I am alive.

There was a massive mudslide here today. Central Oaxaca and I are fine, but Mexico just can't seem to catch a break these days.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/29/world/americas/29mexico.html?_r=2&hp


Today at lunch my abuelito Manuel told me he's not yet convinced that the Maya were wrong about 2012, and I'm starting to agree with him...

El Bicentenario!

And the saga of my trip to el DF and Puebla continues....

Maguey plant, where tequila comes from!

On the morning of the 15th we packed up and left the Casa de los Amigos and headed to Teotihuacan, an archaeological site not that far from the other side of the city. Before checking out the pyramids, we met up with our guides at a workshop that produces many kinds of artisania as well as tequila and mezcal, a liquor similar to tequila that is special to Mexico. We watched as the artisans sculpted figures out of obsidian, and learned all about the many uses of the maguey plant, which include everything from weaving and paper-making to the production of the aforementioned drinks. At the end of our maguey charla, we found a table with shots of their most special tequilas and mezcals waiting for us. Not wanting to seem rude, we of course accepted the offer (including the 9-year-old daughters of our director Monica). The mezcal was amazing! It is distilled with almonds and honey, and that is exactly what it tastes like (Cathy - I picked you up a bottle. As if you weren't excited enough to see me already, now you definitely should be).

It was then time to explore Teotihuacan. The history nerd in me? Loving it. The site is huge, and has two giant pyramids (dedicated to the sun and the moon), countless other smaller structures, an Avenue of the Dead, and the remains of several murals. The city is a little more than two thousand years old, and has been inhabited by many different groups of people over the course of its existence. At its zenith, it was quite probably the largest city in the world, showing up European cities like London by several thousand inhabitants. We climbed both of the step pyramids (constructed in traditional mesoamerican talud-tablero style - thanks, art history class) and enjoyed stunning views of the entire valley from the top. The sun was unforgiving up there, but in the end the burns were well worth the experience.

We are the Mexican flag!

After Teotihuacan we headed to Puebla, where we had one last globalization lecture at the uni before being set free to celebrate the Bicentenario! Despite the buckets of rain that were dumping down around us, we were all super excited for the celebrations that night. Hundred-year anniversaries only roll around every so often, and since I missed the US bicentennial by a good 14 years, I was stoked to experience the 200th anniversary of Mexico's independence. It is all we had been hearing about since we first arrived - there are even countdown clocks on every major street in all the cities here that have been counting down the date to the minute for the past year! In our talks with Witness for Peace, there was a lot of disaccord on whether grand celebrations were appropriate, considering all the problems Mexico is facing right now. I agree that the amount of money that was put into preparations for the bicentenario definitely could have been applied to much more pressing causes, but at the same time, I also feel that the unity and pride I've seen throughout the country is a good thing. It's not a distraction, exactly, but a source of hopefulness and solidarity in the face of everything else that's going on right now. So with that in mind, I went out ready to celebrate with Brad, Bri, Becca and Jen. We headed to the Zócalo, and it was madness! Not uncomfortable-no-personal-space madness like in the Zócalo in DF, everyone was just in complete celebration mode! There were lights and streamers on every tree and every building in sight, and everywhere people were decked out either in their green, white, and red gear or in costumes of revolutionary figures - my personal favorite costume piece was the Miguel Hidalgo wigs, kind of a bald/long white mullet combination. We wandered around for a while until the fireworks, which were breathtaking, and only to be rivaled by the fireworks display I watched at the close of the Salt Lake Olympics. The cathedral bells were ringing, everyone was cheering, it was wonderfully overwhelming. Next up was the Grito de Dolores, or the reenactment of the battle cry given by Miguel Hidalgo that began the fight for independence in 1810; we watched a live reenactment in the Zócalo, followed by the televised version done by Felipe Calderón in the capital. The rest of the night was filled with live music and A LOT of dancing in the streets. All in all, it was one of the most exciting nights I have in memory, and I'm so glad I was here to experience it.

