31/10/10

I'm back in Oaxaca, which is supposedly where I'm studying, though I haven't been spending much time here these days. Between trips to DF, the beach at Huatulco, and the nearby mostly indigenous town Teotitlan, this is the first weekend in 5 weeks that I've been here. It's nice to be back. I was starting to forget what normal weekends are like here! Not that this is a normal weekend, exactly. We're smack in the middle of Muertos celebrations (that's Day of the Dead for you cuadros who don't know), so it's been pretty crazy here. But more on that later. Here's what I've been up to the past few weeks:

El DF, Round II:

Hanging out with fellow rubio
and Utahn Pabio O'Higgins in
the Public Education building

Two weekends ago I made a return trip to DF with a few friends to do some of the things we were unable to during our trip with Witness for Peace. Mostly, that meant redeeming ourselves from all of art failures the first time around. We were only there for three days, so that meant packing in a lot, but with lots of ganas and our new mastery of the metro system, we were able to do pretty much everything we were hoping to do. Our first day there we went to the Palacio Nacional (the Mexican equivalent of the White House) and the Secretaria de Educación Pública, both of which house some awesome murals (mostly Rivera, some Siquerios). The Public Education building was cool because literally every square inch of the three floors of wall space facing the giant inside courtyard is covered with Diego's paintings. The paintings reflect the themes of social reform dealing with education, indigenous rights and land appropriation that surged during the Mexican Revolution, which began about a decade before the work was commissioned. In the Palacio Nacional, we got to see one of Diego's most famous works, The history of Mexico: From the Conquest to the future. It is a HUGE painting that surrounds the main staircase in the Palacio, depicting exactly what the name suggests. I can't express how amazing it was to see in person, along with all the other murals we witnessed. In our visit to the Palacio we were also subjected to the strangest propaganda film I have ever seen. After passing security but before being released to explore on our own, we were herded into a room with other visitors that was made up of five giant projection screens on the four walls and the ceiling. We were locked in the room, and shown a five minute film with patriotic images from the past and present set to an intense, chanting beat (I think it was supposed to invoke thoughts of Aztec ritual, though I'm not quite sure. Maybe just intimidate us?). Becca asked her host dad about it afterwards, because we thought it was so bizarre, and after laughing he told her that the Mexican government has to invent ways to instill la patria, since they really have nothing to be proud of. More than a bit cynical, if you ask me, but still pretty funny.

Diego in the Palacio Nacional

The next day we went to Chapultepec, which is a giant park that houses a bunch of national museums. We decided to go to the Castillo de Chapultepec, a giant castle used by both Maximiliano and Porfirio Díaz back in the day that is now home to the national history museum. It was a long walk up a winding hill, and with all the tourists, music, and waiting lines with the view of the giant castle tempting us in the distance, I was reminded more than a little of Disneyland. The castle itself was stunning. I've never before been in a place so huge or so luxurious, I can't imagine living there! Staring off the balcony that overlooks Mexico City, I reflected on the contradictions that so often characterize Mexico. It's hard to believe that a place so beautiful and extravagant can exist in a city that is so dirty and slummy in some places. That's actually one of the things Díaz was criticized for most during his dictatorship (ok - while he didn't build the castle he did live there, and I think it serves as a pretty good symbol for his reign during the Porfiriato): while he helped modernize Mexico in many ways and commissioned a lot of really cool infrastructure projects, he neglected the well being of the masses, and tons of people lived in poverty. The same contradiction exists in Mexico today; while the daily minimum wage is less than the equivalent of five American dollars, the country is also home to Carlos Slim, the wealthiest man in the world. But I digress from my trip... 

Later that day, we finally got to go to the house where Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera lived! While there weren't too many of her actual works there, it was cool to see her personal belongings and living space. There was also a neat photo exhibition - not sure if the photos belonged to Frida or if they were just visiting - with photos by the likes of Tina Modotti and Manuel Álvarez Bravo, some of my favorite photographers. For our last big stop in DF, we tried to go to the Palacio de Bellas Artes (one of Porfirio's cool projects I mentioned earlier), which houses works by some of the most famous Mexican artists, including the recreation of Man, Creator of the Universe, one of Diego's other most famous murals that I was really hoping to see. Unfortunately, the Palacio was closed for what looked like the setup for a concert, so I missed out for the third attempt in a row. Ah well, besides that our trip was quite successful.

Best damn tacos in the world!

The final, and debatably most important element of our trip? The street tacos. During our first trip to DF, we happened upon a taco stand that truly changed our lives called Taqueria el Progreso. I'm not sure how many of you are Food Network fans, but they put on a program called "The Best Thing I Ever Ate," in which famous chefs talk about the best [fill in the blank] they have ever eaten. If I were a television chef, these tacos are what I would talk about. They are quite possibly the best thing I have ever eaten, period. They are super hot corn tortillas filled with delicious greasy thin-sliced "bisteak" meat. I topped mine with nopales (cactus), SPICY guacamole, and peppery potatoes. Top off your meal with a liter of horchata or a freezing glass bottle of coke to cool your mouth, and you will find yourself in taco heaven. We returned there every single day of our trip without shame, despite the many jokes and stares from the men who worked there. After long days of sight seeing from which our legs ached from walking around for hours, we didn't even mind standing in the street and eating off of water barrels while being stared at. It was, without a doubt, totally worth it.

