But I hate volcanoes. And when I say that I hate volcanoes, I really, really mean it. I don't think it's a full-fledged phobia, but it's certainly in the neighborhood. They bring out in me a deep-seated disgust and loathing, sometimes to the point where I feel like I could either a) vomit or b) cry, sometimes at the same time (but I've only ever cried-- and that was only once, when we actually saw live lava in Costa Rica. Eww-- the memory is enough to make me cringe).
Of course, on Thursday, for my Legends and Myths class, we learned about the two nearby volcanoes, which was rough enough to get through. They have all these pretty legends that are similar, about a pair of lovers who eventually turn into volcanoes. A princess who has died, the dormant Iztaccihuatl, and her warrior amor who determines to forever stand by her side. Of course, this means that Popocatepetl still harbors feelings and sadness for her, which is why he still smokes frequently and sometimes erupts.
Like yesterday. (Photo may not actually be from yesterday, but you get the point.)
Ew.
I mean, it was just an ash cloud. Nothing too serious. But still. I just KNOW it's because I am here and hate volcanoes. Stupid Popocatepetl is playing games with me. I HATE IT. And it's such a shame, because the legends about them would be very lovely if it weren't for the fact that they are volcanoes.
For the most part, I can forget about them (clouds often obstruct them from view-- which is the way I like it). I would like to say that being this close helped me get over my volcano phobia thing, but that hasn't happened yet. Even though I feel like clenching my fists and growling whenever they're mentioned, at least I can put up living so close. I just hope that stupid Popocatepetl shuts up for the rest of my stay here, so I can just forget about him and his dead volcano girlfriend and continue enjoying my time.
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