So we had ourselves a wee little earthquake this week, but nothing to be too concerned about. In terms of bed-shaking ability, it ranked well below a Magic Fingers or a vigorous sneeze, and I doubt it would have awoken my roommate and me at all, had we not been sleeping poorly due to an ill-advised cactus-and-cilantro salad.
Ranking far higher on the Richter scale of our personal lives was the minor inundation that flooded our rooms the same evening. We'd left the door ajar for some desperately needed fresh air, but that (combined with a gutter overdue for cleaning) resulted in a massive puddle sweeping across our floor later in the afternoon. I threw three towels on top of it and watched them sink to the bottom of the creeping puddle. J, overwhelmed by salad-eater's remorse, crawled into her bed to "brainstorm" and I stared stupidly at the puddle until our host mother appeared, mop in hand, and heroically swept it out.
All in all, it was an adventurous day in Mexico. Note to self: Shut door during monsoon.