I started my second and final paper at 9:20 PM, after a day at Huandacareo playing in the water, a small second lunch of tuna salad, green salad, and bread, a twenty-minute-turned-three-hour-nap, the last six pages of my maquiladora book, my last hour of aguas con el muro and the heroic pursuit and killing of a mosquito, and finally a peanut butter and mermalada open-faced sandwich. It is now 11:44 PM, and i’m three and a half pages down. I’m definitely slowing down, and it’s not a great record, but i’m happy with these pages, and they might even make sense. Survey says i’m done for now. I’ll make a game plan out of my notes on the way to Patzcuaro tomorrow, and finish up the remaining couple pages tomorrow afternoon. We’ve already been to patzcuaro, you may say…or maybe i didn’t mention it. I like the city, really, i do. But this will be the fifth time we’ve been there. We’re visiting the hospital, so i’m sure there’s something special about it, and i’m excited.
Notes on the rest of this weekend: last weekend in mexico, second free weekend in Morelia.
Friday night was an adventure. Natalie, Jill, and I had big plans to meet the rest of our group and go to Manuel’s concert, but we arrived at the meeting place ten minutes late, our directions were a little sketchy, and the street signs weren’t even helping us. Saving a few of the interesting, patience trying, and overall adventurous details for later, two and a half hours later we ended up treating ourselves to cappucinos, tapas, and postres at a little bar called Madrid.
Saturday: went to a non-tourist market Saturday morning in the lovely sun (the word for morning person in spanish is madrugadora) met Jill after some homework time and went to the centro to the museo de los dulces, a really really cool artisaneas market, back to the bookstore, and on to the other not quite so cool but still fun market, with stops to take pictures, watch the dance of the viejitos, eat some nieve de pasta. Our last stop after a successful visit to the happy go (7-11) was the cathedral. Every Friday and Saturday night, in true Mexican style, the city puts on a firework show right (and i mean right) in front of the cathedral. What we were counting on was noise, crowds, and a slightly dangerous (but not for us) operation. What we weren’t counting on was some awesome music, a break in the rain, feeling like kids, a fantastic firework display, and a very appropriate end to our time in morelia.
I am again a huge fan of chacos and capris in a city where puddles are decievingly deep or invisible, curbs can be eighteen inches high (with good reason), and cars aren’t too concerned with the fact that you were dry before they drove by.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
manifestaciones, the truth about cajeta, and entrevistas
manifestaciones
so wednesday evening i went to my favorite café and worked on my mujeres en maquiladoras book. katie came to meet me, and after a while, as usually happens, we ended up talking and not so much working. we watched an ambulance-looking van go one way on ventura puente (main street) with lights and sirens...and then the same van went the other way...the cars coming from one direction began to turn around in the middle of the street...not so out of the ordinary, but when a combi takes a new route, there's something going on. after a while there were no cars moving on the once busy street. we figured it was a car crash by the aqueduct and kept talking, but then people started walking down the street toward the aqueduct, and then more people...the owners of the cafe had been watching, and we asked a little kid what was happening, but he, like us, was clueless. the cafe owners rolled down their main door and started to close the window, but reassured us we could stay if we wanted to, and they were just closing the doors for safety, because they didn't know why all these people were converging on the intersection either...we mentioned that we might walk the other way, toward my house and another friend who katie wanted to visit. "you can't walk that way," they told us. "they closed the street all the way to the government building." the uncle or husband or man somehow related to the café owning family told us we could walk up a couple blocks and be fine, but then his sister (i think) mentioned that she was headed home with her two children and her niece, and driving us home was probably our best option. i think my neighbor, an older woman who is somehow also connected with this café, mentioned to her family that she had seen me walking home a week or so before, because as katie and i chatted and practiced english with the two late high school early college age girls and their seventh grade brother/cousin, our wonderfully nice mexican friend drove us basically to my street. turns out her niece lives a block away from me on the corner. also turns out that the people were indigenous people from outlying communities looking for the government to make good on their promises. what else is new. my parents assured and reassured me that they were "pacifico" or peaceful, which i wasn't really worried about. just another night in morelia.
cajeta: i finally had my first paleta de cajeta last night. i tried to buy one earlier this week, but had to settle for arroz because they were out of cajeta. truth: it is really really good. and really really sweet. also truth: cajeta = carmel
why can't we have popsicles like this in the states?