Pyramids of the Moon and Sun

Heading down the Pyramid of the Sun

El Distrito Federal, aka where I was peed on by a stranger.

This is what I had to say about Mexico City before the flood took precedent:

True to my nature, I have procrastinated writing about my week in the DF, despite the luxuriously long four day weekend I've had since returning. I guess in part it's because I'm still trying to process everything. It was an intense week, full of lots of learning, thinking, exploring, and more learning and thinking. I guess it'll be easiest to start at the beginning:

Friday morning after finishing up the last session of intensivo (YES!) the group went straight from the ICO to a six and a half hour bus ride to Mexico City. The ride was not that bad, actually - plenty of talking time, and it was neat to see so much of the landscape outside of Oaxaca. Southern Mexico is one of the most beautiful places I've been; everything is super green, and there are plenty of mountains to keep me from missing Utah too much. Anyways, once in DF, we headed to the Quaker-run hostel we were to call home for the next several days, Casa de los Amigos. The Casa is a great place. The people there were super friendly, the beds were super soft, and the food was delicious. I have to say, la comida norte americana that they offered was a nice change of pace from the steady supply of tortillas I've had for the past month. I was excited to find that there was a library across the hall from my room, and was elated to learn that it actually used to be the studio of the Mexican painter José Clemente Orozco. Sadly, there wasn't much left in the house indicating his presence, but it was cool knowing that I was living in his workspace for a few days. Bri and I also discovered a semi-secret staircase leading to the roof, which came in handy when we were awoken later that night by the loudest display of fireworks I have ever experienced, accompanied by some unnaturally loud opera music coming from the building behind us. I still don't understand what was going on, but the roof served as perfect front-row seating to the show!

The next day brought the beginning of our studies with Witness for Peace. The group is a non-political, non-profit organization committed to bringing peace and justice to the Americas, in large part through spreading knowledge of how past and present policies have affected human rights. They scheduled several charlas for us throughout the week, covering an array of topics from the effects of globalization and neo-liberalism on the Mexican economy, to sustainable agricultural practices, to human rights conditions here. It was a lot of information to take in, so thankfully we also had a number of processing sessions during which we synthesized, clarified, and reflected on what we learned. I am very grateful for our opportunities to learn so much here. Like I said earlier, I think it is important to understand the past and current social context of a place you are visiting in order to better comprehend your experiences, and our work with Witness for Peace helped me do just that. While there is still a lot that I'm sorting through and trying to understand (and even more about which I haven't even begun to learn!), I'm starting to feel like I have a more solid grasp of what's going on in the country. Every night I watch the news here, and while before I knew what was happening here, now I am beginning to understand why some things are the way they are. I'm also starting to figure out how I feel about being a US visitor in Mexico, and what my role can be in relating to the country both here and when I return home. But more on that later.

Palacio de Bellas Artes

WFP scheduled our trip pretty exhaustively, so unfortunately we were not left with a lot of free time to explore the city. I was most excited to check out the art scene, since Mexico City is a huge center for the arts, and home to a lot of big names like Kahlo, Rivera, Orozco, and Siqueiros, to name a few. Unfortunately, our sparse free time didn't leave much opportunity to see everything I wanted to, and there were several additional road blocks impeding my quest. Art failure #1: Our first afternoon, the group was supposed to check out the Palacio Nacional in the city's center, which houses some awesome murals by Rivera, but the building was closed due to preparations for the Bicentenario celebrations. Art failure #2: Later that evening, we were left with a few hours to explore the downtown area, so Bri and I decided to head to the Palacio de Bellas Artes. It is a stunning neoclassical/art nouveau building that houses works of all the aforementioned artists, but we were only able to admire the exterior as it closed ten minutes before we found it. Art failure #3: We had the next morning free as well, and I REALLY wanted to go visit Frida Kahlo's house, just two short subway rides away. Unfortunately, I was outnumbered 10:1 as the rest of the group wanted to go to the National Anthropology Museum. So I went with them, and it ended up being a pretty cool place, but I was still a little disappointed. Art failure #4: On our last afternoon in the city, in which we had two free hours between lectures, I went with Jennifer to check out the murals in the Public Education building. Guess what? It was also closed for the Bicentenario. Grrrreat. Not willing to give up, we made one last-ditch effort and sprinted several blocks to an indoor market, whose building housed some lesser-known murals that Jen had written a paper about (yes, we are art history nerds). Finally: ART SUCCESS (sadly, the one and only). We had twenty minutes to admire murals by the US sisters Marion and Grace Greenwood, and another wall sculpted and painted by Isamu Noguchi. A few of us are planning on heading back to the DF in October on our own time, so hopefully I'll be able to report a few more art successes after that trip.

