Matraca

Today I cannot help but wonder, why is the world such a fucked up place?

In my Temas de la Vida Mexicana Contemporanea class, my teacher took us on a field trip to visit Matraca, a non-profit organization that works to provide rights and services to children who live and work on the streets in Xalapa. It definitely had the desired effect. The goal of my teacher is to provide us with a balanced perspective about the issues faced my marginalized Mexicans. I can say with complete certainty, she is succeeding.

I spent two hours listening as Atreyu (the Matraca coordinator) passionately explained the difficulties these children face, and the difficulties the organization faces to meet their needs. By the end of the two hours diatribe, my heart hurt and I felt absolutely sick to my stomach. It was as if all that is good in the world had turned sour. Although the organization maintains faith and hope about the change that is possible in these children's lives, it made me doubt and question many things in life.

Although I am working to create positive change in people's lives, it makes me wonder if I am overly romanticizing the future of humanity. I know things are fucked up, but I have always had this hope that things are going to improve. But then I remember that life is a balance of good and bad, and that the bad is never going to go away. So am I setting myself up for a lifetime of disappointment and heartache?

Then on the walk home, I stopped and looked around. I mean, really looked around. When I first got here, everything was so beautiful and exotic. Then when the culture shock set-in, I could only see the ugliness and filth. But today, today it all looked different. It is difficult to explain, but I looked every person in the eye and saw that the balance lives in all of us. It is all around us. The Aztecs had it right in their reverence of the balance.

Some days, it feels like this trip is all about the next celebration, drink, dance, meal... Other days, it is about the intimate one-on-one conversations that passionately occur in the small hippy cafe over chai-tea or while I am diligently working on my Codice reproduction. And yet somedays, like today, it is about nothing more than the self-reflection about life, purpose, and meaning in the world. It is an odd dichotomy to live in this constant state of flux and questioning. Sometimes it feels absolutely overwhelming, but other times utterly satisfying.

Like right now for example. I am still really sad about the state of the world, but I know that the only way things will get any better is if I continue working to make the change possible. Although Matraca cannot get these children off the streets, it is not their goal. Instead, they work to be the good in their lives, by providing free education (and by free, I mean FREE), clothing, food, shelter, and opportunities for them to be, well.. children.

For that reason, I volunteered my services (as minimal as they may be) to help in any way possible. Although I don't have time to work with the children one-on-one, I will be donating my translation services to the organization, translating important documents from Spanish into English. Not only will I get the practice of applying all I have learned, but I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I am helping in some small way to make their lives better.

It is better than doing nothing, right?

Although I cannot always be the change I want in the world, I can work to be the balance.

The best and worst

So I have to do this...

Many American girls at the EEE passionately dislike the machismo prevalent in Mexico. They are personally insulted every time a guy whistles, honks, or cat-calls in their direction. I, on the other hand, am highly HIGHLY entertained.

I will admit, sometimes it is rather flattering. Once in a while it feels good to have a guy check me out at the start of the day. It is a reminder that, oh yeah, I look good.

However, men here are notorious for taking it to every extreme possible. Thusly, I have decided to post some of my all time favorite best and worst pick-up-lines.

Last weekend I was walking to Luis's house when I had to cross a very busy main intersection. Standing on the median divider, I heard a rather loud horn blast from the bus directly in front of me. The poor motorbike driver in front of the bus reacted the same instant I did, leaping forward into the middle of the intersection, at which point he tipped his bike over. Amidst all the confusion, I was still trying to figure out what the heck had caused the bus driver to beep his horn, when he leaned out the window and yelled as loud as he could, "SEEEXY!" and drove away laughing. To say the least, later on I found the experience to be utterly hilarious.

For the first few weeks of my trip, there was always the same group of city workers planting flowers along the sidewalk near my house. Every day I would cordially say hi and walk away. Then one day, the crew leader (the oldest of them all) worked up the courage to respond with more than a head nod. Grabbing my attention, he gestured widely towards the rows of freshly planted flowers and declared that he had planted every single one in my honor. Overly ridiculous, I was charmed by the gesture.

During Carnaval, I was dancing Salsa with some random guy when he leaned in and asked "Do you have a boyfriend?" Laughing, I responded "Claro!" Without missing a beat, he asked "Do you have a Mexican boyfriend?" Slightly bewildered, I could under mutter "no..." (what the heck else do you say when you have already iterated that you are not available?) At which point he smiled, leaned in closer and said (with his eyebrows all askew), "Do you want one?"

My least favorite pick-up-line (and the most common to my consternation) is one used by a variety of men and tends to be favored by construction workers. It is one word, two syllables. Every time I hear it, it makes me cringe. Imagine walking past a construction site of leering sweaty men and just as you cross their path, one lets out a loud "Gueeeeeeeeeeeeeee-daaaaaaaaaaaaa" (using exactly the same voice as a farmers wife calling out "suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey"). To all you men out there who do this, stop. It is NOT appreciated.

Another thing some men do, cannot actually be considered a pick-up-line, but it has the same annoying intent. It is not actually a word. It is simply a loud, moist smacking of their lips in a half-whistle. I cannot adequately describe the sound, as one has to hear it to understand, but it makes my skin crawl every time I hear it. It is not pleasant, nor appreciated.

Over-all, not too bad. Like I said earlier, mostly humorous. You can't blame them for trying. You can laugh though, outloud. :D

What it means to be a woman

I have never wanted to be a man.