entrevistas
i'm about out of time for this post, but i went and visited two families yesterday with my social worker friend Carmen, both of whom are connected with DIF, a social program of the Méxican govt. for families with children. We talked with the mothers in both families about their sons who had been or were still in the US working. i will finish this sometime, hopefully soon, but it was definitely one of the most impactful experiences i've had down here, listening to their stories and seeing a little bit of what life was like when your son has to go to the US because there are neither money or opportunities on México.i wish i could explain how it felt to sit in the living rooms of these families, to see and watch them giving me what i had no right to ask of them.
in place of a more complete story, i'm adding below part of the paper i'm working on that includes the interviews, unfortunately it's in spanish and i'm not sure how well it translates or if it's even well written, but there it is.
El 24 de julio, 2008, la autor de esta obra visitó dos familias conectada con DIF, un programa estatal de Michoacán que ayuda niños y sus familias. Fue con Carmen Armenta Flores, una trabajadora social que ha trabajado con Casa MECED, un programa del DIF, por siete años. Señora Flores sirve como contacto entre las familias y la autor y para explicación cuando era necesario. La casa donde vive la primer familia parecía poquita sucia y incompleta. Aprendieron la autor y Señora Flores que el papá de la familia es alcohólico, y trabaja como un peón de albañil, pero no puede cumplir el papel de padre para su familia en los niveles emocionales o económicos. Cuando entramos la casa, el niño mayor tomó el papel del padre; nos saludó como un hombre con más que doce años. Su mamá, Elena Pérez, nos dijo que su niño mayor, Javier Pérez Pérez, le pidió si pudiera ir a los Estados Unidos para trabajar para ayudar su familia. “Puedo ir, puedo ayudar, tengo que ir,” el decía. Javier inmigró hace dos años a los Estados Unidos sin papeles con la ayuda de un coyote. Cuando llegó a California, vivía con su tío, pero ahora vive con amigos. Javier trabaja con madera, y envía dinero a su familia cuando puede. Cuando primero cruzó la frontera, Javier tenía diecisiete años, y ahora tiene diecinueve. Su familia quería que mande la autor una foto de ellos a su niño y hermano, y cuando prepararon para la foto, limpiaron toda su casa y hablaron sobre la condición de su ropa, porque no quisieron que Javier conozca como era su vida aquí en México.
La segunda entrevista es de un caso completamente diferente. Sergio fue a los Estados Unidos cuando tenía catorce o quince años, y regresó a México hace uno o dos años. Ahora tiene como veinte años. Ni sabe con cuales motivos Sergio vine a los Estados Unidos, pero cuando llegó a Florida, donde trabajó en un restaurante, empezó cambiar su mentalidad. Sergio no era en su casa cuando llegaron la autor y su compañera para la entrevista, pero su madre, Teresa, les dijo que “era muy feo” cuando Sergio salió, pero en poco tiempo al se olvidó su familia y hizo lo que quiso. Ella les dijo que Sergio empezó beber mucho alcohol, compró lo que quiso, y nunca mandó dinero a su familia. El mudó a pennsylvania y luego a nebraska, viviendo con amigos pero viajando soltero. Porque ha acumulado bastantes boletos de la policía, posible para conduciendo más rápido o para manejando y bebiendo alcohol, no sabe, Sergio tenía que ir a la cárcel en los Estados Unidos para tres meses, y luego, porque no tenía papeles de inmigración, el era deportado a México, y no puede regresar a los Estados Unidos para diez años. Teresa les dijo que ella está feliz porque Sergio esta aquí y está seguro, pero que hay muchos problemas en su familia. Ahora Sergio trabaja como un taxista, y no está en casa mucho. Su padre trabaja como un peón de albañil, y hay por lo menos dos otros hijos en su familia. Una hija tiene dos de sus propios niños, y su mamá les cuida. Su casa aparezco más limpia y más decorada, pero también muy pobre. La conducta de la señora era más abierta y menos reservada como la otra señora.
