Another workweek has come and gone. Enid and Robin are slowly getting over their colds. Just a few sniffles and coughs now. I never got it. Don’t know what I did to deserve that. Enid seems to have gotten over her reluctance to go to school. I started walking her over there with Robin every morning. I don’t know if that had anything to do with it. Probably she just has gotten used to the new school. Anyway, she is very cheerful now when we leave her there in the morning, which is quite gratifying. Today her class had their “venta de dulces” selling candy to raise money to buy a class pet. Next step is a class trip to the pet store. I think the plan is to buy fish.

At work I continue to spend my days mostly reading the scientific literature. But there seem to be some signs of movement recently towards getting some experiments started. Possibly some work on a gene called Protein Kinase C Zeta in follicular lymphoma, and possibly some work on a gene called TRAF3 in multiple myeloma. Plus hopefully a little microarray analysis of some breast tumor samples. I’m doing what I can to make some things happen. But I’m not stressing about it as much as I was at first. That was starting to keep me awake at night.

Just for fun, here’s my typical morning: Wake up whenever Enid does, hopefully around 7:30am but often earlier. Get Enid some breakfast if Robin hasn’t already. Take a shower and shave if I didn’t the night before. (When it’s hot I sometimes like to take a cold shower just before bed. The water isn’t really that cold, just cold enough to be refreshing). Iron my clothes. Help get Enid dressed. Usually by then it’s time to walk her over to school. The walk is nice. All three of us together, and it’s still cool outside at that hour. It’s only three of four blocks to her school, but Enid walks slowly so it takes about ten minutes. We usually talk along the way. Once there Enid gives us a series of alternating hugs and kisses, an invention of hers that she calls a “shamboni”. She asks us to walk out to the garden where the children play until class starts. All the teachers say “Buenos días Enid. ¿Cómo estás?” She’s getting less shy these days and will often smile and reply “¡Bien!”. Then she climbs up on top of the big plastic caterpillar and gives us a huge, joyful smile that says “Look at me!” I open my eyes wide with amazement and give her a big smile back that says “Look at you!” then wave goodbye and leave.

I kiss Robin goodbye at the corner and start walking to the bus stop. About a 15 minute walk. Careful crossing the streets. People don’t stop for stop signs here, sometimes don’t even slow down. Flock of big green and red parrots in the trees at the park making a hell of a noise. Trash in the streets. Lot’s of litterbugs in Mexico. The parks get cleaned, but not the streets. None of those crews of petty criminals in orange vests along the highways here. The other problem is that people put their trash out in any old bag or cardboard box they have handy, not city-provided containers with heavy lids. Stray dogs and cats tear open the bags. The trash gets spread all over, and it likely stays there until the next heavy rain washes it away.

Women sweeping carports and sidewalks in front of houses. Every morning see the same ones. I thought they were housewives at first. Now I realize they are domestic servants. Make the family breakfast and then tactfully disappear while they eat. Better to sweep outside while it’s still cool anyway. You also see lots of nannies here taking care of little children. They wear uniforms, kind of look like nurses. What do the mothers do all day? Not cooking and cleaning. Not raising their kids. Shopping at the mall?! Strange living among the rich…

Walk past a manhole cover with water gushing out and flooding the street. Third day it has been like that. Wonder when it will get fixed. Smells a little like sewage. Move over to far edge of the sidewalk so passing cars won’t splash me with it.

Pass the American football field. Home of the Pumas. American football is very popular here. When I walk by in the afternoon on my way home the field will be swarming with hundreds of little Mexican boys in shoulder pads and helmets. Parents in SUVs dropping them off. But in the morning the parking lot is used by students from CEDIM, a design college a few blocks away. As I walk by the guard asks me the time. I tell him, and think how odd it is that he doesn’t have a watch. Watches are pretty cheap.

Start down the hill now towards the bus stop on Morones Prieto. Other people coming up the hill, alone or in pairs, probably just got off a bus. At the bottom of the hill, by the fire station, someone stands waiting. He’ll flag down a bus, even though he’s not at a marked stop. People do it all the time. Buses stop anywhere, just flag them down like taxis. I could wait there with him, but I always walk to the marked bus stop farther down. I don’t know why. Walk past the main parking lot for CEDIM, right below the building. Always a line of cars waiting for a space. Wonder if they pay more to park so close? Notice there are more female students than males. Could be students at any U.S. college. Same clothes, hair, faces. Surprising how un-Mexican they look.

Get to the bus stop and wait for the bus. Never have to wait more than a few minutes. Lots of different routes go by here. Almost any bus will work, since I’m only going half a mile or so. First bus that comes along is the 202. Raise my hand (they’ll go right by if you don’t). Bus stops and I step on quickly (they don’t like to stop for very long). The fare is eight pesos. I hand the driver a ten peso coin as he pulls away from the curb. In between shifting gears he hands me a little stack of coins already stacked together in his change box: a five peso coin, a two peso coin, two one peso coins, and two fifty centavo coins. I put the two peso coin in my pocket and drop in rest in the fare slot. I wish the bus drivers back in Hawaii would make change. You’d never see that in the U.S.

A scruffy looking man with a beard is standing in the aisle in the back of the bus, struggling to stay balanced in the swaying vehicle as he plays the recorder. When he’s finished he’ll walk up and down the aisle collecting money. First time I’ve seen that. I sit down. People on the bus look more Mexican than the design students or my rich neighbors and their football playing kids. Dark skin for a change. My ride is very short, about three minutes. The bus swerves down a ramp and passes under Gonzalitos. No way to cross it except in a motor vehicle, otherwise I could walk or ride a bike. Once past Gonzalitos, the medical school is right in front of me. Reach up and press the red button. Beeping noise alerts the driver and he deftly swings over across two lanes of traffic and pulls up to my stop. Nobody argues with a bus. I step off before the bus has come to a complete stop, and as my feet hit the pavement the driver slams on the accelerator and the bus lurches away.

It’s starting to get hot now. Outside the med school cars and trucks and lots of little green taxis are turning the corner from Morones Prieto onto Calle Dr. Cantú. I wait for a break and dash across to the other side of the street (which is wet; seems like it’s always wet. Why?). A man stands on the other side waving a dirty rag in circles over his head with one hand and beckoning to the passing cars with the other. Couldn’t figure out those guys at first. Always waving those rags over their heads. Turns out they’re just selling parking spaces. 20 pesos, park as long as you want, pay when you leave. Nice to know someone is watching your car while you’re gone.

Something smells mightily of dead fish. That’s new. Enter the gate and cross the medical center parking lot, pass by the hospital entrance (saw actual, honest-to-god conjoined twins walking out of there the other afternoon; first time in my life). Cross the concrete plaza in front of the med school. Gets awfully slippery when it rains; can’t believe they did a trowel finish, should have broomed it. Through the doors and up five flights of stairs (swore off elevators; stairs are the only exercise I get these days). Building still smells new. Automatic doors open. Walk in and say “Buenos días” to Marisol, the receptionist. Ladders in the hallway, wires strewn on the floor. They’re working on something again. Unlock the door to my office. “Marc Crepeau Cull” the sign says. Still can’t get used to seeing my mother’s maiden name stuck on the end like that. When in Rome.... Enter, put down my briefcase. Unlock the cabinet and take out my computer. Plug it in and turn it on. Get my bag of coffee out of the cabinet (first things first!). Chiapas. Smells good. Three scoops. What the hell, four scoops. Down the hall for water. Pour it in the machine and press start. Hiss…gurgle, gurgle. Such a happy sound! Sit down and get to work.