Dateline: An EnCRYPTed Part of the City
I am a vampire. I’m sure this is something you never suspected, and of course, I’ve never given you any reason to be suspicious either. Because I’m really good at passing. But I can’t take living a lie any more, and Mexico City has proven surprisingly supportive of my true nature. I’ve decided that it’s time to come out of the casket and live my life openly as the blood-sucking immortal that I really am.
Well, ok, I exaggerate. I’m really only half-vampire. You see, my father is a vampire, while my mother is mortal. So as I’m fond of telling my Mexican friends, I can take the sunlight, but not very much. When I’m out and about in Mexico City, I wear sunblock and a wide-brimmed hat, and I cling to the shadows. In fact, I always cross the street to get to the shadowy side, even if that means I have to cross back again to get to where I’m going. I seldom go out at high noon, and I try to avoid the sun as much as possible. When I go out to exercise, I jog wearing a wide-brimmed hat and dark sunglasses. It’s a bit of an odd sight, but it beats being reduced to a pile of ash on the sidewalk.
There are other challenges, too. This is a very catholic country, and there’s a church seemingly on every other block, festooned with crosses. I’m usually ok if I don’t touch them, but I have to confess they give me heartburn whenever I walk by. People think I’m crossing myself, but I’m really just gagging. It’s better if I’m wearing sunglasses, but being only half-vampire, I can look at them from a distance, though my vampire friends warn me about getting too close.
The real problem here is all the crucifixes people wear. And I’m not just referring to the availability of fresh blood. It’s ok when you can see the crucifix and steer clear. But lots of times people wear them under their clothes. And that’s where the trouble starts. Last Thursday I decided to go to the Centro Histórico at rush hour. Bad idea. The metro was mobbed. And wouldn’t you know it? I ended up in a car, pressed up against someone whom I can only assume was wearing a crucifix under his shirt. The burning sensation was excruciating. I kept trying to pull away, but I could only get little breathers before the person pressed up against me again. I nearly fainted. Fortunately I got off the train before things got really ugly, but I’ve still got a nasty burn mark on my left arm. Remind me to just turn into a bat and fly next time.
Crosses and crucifixes aren’t the only problem, at least for a half-vampire. Since I’m not a full vampire, I don’t strictly need to drink the blood of mortals, though it’s refreshing when I do. But I try to keep it to a minimum. Peer pressure from hanging out mostly with humans? Who knows? Mainly I survive on regular human food. When in restaurants ordering meat, that’s when my true nature starts to really show, especially here. In the USA, you can order a rare steak, and no one blinks an eye. Here in Mexico, nearly everyone cooks meat really well done. So I spend a lot of time explaining to waiters that I want my meat rare, just seared, nearly raw. I usually explain this in great detail, in a slightly fanatic tone of voice, saying I’d like the center to be a bit bloody. Then I repeat my order and instructions, with my best vampire smile, revealing just enough fang to show that I really mean it.
Usually I’m met with incredulous stares. Most waiters simply refuse to believe me. Rare meat! Say it isn’t so! Not possible! Just bring him the usual! But when I send overdone meat back to the kitchen, they start to suspect that maybe there is something more than a little odd about this deathly pale foreigner with his sharp teeth and a taste for something just a little bloody.
As for my Mexican friends, they’re totally cool, and make the drawbacks worth it. They’ve seen my fangs, noticed my habits of avoiding the sun, and politely overlook my bloody steaks. Due to my ambiguous accent, many guess that I’m from Eastern Europe anyway. And of course when I talk fondly of Transylvania, you can see the light bulbs going off in their heads. Fortunately, they have all been very accepting. Indeed it’s become something of a running joke with Luis, my new flame. He’s very vampire-positive, and I love that about him.
Where I live is the perfect place for a vampire. Well, except for the lack of a moat and towers, which might draw unwanted attention. The house is pretty old. But more importantly, the maintenance is a little, uh, “Transylvanian.” So the doors creak VERY mysteriously when opened. And when visitors come (never to leave), I have to go downstairs, cross the patio, and open an enormous, old, creaky front door to the street. The last time Luis came to visit, I didn’t hold back. I descended, unlatched the lock, stood invisibly behind the door and let it swing slowly open with a long, drawn-out creak. As he entered, I leapt out of the shadows, grabbed him, and kissed his neck.
