Last night the moon was full. Yesterday was one of those days. You know how strange circumstances come about: people are acting out, technology does what it wants to do, and you more or less spend your day saying “what is going on, why is this happening today?” Well, that was yesterday for me. I was two days away from my first month in Morelia. I’ll admit I was becoming a little prideful about my stay so far. Everything has happened in a flow state. I’ve had barely any mishaps. My days have been light and bright. Well, every dog has its day, as they say. The day started pretty routinely. My friend is visiting me from the States. We woke up and took Quality for her morning walk. While out on the walk, I noticed Quality’s mood was a little honery. She pulled every which way, following her nose instead of my direction. The walk became chaotic, so I decided to break it and pick up morning treats. Our first stop was the corner bakery where I normally pick up fresh-baked bread, pastries, and one sugar donut. That one donut matters because I historically don’t have that kind of restraint in the States. However, today there were no sugar donuts. Womp. From there we stopped by the carniceria I frequent based on the housekeeper’s suggestion. I’ve found a person there I trust. Hector makes it comfortable for me to request my goods in broken Spanish. He’s patient enough to speak Spanish slowly enough for me to understand. I can buy eggs individually here, so we bought six. We headed back to the apartment to eat our small breakfast before going to the expat brunch meetup. Except, we never actually made it to brunch. The clock got away from us faster than we anticipated. We sipped coffee with our bakery treats, chatted, and eventually showered, only to realize we were already 40 minutes into the brunch. The plan changed. We would join the Thursday brunch. Instead, we decided to go straight to the mall. We’d walk around and make a slow day of it. We packed up our purses, pulled out our combi change, and headed out to start the exploration. We arrived at Plaza Altozano and started at Wingstop for lunch. Thanks for reading Xenn Adrift! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Quick sidenote- if you follow my social media, you know two weeks ago I had a fierce late-night craving for Wingstop. At home, I would have succumbed to the convenience of my food delivery app. Here, it wasn’t feasible, so I drank water and went to bed only to dream of eating Wingstop. I could taste the Louisiana and Hot Honey rub flavors dipped in creamy blue cheese dressing in my sleep. It’s wild to realize just how much power food has over us. Imagine my delight when I discovered this location while scoping out the mall online. Let me tell you, the Wingstops in Houston have nothing on this one. There is a full menu of items I’ve never seen before. They offered salads, wraps, and a multitude of sides. There was a full bar. There’s a large indoor seating area inside and a full terrace as well. The chicken pieces are smaller than I’m used to at home. The grease didn’t rip through my stomach as it does back home. Basically, I had a guilt- and stomach-ache-free experience at my first Mexican Wingstop. I will not make a habit of it tho. I’ll do my best. We finished our meal, browsed a few clothing stores, and stopped at the new-to-me grocery store I’d been wanting to visit. The mall was practically empty. The vibe was the complete opposite of the pace and number of people in Centro and my neighborhood. It gave room for light-hearted strolling; the ability to take up space. We picked up a few little treats from the grocery store, which reminded me so much of Waikiki Market. I picked up lint rollers from the multi store (imagine Big Lots or a larger version of a dollar store). I took out my favorite carry-along shopping bag- it’s a keychain that looks like a ladybug when the bag is folded in. Unzip the ladybug, and now you have a little shopping tote. I purchased it from a natural grocery store in Denver. I was glad I brought it to Mexico once I realized they don’t offer you shopping bags. Two days before, I decided to add my keys to that since I take the ladybug everywhere I go anyway. As we walked back to the combi stop, my friend noticed the moon looked full. I made a mental note. That’s why Quality seemed off this morning, mmhmm. We hailed the combi and chatted like schoolgirls the entire trip back. I got carried away telling my friend about the bakery cafe we would visit the next day when she asked: “Is this our stop?” I spotted the Panoli through the slender window and yelled “oh yes, let’s go!", before jumping off the combi into the street. We called out “gracias” to the combi driver as it pulled away. A boutique caught my friend’s eye, and we bounced our way into it, admiring so many beautiful pieces. The tiny boutique had clothes galore. I