so wednesday evening i went to my favorite café and worked on my mujeres en maquiladoras book. katie came to meet me, and after a while, as usually happens, we ended up talking and not so much working. we watched an ambulance-looking van go one way on ventura puente (main street) with lights and sirens...and then the same van went the other way...the cars coming from one direction began to turn around in the middle of the street...not so out of the ordinary, but when a combi takes a new route, there's something going on. after a while there were no cars moving on the once busy street. we figured it was a car crash by the aqueduct and kept talking, but then people started walking down the street toward the aqueduct, and then more people...the owners of the cafe had been watching, and we asked a little kid what was happening, but he, like us, was clueless. the cafe owners rolled down their main door and started to close the window, but reassured us we could stay if we wanted to, and they were just closing the doors for safety, because they didn't know why all these people were converging on the intersection either...we mentioned that we might walk the other way, toward my house and another friend who katie wanted to visit. "you can't walk that way," they told us. "they closed the street all the way to the government building." the uncle or husband or man somehow related to the café owning family told us we could walk up a couple blocks and be fine, but then his sister (i think) mentioned that she was headed home with her two children and her niece, and driving us home was probably our best option. i think my neighbor, an older woman who is somehow also connected with this café, mentioned to her family that she had seen me walking home a week or so before, because as katie and i chatted and practiced english with the two late high school early college age girls and their seventh grade brother/cousin, our wonderfully nice mexican friend drove us basically to my street. turns out her niece lives a block away from me on the corner. also turns out that the people were indigenous people from outlying communities looking for the government to make good on their promises. what else is new. my parents assured and reassured me that they were "pacifico" or peaceful, which i wasn't really worried about. just another night in morelia.
cajeta: i finally had my first paleta de cajeta last night. i tried to buy one earlier this week, but had to settle for arroz because they were out of cajeta. truth: it is really really good. and really really sweet. also truth: cajeta = carmel
why can't we have popsicles like this in the states?
entrevistas
i'm about out of time for this post, but i went and visited two families yesterday with my social worker friend Carmen, both of whom are connected with DIF, a social program of the Méxican govt. for families with children. We talked with the mothers in both families about their sons who had been or were still in the US working. i will finish this sometime, hopefully soon, but it was definitely one of the most impactful experiences i've had down here, listening to their stories and seeing a little bit of what life was like when your son has to go to the US because there are neither money or opportunities on México.i wish i could explain how it felt to sit in the living rooms of these families, to see and watch them giving me what i had no right to ask of them.
in place of a more complete story, i'm adding below part of the paper i'm working on that includes the interviews, unfortunately it's in spanish and i'm not sure how well it translates or if it's even well written, but there it is.
El 24 de julio, 2008, la autor de esta obra visitó dos familias conectada con DIF, un programa estatal de Michoacán que ayuda niños y sus familias. Fue con Carmen Armenta Flores, una trabajadora social que ha trabajado con Casa MECED, un programa del DIF, por siete años. Señora Flores sirve como contacto entre las familias y la autor y para explicación cuando era necesario. La casa donde vive la primer familia parecía poquita sucia y incompleta. Aprendieron la autor y Señora Flores que el papá de la familia es alcohólico, y trabaja como un peón de albañil, pero no puede cumplir el papel de padre para su familia en los niveles emocionales o económicos. Cuando entramos la casa, el niño mayor tomó el papel del padre; nos saludó como un hombre con más que doce años. Su mamá, Elena Pérez, nos dijo que su niño mayor, Javier Pérez Pérez, le pidió si pudiera ir a los Estados Unidos para trabajar para ayudar su familia. “Puedo ir, puedo ayudar, tengo que ir,” el decía. Javier inmigró hace dos años a los Estados Unidos sin papeles con la ayuda de un coyote. Cuando llegó a California, vivía con su tío, pero ahora vive con amigos. Javier trabaja con madera, y envía dinero a su familia cuando puede. Cuando primero cruzó la frontera, Javier tenía diecisiete años, y ahora tiene diecinueve. Su familia quería que mande la autor una foto de ellos a su niño y hermano, y cuando prepararon para la foto, limpiaron toda su casa y hablaron sobre la condición de su ropa, porque no quisieron que Javier conozca como era su vida aquí en México.
