It’s just milk

Mums and very pregnant women, that’s what I found at gymnastics, a market I’ll never be willing to approach. Didi started crying, finally I noticed the puke on my black shirt, looked at Ana for some support.

It’s just milk – she said quite harshly – It’ll come off eventually.

Eventually? Like when she graduates from college? Didi got louder. I kept these thoughts to myself, saying them out loud would have only brought terrible consequences to humankind. Ana looked for something inside her purse; she pulled out a dummy and placed it in Didi’s mouth. Didi stopped crying. Ana took Luca and ran into the building. I put Didi in the stroller and followed Ana’s trail.

Pause. Let me tell you something about dummies, they are awesome! This little thing with a plastic bubble (apparently resembling a mother’s nipple) which comes in different colours and designs is just the most amazing invention of the millennium. Apparently you put this plastic bubble (which resembles the mother’s nipple, in case you forgot about it) in the baby’s mouth and they just suck from it like breastfeeding but not really. And for no apparent reason the baby falls asleep, stays quiet, calms down, stops screaming. This dummy device is the best thing that ever happened to me while taking care of these cute creatures. Every single man should have one of these things hanging from his key chain. True story.

So, I managed to get the stroller inside the YMCA building, took the elevator to the second floor where the gymnastics class was held. Ana was already there in a circle with other 12 mums with their kids. It looked like some sort of an ancient ritual. A ritual that only mothers know about and they don’t tell anyone else about it. I entered the huge indoor basketball court with my precious niece. Ana looked at me from Salem’s witch round like saying “just sit down on one of the seats by the side of the court and take care of my baby, meanwhile just worry about nodding and smiling when other mums look at you”. Oh she is awesome at telepathic conversations. So, I did the only thing I know how to do the best: just do as you are told and you’ll be fine.

On my way to that seat, pushing this stroller with this little baby half asleep in it I could feel the stares of these women, these mothers, these (most of them) very pregnant mothers. Some of the kids glanced at me like if I’ve just entered the wrong room. Even the gymnastics trainer seemed disturbed by my presence there. To be honest I never looked into that direction on my way to the seats, however, I’m sure that’s pretty much how it happened. I approached to this set of seats in order to sit down, just the way my friend told me to do so.

Put Didi in my arms, sat down and suddenly I realized that definitely this was completely different to my life back in Mexico. Didi puked a little bit more “milk” on my black shirt. Oh, did I mention the gymnastics trainer was kind of cute? At least she wasn’t very pregnant or married. However, she never looked at me nor spoke to me ever. Ana’s response 4 weeks later: “She thought you were someone’s husband”.  

The Gym

Really people, 50 km/hr? It’s like you drive slowly so you don’t catch up with the rest of the world. I was recently invited to an 80’s theme party. I thought for a while where to get a proper outfit from the 80’s, and then I realized I just need to go to any store in Auckland and,... sorry but true story!

Anyway, where was I? Oh right, so I woke up in New Zealand. Believe it or not, babies are loud. So I arrived on a Friday and I tried to recover from that long flight over the Pacific Ocean during that weekend. On the first night Didi cried and cried and cried and cried and cried... and then she breathed just to cry a little more. On Sunday, while having dinner, Laurence, Ana’s husband, was telling me about how lucky I was by being single in New Zealand. Yes, apparently there are more women here than men, amazing fact number 231 of kiwiland.

- Oh, Luis, tomorrow I’m going to take you to the kids’ gym – Ana said quite excited – lots of women go there, you’ll see.
- Gymnastics? – I replied meanwhile Luca’s eating habits were really distracting me (he was just throwing his food on the floor and spilling water on the glass table) - Your kid goes to the gym?
- Of course, we go every Monday – Said Ana not really minding Luca’s surreal food art on the table.
- Yes Luis, that’s a fantastic idea - concurred Laurence.
Uhhhhh... lots of women! Sounded really weird that they get together at this gym on a Monday morning, but, hey, new country new rules right?

Anyway, one thing was for sure, I wasn’t really interested on going out with anyone or even flirting with any girl at that moment. I still had feelings for this girl who I was dating back in Mexico. Hey, I had to say it, true story, I know she reads this. However, just wondering and looking around wouldn’t hurt anyone right?

Monday 6 am, baby girl crying, someone walking to the kitchen to get something from the fridge, little boy watching cartoons on the telly, someone showering, and me, me in this tiny room just laying there asking myself “why Luis, why?”.

Finally the noises ceased, I went back to sleep for one more hour. At 10 am Ana woke me up and told me were on a mission that day.
- We are going to gymnastics today – Ana said while changing Luca into a much sportier outfit - Many of the girls from the coffee group go there as well.
- Coffee group? – I thought coffee group was a coffee tasting club or something.
- You’ll find out eventually, just get ready and please hold Didi while I dress Luca – she put Didi in my arms and went with Luca, who was much focused on this kids morning show rather to his mom’s demands to put some tinny jeans and t-shirt on.