In fact, I have been quite content with my gender for the majority of my life. That is not to say I have always necessarily been content with myself, but I have been content to have been born a woman. I have cherished my many wonderful sisters (six in all, four of real merit), my mother, my grandmother and all the amazing female role models I have been blessed to have throughout the course of my lifetime.

El Dia Internacional de la Mujer on March 8th started me thinking about my role as a woman and what that really means in today's modernized society. In the U.S., I am confronted with a double standard for the ideal female.

On one hand, I am liberated from the confines of my gender and have been completely "equalized" (although women still only earn 80 cents to the dollar for the same work as a man) and have been taught that I am as capable as any man to do any work (although yet again, we have yet to have a female president and men predominantly preside in almost all positions of extreme power and wealthy in my country).

On the other hand, I am continually assaulted with images of the "sexualized female". It is perfectly acceptable to show off my breasts for the entertainment of men, but not for the nourishment of my child. At the same time, I am encouraged to walk a fine line between my independence and the loss of my femininity. It can be a struggle, to find the middle ground.

Then, while reading an article about the roles of women in Mexico (again, a vast over-generalization), I realized we are not that different. Although I come from a different culture, I struggle with the same issues. I possess fairly conservative values (considering my liberal upbringing) regarding the roles of men and women. I was taught by my social environment at a very young age that women fulfill different roles than men. We make babies, care for our families, take responsibility of our homes, and now (thanks to modernization) accomplish all that while working a full time job. It is a tough gig.

In Mexico, women struggle with the same thing. Women everywhere work harder than ever fulfilling the physical and financial needs of their families. For example, Luis's mom manages a thriving real estate business, but is also responsible for all the cooking, laundry, cleaning, shopping, and general care of her house and family. As the only woman in the household, it is all her job. At 28 years of age, Luis had never even operated his mother's washing machine. Nor is it expected, or (in reality) socially acceptable for him to do so. Another example is Irene, my mom's servant. She works 6 days a week for 8+ hours a day (for 150 pesos a day) cleaning other women's houses. When not at work, she is responsible for ALL the housework in her own home. When I asked her what she does for fun, her response was "I sleep". Sadly, it wasn't a joke.

Bringing the topic full circle, I go back to the beginning. What is my role in all this? I have the luxury of being a "liberated woman", but what does that really change? My partner Bart is an amazing feminist (moreso than myself) and is more than willing to participate 50/50 in the equitable division of the housework. To him, a partnership means equality.

On principle, I agree. Yet in reality, I like doing all that gushy "feminine" stuff. I want to have babies, raise a family and care for a home. I like cleaning, grocery shopping and cooking. Don't get me wrong, it is a real treat to come home to a made meal (as any woman will testify), but in general, I consider it my duty.

So where does that leave me? Stuck somewhere between the old and the new. I think the difference is that I get the choice, whereas many woman have not had that luxury.

Either way, I am glad to be a woman.

Mis metas y sueños

I have spent a great deal of self-reflecting on what I want out of life lately.

A number of different factors of caused me to wonder who I am, what I am doing, and where I am going. I have always had fairly concrete goals, and yet the closer I get to achieving them, the more timid I feel about actually actualizing them.

So, I have decided to follow the thematic prompts of Chicken Soup for the Soul (I know it is super cliche, but it is my bathroom reading in Spanish... short, simple, and easy to understand) and create a list of my dreams and goals. Once I have concretely established exactly what I want out of both this trip and my life, hopefully I will feel less nervous about working to achieve them.

So, here they are:

Goal 1) Have the experience of a lifetime in Mexico while also concretely solidifying my verbal abilities in Spanish (including gaining confidence about the USE of said verbal abilities).

Goal 2) Obtain a kick-ass job as an interpreter that makes me happy so I can personally improve the lives of people and make a difference in my community.

Goal 3) Create change, especially for the Hispanics in my community who suffer from discrimination, inequality, denied access to basic human rights, and devastatingly unjust living conditions.

Goal 4) Have babies, continue to be a part of the most amazing family in the world, maintain all the wonderful friendships I have already cultivated, and create many many more relationships (both internationally and locally).

Goal 5) Obtain my Masters (Maestria) and become a certified Midwife.

Goal 6) Be elected to public office before I am 30 so I can make an even bigger difference in my community (without becoming a corrupt, soul-sucked politician).

Goal 7) Write and publish a book.

Goal 8) Change the world.

Goal 9) Become more spontaneous and take advantage of the every day opportunities life has to offer, so I can live life to its fullest without regrets.

Goal 10) Be happy.

*All of my goals are completely obtainable and reasonably achievable within the next 12 years or less.

Living it Up

So tonight was absolutely awesome.

Although logic dictates that I should go directly to sleep (no passing go, no collecting $200), I cannot help but take note of the awesomeness.

I had plans tonight to go out with a group of foreign exchange students I met at the EEE today. Four girls and 1 guy (Ruben, Ana, Vanessa, Silvia and Virginia) from Spain. They TOTALLY changed my perspective about Spain.

So the original plan was to go out to a club and dance to live Salsa music. I was advised ahead of time by Virginia to dress "super guapa". Unsure of what "super guapa" meant, I actually took the initiative to dress up nicely for our night out on the town.

Luckily, nothing was as I expected. When I met up with the group they decided we should go see a Pink Floyd cover band at the Terra Luna cafe. Unfortunately, the cafe was closed (for unknown reasons), so we went with our second option: a cram-packed bar vending free food, cheap beer and live music.

I knew I should always trust my instinct to do as the Mexicans do and go where the Mexicans are!