La segunda entrevista es de un caso completamente diferente. Sergio fue a los Estados Unidos cuando tenía catorce o quince años, y regresó a México hace uno o dos años. Ahora tiene como veinte años. Ni sabe con cuales motivos Sergio vine a los Estados Unidos, pero cuando llegó a Florida, donde trabajó en un restaurante, empezó cambiar su mentalidad. Sergio no era en su casa cuando llegaron la autor y su compañera para la entrevista, pero su madre, Teresa, les dijo que “era muy feo” cuando Sergio salió, pero en poco tiempo al se olvidó su familia y hizo lo que quiso. Ella les dijo que Sergio empezó beber mucho alcohol, compró lo que quiso, y nunca mandó dinero a su familia. El mudó a pennsylvania y luego a nebraska, viviendo con amigos pero viajando soltero. Porque ha acumulado bastantes boletos de la policía, posible para conduciendo más rápido o para manejando y bebiendo alcohol, no sabe, Sergio tenía que ir a la cárcel en los Estados Unidos para tres meses, y luego, porque no tenía papeles de inmigración, el era deportado a México, y no puede regresar a los Estados Unidos para diez años. Teresa les dijo que ella está feliz porque Sergio esta aquí y está seguro, pero que hay muchos problemas en su familia. Ahora Sergio trabaja como un taxista, y no está en casa mucho. Su padre trabaja como un peón de albañil, y hay por lo menos dos otros hijos en su familia. Una hija tiene dos de sus propios niños, y su mamá les cuida. Su casa aparezco más limpia y más decorada, pero también muy pobre. La conducta de la señora era más abierta y menos reservada como la otra señora.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
e-mail!
i started writing an e-mail to a friend, and realized it includes most of what y'all should know about life lately. so here's most of it
Shoot. I’m sitting here again, should be writing my paper, but i’m at the point where i could start and get in a writing groove, but i could just as easily do nothing for the next few hours. I’ll make this short, because Tuesday is call the parents night, and i’m sure they’d appreciate more than five minutes.
We made mascaras in our clase de artisaneas (or something like that) tonight, exactly the same as we made with the kids at Casa MECED today, so i have a double dose of paint all over my hands. The kids at Casa MECED are really fun, really happy, which is great to see, considering the little bit we know about their pasts. On Thursday the staff offered to take me to meet a couple families and kids who have gone to the US and come back so i can ask them some questions for my paper. I’m just stoked to get to meet them and get to know them. All the kids at Casa MECED are younger, but i think the ones i’m going to meet are a bit older. We shall see. The staff are some of the nicest people.
I just ate a huge pan (mexican sweet bread with the crazy sugary stuff on top) for “cena.” I don’t know if i’ll get used to this giant lunch basically no dinner phenomenon, but it’ll probably take some adjusting when i get back. All i know is that three churros for 85 cents is very close to heaven.
I can't believe summer's almost over...i am super excited for next semester, but i’m also stoked for the spring already. Adventures all around, and in the spring i have a better chance of understanding what’s going on, since it’ll be in my native language. Today i kind of missed the beginning of a conversation, and all of a sudden we were eating some sort of pudding-gelatin thing, which i think my parents had been describing to me, asking me if i’d had, and asking me if i wanted some. Whoops.
So, in conclusion, life is good. I have to read a whole book about maquiladoras in the northern border region of méxico for my presentation on Friday (or Tuesday, hopefully), but my wonderful maestro manuel just gave it to me today. Therefore the café on the way home that plays sweet remixes of all the songs my dad listened to when i was little has become my new evening hangout. The chai té is good, the mango smoothies are better, and there’s enough noise that i don’t fall asleep, a habit i have gotten into while reading.
That was not short. But that is how life is.
Hasta regreso,
laura
and more...today we're going on a "recorrido" of museums in the morelia area, i think to an art museum and a regional museum...then it's back to the computer. yay papers!
Shoot. I’m sitting here again, should be writing my paper, but i’m at the point where i could start and get in a writing groove, but i could just as easily do nothing for the next few hours. I’ll make this short, because Tuesday is call the parents night, and i’m sure they’d appreciate more than five minutes.
We made mascaras in our clase de artisaneas (or something like that) tonight, exactly the same as we made with the kids at Casa MECED today, so i have a double dose of paint all over my hands. The kids at Casa MECED are really fun, really happy, which is great to see, considering the little bit we know about their pasts. On Thursday the staff offered to take me to meet a couple families and kids who have gone to the US and come back so i can ask them some questions for my paper. I’m just stoked to get to meet them and get to know them. All the kids at Casa MECED are younger, but i think the ones i’m going to meet are a bit older. We shall see. The staff are some of the nicest people.
I just ate a huge pan (mexican sweet bread with the crazy sugary stuff on top) for “cena.” I don’t know if i’ll get used to this giant lunch basically no dinner phenomenon, but it’ll probably take some adjusting when i get back. All i know is that three churros for 85 cents is very close to heaven.
