My wings are tired... it's been a long flight at high altitudes.

Hi.

I'm back.

It's been exactly a month since I left Mexico, nearly three since my last blog post. I had intended to write while I was in Mexico. There were plenty of things to say. I even had one post (about a city bus experiment gone wrong) half-written, but I never got around to finishing it and posting it. Don't get me wrong, I wrote a montón (that means a lot) while I was there. Most of it was in Spanish, however, and the effort of translating, anonymizing, getting to a computer with a decent internet connection, and finding enough time to type up my long, rambling discourses, tended to be overshadowed by other things calling my attention. Like a visit to the Mérida zoo, whose fauna includes tigrillos, peacocks, and yes, even grey squirrels. Or a screening of Los contrabandistas del Caribe, a Puerto Rican film with a low budget which shows and makes for a thoroughly entertaining experience. Or Mayan language classes. Or getting caught in a downpour in the middle of city and wading through the streets-come-rivers on the way to Mayan language class. Or trying to buy Yucatecan hammocks without getting ripped off. Or relaxing in the Plaza Grande, anolando cotton candy, chatting with the locals, and watching the children chasing the pigeons. Or climbing the Mayan pyramids which were literally in people's backyards in Izamal. Or going to the Parque de Santa Lucía to see the four-man trios perform while savoring that amazing piña colada ice cream in a freshly-made waffle cone. You get the idea.

The short version is, I went to Yucatán and fell in love. And I learned a lot. And I wrote a lot, but I stuck to the old-fashioned pen-and-paper method.

For the last several weeks, I have been trying to settle back into my nest in this peculiar place that I sometimes call home. Getting back into the routine of normal university classes. Tackling an impossibly long (and always growing) reading list. Getting used to the fact that I am not a minority here (except at the grocery store. When I went the other day I felt like I was in Mexico again. It was wonderful.) Remembering what being alone feels like, since my best friends in the world are, well, in other parts of the world. Catching up with old friends. Stressing about the future and trying to plan it even though I know that ultimately, I am not the one in control of it. Buying flamenco shoes and falling in love with Spanish dance. Cultivating other saviors of sanity, like NPR podcasts and phonecalls to Mom and gchats with Naiad and, well, diving back into the blog world.

That would be a skydive. Skylarks are not aquatic creatures, after all.