Monterrey, Mexico: Trip 2

Robert and I took a trip over the weekend to Monterrey. Trip number two, went better than trip number one. While on trip number one, Monterrey received the name, “F*$king Monterrey” because there were five adults squeezed in a pickup truck with an extended cab. The problem was I rode bitch for the six hours up and the eight hours back. Not exactly the most comfortable ride.

For the most part, I enjoy going to the place Robert loves. Robert spent his summers growing up Mexico. It is where he learned how to kiss. You have to respect that.

This particular weekend we went to visit his family and celebrate Our Lady of Guadalupe day.

My big hang- up is the food. The meals consist of mostly meat, tortillas, hot sauce and avocado. The meat is usually always full of grease and sometimes fried. Not that I am the healthiest person in the world, but I need some greens every once in a while.

Since February of this year, I started eating meat again after fourteen years. I knew with my increased biking miles I would need the protein and had to recover my muscles. The powder protein was just not enough. Eating meat is still a little strange for me but I have learned how to listen to my body and give it what it needs.

Sunday morning, after two days of Mexican food, we drive up to grandmother’s house for a breakfast of barbacoa (meat from the head of a goat), menudo (the stomach of a cow), and lengua (cows tounge). Not exactly the menu a used to be vegetarian was expecting. Could I just get some oatmeal and fruit, please?

I politely gathered pears, oranges, cantaloupe, grapefruit, and a banana. I cut them up on a plate and sat at the table making usual broken spinach/English conversation. When I was about three-fourth done with my fruit plate, I found a worm wiggling on the table. I could bet that I felt a worm wiggling in my mouth and forced a swallow.

I am not sure why I was so upset but I felt like I wanted to cry. No food. A new country where I can’t speak the language and a worm in my food. All I could do was walk out and leave the plate where it was. Robert got the worm and I never saw where he put it.

It took me a while to calm down and Robert took me to McDonalds for my traditional egg and cheese biscuit. Upon returning, I have vowed to not eat another tortilla until the New Year and never eat fruit from Mexico again.