And the heavens opened up

Well, I should probably be reading right now, but it's already 10 pm and I think most of us know how well I work at this time of night. Regardless, I'd rather get this all down while it's still fresh in my mind.

I finally managed to get up early this morning (with no help from the mosquito that buzzed around my head all night), and managed to conquer the stairs. Ann Blum and Bill French have been coming here for the seminar for many years now and every morning they climb a set of stairs up the mountainside that overlooks the city. With an open invite for anyone who wants to join them, I decided it was about time to work off some of those tortillas. The climb up was well worth the effort.

Aside from the view of Oaxaca and many of the surrounding areas, we encountered a number of people who were collecting bugs. Were they entomologists? No, they were not. What you may not know is that one of the many unique features of Oaxacan cuisine is insects. The most commonly known delicacy are chapulines, or what we would call grasshoppers. They come in all sizes and, just to warn you, I may not be able to leave Oaxaca without sampling them myself. On this particular day, however, the insects in question were not chapulines but chicatanas. As it turns out, chicatanas only come out between the heavy rains and, in all their years climbing los escaleros, Ann and Bill had never witnessed this bug collecting before. Chicatanas appear to be very large flying ants, almost an inch in length. A kilo of these things sells for 1000 pesos. Tasty I'm sure, but I'm going to take their word for it.

My long climb was followed by a giant glass of fresh-squeezed OJ and a casual wander home, where I was treated to another quesillo omelet - my favorite breakfast so far. After a couple hours of work at the Italian Coffee House around the corner and another good chat with my classmate and neighbor Shayna, I headed to the Institute for a seminar on gender and history with the aforementioned Ann and Bill. Thus far, the seminars have been challenging and enlightening on many levels. It's amazing to be given the opportunity to interact so closely with so many talented scholars, and it just shows me how much I need to up my game.

Following the seminar, we headed to the Cathedral to catch the Corpus Christi procession, which celebrates the consecration of the body of Christ. For the first time thus far, I was ready to get some footage on video. After wandering in a little market near the Cathedral and checking out a bookstore across the street, we scouted out a spot on the corner to watch the procession. I waited, camera in hand. Out of nowhere, fireworks exploded overhead, the procession left the church, the skies opened up, and it proceeded to pour rain. As we all frantically huddled under umbrellas, I attempted to hold the camera steady while simultaneously keeping it dry. As soon as the procession rounded the corner, we hurried back to the Institute to get out of the rain. We arrived soaking wet about 15 minutes later. (In case you're wondering, the camera is safe and dry.)

All of us began flooding into the seminar room for movie night, few having been spared by the rain. As we watched Entre Pancho Villa y una mujer desnuda we listened to the rain thundering on the roof overhead, punctuated by the occasional roll of thunder. Although it's rained here every day so far, this was by far the longest and most intense rainstorm we've had. Even now, four hours later, I can hear it pouring outside. I don't mind the rain; all I ask is that my shoes dry quickly.