found pieces I think my sons’ girlfriends might like. My friend was looking for a piece for an event she’ll be hosting soon. I was tired, so I took a seat on their dusty rose sette. My friend was in the changing room trying on a beautiful dress. I was making lunch plans for the next day via text. I remembered picking up the Haribo Twin Cherries (with the German flag, so you know it’s real) at the grocery store. I went to dig them out of the ladybug bag and to my horror, I realized I was no longer carrying it. Did I set it down in the front part of the store? I walked up there. No. I walked back to the pink sofa I was sitting on. Under the sofa? I bent down. No. Where did I…OMG…NOOOOOO…it’s on the combi! I left my bag on the combi!! We’d been in the boutique about 40 minutes. My friend was still in the changing room. I pulled my phone out and scrolled to the translation app. I frantically spoke into it. “I left my bag on the combi. How can I get it back? Can I get it back?” I played the translation for the ladies working in the boutique. The woman in charge told me in Spanish, “Go to the other side of the street. They make a circle. You might catch it when it comes back.” I yelled to my friend, “I left the bag! I’m going to see if I can find it!” I ran out of the store and across the street, waiting for the combi we jumped off of earlier to reappear. My friend came out nearly 10 minutes later. She stayed on the side we exited, just in case it had already made its round. Unfortunately, after maybe 40 minutes of waiting and checking combi drivers, I called it. I made a mental note of what we bought and realized there wasn’t anything really important in the bag. I bought one can of sweetened condensed milk. My friend bought one bottle of mineral water. We both bought candy. There were also a few items from the dollar store- probably $25 spent at most. Whew, no major losses— except, you know, losing the keys to my apartment. Ugh, now I would have to call my landlord and hope he is near the apartment to meet us. But of course it’s not a simple phone call. I have to type the words into the translator, copy the translation into WhatsApp, then call to ensure he sees the message. I locked myself on the balcony one night. I didn’t know it auto-locked. Another night I saw a couple of unusual characters walking around the apartment. Both times I texted him. It only took him 10 minutes to respond to me. He told me, " Call me anytime something happens so I don’t leave you waiting long.” I didn’t consider ten minutes long, but this time I didn’t want to take a chance of him missing the text, so I did my due diligence. “Hola! I’m sorry to bother you, but I left my bag on the combi. My key is in the bag. Nothing else important, but are you near to meet me, or can you meet me soon? We are by the Panoli.”, I typed into the translation app with the prompt Please translate to Spanish. Mind you, this is all happening along a major boulevard at peak traffic time. He responded immediately; I didn’t even get the chance to call. “What color combi and the number did you ride?” I told him which one. “We will call to the combi station to recover it and see if they will return it to you.” I reemphasized- I’m not concerned about the contents of the bag; only the keys are important.” He replied, “Don’t worry, we will call.” At that moment I stopped wondering. I told my friend, let’s go to the deli and grab food before we go back. I realized he never answered if he was still around or if he could meet us soon. I texted him again that we were nearby, just grabbing food and would be back soon. “Don’t worry, I am here.” Relief. On the walk home, the moon appeared brighter and more full. My friend said, “Oh, it is a full moon; I have to come out and take a picture tonight.” I thought to myself, “Of course it’s a full moon, and this is why I’m all turned around right now.” We arrived back at the apartment, and my landlord asked me a question in Spanish. The only word I could make out was keys. I paused to process his question, and came up with nothing. He repeated it slower. Still no clue what he asked. Then he said key shop in English. “Oh, para copia! Si, si yo sabo. Ellos abierto ahora?” He replied, “Sí, a las ocho.” It was 7:23. “Yo voy ahora.” I put Quality on the leash because she needed to walk anyway and rushed two streets over and up to the key shop. I could not find it. The storefronts don’t always have signs to know which is which. I walked to where I knew it to be, then retraced my steps back. “I know it’s this block.” An elderly man standing in a doorway asked me questions at a very rapid pace in Spanish. After a few times of him demanding a response, I exasperatedly said, “Donde? Ahh, buscando copia para llaves.” Now he was confused. I was confused. He walked into the storefront he was standing in front of and asked a group of men s
