Back on track.

Hello, world!

Let me start this post by saying my recently fixed laptop crashed. Again. Last week. I called the company, explained the ridiculousness of the situation, and now have a new computer (the updated model!) being made, which should be in my possession in a few weeks. However, I leave Friday morning for an incredibly long tour, so I’m going to try to finish updating this blog from my home computer before then.

Here goes.

(P.S. I'm having issues with the HTML, so I apologize for the weird formatting discrepancies.)

In the middle of February, we had the unbelievable opportunity to travel to Central America for two weeks, spending our time in Guadalajara, Mexico, somewhere on the coast of El Salvador, and in San José, Costa Rica.

The gang arriving in Guadalajara.

While in Guadalajara, we performed both in the Teatro Degollado as well as in Plaza Degollado (the square outside of the theatre), where we were the final act for a week-long celebration of Guadalajara’s 467^th birthday.

Setting up inside Teatro Degollado.

A view from up top--we went to a concert by the main orchestra in Guadalajara.

A view of our stage in the plaza. Teatro Degollado is directly behind the stage.

A view from the stage. Yes, that is John Lennon in the background.

From the stage at night, with a crowd.

Hidayat warming up prior to the show.

Having studied Spanish in high school for 5 years, it was quite exciting to get some real world practice speaking Spanish! Jason had studied a little bit as well, so between the two of us and our translators, we were usually able to communicate fairly well with any necessary parties.

Hanging out in our hotel's restaurant.

The perfect afternoon in Guadalajara:

a latte, an umbrella, and a breezy temperature of about 80 degrees.

Also, as an Arizona native, I’d like to think I’ve been exposed to quite a bit of the Hispanic culture growing up. So being a connoisseur of Mexican food, getting the opportunity to eat Mexican food IN Mexico was awesome.

Enjoying the local specialty, tortas ahogadas: delicious pulled pork sandwiches which have been drenched with a spicy tomato sauce.

I will admit my surprise at the awesomeness of Mexico. That is, I think the American media paints Mexico with a less-than-flattering brush—we always hear about the drug wars, [the outbreak of the dreaded H1N1 “Swine” Flu, though this was much after our trip], the corruption in politics, etc. To be honest, I was worried about my safety prior to going: would I, as a white, American tourist-of-sorts, be mugged or robbed? Would I get sick from drinking the tap water?

The answer to any and all hypothetical, worrying questions was a resounding “no.” The people were incredible, the food was amazing, and the city of Guadalajara was wonderful. I never once felt worried about my safety…with perhaps the singular exception of riding in traffic. You thought American freeways were congested? You thought wrong. Yet, the amazing thing is I saw no accidents while I was there. Everyone is such a defensive driver that nobody gets hurt...somewhat backwards, logically, but it seems to work.

One of the biggest cultural differences I noted was the nearly-opposite conception of time. In America, being punctual is of the utmost importance. [For example, the band teacher at my high school used to say, “If you’re five minutes early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.”] In Hispanic culture, time is very flexible. No one is concerned with when things start, or how or when things will get done—they all just know that if it’s supposed to happen, it will…at some point. It’s funny, though, because this works both ways: you’ll be expected to drop everything to do a photo shoot at the hotel pool in 15 minutes, or, alternatively, hold the start of a performance for 30 minutes until the Governor shows up. At first, it’s a pretty shocking situation, especially when we spend so much time “being on time” in the States, but I found myself adjusting fairly easily and quickly to the new time paradigm [cheesy rhyming very much intended].

Sarah, Jason and me at a radio interview.

This was one of those get-dressed-for-a-photo-shoot-oh-wait-you-don't-need-to-look-nice-because-you're-actually-going-to-be-on-the-radio-instead moments.

In fact, one might say that I adjusted to the Hispanic conception of time so much that it influenced how I treated this blog…whoops.