How is your Spanish coming?

Location: Mereda, Yucatan

My life has always been a bit surreal, but arriving in Merida, Yucatan, Mexico, has only increased the voltage. Here I am without an interpreter and barely know enough Spanish to order a hot cup of coffee.

When carrying on conversations with taxi drivers, hotel staff, vendors and strangers, I am not really sure what they are asking, and I am pretty sure that my answers are equally opaque.

Then there is the art of finding my way in a city that has numbered streets, but the numbers seem to be in the order that they were recorded, and do not follow any decipherable sequence or grid. And should I find the street, there are no numbers on the building.

So, I am not exactly sure where I am or how to get where I am going, And if I say, “Sí,” what am I agreeing to, and if I say “No,” what exactly am I refusing?

It is a rather confusing experience, but I love it, sort of like living in multiple realities simultaneously, or going to a job interview after taking hallucinogens.

Adios, Amigos.