Touching really old books with your bare hands

Some of the books I looked at in the Biblioteca Nacional were part of the fondo reservado.

Where in the other collections, I was allowed to look at three books at a time, this collection only allowed me to use one. I was lucky in that they let me in there without a special ID.

Already nervous about oils from my hands or tearing pages from books over 100 years old, I noticed that another one of the library patrons had a glove with which he used to turn pages. That will make a person feel pretty freaky. Perhaps I’ll get gloves for my next visit to an archive.

Below is a picture of a book I was looking at. It says it has a section on carving and table service, which would be awesome, but it wasn’t in there. I did find some interesting notes - someone was using this as a recipe book.

The UNAM Library

It turns out I like library and archival research.

Here's what my time looked like today:

Woke up after a difficult sleep. At 7:30am, I heard people shouting blah blah something something over and over again, but I was too tired to remember to write down what it was. Friday night is apparently the night to go out, so there was plenty of action coming from a house party in the group of buildings I am in (I'm in "Bolivia"- they are all named after countries in Latin America).

I spent part of the morning putting books I'd purchased from the bookstore into Mendeley, a program that stores my bibliography. Then I spent time checking out UNAM's library. It turns out they have a rich set of doctoral theses to look at. Lo and behold, I found a few that related to my research topic. I probably did some other researchy type stuff after that.

I went to get a cup of coffee at a spot I seem to go to more than anywhere else. Although yesterday I did pass by a hipster coffee shop that would have made any "hole-in-the-wall" place in the U.S. seem... well... just like they are. I skipped it, since my little place does what I need at a fraction of the cost and without the pretension.

Today I went to the University Library (UNAM) to see what I could find and, if nothing else, drink my cup of coffee and have a place to study. Of course, you can't bring coffee into the library, so I drank it outside on the steps. It turns out I'd been walking by this particular library often.

They have two floors devoted to special collections and rare records, but not on Saturdays. They also only have an Internet connection if you are associated with the University. I'm not. I also keep forgetting that some bathrooms are well-equipped, and others are not.

I spent most of the time sniffling because maybe I have allergies. And maybe I divided my time between reading a book about the Mexican bourgeoisie, someone's thesis on foreign people's perspectives on Mexican food and culture in the 19th century, and writing an emotional personal statement for PhD programs. And maybe I didn't have anything to blow my nose with.

On my way home, I stopped at this place. I tried to get pozole, but they were out. Sad face. The better part of this meal was the consommé. Delicious.

It's now 11pm, and I've spent the last several hours bouncing back between figuring out how to better organize a newspaper search, looking for records in different libraries, reading books, and making sure that my last real day here (Monday) will be spent in useful pursuit.

Oh, I had a tamale oaxaqueño for breakfast that I'd bought in the market last night. I also ate one there. That is truly amazing. I should have gotten more, but I will.

I forgot to mention what my research is. It is right now looking like it's about class and the way people talk about food and their households shows it. During the Porfiriato (presidency of Porfírio Díaz). It's sort of an interesting time in Mexican history. Lots of economic growth, foreign investment, developments in infrastructure, coupled with rising inequality. Additionally, Díaz was into the French, so it's often been a period dubbed with the term, "afrancesamiento" (the Frenchening).

Here's an example from the Hemeroteca Nacional I found today of a magazine called Albúm de Damas. It's like a Better Homes and Gardens and a less sleazy version of People.

Next up, touching really old books with your bare hands.

Excited and overwhelmed

For those of us who have trouble maintaining perspective about what is "normal," I try to look around and see how others are reacting.

For example, if I were to moan about how my thesis is out of order, how I feel as though I'm drowning in indecision and lack of solid progress, it would elicit nothing but knowing smirks and perhaps a chuckle or two from anyone who has been there. When I see that smirk, I know I must be on the right track. It is when a similar furrowed brow or even an outright frown appears that I begin to get worried.

You can try it - next time you are on an airplane and you are absolutely sure the next bump is going to knock you out of the sky, keep your eye on the flight crew. Are they nervous? When they get nervous, perhaps it's time for you to get nervous. Though, you're on a plane - there aren't that many options. Sit back and enjoy it! (Okay, unless you were on this Jet Blue flight).