We had a FANTASTIC time! The food was terrible, the equivalent of bad Mexican bar food. But it was free, so can I really complain? And, it was all vegetarian: pasta, una gordita de salsa y frijoles, and... a hashbrown (?). Yeah, that last one beats the heck out of me. But I really enjoyed my very strong margarita and sangria. And the live music was absolutely amazing!~

Afterward, I was fortuitous enough to question a familiar street musician (from the previous bar) about another good location for some cheap beers and live music. Leonardo invited us (along with his friend Chai, a nice EEE student named Augustin and his VERY drunk brother) to a random little dive bar behind el callon diamonte. There I tried tequila with a wedge of lime, coffee, and sugar (surprisingly delicious) and some other previous musicians joined us for a jam fest. It was absolutely stellar. It is exactly the experience you would want to have in Mexico. It was not fake, touristy, or based in English. It was real. Real fun, company, alcohol, music, culture... A true experience.

Afterwards, Augustin and his brother were sweet enough to walk me back to my house. It was really sweet.

Tomorrow we have plans to hang out together as a group. I am pretty excited. I think things are going to change soon...

Until then, the adventure continues. :)

Happy Birthday

On a side note, today is Tedra's first birthday.

I almost forgot.

I hadn't even thought about it, until my Temas de la Vida del Mexico Contemporaneo course. We have been learning about the role of women in Mexico (an utterly fascinating topic) and today's discussion was focused upon abortions. Not an all-together savory topic to begin with, but made so much worse by my self-reflections.

As someone who has suffered the loss of a child, how could I not help but think about it while I was being confronted with real-life accounts of abortion, miscarriage, disease, and death?

Then I remembered, today would be her first birthday. I didn't even celebrate.

It made me really really sad, but not as sad as I expected to be. It still hurts, but not in the same way it used to. I don't even think about that frequently, except when I come across some absolutely adorable child being completely carefree and wonderful. In those private moments I always take a moment to reflect on what I lost.

One year old. I can't believe time has passed so quickly already. It feels like yesterday. But at the same time, it doesn't. I remember clearly every detail, still. Before, during, and especially after. I think back to where I was physically, emotionally, and mentally one year ago... and in some ways it is as if a lifetime has passed.

I guess because a lifetime has passed.

To Tedra:

I love you with all of my heart. Forever and ever.

Gone, but never forgotten.

Te amo baby.

Riding the Rollercoaster

It is odd how things work out sometimes.

I have been struggling with varying degrees of culture shock the past week or so. It has been rather unpleasant, especially considering that I am aware of what I am going through. Yet through it all, I still find time to enjoy the wonderful aspects of life in Mexico.

For example, today I had a break-through in my Traduccion class at the EEE. I worked diligently on my translation of a text titled "The Origin of Pulque", based on the Aztec mythology of the origin of Pulque (and alcoholic beverage originally considered to be sacred to the gods, which is now reserved primarily for tourists and impoverished campesinos). I tried to apply everything I have learned thus far about the process of translation. I also ventured outside of my comfort zone and took some "liberties" with the original text. For the first time, I did not create a word-for-word translation. It was very nerve-wracking, to say the least.

I was still fairly confident in my translation, until we went over unknown words and phrases within the text during class. There are always a million possible translations of any given text, but each choice has ramifications on the context and meaning of the translated text. As such, some decisions are far worthier than others. Consequently, by the end of the class I was feeling pretty insecure about my original translation. It seemed as though there were a million and one ways I could rephrase my translation to make it better.

Yet I persevered and had the professor proof my translation, even though it is not do until next week Wednesday. Lo and behold, I only had seven errors! SEVEN! For a full page translation, that is pretty good. The best part, they were all based on concordancia (agreement) and conjugacion (conjugation), my weakest areas (which I am aware of and work on improving). In fact, my professor liked the liberties that I took and said that she believed the meaning of the text was improved. She also though my text maintained the original flow and styling nicely. I was quite complemented. It made me feel good, like I am not so far off the mark after all. Seven errors? For a first draft? I am making progress. :)

My subsequent Traduccion class at the UV was equally uplifting. Although my original translation of the text was downright disgraceful, I was able to consciously correct almost all of my errors without assistance. (Perhaps I am improving and I am too close to myself to notice). After class, the professor then invited me out to lunch with the Director of the Faculty Library and a former student. We had a fantastic time! They gave me many wonderful recommendations for things to do while I am in Mexico and we all agreed to get together sometime to hang out. It was really nice. By the end of the meal, I felt really content with my verbal abilities. I think I am starting to come out of my shell. Especially because amongst academics and scholars, I no longer feel afraid to express myself and my ideas. I know I can participate in any discussion, without fear of reproach or rejections from my peers.

It was a world of difference from my trip in 2008, when my professor chastised me for speaking low-brow "street Spanish" and ordered me to stop conversing with the public. She believed they were a bad influence on my linguistic abilities. I am pretty sure I just proved her wrong. The majority of my conversations occur on the streets, yet I am still fully capable of holding my own during a collegiate discussion. So ha!

Being serious though, it did feel really good. I have been making a concerted effort to try harder and I find myself making fewer and fewer mistakes daily. Luis said I did not make a single mistake all day in all our conversations yesterday. Not a single one! And, I used both the subjunctive AND future tense.

Then tonight I had my painting class with Carlos. I am learning the ancient technique of pigment painting (used to create the Codices). Unfortunately (although fortunately), our class was canceled because the our materials we locked in the director's office and he was out sick for the day. So he invited me to his Maestro's studio. We have been having some fantastic discussions about art and he wanted me to meet his mentor. It was such a neat experience! Not only did we talk the two kilometers there and back, but I had a lively discussion with his teacher. I was then invited to join them at el Museo Antropologia for a drawing class, or for one of the many random art film movie nights they have down at the studio. I am pretty sure I will take them up on the offer.