Huatulco:
After our successful DF trip, we could hardly believe that four days later it was time for another vacation to the beach, this time with the entire group. I endured the most miserable seven hour unpaved van ride of my life that not even Dramamine could improve, but it was worth it in the end. I was super excited to go swimming at the beach, since the only beaches I've gone to in years are far too cold to swim. And that's exactly what I did for three days straight - swim, with a little lounging in the sand and piña coladas thrown in to mix things up when I got tired. Although I'm not sure I really needed a break from life and school in Oaxaca, it was certainly relaxing. Since it's the off-season for tourism, we were practically the only ones staying in our hotel (or any hotel, from the empty looks of the beaches). It was a little eerie, but mostly fun to have free run of the place. Also, our hotel rooms were air conditioned, a luxury that I had forgotten about during my time here, but welcomed with open arms as it was about 80 degrees with what felt like 1000% humidity. But since when I wasn't in the hotel room I was usually in the water, it wasn't too much of a problem. Unfortunately, on our last full day at the beach, I got a pretty terrible sunburn, which is still wreaking havoc on my poor peeling face a week later. Usually I'm pretty good with the sunscreen, but on the last day I foolishly decided to try out some of Brad's hippie "all natural" sunscreen, with disastrous results. The sunburn made the terrible 8 hour drive back home even worse, but all in all it was a very relaxing weekend.

So that's what I've been up to for the past few weeks. Sure, I guess I've also gone to class in between, but that hardly compares to bulk of my adventures. I think I need a little vacation from vacations, but I have to say that the opportunity to travel is one of my favorite parts about my stay here. Next up? Día (but really more like Semana) de los Muertos. The good times are killing me.

12/10/10

It's been a little while since I've written anything, but I think that that's a good thing. I'm finally settled in here, and my every-day stories no longer seem like disconnected anecdotes about living as a foreigner, it's just my life. I wouldn't say that the transition to this point was especially hard - I never had any of the "oh shit" moments I half-anticipated. But I can definitely tell a difference between how I feel now and my experience living here the first few weeks. It costs me a little trying to come up with what to say now, since everything seems pretty much normal, but I'll do my best to give a sketch of what I do in la vida cotidiana:

I go to school:
Gracias a Dios, our Spanish intensivo class came to an end just before we went to el DF. Four hours of grammar instruction each day became tedious quickly, not to mention that the class was painfully easy. After 60 hours of class time, I can say with confidence that I now know the difference between aun and aún, esta, ésta and está, and I am able to call people names like snob, nerd, and lame when appropriate (fresa, ñoño y huevon - this was one of our most interesting and useful lessons). Needless to say, I was more than glad to move on to our second session of classes. I am now taking Sociology of Oaxaca and Mexican History. My schedule is stacked such that I have both of these classes on Tuesday and Thursday, meaning I have six consecutive hours of class on those days, and a 5-day weekend for the remainder of the week. Really though, it's not as luxurious as it sounds. Both the classes are reading-intensive, and I spend a good amount of time on Mondays and Wednesdays preparing for class. Besides the fact that they present a break from straight-up dry grammar instruction, I am enjoying the classes a lot, especially in conjunction with one another. I feel like I am getting a fairly encompassing education on Mexico's past and present, which, as I've stated previously, is something I see as very important to traveling conscientiously. Most of the other kids opted out of taking the history class - in fact, there are only three of us in the class - because they would rather learn about more "current" (read: relevant) issues. However, I find the class to be the perfect complement to my sociology course, as it gives me the context to understand how the current social and political situations came to be. But back to the fact that I'm in a class of three students. It is certainly a different learning experience, and more than ever before, we are held accountable for learning the material, since you can't just hide behind the rest of the class if you don't finish the reading before a lecture. We also have the opportunity to do some cooler stuff as such a small group - today we walked downtown and got a personal tour of the main cathedral's 500-year-old library and got up-close and personal with some of the manuscripts created during the period of Mexico's independence. Our professor is an adorable old man called Paco Pepe who is clearly enthusiastic about his subject, and despite the fact that he seems to have little concept of time (class frequently gets out 15-30 minutes late), we enjoy every second we have to chat with him. Call me a huevona, but I am enjoying our transition to more serious school mode.

