I woke up in half-light to the howling of strange birds. Stiff. Confused. Jet-lagged.

Where am I? Mexico? Guadalajara. Zapopan. Monica’s house! In the nanny’s room. The wedding.

It's late. I slept in.

The blinds keep out the sun. There is a tiny courtyard outside of this tiny room which leads to the laundry and then the kitchen.

This grand house, built for a large family with a nanny, is full again for the wedding. The exchange student, the family, my wife, and me. My wife slept on the spare bed in the exchange student’s room. I slept here.

It's nearly noon and the sun beats straight down into the courtyard. Sunlight bounces off the white stucco, the red painted concrete, and under the blinds filling the room with dim, alien light and odd reflections on the louvered glass window. The birds continue.

It's time to move. I find the switch and an anemic bulb challenges the sun. I shower and dress. I gather my strength. How much Spanish do I remember? Less every day. If my wife isn't there can I ask for coffee? Do I hide here with the birds?