He greeted me with laughter and a big smile. He knows I won’t eat him (though I occasionally do nibble) and he’s one of the biggest supporters of my “vampire-ness.” He’s also a big part of the reason I feel I can come out in the open now. Heck, everyone here has been very supportive. Most of my friends know, and they’re all incredibly cool. I could never do this at home; Boston has much less tolerance for the undead or semi-undead. Here? There’s much more of a “live-and-let-live-forever” attitude. As a foreigner in Mexico, you really get an amazing amount of freedom and leeway, no matter how eccentric you are. It’s a perfect place for a half-breed vampire who can survive the light of day.
I might just stay here for eternity.
Alfredo Lanier said:
Hello Kim G.: Just left you a message at your email address, the one with the “Y”
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Robert Gill said:
I suspect the concern is more about parasites in the flesh rather than microbes.
In the 1920’s my father worked in a slaughter house, as a result, every thing was cooked well done.
In the cuisine of some the parts of Mexico, meat is considered a condiment rather than a main course. It is to taste, not get full on.
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Kim G said:
Hola Robert! I guess I’m just living dangerously. I have no illusions that food safety is probably worse in Mexico than in the USA, where it’s well worse than it should be. But so far, so good. And I’d be surprised about parasites, but of course, anything could happen. Thanks for stopping by. Saludos!
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ARION STONE said:
Mmmmm, love that bloody meat. Love it here in the US. In Europe. Maybe in Argentina. Surely Japan. But in Mexico? I’ll take it the way they cook it. I think there’s a REASON nobody in Mexico even imagines that some one would be crazy enough to eat meat at a temperature below that needed to kill all of the other animals that might inhabit it.
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Kim G said:
Hola Arion! I’ve not had any problems with rare meat. Well, no problems other than having it show up on my plate rare. The fact of the matter is that whatever bacteria is there is on the outside. Ground meat, of course, is the common exception to that. But I don’t recall the last time I had a hamburger in CDMX, so I don’t worry about it. Saludos and thanks for stopping by!
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ladyofthecakes said:
In Spain, they seem to have a knack for undercooking burgers. Man, that is like playing Russian roulette! Rare steak is fine, like you said, as long as it’s cooked on the outside.
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Kim G said:
Hola Simone! Indeed, ground beef is something of a public health menace. Not to mention the fact that it’s WAAAAAAYYY better if you buy bits of beef and grind it yourself right before cooking. Saludos and thanks for your comment!
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Theresa Diaz Gray said:
What’s one more peculiarity in a foreigner? I love the fact that all my little quirks and foibles get chalked up to my being a foreigner instead of the fact that I am just weird. Umm, I mean eccentric.
regards,
Theresa
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Kim G said:
Hola Theresa! Indeed, it’s such a luxury being a foreigner here, isn’t it? We get away with so much, and as you correctly note, it’s not “weird,” it’s just “being a foreigner.” Saludos and thanks for stopping by — your fellow “eccentric.”
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William said:
Oh my goodness! All that time that we spent together in Mexico. and I never once suspected! So what effect does the use of garlic in Mexican cooking have on you???
Saludos,
Bill
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Kim G said:
Hola Bill! Being only half-vampire is a big help in the garlic department. I can take it, more or less. Depends on the phase of the moon. Saludos and thanks for flying by!
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Lee Steele said:
So, you’re part of the LGBV community! And V ain’t for vegan, I can see!
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Kim G said:
Hola Lee! Yes. Fortunately, I don’t need special bathrooms, though, haha. Saludos and thanks for stopping by!
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Carlos said:
Aw shucks. You probably won’t like me. I eat a lot of garlic.
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Kim G said:
That bites the big one. Really. So sorry to hear that. Saludos and thanks for stopping by!
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colm54 said:
Kim, just order a steak Diane! Just don’t make the mistake we did while on honeymoon and send it back to get it eh…well done..
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Kim G said:
Hola Colm! I’m not sure I’ve ever been offered a steak Diane here, though I’d order it if I could get it. Yummy! Saludos and thanks for stopping by!
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