Walking home in the darkness, reflecting back on the day, I felt really good. I had many opportunities to practice my Spanish and I confidently succeeding every time. It made me think my mom is wrong. My Spanish may not be perfect, but it is definitely sufficient. If I am capable of all that I accomplished today, just imagine what I will be capable of in three more months.

I can't wait to find out!~

The hard truth

I have been thinking allot of my role in life lately.

I had a difficult morning, following a very frank discussion about my language capabilities with my mother. According to her, my language skills are "inadequate". She is correct, of course. Even after three and a half years of college, my Spanish is not good enough. I was not overly preoccupied during the early years, because I knew that Mexico would solidify my skills. Yet once I got here I realized how much work really needed to be done. I have had to step up my game considerably. Six classes, extra-curricular activities, friendships and family simply aren't enough. I need to spend extra time memorizing vocabulary, studying the grammar and making a concerted effort to apply what I am learning. It is really hard and sometimes I don't feel like it is paying off. I think I need to keep in mind the fact that I have only been here for one month (exactly). I think that is the scary part though, I am only here for four months. Is that really enough time? It is going to have to be.

In my melancholy stupor, I spent the day questioning myself and the purpose of these last three and a half years. I have been very "me" oriented lately, thinking only about my personal language skills and what I personally am getting out of this experience. I seem to have forgotten that this journey isn't about me, per se. My initial objective was to help the people of my community. Have I forgotten that? I hope not... Without that goal, I don't know if I will succeed.

Then, while reading an article about the culture of indigenous people (of course a vast over-generalization), I started to apply their values and beliefs to my own. Their profound respect for the land, the importance of family/community/honor, the idea that life should not be about individual gain, but promotion of the whole... Then I applied my knowledge of the drastic changes occurring rapidly in these societies due to westernization and globalization. These beliefs are no longer the social "norm". They are considered antiquated and old-fashioned. They are labeled as "traditional", a word that is becoming redefined and associated with the dying generations. People my age no longer hold to these beliefs, they are more focused on the popular Western world and material gain. Why else would so many pueblos be completely devoid of younger generations?

Yet again, my initial purpose was to help the people who came to the U.S., seeking employment and opportunities to provide a better life for themselves. Yet by participating in this new culture, I am supporting the very system which I so passionately detest. I am facilitating the destruction of the values I cherish.

*sigh*

I am more confused than ever....

Naolinco

Yesterday I had a taste of home.

I went to Naolinco, a small pueblo about 45 minutes outside of Xalapa, with Rachel and Luis (my two best friends here in Mexico). The drive there was absolutely stunning. It was mid-morning/early afternoon and the mist was clinging to the hills. We drove up, down, over and around the countryside! We saw chickens, cows, goats, horses, burros, dogs, cats, and every other type of farm animal imaginable, all loitering along the side of the road. It was absolutely stunning. It would have been perfect if I hadn't gotten severely bus-sick. :S

The pueblo of Naolinco was breathtaking. It was a small intimate community (about 5000) with cute little houses, cobblestone streets, and a plethora of burros and horses. Like every other Mexican community, in the very center was an adorable Cathedral, Governor's office and public park. We walked all around town, checking out the sites.

Naolinco is known for its leather products. There are (literally) hundreds of little shops selling shoes, boots, purses, belts, keychains, cow tails, cow feet, and every other type of cow-skin based products. As a vegetarian who is trying to move away from using animal based products, I was not tempted to buy anything (to say the least). It was a rather charming community though.

Humorously, Naolinco is represented by a metal statue of a miserable looking cobbler making a shoe out of leather. He looks as though he stepped out of the story The Cobbler and the Elves, except the elves never came.

There are some wonderfully natural sites to be seen in Naolinco. My favorites are: The graveyard, las cascadas (the waterfalls), and the mirador (observation deck).

The graveyard was absolutely amazing! Every grave was set-up as an altar, with amazingly elaborate houses and ofrendas (offerings) honoring the dead. It made me very happy, being in the graveyard, to know how much these people are loved even in death. I believe that we need to respect and honor where we come from and the people who came before us. What more could any person ask for than to be loved so much that even in death they are honored and remembered. It is one of the many beautiful aspects of Mexican culture that I quite adore.

Naolinco is also known for its beautiful cascadas and mirador. The mirador is a neat observation deck/public park situated high up on the hill, overlooking the beauty of the valley and four cascadas. As the fog was as thick as pea soup, we were only able to take in the view of the two closest cascadas. Even from a distance though, we could still hear the rushing water as it cascaded down the falls. That, in combination with the cool clinging fog, made for quite a sensory banquet. It felt as though you could nearly reach out and touch it!

We were so intrigued, that even with the poor weather, Luis offered to take us down for a closer view. After a yummy lunch, we went down a neat little winding path that lead to an engorged stream and very rickety wood-plank bridge. Although Luis assured us that he had crossed the path before, many of the planks were broken and weak looking. There was also a sign posted warning away visitors and stating the land was now private property. Luis was very brave and crossed the bridge, but we thought better of continuing our journey past that point. Instead we walked along the stream until we came to a dam, overflowing with cold, polluted water. Although the naturaleza was breathtaking, the water was surprisingly filthy and stagnant. Afterward, we all felt cold and disgustingly filthy. Still, it was a heck of a lot of fun!

