting at my desk, listening for the man to yell “aaaagguuaaaa” up from the street, racing down to meet him with my five gallon empty bottle to exchange for a refill.
Grabbing the trash can and running at break-neck speed whenever I hear the “ding, ding, ding” of the garbage truck. There is no curbside pick-up, so one must race out into the street and wait your turn in line to hand up your garbage.
Seeing the gas delivery men driving up and down the streets with their 100 foot hoses, checking to see who needs their rooftop gas tank refilled.
Having to do research before each shopping trip, since all labels are in Spanish, and I cannot tell which skincare is “oily vs. dry.”
Risking hair cuts in another language. And color in a country where there is only one predominant hair color! (Who knew “caramel” was RED??)
So now, it is time to go, as the owners are on their way back from Italy. It has been a “life goal” for me to have the experience of living and working outside my own country, and I settled into the lifestyle much easier than I ever would have dreamed. I have my brother Don to thank for helping make this lifetime dream a reality.
Now comes the challenge of transporting my “virtual officina” across Mexico!