So there I was, with a baby on my arms, wearing only my pyjamas (must thank my mom for this amazing pyjamas, so comfy and warm, deep blue shirt and square trousers, sometimes I even go to the supermarket wearing only this... kidding Mom!) wondering how much time would I have left to brush my teeth. Apparently Ana was reading my thoughts while I was holding her newborn.

Luis, you’d better get off your pyjamas, brush your teeth and wear something comfortable – she said this while Luca was looking at me with this “please do as told” look in his eyes.

Yes, yes, are we late? – Dumb question, never ask a mom if she is running late, they are always late, and if you complain about it they will give you the most amazing comeback in human history “Try being on time with two kids”. Oh it was hard to find some clothes in my 20 kilos full of my only belongings bag.

Ana looked at me with this response in her eyes, so, we were late. Quickly, I put Didi back into her mom’s arms and rush into the bathroom, got changed, brushed my teeth and splash some water on my face. “The fastest Mexican ever” I thought while Ana yelled (more like a roar) from the front door “Hurry we are late!”

She drove and drove and drove (at the incredible speed of 50 km/hr) until we got to this nice building by a park. We got off the car, Ana took Luca straight into the YMCA and I had to put the stroller in proper position in order to place Didi there. You have no idea how complicated a stroller is for someone with no experience whatsoever in kids or babies. Five minutes later Didi was in the stroller’s seat, with her seat belts on and her dummy in her mouth. We were ready to rumble at gymnastics. Finally I entered the gym, in fact there were lots of women, Ana and Laurence were right.
- Wait a second... they are all mums or very pregnant mums Ana – Said sadly and somehow disappointed.
- What were you expecting? – Ana answered totally unaware of my sadness and disappointment.

Didi puked some milk on my black shirt, I didn’t mind. Gymnastics is hell.

Jetlagged

Exhausted, I placed my two backpacks on the floor and held that little creature covered in yogurt named Luca in my arms, he totally cleaned his hand on my shirt. I was too tired to notice that. A funny smell was coming from Luca’s behind, still too tired to notice. I turned down the volume of the telly. Then I turned to Ana and hugged her, my dear friend, she was covered on baby vomit, I was too tired to notice either.

Well you did it – Ana said, totally unimpressed – you are back in New Zealand. Luca, who is that man? – asked the boy who was sort of licking dried yogurt from his right hand.

Uiiiiiis – he said, well, at least he pronounces my name better than the New Zealand migration officer.

There’s no way to express how I felt when he said my name (or at least the vowels in it). Uncle Luis finally arrived to Kiwiland.

My first days in this country were for some reason confusing, frustrating and at the same time relaxing and motivating. Before coming here, everything was sort of arranged, solved and predictable. Suddenly I was unemployed, alone and clueless about how things work in this place. My first night was horrible, I had nightmares, and a constant crying was drilling in my brain for some reason. It was not a nightmare, it was Didi, this 5 months old baby who was awake at 4 in the morning.

Suddenly I found myself wondering if I’ve made the right decision. The crying kept on going, I turned to one side of this tiny bed, tried to rearrange the pillow (not really a pillow, more like a decorative small pillow) in order to feel more comfortable, didn’t work. Oh god, did I struggle to sleep on that bed for almost 20 days. This was actually not a real bed, more like the base of a mattress. Yet, I wasn’t aware that my corporate, suited up, expensive restaurant days were officially over. They were so over, no more going out to expensive clubs, dinning at nice restaurants, driving my own French car or watching cable TV in my room. No more Mexican food (you people not from Mexico have no idea what you are missing out), no more of solving things out on my own language, no more good tequila. It was later on when one morning, after I moved out from Ana’s place, that I woke up and assimilated that I was living in a windowless room in a garage in a house with other 5 people. I shouldn’t rush; let’s just go day by day.

Oh, I almost forgot, this is crucial: the most important thing you need to remember about being the uncle of these two beautiful little people is that Luca and Didi look very Caucasian, just like Laurence. Also remember that Laurence works full time from Monday to Friday. Therefore Ana and I hang out with the kids pretty much the whole time, and Ana and I don’t look very “white”.  

On February the 22^nd I woke up in the wrong hemisphere, with people driving in the wrong side of the road; talking about rugby and the All Blacks; and having hot savoury pies as their major snack. This Mexican needed to get used to the long Maori names given to streets and the annoyingly slow speed limits they have here (really guys 50 km/hr, why?). Oh no, I wasn’t in Kansas anymore (cultural reference to the Wizard of Oz, in case you were wondering).