It was actually a short goodbye this morning to Kelly and Kelsey, since I felt like I was still asleep until about an hour after I left them at the airport. I couldn’t remain in my fatigued state for long; I had a full day ahead of me. Upon leaving the airport I first boarded the yellow line of the metro, took it one stop and transferred to the green line, took that for three stops and changed over to the pink line that I took to the final exit, Observatorio. I then took a “pesero” for about 5 minutes to the ABC Hospital that is right next to The American School, my final destination.
At the Fulbright anniversary party I was invited to play softball on Sunday mornings at The American School. I entered the campus and walked across the well-groomed bright green baseball field, dropped my things in the dugout, ran to the outfield and promptly began fielding batting practice. I soon had a great catch to let the guys know that I can play – I was one of two girls there today. It was a completely enjoyable morning, the sun was shining and the players were very friendly, especially since the game was just played for fun during this bye-week. All morning though I felt like my jaw hung, in awe of the school grounds that remind me of privileged, exclusive ones in Chicago like Walter Payton College Prep, Northside, New Trier and Lake Forrest. One team, The Yankees are made up of workers from the U.S. Embassy and its various departments like the DEA (Drug Enforcement), ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms) and ICE (Immigration and Customs). A couple players from other teams also took part, they work for the Canadian Embassy, two are Fulbrighters, one guy from Madison is in Mexico City teaching third grade and there were more. I was satisfied with my performance, going 2-5 with an RBI and pretty solid defense – minus the one inning I played catcher and the mask slid all the way down and hung around my neck, with my head poking through the straps that are supposed to sit on top of and behind the head. After the game we enjoyed 10 peso beers and cheap tacos at a small, local market.
In the afternoon I went to see a movie, “Camina Sin Mi” (Go Without Me – the original French title is “Va, vis et deviens”), that is part of the Mexico-France Film Festival. The film is based on the Israel and U.S. initiative in 1985, to transport thousands of Ethiopian Jews (Falashas) to Israel. The movie tells the story of a mother who has her son declare that he is Jewish to save him from dying of hunger. A Sephardic French family that lives in Tel-Aviv adopts the boy. He fears that his double secret will be found out: that he is neither Jewish nor an orphan. The movie spans about 10 years, during which the boy truly “becomes” Jewish and finds love, but also faces racism and war in the occupied territories – but he never forgets his mother. The subtitles were in Spanish and the audio shifted between French, Hebrew and an African language. The movie, one of the best I have ever seen, is a fascinating true story and the fictional one is well developed and also captivating.