Mural by the Greenwood sisters

One cool thing we did get to do in the DF was check out the Zócalo, the city center, and experience all the preparations for the Bicentenario. All the buildings were decked out with lights and giant streamers, it was like Christmas on crack. Even though we left before the actual Bicentenario, there were SO MANY PEOPLE there every night! I have never in my life experienced such a crowd. Not only were there tons of people, but they were also packed in tightly. At one point, Bri and I couldn't even control the direction of our bodies, we were literally shoved by the current of people. Hands from all directions were all over our bodies, feet were tripping us right and left, but it didn't even matter because there was a sea of people to break our fall! And here, we reach the highlight of my trip. As Bri and I were walking around the Zóc our first night there, admiring the lights and standing in awe of the crowd, it began to rain. I was wearing my trusty chacos, so my feet were pretty cold and wet. All of a sudden, I felt something very warm. I looked around, confused, trying to figure out if I was standing on an air vent or something. No. To my horror, I saw that the man next to me was peeing. On me. HE WAS PEEING ON MY FEET. I grabbed Bri and pushed my way out of the crowd and dumped my water bottle on my feet, but the damage was done. I don't think I'll be able to get the memory of that sensation out of my mind any time soon. Writhing in my skin, I decided to call it a night and head home.

Bicentenario decorations in the Zócalo

And that, my friends, pretty much sums up my experience in el DF. I learned a lot, saw some cool places, missed out on others, and worked on getting over personal space issues. Next up: The two days we spent in Puebla for the Bicentenario! But I'll spare you that story for now, since I've pretty much already written the next Great American Novel.  

When it rains...

Well, last night I finally began writing about my week in el DF. And then, the river overflowed. Remember all that rain I was talking about? There's been a lot more of it. And despite our best efforts to hide out far inland up in the mountains, some of that flooding has caught up to us. Thank you, Hurricane Karl. It's not that bad up by my house since I live a little higher up and not that close to the river (Mom - you can stop freaking out right now, I will be fine), but a bunch of the houses near the riverbank (including those of some of the students at the ICO) were flooded with mud and water.

Last night I headed over to Bradia's house to hang out with a few kids on our last night before classes begin. It was raining pretty hard as I walked over to her house, but thankfully I arrived without getting struck by lightening. I have to cross a few bridges to get to her neighborhood, and I did notice that the water level beneath them was a lot higher than usual, but didn't think that much of it. Fast forward a few hours. Right as we reach the credits of the movie we were watching (a surprisingly high-quality pirated version of Toy Story 3, complete with Chinese subtitles), Bryan gets a call from his family, asking him where he is because the bridge by his house has been wiped out by the river. Oh shit. That is the bridge I have to cross to get back home. We rush outside to see what's going on, and are affronted by a swarm of ambulances, firemen, and some very wet people. After asking around a bit to gauge the situation, we learn that everyone is ok, and the firemen are just there to block off the roads since the bridge has been wiped out. We wade around in the mud for a while, surveying the situation. There is no way I am crossing the bridge to get home. I call my house to let them know what's up, but nobody answers. After resigning myself to the fact that I will probably not be going home, Bryan informs us that some of the houses nearby have begun to flood, and the people need help moving their things and blocking off the water. As we head back to Brad's house to look for shovels or anything else to help out, we run into Bryan's dad, who stops us in our tracks. He tells us that it's no use trying to stop the flooding, because it's only going to get worse, and there's nothing we can really do until the water level starts to drop. He then tells us to go home immediately for our safety, and thankfully informs me of an alternate route to get back. So we all head home, a little shaken up.

