Semana 9 Lunes

Daisy is beginning to enjoy spending time in her sling facing outwards instead of inwards, so she can see the world. We pop to the market with her facing out, much to the delight of the stallholders.


Daisy has become a market celebrity. Everyone knows her name (particularly the fact she is called Nichim) and they throw in extra oranges and other fruits ‘for the baby’. It’s odd to think that next time we are here she will be able to try some of them.

Judging by the flavours of the baby jars here, Mexican like to wean their children on chayote, which is a kind of bland cactus, as well as mango and avocado. Bit different from at home, but we’ll just have to see what she likes.


We also begin to suspect that our drooling little girl is cutting a tooth, since we can see a little toothbud at the front. She’s having a good chew on everything she can find and is a bit clingy. Can’t quite believe she is getting so grown up.

Semana 9 Domingo

Baby Pablo turns six months old, which is apparently a matter for much celebration here. Pablo himself is in a totally celebratory mood and wants to show off his new trick, copied from Daisy, which is making loads of pterodactyl style noises.


We have a cake of some magnificence which Pablo doesn’t get to enjoy and neither does Daisy since we have put her to sleep in the bathroom so as not to wake her when Pablo arrives. She goes down surprisingly well and doesn’t wake until her boyfriend has gone home. We also finally manage to remove the crayon marks from the fireplace using some kind of lurid green stuff the cleaner has left by accident. It is probably highly toxic.

Semana 9 Sabado

Baby massage course number three is an exploration of how to massage the chest and arms, marred by a little too much talk.

Mariet and KiKi bring Itamar as well as Pablo, and she behaves herself surprisingly well, lying in Mariet’s arms to be massaged. Daisy is slightly less keen today and spends the entire time shouting, peeing and wanting to be fed. Never mind, we can always try again later.


After massage we buy a ready roasted chicken with tortillas and salsa (mmm), and share it with Kiki and Mariet. No sooner have they left than Sophia and Raul turn up in a state of high excitement. They’ve found a house their project can share with Chozita. It has several rooms and a garden with trees and lots and lots of space… and it’s really very affordable… they’re talking so fast I can scarcely follow them.. Paul promises to go and see it on Monday.

Semana 9 Viernes

Our house-hunting begins in earnest, when Lore and her husband Julio take us to see the terreno they are selling on the edge of the city.

It’s a site called a ‘fraccionamiento” which means that it is being divided up between people. On the edge of a protected reserve, Lore and family are going to build several houses, including their own.


It’s tempting, but we don’t think it’s right. It’s a beautiful place, and the houses the family will build there will be gorgeous (they own a local hotel, and we’ve seen it, so we know they have a real sense of style and taste). Also, they would build us a house to our own specifications (chimney, bath, etc).

However, it’s a little bit more than we’d want to spend (though still absurdly cheap by British standards), and would be harder to rent out when we aren’t here because it isn’t walkable to the centre. We’ll keep looking, but it was quite exciting to look at the possibilities, and nice that they would like us to have a house so close to theirs.

Semana 9 Jueves

We go to a Thanksgiving party, organised by Paul’s Spanish teacher, which turns out to be great fun. Laura’s boyfriend Ray is in the American Peace Corps, and a bunch of them are down here sorting out computing networks in the local university.

We celebrate with possibly the largest mutant turkey in the world, which tastes utterly delicious, and mashed potatoes, huge amounts of stuffing, and apple pie. The Americans are very happy and even let Laura (who is a born teacher) teach them about the origins of the Thanksgiving holiday. Daisy even gets to do some salsa dancing – at least one of us has some Latin rhythm!


Afterwards we have a cake (baked by Mariet, it’s nice to put some business her way) to celebrate Ray’s birthday. In true Mexican fashion he has to have his face pushed into it. When we leave, everyone is dancing, but Daisy has to go to bed.

Semana 8 Miercoles

Sophia and Raul, who run a project for young adults (slightly older than the kids at La Chozita) come for lunch together with Ivan, who used to work for Unicef, and is now helping out with the kids’ project.

It can be tough getting lunch together after a two hour Spanish class, especially when Daisy is not playing ball, and you have the slowest oven in the world. Daisy has just learnt to hold up her arms when she wants to be lifted up, and is NOT happy to be put in her seat when she could be having a cuddle, I’m torn between trying to make lasagne, chopping up bananas for pudding, making bread and carrying her around.


By the time Paul comes back three quarters of an hour late from his Spanish class, I’m frazzled, tearful and have béchamel sauce in my hair. Never mind, at least our guests turn out to be very nice, and kind about my beginners’ Spanish.

Sophia and Raul live out on a ranch in Teopisca, which sounds fantastic. They have chickens, pigs and other animals, and seem to have a very nice life here. I sigh, thinking about London, but I know we have to go back.

Still, it’s fun to discuss their charity and Chozita possibly sharing a building, which would be a great solution to the current problem with Chozita (i.e. what to do when Paul goes back to the UK and can’t run things). He has created a great bunch of people who want to help out with the kids in a really short space of time, which is really cheering. San Cristobal is that sort of place though, word gets around and lots of people want to help out… they also all seem to know each other, which is impressive. This really is a very small city.

Semana 8 Martes

Mexican Independence Day dawns fine and warm, and everyone is out in force to celebrate the overthrow of Mexican dictator Porfidio Diaz in 1911. I’d be more in the mood if it wasn’t for the cocktails the night before, but you can’t have everything.

Despite the general celebrations, my very serious Spanish teacher insists on classes, so I make my way through the crowded Zocalo to school, avoiding the candyfloss, icecream and balloon sellers along the way.


On my way, I pass San Cristobal’s latest attraction, a street cleaning machine. This is the first such machine the city has ever had, and it has caused much excitement, including an article in the local paper. It is so exciting that it even knocked a story about a chicken stealer (or robagallina – great word) onto the back page. The machine has not yet been allowed to do any actual cleaning. Instead, it sits in the main square with the plastic cover still on the seat, guarded heavily by police (presumably to discourage joyriders). People even have their pictures taken next to it.


Aside from the street cleaning machine, Independence Day’s main attraction is a desfile, or procession. Every school and sports team in the city takes to the street, and everyone who is left turns out to watch. Children dress as revolutionaries in sombreros and moustaches, which are called bigotes here, which is also the word for croissant.


Many schools organise processions of some complexity, involving strange shuffling dances, twirling batons, and the ever-popular human pyramids.

Well, some schools do. Other schools turn out in their jeans and the children slouch along looking bored – but no-one seems to mind, because apparently it is enough just to turn up.
After my serious teacher realises I can’t hear him teaching the imperative (dreadful, lots of irregulars) over the sound of a marching band, I’m finally allowed to watch five minutes of desfile. It’s great stuff, but mostly seems to involve girls in very mini miniskirts. I’m sure it can’t be good for the older inhabitants’ bloodpressure.

We then go for lunch with Eneas and Mari – which is thankfully offal and chicken’s feet free. Mari puts Daisy on her back for a bit while she does some cooking, and Daisy later throws up on Mari’s shoes, and also on the pink “Grandma’s House” dress we have had to put her in because Mari and Eneas bought it for her as a present. Maybe it will shrink in the wash?