Guacamole. I thought it was a delicacy (you always have to request it here, so that's a delicacy, right?), but no, they eat this ludicrous shit on everything. And it's spicy.
I felt tall. Seriously.
Seedless watermelons with lime juice on them (Jesus God, that is good.)
On the plane ride down, I noticed an American Airlines magazine article entitled "When Bad Bosses Happen to Good People: Innocent Sufferers of Micromanagement." It didn't look interesting to read, so I didn't, but I felt severely micromanaged during the whole project. There's nothing like an 18 year old homeschool girl who thinks she has to assert that she does indeed know how to apply caulk into cracks better than you do.
An 18-year-old Mexican Beauty played with my heart...and played my guitar too. I showed her how to play "Stairway to Heaven"(kinda) and was worried that, well, does this have to do with illicit drugs? No, it's just poetic, right? Ehn...duh, dum, dumdu d..."there's a lady...if there's a bustle 'long your hedgerow its just a sprinkling for the vain queen," fuck. I dunno. She liked it.
Well, top five from Mexico is misleading. It's really five things that I tell people when asked about the trip.
The girl was not impressed with Stairway to Heaven, but I did teach her "Kiss Me" by that Christian-turned-mainstream band, and she played it ad nauseum.