Sunday Night Thoughts #10 Taking advantage of new subtitle capabilities.

Chilling at home in Guadalajara after four nights in a small town near Ciudad Guzman, next to the Colima Volcano. It’s strange to be back in GDL, which after almost three months sort of feels like home. Emphasis on the “sort of.” There’s only one place that truly feels like home for me. It’s the Northwest corner of United States, and specifically the Northwest corner of the Northwest corner of the United States. I won’t give it away completely, but its name rhymes with “Preattle.”

A week from Tuesday I head to the South American capital of Lima, where my life, at least for the first couple weeks, will probably continue much like it has the last few months in GDL. I’ll do my Instagram job, I’ll teach online, I’ll walk around, I’ll go to cafes. But then after Lima I’m hoping to get off the beaten path a bit. So far the top two destinations in mind are Bolivia and Brazil. Brazil recently made their visa for Americans much cheaper, and much easier to get. Before it cost around $200 USD and you had to get it before leaving the country. Now it costs $44 and you can get it online. So, the Amazon?

I still really want this blog to be successful, and to do that I think I need to start doing more things worth writing about. Benjamin Franklin once famously said, “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” To be honest, I’ve been a bit frustrated with how slow the progress with this blog is going, and I’m not exactly sure what to do. A writer friend of mine said I should make a decision: Either make it super introspective, first person narrative, basically embracing the journal angle to the fullest, or write things that people might find useful, like travel tips, reviews, etc. So far Ordinary Nomad has been kind of a mix. When it comes to blogging, I don’t really know what I’m doing, despite having done it for a long time. I know what I’m doing when it comes to traveling. I know how to find the cheapest flights, good, cheap lodging, good restaurants and cafes, and I have an ability to get myself into interesting situations, in places most people don’t go. But so far it hasn’t translated to blogging success. And it’s frustrating.

I’m waiting for my pizza to come, which is sausage and black olive. This is my new Sunday tradition. I order a pizza and I sit watching an episode of Black Mirror, or YouTube chess videos. In El Fresnito I played a lot of chess, against the computer, because at night there wasn’t much else to do. And thank God there wasn’t much to do. The best moments this weekend consisted of lying in the grass and looking up at that clouds.

I hope this post finds all of you well, wherever you are in your corners of the world. I like to imagine where you are, you few readers, when you read this. New York? Seattle? Somewhere in the Philippines? This blog, weirdly, gets a small trickle of traffic from the Philippines. I have no idea why.

I awoke this morning full of hope for April and for the future, and that hope continues. It was right around the height of this hope that I took the picture featured on this entry, from a bus window, of the Nevado de Colima. I realize the horizon line is tilted. But I like this photo because it’s ordinary. Even if that’s something I don’t want this blog to be.

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Sunday Night Thoughts #9

calle libertad guadalajara

The witching hour. The time of night when the light becomes crepuscular. When YOU become crepuscular in your thoughts and deeds. When you take a familiar route and suddenly notice that your surroundings are no longer familiar, that you’re lost. When you get home and the lights are off and all is silent. This is the witching hour. And it’s my favorite time of day.

Anyway.

Hello.

It’s Sunday night. And today has been great, but for no particular reason. I watched an episode of Black Mirror with D, a phenomenal show, and then we went to a sort of cafe with seating that was sort of outdoors and sort of indoors, a sort of open air, Caribbean feel, and I commented to her that I felt like I was “back in Cuba,” or “back in the Dominican,” despite the fact that I’ve never been to the Dominican.

When I got home I watched the Dortmund v. Hannover game, in which Christian Pulisic, my favorite player, had some wonderful dribbles. And then I worked my Instagram job, which I STILL somehow haven’t been fired from, and went out to wander a bit, and when I exited my house the light was perfect, the temperature was perfect, and I looked up at the treetops and suddenly my life was perfect, and I thought about how today will never be repeated, how each moment is a wonderful thing, and yes, one day my body will be in the ground, it will decompose, but for right now I’m fighting to add content to my life, to add meaning. I’m fighting to read poetry, to write poetry, to take pictures, to go surfing, to talk with friends, to help people, to learn, to teach, to love, to fight, to cry, and all that stuff. I’m fighting for living.

