Day 31

Long Overdue.

It's been a little while since I wrote anything, but that's only because I was busy doing totally blog-worthy things, such as:

1. becoming the token gringo in an American football league, which is ironic since I never seriously played the sport while in America (I have confirmed earlier suspicions that football is not my calling in life),
2. joining another soccer team,
3. logging a solid 45 minutes behind the wheel of a car during rush hour traffic in Queretaro (I got cut off by a teenage girl driving a Ford Aerostar),
4. attending couple bbq's/parties with my friend Alex,
5. experiencing the Mexican custom of drinking beers on the street after a long week, which was followed by 
6. moving to a friend's half-built house to finish the crate of beers while sitting on boxes of tiles, and
7. going to my first professional soccer game in Mexico: the Queretaro Gallos Blancos vs. America from Mexico City.

Needless to say, it's been a very busy 10 days or so.  Which is great, except that I woke up Monday morning thinking it was Sunday.  Kinda feels like the work week started off with an illegal blow below the belt, just saying.

So anyways, about this soccer game:  Alex and I got tickets from a friend at work and hit the stadium on Sunday afternoon.  We sat with La Resistencia, Queretaro's group of hooligans.  I was fairly warned beforehand that I should be careful/ready for them, and I mentally prepared myself as much as I could--I mean, I was ready to drink a beer and cheer loudly.  But I was completely blindsided when everyone in the stands just straight up started running towards the field, and then back up again, and then side-to-side.  They have a song which clearly tells everyone who wants to to get out of the way what's coming.  But being as that my Spanish still kinda sucks, I missed the memo.  And then got shoved in back, straight into some guy's girlfriend, at which point the guy felt the need to express his discontent for my actions.  A few minutes later, I think he realized that it was the mob of people behind me who forced the foul, and we exchanged the international dude symbol for "we're cool": we slapped five, in the bro way (part high-five, part handshake, part chest bump).


Other fun facts from the game...  I witnessed--and then later smelled--a drug deal go down, people from my section got in a fight with the police after the game, and I learned that it's pretty common for the same hooligans to fill cups full of urine and then launch it at the people further down into the stands.  VERY glad to report that I didn't learn this firsthand, only heard rumors about it this morning at the office.  La Resistencia are a little too into cheering/moshing/urinating for my taste (watching the game?), but I still think I've found a home team that I can support.

There are so many things that I have forgotten to mention, such as Fabio The Spanish Teacher.  I think the other ones may be lost forever, but let me quit this post and give Fabio his own, since he's totally deserving.