Fútbol, Heartaches, and Agua

Saturday afternoon I attended my first live fútbol game.  Man, do these people love the game or what?!  Outside of the stadium people scurried around, trying to buy tickets from the booth or from anyone who had extras.  Just before entering the stadium I found several booths lined up selling Gallos’ (Querétaro’s team) jerseys.  I had to pass through three security checkpoints just to get into the stadium.  Once there, I joined the other international teachers in the fenced in Gallos section—cheers and songs rooting the team on welcomed me to my seat.  The group I was with sat in the section framed in by fencing and barbed wire.  Polícia surrounded the field, in complete combat gear with shield.  I didn’t have to ask anyone why—Mexico is famous for its fan fights.  I enjoyed the atmosphere, and the cheers.  Val, a National teacher at my school, explained that one of the cheers was “Roosters with balls”; everyone in our section who knew the cheer was singing it, even the little kids.  Whenever the crowd was upset, they would throw their 32 oz cups of beer into the rest of the crowd—I only got a little sprinkle at the end of the game.  Gallos ended up losing 1-2.  Over-zealous fans combined with cheap alcohol did not end well.  After the game, a few fights broke out in the stadium, but the worst of it was outside.  We ended up running for our car because the Polícia and some drunk teenagers were throwing rocks at each.  One of the teachers who wasn’t with my immediate group took video footage and posted it online:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oWeWAFaW6o

After the game we went to Sarah’s apartment (same girl who gave me the pills), then to another girl’s place to have a drink before going downtown for dinner.  My drink was a coca-cola.  We wandered around down town, and again I was struck by the two extremes in Querétaro:  poor vs. rich.  The streets are lined with beggars and cripples, especially outside of the churches, and people pass by them without even a second thought, bent on spending their money on food, drink, and entertainment.  Even sitting down at an outdoor restaurant, children come by trying to sell little trinkets, or beg for money for their blind mother.  My heart breaks for these people, and I know that giving them money will not fix their problems.  All I can do is pray for them as I pass by.  I’m sure I will get more used to this contrast, but I hope that I don’t become desensitized.

This morning I managed to drop my clothes off at a Lavandería, or Laundromat where they wash and dry it for you, procure a 20L garrafón of water and haul it back to my apartment.  The ladies at the lavandería were nice and told me I could pick up my clothes after 7pm tonight or tomorrow any time after 8pm.  I told them tomorrow, they gave me a receipt stating it would be $59 pesos for about 5 kilos (about $4.75 US for about 11lbs); I thanked them and went to see about water.  The old gentleman at the little shop was very nice and patient with my limited Spanish.  I said, “Hablo un poquito español” (I speak a little Spanish), and he replied, with a big smile, “Perfecto!”  I was able to tell him I wanted water but I didn’t have a jug to trade.  He told me I would have to pay $77 pesos ($22 pesos for the full jug of water and then I had to pay for an empty one since I didn’t have one to trade, which was $35).  The shop was only about two blocks from my apartment, so it wasn’t too difficult.  

This evening I get to meet my 6^th graders and help with team-building activities, opening lockers, and building Sundays!  I’ll let you know how that turns out!

As always, thank you for your prayers and encouragements—they mean a lot to me!