When I got back, everyone in my house was asleep, so I was left alone to contemplate the night. It was such a strange feeling, sitting safely in my home, knowing what was going on, wanting to help, but also knowing that there was nothing I could do. The whole situation made what I've been watching on the news seem so much more tangible. While the flooding here does not even approach the scale of the scene in Veracruz and the rest of Southern Mexico, I really began to understand the tragedy of how much damage has been caused by the rain here. Thankfully, when I checked on the scene this morning, I learned that the water levels have dropped, and all that's left are the cleanup efforts. The rain has stopped (for now, at least), and as far as I know the worst that happened was some property damage.

This is the larger bridge near my house, not the one that was wiped out last night. Usually the river is pretty tame, but this morning the water was super wild and muddy.

Today, I discovered that there is mold growing on my shoes. Yes, that's right, mold. My fuzzy friend was able to take up residence on my poor shoes thanks to the non-stop rain we've had in Oaxaca since my first night here. I never thought I would use an umbrella - I am much too cool for that, and besides, I've managed just fine the past few years in Tacoma with just my rain jacket. So didn't think twice before ignoring "umbrella" on the packing list my school sent me before coming here. Now, I very much regret that decision. I have hit up several stores trying to buy one, but everywhere I've gone has been sold out. No wonder, since it has been seriously raining everywhere in Mexico for weeks - I'm not the only one in need of an umbrella. And when I say rain, I mean real rain, not the drizzly stuff in Tacoma. There has been massive flooding throughout southern Mexico because of recent tropical storms. It has caused major rivers to overflow, and now entire cities have been evacuated. The images I see on the news every day are horrifying - buildings submerged, people wading neck deep through the water, landslides from all the erosion. Thankfully, the nearest flooded area is still a few hours away from where I am, and we don't have much need to worry since we're up in the mountains. I guess I'm pretty lucky that all I have to worry about are moldy shoes.

On the brighter side of life, I just finished packing for our week-long group study trip to Mexico City. We leave tomorrow morning after classes finish (thank goodness for the last day of intensivo!) for a six hour bus ride do the DF. We're going with a group called Witness for Peace, a politically independent grassroots organization committed to peace, justice, and sustainable development in the Americas. While exploring the city (the third largest in the world, by the way), we'll be talking and learning about globalization and the economic relations between the US and Mexico, and what that has meant for human rights here. It is sure to be very informative and thought provoking. For our last two days, we are headed to the state of Puebla, where we will celebrate Mexico's 200th Independence Day! I'm not sure what exactly the celebrations will entail, but I am super excited to find out. I picked quite the year to visit - November also marks the 100th anniversary of the Mexican Revolution.

Un fin de semana educativo.

Well, I'm finally starting to feel like my UPS minor has some relevance. I decided to tack on Latin American Studies to my list of especializaciones mainly because I've always had a strange interest in that region of the world, but also because I happily discovered one day that I had accidentally completed pretty much all of the requirements by the end of my freshman year. Also, it didn't hurt that LAS and Spanish go together like chocolate and ice cream. Still, I've always sort of felt like my LAS classes were something I have been doing just for fun, because they are interesting to me, but not because I would do all that much with them. Now, however, I am suddenly very glad for everything I've learned about before showing up in Mexico. I do think it is important to be informed about the history and current social context of a country when visiting in order to understand your experiences. While I am by no means and expert on the happenings of Mexico, I at least feel like I have a pretty solid foundation.