I hang out with the family:
Two weeks ago, by the grace of some mysterious force, Emma and Manuel's grandchildren decided that they LOVE me. Not that they disliked me before, they were always just kind of shy. But two weeks ago, Regina, the youngest at 3 years, invited me to a tea party, and now we are bff's. Regi's spontaneous acceptance of me spurred interest in the older boys (ages 6-11), who soon invited me into their various roughhousing pass times. Now, I can hardly sneak a moment to myself when I'm home during the day, as Regi knocks on my door every 10 minutes and doesn't take "I'm doing homework" for an answer. The majority of my time at home is now spent hunting butterflies and playing dodgeball - I know, it's a rough life. I always felt welcome in Emma's home, but I'm starting to feel like one of the family, which I love, and don't take for granted for one second. Last week, my friend Jennifer's Oaxacan host mother passed away, which has shaken everyone up a bit. It did help me realize how important my family here is to me. Even though I don't have siblings my own age to hang out with, I adore talking with Emma and Manuel, and their grandchildren make me laugh on a daily basis. Even though I'd sometimes prefer a siesta over an imaginary tea-party, I wouldn't change my living situation for anything.

I dance:
I finally took my salsa moves public a few weeks ago, and now I'm hooked. Every Thursday there is a live band at the local salsa hot-spot Candelas, and admission is reduced - double bonus. While our salsa class we took the first few weeks here was a little boring with only four male partners for the 15 women to share, I have no difficulty in finding a partner at Candelas. In fact, it's hard to convince some of the guys I need a break after sweating out several songs in a row. I was pleasantly surprised with how well my classroom skills translated to the club, but things got a little tricky when non-salsa songs came on. Merengue? Check. I remember it from Panamá, and besides that it's pretty self-explanatory. Cumbia? So-so. The rhythm is the same as salsa, but the steps are a little different and I never formally learned them, so I stumbled through the first few songs, but I think I might have it down by now. Bachata? Disastrous. It's completely different from the other rhythms, and as I quickly learned, there is no faking it. I'll admit that after my first disastrous bachata experience in which I'm sure my partner regretted inviting me onto the floor, I did give myself a youtube crash-course on the basic steps. Here's hoping things go more smoothly next time around!

I get called "guera:"
Guera: Meaning someone with fair hair/complexion, debatably less offensive than the word "gringo." While this word can be applied normally to Mexicans with a lighter complexion, the way in which it is used about (or more appropriately, at) my fellow travelers and myself isn't generally so innocent. Appearance-wise, I am about as far from the typical Mexican as you can get. My blonde hair, "refrigerated" skin as it was once called here, and 5'10" stature garner me a lot of unsolicited attention. As such, I am called "guera" by strangers a minimum of 10 times per day (a conservative estimate). The majority of the guera comments are made by relatively harmless but big-mouthed men, and are accompanied by statements like "get in my taxi, guera," "share your money, guera," "I loooooove you, my beautiful guera," or the oh-so-original "no quieres mi salchicha, guera?" from just about every taco cart man on the street. Sorry guys, but calling me guera and winking doesn't get my interest that easily. The worst of the guera moments happened last week, when Becca, Bradia and I were followed by a guera-hissing car for a few blocks as they walked me home one night. Usually comments are less threatening and overall pretty harmless, but it bothers me that this is such a normal part of life here.

I eat:
(A lot). One of the most pleasurable, but least productive pass-times here. Once I learned to carefully navigate around some of Oaxaca's less-appealing dishes (I finally told my family that I hate eggs. Nobody was offended, and breakfast has been a lot more pleasant since then), I learned that the culinary offerings here are delightfully endless. Mangoes, taco cart confections, and esquites (cups of corn/corn water, lime, chili salt and Oaxacan cheese - better than it might sound) are some of the favorite items found on the street. Our professor Monica also introduced us to a hidden Irish pub in town, so Guinness has also become a regular part of our diet here. Maybe not the most Mexican item on the menu, but hard to turn down. Thank goodness PLU/UPS give us a monthly dinner stipend, or my bank account would be draining alarmingly quickly.

And finally... I travel:
I'll save my travel stories for another day, but this month is full of exciting excursions (say that 10 times in a row). The past two weekends were spent in the mostly indigenous town Teotitlan del Valle, where I learned a lot about rural life here and picked up a few phrases in one of the many Zapoteca dialects (on a side note, if you are ever interested in learning about indigenous Oaxacan life and migration patterns because you are a freak like me, I recommend the book Transborder Lives by Lynn Stephen. Read it for a sociology class last year, and it is proving to be extremely relevant these days). This weekend I'm heading back to Mexico City with a few friends to do everything we were unable to on our hyper-scheduled Witness for Peace trip, and the weekend after that the group is headed to the beach. This doesn't leave a lot of spare time on the weekends, but I love getting to know some of the spots outside of Oaxaca.

And that is my life in a nutshell. I feel comfortable here. It's hard to believe that my time in Mexico is nearly half way over, but that's a thought I try to push out of my mind. Instead, I'm just finding ways to make the most of my time, not a hard task at all. That sounds pretty trite, I know, but it's the truth.