Still, one can't help letting one's emotions get the better of him. The other day, I decided to leave the house wearing shorts. Yes, I know that "only" tourists wear shorts, but for somer reason I thought I did see people wearing shorts while walking around the crowded market path on the way to UNAM (Universidad Autónoma de México). I was sorely mistaken, it turns out. Two of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of people I saw were wearing shorts, and both of them were doing exercise. I already stick out pretty good, so I did a little mild obsessing about it on my long walk, then cab ride (I gave up after an hour) to the Hemeroteca Nacional (the newspaper archive).

Here is some of what my walk looked like. I didn't want to take pictures where there were too many people, as some people might think it was creepy. And, I didn't see anyone else taking out cameras taking pictures. When in doubt, do what others do. This is how I know when to worry on planes. This is how I cross busy streets here - I wait to go next to someone else.

Beautiful, right? That's what I thought. I saw people jogging, riding bikes, listening to music, dozing under umbrellas, playing life-size chess, and having a good time.

Next entry: Research...

A few pictures and brief comments

A welcome sight after dozing in airports and on an airplane for multiple hours.

Rule #1: Never explain anything unless you are asked by customs. Rule #2: Keep it brief. The answer to the question "Do you have a computer in here?" Should be followed by "yes" or "no." Definitely do not repeat the question like you don't know what they are asking. My long-winded and nervous explanation for why I had two laptops instead of the permitted one was entirely unnecessary. She smiled and said, "Oh I see. Okay." Then she turned her head and yelled to the next table, "Bag!" That prompted the black-glove treatment. Unlike when I had this happen once elsewhere, they put my meticulously-packed items back where they were and kindly zipped my bags back up.

Believe it or not, I didn't tell them how to spell my name, and I didn't say it more than once. I couldn't believe it. Maybe I'll stop saying "Bill" when they ask me what my name is back home. I really wanted to have something besides Starbucks, but they were right there. It is incredible how streamlined their customer service is. When I asked for a machiatto, I went through exactly the same long process I go through at Starbucks in the U.S. "Oh, you don't want that much milk? That's a 'short' machiatto." Or something. Whatever I got it turned out fine and woke me up enough to survive through two failed Uber attempts and a taxi to get to where I'm staying.

This was a surprisingly delicious tortilla soup I ate at Wings in the DF airport. It has chicharrones in it. It also had a number of chilies in it, which I also enjoyed.

Checking the weather the evening I arrived. Bringing a raincoat might have been a smart idea. So far, it just looks cloudy outside.

This looks like a cool place to go see. Maybe a good place for a quick run around in circles?

Okay. This was a welcome diversion from freaking out about how much work I have to do. The 12 leftover things on my list from this summer will get done today, and tomorrow I take a walk over to the Hemeroteca Nacional, where there is a huge newspaper archive. Then I can begin freaking out about how much work I haven't done and still need to do to make a thesis happen.

Happy 40th Birthday!

People always ask me if I'm excited when I travel. It usually happens when I'm almost to my destination or already there. Until then, there is usually a lot to do. Packing and tying up loose ends is what takes up most of the time.

This time, the loose ends bled into my travel. Tomorrow, I'll turn forty years old. Birthday plans so far? Go for a run, find a café and do work, and take myself to a good meal. Finally, I'll want to catch up on the sleep I missed as a part of the Delta Airlines network outage.

But, in case you were wondering, about 55 minutes before landing I thought about how I would tell Isadora that Bowling Green is pretty much at sea level. Mexico City, however, is at over 7,000 feet. Drinking a coffee and doing leftover work at that altitude got me excited. The fears of a new city in an unfamiliar place started to dissipate as I thought about how I would do some exploring of what's there. And if you know me, you know that means looking for tasty food.

Really, if you think about it, if you're 37,000 feet up, you might only be 30,000 feet up if you are flying over Mexico City. And if you are 37,000 feet relative to the ground, how high are you in relation to where you would be flying over Bowling Green? An interesting question that is probably rather critical to pilots.

An interesting day to begin

My careful preparation to arrange a flight to Mexico City with a company well known for its reliability may have been for naught. I arrived at San Francisco Airport at midnight after my very first Uber ride ($15 to the airport - I am a believer!). Having purchased a cheap foam mat and a $4 pillow from Walmart, I was ready for a four-hour nap nearby the Delta Airlines counter. Nestling into my spot, I fell right asleep. Shortly after 2am I awoke to my phone giving me a notification from my BBC News app. "All Delta flights grounded after nationwide system outage."

So much for avoiding the lines. It is quiet at 3:17am, but the Delta Airlines travelers are already anxiously taking positions. It could be a busy day!