Wondering why the jump between hot and wet?

I was away for 15 days in Philadelphia, Washington, New York and Mexico City. Highlights for this water-deprived Bajio dweller, staying near the water in Red Hook. Brooklyn, then taking the IKEA ferry across to Wall Street; seeing family and friend. Going to and from a family wedding in Washington in my son's car from Philadelphia was easy. So was riding the Megabus round trip between Philadelphia and Penn Station, New York. The World Cup started while I was staying at a hostel in Philadelphia and of course was still on when I came back to Mexico. As my landlady told me later, Mexican football announcers have a chispa, spark. Yes, in comparison, the US announcers were stolid. I also saw the world class photo exhibit Roads to Freedom, black and white photos of the Civil Rights Movement, 1956-1968; Dead or Alive, contemporary art using natural materials at the Museum of Arts and Design; and in Mexico City, an engrossing exhibit of I think ninety beyond-black works by the French artist, Pierre Soulages at the Museo de la Ciudad de Mexico. Now, as you can see by the rainy day post below, it's back to everyday life. Also to a World Cup without Mexico.

When I walked home today from El Centro with Barbara Davoli, who has been teaching English here for fifteen years or more, I realized I was accompanying a master communicator. Funny to hear her calling a Mexican acquaintance by a Russian name, as he did her. She told me they tease each other because they don't know each other's real names. In fact, many Mexicans have imported first names, partly to differentiate one Lopez, Gonzales or Garcia from another. I've even met a student named Stalin. He told me he was #17 in his family and his father was running of names. Who knows?

Because I suffer from hearing loss, I'm not Barbara's equal but I find bumping into people I know as I walk about town one of the joys of Guanajuato life.