Yesterday I was able to tap into last year's Mexican and mesoamerican art history class when the group took a day trip to Ocotlán, a town about an hour away from where we're staying that is a center for popular art. We learned a lot about the artist Rodolfo Morales, who had a pretty big impact on the city before he died a few years ago. Morales was a printer and painter who invested a lot of energy into bringing public attention to the art scene in Southern Mexico, and was also involved in the restoration of a lot of historic buildings around the city, one of which we got to visit. After checking out one of his public murals, we headed to a Dominican convent-turned prison-turned museum that Rodolfo headed renovations on, that now houses many of his paintings, along with those of other Mexican artists. Next, we headed to his house and workshop a few blocks away, which is now a museum of his works. The house was beautiful, complete with a stunning (albeit slightly mysterious and only a tad bit creepy) Secret Garden-esque atrium, but what really got me excited was seeing all his lithographs in a gallery upstairs. The trip really brought me back to last year when I had the opportunity to talk to Arturo García Bustos and Rina Lazo, a couple of Mexican artists who also worked as assistants to Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera - a lot of the same ideas resonated with me. Learning more about Morales and actually seeing so much of his work reinforced what I've already learned about modern and contemporary Mexican art - that is, a main priority is its publicity. A lot of artists favor printing because their works can be quickly and mass-produced, which helps to widely distribute social messages. Murals are all over the place here because they are essentially the most accessible form of communication; not only do they appear in highly visible public spaces, but the imagery is also capable of communicating to the masses, regardless of culture, class or language differences (you get the same idea from all of the street art and graffiti here, which, believe me, is copious - I still need to get some good pictures though). I love the art scene here, and I can't wait to see even more when we head to the Districto Federal next week when we have a break from classes.

Beyond experiencing the art scene, I also love talking with Manuel about a lot of the political and social issues here. We watch the news together every night, and while it can be pretty depressing with story after story about flooding, mine cave-ins and the drug cartels (don't worry Mom and Dad, I really AM safe here), it gives us a good foundation for conversation. We compare a lot of what is going on here to situations in the US, and he asks me my opinion on social issues. Usually I love learning about the popular opinions here, but sometimes, like today at lunch when Manuel asked me how I feel about abortion, I am a little uncomfortable because I don't know how to respond. I want to be honest and share an open conversation about topics that are really important, but I also don't want to offend when I suspect that our opinions strongly diverge. I guess I'm just not sure of the best way to handle the situation. Maybe I am being overly cautious, but maybe it really is a good idea for me to keep quiet sometimes. I'm going to keep feeling out the situation to try and figure this out. Manuel is very well informed about current events, both in Mexico and in the rest of the world, so I can learn a lot from him. Today, though, we managed upon the topic of Mormons (I AM from Utah, after all), and I had to set him straight that the majority of Utahns are not, in fact, polygamists (thinking of you, Tiegs ;) ). On a side note, while Spanish has not been much of an obstacle for me here, I am pretty proud of myself for keeping up with such diverse conversations.

I can't wait for the next session of classes to start in two weeks, so I can learn even more about Mexico's history. I am taking Mexican literature and Mexican history. It will be a nice change from my Spanish intensivo, which I have to say I am getting pretty tired of. The class seems pretty unfocused, and while I've picked up some useful grammar pieces here and there, all in all I do not think I am gaining that much from it. Also, four consecutive hours of one class is a bit much for my attention span. Oh well, I just have to push though one more week, and then we're headed to Mexico City for a few days before the bicentennial Independence Day and the next session of classes.

Here, I will leave you with a few photos from this weekend's events:

Ex-Convento/prisión de Santo Domingo de Ocotlán

Inside Morales' house

One of Morales' murals in Ocotlán