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....