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted and more than ready to go home. But the funny thing is, it is the closest I have felt to home since I got here. Stumbling down the cobblestone streets and muddy rutted paths, I felt a half a continent away. There is something to be said about the countryside. Somethings never change. It felt good to be home.

Having a good day

Today was a good day.

It contained all the elements that make for excitement and adventure. There was danger, uncertainty, clarity, live music, ancient art, cute men, ugly men, freezing cold, blazing sunshine, and a nice dollop of fate to bring it all together. Just the way I like it!

My day began normally enough, with freezing rain and classes at the University. Having absolutely no desire to crawl out of bed, I lamented (yet again) the lack of hot water that is prevalent in this country. To say the least, I wished the Governor would think to cancel classes yet again. In retrospect, I am glad everything worked out the way it did. Days like today are worth both the good and the bad. I find you appreciate the good more that way.

After an uneventful (but educational) morning, I headed off to El Museo Antropologia for an informational tour on Olmeca culture. I can't explain it, but being around some of the oldest artifacts on Earth (and the oldest in Northern America) really got my blood racing. Being surrounded by 3000 year old history is indescribable. It makes you feel so insignificant and alive all at the same time. We are so mortal, yet capable of so much. It is mind boggling really.

Meanwhile, it went from 50 degrees, overcast and raining to high 70's, cloudless and the warmest sunshine I have felt yet! Racing from the Museum after my class, I hopped the first bus that was headed (relatively) in the right direction. Normally I take great care before getting on a bus, as I do not like to be lost. In my haste, I didn't even think to check which specific bus route I was on. The consequent trip was well worth the uncertainty.

Although I almost immediately regretted my hasty decision, I was soon amused by one of the many bus performers I have witnessed thus far. He was an older gentlemen with sagging facial features, who staggered quite a bit when he walked. I believe he was profusely inebriated. Propping himself against a seat, he pulled out a beautiful little guitar and began madly plucking away with his fingers. The combination of his sweet voice and plucky tune soon caught my attention. Completely fascinated, I spent the rest of the bus trip marveling at how different things are in Mexico. The performance was very commonplace, yet felt so fresh compared to how things are back home. I wish every day could be filled with the haphazard makings of a musical.

The neatest part is that these bus performers don't have to pay to take the bus! What a neat idea! They can catch a free ride anywhere and make a few coins along the way! Note to self: use this trick when in need of free transportation and a few coins in local currency.

After the old man hobbled off the bus, I looked out the window and realized I was completely lost. I wasn't on a bus route I had ever taken before and I didn't recognize any street names or distinguishing landmarks. I had a sense of the direction we were heading in, but I was completely disoriented. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw some graffiti that looked familiar (I have an odd passion for photographing graffiti, I consider it public art). Just then the bus stopped to drop off some passengers and on a whim, I exited with them. Looking up and down the street, I felt completely lost. Heading in the direction of the graffiti, I attempted to discern anything recognizable. Turning down the street where I saw the graffiti, I lucked out by discovering a side street near where I live. Utterly relieved, I made my way back to familiar terrain. In a city filled with graffiti, what are the odds of that?

Reassured, I raced back towards campus to meet Luis. I was already about 45 minutes late and my ill-thought-out bus trek had taken me well off the beaten path. Dashing across el Calle Moctezuma (a cute little cobblestone street a few blocks from my house), I just barely noticed a taxi barreling down the street in the opposite direction. Something about the taxi caught my attention and I cautiously slowed down. Although I was on the sidewalk and in no evident danger, something didn't feel right. Then all of a sudden *BAM!*. Jumping in fright, I looked back and saw that the taxi had slammed into a mini-van trying to cross el Calle Moctezuma, where I had been standing barely 15 seconds earlier.

With a racing heart, I didn't slow down to gawk. Rushing away from the accident, I passed a gaggle of construction workers who immediately began cat-calling. I don't understand why Mexican men think that the way to pick up an American girl is to start by calling her "gueda". I find it offensive. I can handle most comments and cat-calls, but that one really rankles me. I don't like being reminded of my "whiteness", even in a culture that values it.

Making it back to campus (better late than never, right?), I spent some time with Luis before heading home for la comida de media dia and tarea. Soaking up the sunshine on my balcony, I was distracted from my studying by a group of traveling street performers! They serenaded me from the street in front of my house. All together an exceedingly enjoyable experience.

By the end of the day, I can say with complete certainty, today was a good day!

Redefining Vegetarianism

Being a vegetarian in today's society is not always easy.

This is especially true in the United States. I come from a meat oriented society. We eat meat all day every day. It is in our fast food, on the shelves of countless grocery stores, and found in nearly every meal. As such, being a vegetarian means making the committed (and conscious) decision to deviate from the social norm.

As such, being a vegetarian in today's society is not always easy.

I have had my fair share of difficulties in the states in the past. Ranging from restaurants to dinner invitations, I have learned to cope with it it and make the best out of any given situation. However, I didn't anticipate having difficulties once I got to Mexico. I mean, I have been eating beans and rice for over five years now! I am in the land where corn and beans were originally domesticated. They are a common staple in every household! Who would expect being a vegetarian would be such an issue?

Truth be told, I am very fortunate. My mom is an excellent cook and makes me a wonderful variety of vegetarian delicacies every single day. Not only do I get to try a fair amount of new foods, but I am also constantly learning how to prepare them myself. I have even trained my mom to constantly keep beans, rice, tortillas, and queso de Oaxaca in the fridge. It is a vegetarian-dream-come-true.

