Gatorade

I know there are many, many people out there that have been checking and checking my blog ... just hoping to read more about the events in the Shaker Shack. Well, let me tell you there are some amazing stories to be told. Last Wednesday (6-20-07), Gary left for Mexico to bring Victor home to his family to be buried next to his father. It was full of experiences that I hope I will never have to discover, but am so glad that Gary was able to. I'm going to be posting pictures of the adventure, but for now, I'll give you just a preview of what took place. First of all, we learned that Victor's family lived in a very poor, very scary place called Neza that was actually the dump of Mexico City run by gangs. Luckily, Victor's brothers (garbage truck drivers ... that were actually horses pulling garbage bins) were one gang, and Victor's in-laws (Federali's) were another. Gary was protected every time he stepped foot outside of their humble home (which was actually a garage). Secondly, we learned that it was tradition to place the body in the home for a couple of days before burying it, so that the family could properly mourn. So, as soon as the casket arrived at the home, there was much weeping, wailing, screaming, crying and literal passing out (the mother). In this small home, there were at least 50 people standing around mourning during all hours of the day and night.

Unfortunately, the "bathroom" was just a few feet from the casket. The "bathroom" consisted of a small area for the toilet with no lid, no flushing of toilet paper (just a garbage can next to the toilet filled with dirty, stinky, T.P.) and ... only half of a door. The door had rusted off at the bottom and at the top, there was only a strip in the middle. So while 50 of Victor's relatives were crowded near the casket, Gary had to go to the bathroom, and he couldn't bring himself to do it in front of his newfound Mexican gang.

Luckily! Gary's buddy, Mike Ferrin, who accompanied him on the adventure, had just finished off a bottle of Gatorade! Mike left the room, Gary seized the opportunity and figured out how to relieve himself without bothering the mourners. This became the routine that would save the Americans from utter loss of dignity throughout the week. So the first lesson learned ... always bring an extra bottle of Gatorade to replenish those electrolytes, and later to collect them!