My first stop was El Expiatorio where I got a tamal rojo. I sat on the steps of the cathedral eating it and looking out over the plaza. Some people I met right when I got to GDL came up to me and said hi, and we talked for way longer than I expected, and the conversation was strangely refreshing. Then I walked to La Teteria, where I had a mocha frappuccino, talked to some friends on WhatsApp, worked a bit, and wrote in my journal. I’ve been keeping a journal religiously lately, thought I don’t know what kind of religion. It’s not catholic. It’s not muslim. It might be buddhist.

The light continued to be perfect at La Teteria. My mocha frappuccino had coffee beans in a it for decoration. After finishing it I walked into the cool, night air, down Libertad and over to Miguel Blanco, where I stopped at Aero Pizza on the way home. Tonight seemed like a perfect night to sit on the couch and eat pizza and watch a movie. I’m going to watch the new Tomb Raider movie with Alicia Vikander, mostly because I used to be obsessed with this video game and also because Alicia Vikander might be one of the most attractive people on the planet.

It’s been a pretty ordinary day, but it’s been a good day. It’s been a pretty ordinary week, but it’s been a good week. I plan for this trend to continue (minus, at times, the ordinary).

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My Other Favorite Cafe in Guadalajara

You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together. – Anthony Bourdain

I already wrote about my favorite cafe in Guadalajara, a place called El Terrible Juan that has cute waitresses and serves coffee that isn’t horrible. In fact, yesterday I tried their aeropress for the first time and would describe how I felt afterward as, “Not massively disappointed.” It still wasn’t great, and the fact of the matter is coffee in Latin America generally sucks, but it was palatable, well-prepared, and tasted at least semi-recently roasted. It also made me feel like a mad genius for the next couple of hours, which is the mark of good coffee. Bad coffee makes me feel anxious and like the world is crumbling around me; good coffee makes me feel like the world is crumbling but that I’ll emerge from the rubble unscathed.

But on to Rendezvous, my other favorite cafe. Rendezvous lies on the corner of Calle Colonias and Calle Libertad, and was the first cafe/restaurant I ever went to in Guadalajara. It’s one of those places you walk by, especially at night, and the lighting is chic and romantic and cozy, like the only people who go there are bohemian artist types who somehow don’t smell bad, and you think, “Damn, I want to be there.” And so you go there, and you realize the product isn’t expensive and that it’s good, the pizza for example only costs 50 pesos ($2.68), a glass of wine 40 pesos ($2.14), and the music good and often live and people are having a good time and are generally bohemian artist types (aka the modern version aka graphic designers), though whether they smell good or not I haven’t confirmed.

Rendezvous is supposed to be a French cafe/restaurant. There is nothing French about this place except the name. Sure, some of the drinks have names of famous French people. Yesterday I ordered a “Monet,” which was some kind of fruity tea with lemon and honey. I don’t exactly see what’s French about that. And the menu includes things like pizza and nachos, which again don’t strike me as particularly French. The service is the only thing that might be vaguely French, in that many of the servers seem slightly arrogant and are wont to forget about you for hours (see: minutes) on end. It’s the kind of place where you order one thing, they bring you another, and the general feeling is, “Look, I know what you ordered. But I also know what you need.”

Rendezvous is only open in the evenings and lies in the prestigious Chapultepec neighborhood of Guadalajara, a block from the American Consulate and across from the fresa Mercado Mexico, a place where people go to spend too much on yoga and Asian food prepared by Mexicans who have no idea how to prepare Asian food (Note: Latin Americans generally have no idea how to prepare Asian food. I went to an upscale “Thai” restaurant in Bogota one time and they served Phad Thai with linguine noodles).

If you go to Rendezvous, be prepared for wonderful ambience, live music (on the weekends), decent food, great prices, and waiters who might not be incredibly attentive but will make you love them anyway. I’m falling more in love with Guadalajara everyday, and this cafe/restaurant is one of many reasons why.

Details:

Rendezvous-Cafe

Libertad 1903, Americana, 44170 Guadalajara, Jal.

rendezvousgdl.wixsite.com

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