I should have realized though, that things are not always this easy, especially considering the difficulties a friend experienced last time I visited Mexico. David was vegan and had the worst possible time trying to find food he could eat. Every time we went out together, we would spend hours walking up and down the streets asking every single restaurant if they served rice and beans. Fortunately, he operated under the "don't ask, don't tell" policy when it came to potential meat-based flavorings. Otherwise he would have probably starved to death...

Although I haven't had to struggle to find food (per se), I have had my fair share of difficulties here in Mexico. For one thing, my mom doesn't completely understand the concept of being vegetarian. Although I am not the first vegetarian she had had in the house, she has already cracked my resolve regarding lard, meat-based bouillons, fish, an seafood. I don't mind the seafood so much and the rest I just pretend isn't there.

Yet sometimes it seems as though she doesn't get it all. For example, during the welcoming party hosted by the EEE, she went out of her way to make me tortas de frijoles (bean sandwiches), to ensure that I would have something to eat at the party. Yet she made the decision to flavor it with chicken chorrizo (sausage). To say the least, I had to explain that chicken is NOT vegetarian.

It is not only her though. I have encountered quite a few people with similar mentalities regarding vegetarianism. Some, like Carmen, don't quite understand that vegetarian means no meat. They are always trying to come up with some sneaky to make meat "vegetarian friendly". Regardless of the presentation, meat is meat.

Then there are others who think that being vegetarian means you are a god-forsaken space alien from outer-space. As such, most respectable establishments don't offer "that type of food", when in reality, they usually do. I encounter this mentality nearly every time I step into a restaurant, as I always ask before being seated if they serve vegetarian options.

For example, walking into a local market yesterday, I asked the patrona of the first street-style restaurant whether she served vegetarian food. Clearly scandalized, she vehemently shook her head and said "claro que no!" With a sigh, I asked if any of the restaurants in the market served vegetarian options. Distressed, the women continued to shake her head, as she turned her back on me. Then, to my surprise, she opened a giant pot and began to stir the yummy looking rice inside. Next to the pot of rice was a pot of black beans. Next to the pot of black beans was a stack of tortillas. Really now?

Then again today, I experienced something similar at the Museo Antropologia. I had a bad reaction from my low blood sugar and had to eat something from the museum cafeteria. With a splitting headache and sharp pains in my belly, I asked the patrona if the restaurant offered any vegetarian options at all. Shaking her head, she iterated the now common-place response: "no". Needing to eat something, I all but begged for food, anything. "Tortillas? Queso?" The woman's face brightened, "Ah si! tenemos!" Placing an order of cheesy tortillas, the women shocked me by asking if I wanted beans with that. Then, to my amazement, she pointed to the menu and recommended I order antefrijoles. To those of who you don't know what antefrijoles are: four tortillas folded up and filled with beans, cheese, and crema; covered in beans, cheese, and crema. I still can't wrap my head around that one.

Then again, it isn't all bad. Although the majority of the gente don't seem to understand the definition of vegetarianism, I still manage to find food to eat. I have only really been plagued by one bad experience. During Carnaval, I could not find food to eat. For the first day and a half, I struggled to find cheese and tortillas. It wasn't until the third day that I found a restaurant that served beans and rice. I'll tell ya, after not eating adequately for three days, you learn to appreciate the simplicity of a plate of beans and rice. There is nothing more delicious in the world when you are starving.

When all is said and done, it has been an eye opening (and stomach filling) experience.

A Day of Domestication

Although I may not have done anything particularly fancy or exciting today, I feel as though I accomplished allot! My hands hurt, my back aches, and I am utterly exhausted.

Whenever I have free time I feel as though I should be doing something, especially on the weekend. Today was no different. The exception was that I realized I didn't need to go "out" in order to satisfy that feeling.

When I woke up, my mom was out in the courtyard washing laundry (as she is prone to do when it is sunny out). I had already planned on doing laundry today, when it occurred to me that I should take this opportunity to really immerse myself in the culture and "do as the natives do". Not that all Mexican women wash their laundry by hand, but it is allot more common here than back home. So, determined to try it out, I marched down to the local tienda and bought a bar of "Jabon de Zota".

I proceeded to spend the next two hours washing every article of clothing I own here (except for what I am wearing). It was utterly exhausting and oh so fulfilling! I had no idea what hard work it is to wash clothes using nothing more than a bucket of water, washboard, and bar of soap! Standing in the sunshine, soaked from the splashed water, I had a great deal of time to reflect on the mundane task of doing laundry. I have never really thought about it before.. I guess I always kind of took for granted the simplicity and convenience of washing machines. I mean, until recently, this is how it has been down. Imagine, generations of women (and men) washing not only their own clothes, but the clothes of their families! Hours on end, spent laboring to make sure their families have clean clothes to wear.

With that thought in mind, I would like to personally thank women everywhere for all the effort they put in (and have put in) to provide a better life for their families. Thank you so much!!! Without you, we wouldn't have the conveniences of modern technology or clean laundry.

Think about it, next time you throw a load of laundry into the washing machine.

Rain rain go away, come again another day!

It has been rainy, wet, and cold for over eight days straight now!

I knew this was Xalapa's rainy season, but I didn't actually anticipate days on end of rain. Fortunately, the sun came out about ten minutes ago! Yay!! Then it disappeared again. Still, there is hope!~

The dreary rain brought on a spell of homesickness yesterday. I was home alone for the better part of the day and it really struck me that I am alone here... It was a really bad feeling. My heart hurt in a way it has never hurt before. I didn't like it. I guess I always kind of assumed I would be the exception to the culture shock rule. Fortunately, I got lots of lovin's from home via facebook, which really picked me up. Thank goodness for technology!

