Libby_or_Bust

So this will be a summary post, as I am writing from the computer of a cousin of Rosalva. Rey and Rosalva have been treating me great, but I have virtually no control over what I do or when I do it outside of the house. It sounds as if I’ve been kept against my will, but that’s totally not the case, it’s just there are some cultural and generational differences that I’m not sure how to bridge or explain without being offensive or ungrateful. For example, the issue of the internet. R & R don’t have a computer and the idea of using the internet for communication is not a part of their world, so when I say I’d like to use the internet in Matamoros, they take me to the house of a family member and I use the internet there. Obviously it’s nice because I don’t get charged, but I also don’t feel the leisure of an internet cafe where I can spend hours reading and replying to the lovely messages sent by friends and family, and the forwards sent to me by my mom.
Anyway, I am safe and having a good time and totally immersed in Spanish and meeting lots of family members of R & R and eating like a queen of the carnivores. I have never traveled like this before, going from family to more family and then back to family, and it is just so different! My family is so tiny we almost have negative members, and it seems like every street in every town we go through in Texas and in Mexico holds some kind of relative of Rey or Rosalva. There are a few things I’ve noticed about big families, namely that when spending time all together the conversation is mainly about other people that are also related and there are continual questions like, “How are we related?” and, “Who’s that again?” Another issue with big families is that in them are a lot of distant relatives and once you are in their house and done with pleasantries and health issue updates, there are a lot of awkward silences. Like my mother, I’m of the persuasion to fill that awkward silence with my own voice to smooth things over, but I am unable to do that with the Spanish I know. So mostly I just stare at the other people and hope they won’t ask me a question or think I’m weird. With Rosalva’s family, I wish so badly that I was fluent in Spanish because I like her sisters and cousins so much and want them to like me. They are hilarious, especially when they’re all together, and they don’t even drink! I can capture most of what they’s saying, but can’t contribute the way I want to and end up with my linguistic shoelaces tied together trying to walk. Struggle. I give Rosalva so much credit for being my friend in Spanish because I wouldn’t be my own friend in Spanish and she’s so good to me. It’s nice.
So far we’ve visited family in Monterrey and Anahuac (where Rosalva is originally from) and are heading into the mountains this weekend to a ranch owned by Rey’s family (that is if he can remember how to get there). I’ll probably be out on my own middle of February, heading up to Chihuahua, over to the Baja, down to Guadalajara and Guanajuato, Mexico City, over to Oaxaca, continuing to Chiapas and a bit of the Yucatan.