Plus I am not really alone here. I have Luis and Carmen. Luis is like the brother I never had, he is my home away from home. Carmen is equally amazing. Yesterday she made me the most delicious vegetarian tamales I have EVER had in my entire life! I am lucky to have them both in my life!

The cure for homesick: fresh vegetarian tamales, a cup of mint tea, and a hug. :)

With any luck, that will have been the worst of it. Espero que si!

Carnaval!

This past weekend I spent celebrating a time honored tradition: La celebracion de Carnaval!

Although Carnaval is loosely based on religious practices, it has come to symbolize something far grander: the coolest party of all time.

Carnaval is an eight day long celebration before lent begins and I have been told that Veracruz is the place to be during that time.

I first learned of Carnaval from my bus driver Nestor, when I arrived in Veracruz two Sunday's ago. The city was already making preparations for the fiesta, as rows of bleachers were being assembled along the boardwalk for the parade and businesses anticipated the influx of travelers.

At that point in time, I had no intention of attending Carnival. According to Nestor, Carnaval is basically one giant drunken fest and in some ways he was right (I had my fair share of beers, believe me!).

But Carnaval is about so much more than that! The more I thought about it, the more I realized what a once in a lifetime opportunity this was!~ What better cultural immersion experience than to experience first hand one of the biggest celebrations in all of Mexico!

So, with a group of girls from the EEE, we rented a room at La Galeria Plaza and booked some round trip bus tickets.

I am not entirely sure what my expectations were before we left, considering that the extent of my knowledge was based on Nestor's brief recommendation. I was basically looking to have a good time, meet new people, and get to know the girls from the EEE better. I can say with satisfaction that all that happened and more!

Although we had some speed bumps along the way, like sneaking girls into the hotel room (myself included) and warding off drunken advances from machismo assholes, I could not have asked for a better experience.

Our hotel was exquisite, easily the grandest hotel I have ever been in. I swear the sheets were Egyptian cotton! We also had a plethora of HOT water (my first decent shower since I got here) and a beautiful balcony looking out the cooling system (oooo, what a view O.o).

At the same time, we were semi-stalked by scary hotel security guards with walkie-talkies (who knew exactly who we were and what room we were in) and the room lacked some really basic amenities. For example, lamps. You wouldn't think to miss lamps until you are in a room with none. The only lamp in the room lacked light bulbs. What the heck?

Also, the night light next to the beds was apparently possessed by some little faery-daemon. It would flicker on and off all night long, at random intervals. It was slightly disconcerting.

Yet we weren't there to stay in the hotel, which was evident in the lack of sleep we all received. In reality, the party was out in the street, amongst the people. In the zocalo (centro) there was a grand stage set-up with bands, dancers, and small artisan markets. Although the real party didn't begin until after 11 every night, there were more than enough engaging things going on to keep us occupied!

During the day, I saw wonderful ethnic dancers, browsed home-made handcrafts, and listened to a grand variety of street musicians. At night, I danced and danced and danced! Near the zocalo each night was a neat little side concert, where I met many wonderful people and danced with many nice men.

I met Jorge and Michel, two kind-spirited guys from Mexico City who served as my protectors-of-sorts. They always intervened when some machismo guy would overwhelm me. I will never forget that wonderful feeling as I collapsed into bed each night, so completely depleted from a full day of experiencing life.

We were also near the boardwalk, which meant many wonderful trips to the ocean. Although we never actually made it to a beach, I greatly enjoyed many hours sitting on the cement wall and rocks alongside the boardwalk, doing nothing more than basking in the calm ocean breeze. It was absolutely beautiful.

On the other side of the cement barrier was a grand parade route, stretching along four miles of the ocean-lined boardwalk. Our final day in Veracruz was perfectly culminated by the grandiose parade that stretched out before us. Standing atop the cement barricade (the only free seat in the place), we spent hours enjoying costumed dancers, elaborate floats, and a variety of musical performances. It made me very happy, swaying back and forth in the warm ocean breeze to the music and movement of thousands of people.

Now THAT is Carnaval!

My home away from home

I am loving my new home!

Not only am I making lots of new friends, but my home life is absolutely amazing. I get my own private room which includes a huge closet, LOTS of storage space, and a private balcony! It is perfect for taking siestas in the sunshine after la comida de media dia (the equivalency of lunch).

I was also very fortunate with the selection of my family. My host mom (Carmen)is absolutely amazing. I live alone with her (all her children are grown and gone), which is actually really nice. We have spent hours on end talking about everything. I am learning so much from her; ranging from new recitas (recipes) to new vocabulary. It should come as no surprise that nearly all my new words are food related. :)

Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting her daughter Marie Carmen and granddaughter over la comida de media dia. I can tell that their family is really close, which is comforting. I miss my own family enough, that it feels good to be around someone elses.

I also made some new Mexicano friends already! Luis (my cultural assistant) introduced me to some of his girlfriends here. We went out last night and had a blast! Over beers and pizza I learned that college students are the same EVERYWHERE. The things we talked about were surprisingly... normal. There was lots of teasing and laughter as the girls taught me "essential vocabulary" for surviving in Mexico. It should come as no surprise that the word at the top of the list of "chug" in Spanish. They are planning a party for me next week. I can't wait.

I will admit, it was difficult at times. I could not understand everything they said, which made me feel weird. It was mostly the slang that confused me, but it reminded me of something a friend once told me. She was an international student studying for a year in Oakfield, and after six months of friendship she admitted that when we first met, she couldn't understand a word I said. She admitted that she used to nod her head in agreement, even when she had no idea what I was saying. After last night, I understand COMPLETELY. It is no fun to constantly ask for clarification. It is better to go with the flow, have another beer, and try to have a good time.

So that is the plan! Especially for this upcoming weekend. I am planning a three day excursion with some new friends to Veracruz for Carnival! I may not be Christian, but I sure as heck will enjoy the celebration!

Meanwhile, the adventure continues!

What it means to be an international student

I have known quite a few international students over the course of my lifetime, but I had no clue as to what it is all about.

In the past, I thought being an international student was about learning first-hand the differences of other cultures. Yet what I experienced today, although not all together normal for me, seems like it would be a totally common experience for any international student studying in Xalapa.

I was concerned about making friends, but I should not have been. I was correct in my first assumption that the other girls from UW-LAX are not really friend material. Instead, I met many other interesting people, both local and international!

I met Luis (my campus buddy) and he is amazing! After an uneventful bus tour of the city, he and I went on an intensive exploratory walk all around el Centro (the center of the city where all the coolest things occur). It feels like I learned more about Mexico in the three hours I spent with him, than I have from three years of studying at the University.

He is every bit a gentleman and has sworn to be "mi mejor amigo de Xalapa". He even jokes that if I spend enough time with him, I will eventually turn into a "Jalapeno" (the equivalency of being a Wisconsinite).

I also met many interesting characters through la EEE (Escuela para Estudiantes Extranjeros). The neatest thus far are Henry and Elis.

Henry is from Belgium and I can't understand barely a word he says (in English or Spanish). He was the first friendly person I met at the EEE, even with the language barrier. He seems very adventurous, even though his program through rotary restricts him from "having fun". He is also very knowledgeable about Xalapa, as he has been living here for six months already.

Elis utterly fascinates me. She is from North Carolina and she is interested in art, Spanish, music, and maps. I find that combination odd, but intriguing. I have a feeling we will be spending a great deal of time together in the future.

The best part was when a whole group of us (Mexicanos y EEE students) went out after our placement test for a celebratory drink. It was the first legal drink for many of my companeros, to everyone's amusement (or maybe just mine). Sitting around the table, telling funny/bad stories of where we come from was the best. I even tried flavored tobacco from Henry's hookah! And the our new local friends offered to throw us a Welcoming party soon.

Sounds like more good times are to come.

Being an international student rocks!

"Bobo, I don't think we're in Wisconsin anymore..."

Although I have always lived by the age-old adage that there is no place like home, I realized today that home is what you make of it, regardless of physical location.

It was really hard to say goodbye. It was even worse to walk away. Yet once I over-came that initial anxiety, moving forward was the easiest thing to do.

Now, I find myself half-way across North America, and surprisingly, comfortable. I have Bobo (Bart's stuffed ram) to keep me company at night, an amazing (and private!) room, free internet access at all times, and people from across the continent sending me lovin's.

What more could anyone ask for?

In truth, I consider myself VERY fortunate to be here today. My host mother is absolutely amazing!

We share many common interests; including a love of cheese products, drinking a warm cup of tea before bed, celebrating the joy of having a loving family, the delights of gardening, and sharing recipes.

To top off the day, we shared a moment over 12 blossom tea and homemade Quesadillas de Queso de Oaxaca (the BEST cheese in the WORLD) y fresh avocado slices.

Oh, there's no place like home. :)

Facebook Friends

I am very excited!

It seems the beginning of my trip has already begun. Today my "cultural assistant" Luis (which is really just a fancy title for "campus buddy") sent me a facebook message!* It was such a wonderful surprise, that we immediately began connecting via facebook chat. From the sounds of it, we share a number of similar interests! The neatest part is that he is as fascinated by U.S. culture as I am by Mexican culture.

I am so delighted that Luis sent me a personal message! I have been a little nervous about not knowing anyone and making new friends, yet Luis helped to ease my nerves.

I hope that our friendship is the first of many new relationships!

*Hola Ana! Me da mucho gusto el saber que vendrás a vivir este semestre a esta hermosa ciudad de Xalapa :-).Mi nombre es Luis Daniel y seré tu asistente cultural durante tu estancia en Xalapa. La escuela para estudiantes extranjeros me ah asignado como tu tutor para ayudarte en lo que necesites en México pero también quiero que sepas que el objetivo de este programa no es el de ser como un tutor o algún maestro, sino el que tu y yo seamos amigos y que aprendas tanto de mi cultura como del idioma. Yo eh trabajado como tutor de estudiantes por mas de 5 años y eh aprendido mucho de tu cultura por eso pienso que no sera difícil que tu y yo seamos buenos amigos :-)

Si tienes alguna duda sobre xalapa no dudes en preguntarme, If you have problems with Spanish don't worry I speak English and I understand it very well so we can talk in both ways if it's necessary. I won't tell you more things about me until we meet the next Monday in the orientation session and don't worry I'll be there and we will be able to speak more in Spanish and don't be afraid that you won't learn spanish with me because I won't speak english with you unless that you want to ;-)

Espero que tengas un muy buen viaje y nos vemos pronto.

Welcome to Xalapa! Bienvenida a Xalapa!

The Beginning of the Blogging

Welcome to my blog: Memoirs de Mexico!

Over the course of my blog, I will be sharing my experiences, memories, and internal thought processes as I explore Mexico through my study abroad.

If you aren't bilingual, no frets! The majority of my posts will be in English, although I am susceptible to random outpourings of Spanglish now and again.

I welcome you to join me over the next four months, as I embark on my journey of a lifetime!