I can't believe summer's almost over...i am super excited for next semester, but i’m also stoked for the spring already. Adventures all around, and in the spring i have a better chance of understanding what’s going on, since it’ll be in my native language. Today i kind of missed the beginning of a conversation, and all of a sudden we were eating some sort of pudding-gelatin thing, which i think my parents had been describing to me, asking me if i’d had, and asking me if i wanted some. Whoops.
So, in conclusion, life is good. I have to read a whole book about maquiladoras in the northern border region of méxico for my presentation on Friday (or Tuesday, hopefully), but my wonderful maestro manuel just gave it to me today. Therefore the café on the way home that plays sweet remixes of all the songs my dad listened to when i was little has become my new evening hangout. The chai té is good, the mango smoothies are better, and there’s enough noise that i don’t fall asleep, a habit i have gotten into while reading.
That was not short. But that is how life is.
Hasta regreso,
laura
and more...today we're going on a "recorrido" of museums in the morelia area, i think to an art museum and a regional museum...then it's back to the computer. yay papers!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
one month anniversary
i am fresh out of time for just about anything but homework
and naturally, i am searching for opportunities to do anything but homework
yesterday my mom showed me how to make salsa
and we went to dance class
and i ate a paleta de arroz (rice, more like rice pudding popsicle)
and a few days ago we went to Uruapan and stayed in one of the nicest hotels i've seen here, swam in the really cold pool, explored the market and parque nacional which was more like a built up wilderness area that shouldn't be called a national park, but there it was, all green and watery and kind of pretty in its own way.
OH and we rode horses down to the site of a 1943 volcano eruption that covered a colonial town and the only thing still visible (and traversable) is the cathedral. pictures later. then we went to some more ruins and learned about the religious games of the indigenous people. we searched for lizards and then drove back to morelia one last time.
my paper for manuel's class is now a book critique, and my book is on women immigrants.
my paper for dr. g's class, which i should be writing ahorrita (at this exact moment)is more of a speculation hopefully augmented by interviews on the differences in lifestyles for children who have immigrated to the US with their families, but who were previously working, either on farms or in the streets.
today grace, katie, and i are returning to Casa MECED, a sort of day center for children (niños de la calle and niños en la calle, those who live on the streets, and those who work selling things or washing windows in the streets during the day). the house is funded by DIF, a government program (take note, there aren't many) anyway, we're on day two of paper maché mascaras, and i don't know how anytyhing could be messier than yesterday, but today we're intoroducing different colors of mess making options. paint. should be a blast.
i'm off to write some spanish...
p.s. four weeks ago today i was flying halfway across the country and then the continent to the capital of Michoacán. now, i'm a week and two days from being home. weird.
and naturally, i am searching for opportunities to do anything but homework
yesterday my mom showed me how to make salsa
and we went to dance class
and i ate a paleta de arroz (rice, more like rice pudding popsicle)
and a few days ago we went to Uruapan and stayed in one of the nicest hotels i've seen here, swam in the really cold pool, explored the market and parque nacional which was more like a built up wilderness area that shouldn't be called a national park, but there it was, all green and watery and kind of pretty in its own way.
OH and we rode horses down to the site of a 1943 volcano eruption that covered a colonial town and the only thing still visible (and traversable) is the cathedral. pictures later. then we went to some more ruins and learned about the religious games of the indigenous people. we searched for lizards and then drove back to morelia one last time.
my paper for manuel's class is now a book critique, and my book is on women immigrants.
my paper for dr. g's class, which i should be writing ahorrita (at this exact moment)is more of a speculation hopefully augmented by interviews on the differences in lifestyles for children who have immigrated to the US with their families, but who were previously working, either on farms or in the streets.
today grace, katie, and i are returning to Casa MECED, a sort of day center for children (niños de la calle and niños en la calle, those who live on the streets, and those who work selling things or washing windows in the streets during the day). the house is funded by DIF, a government program (take note, there aren't many) anyway, we're on day two of paper maché mascaras, and i don't know how anytyhing could be messier than yesterday, but today we're intoroducing different colors of mess making options. paint. should be a blast.
i'm off to write some spanish...
p.s. four weeks ago today i was flying halfway across the country and then the continent to the capital of Michoacán. now, i'm a week and two days from being home. weird.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
water water everywhere
i wish i had time to write more, to tell you all about my adventures at the mar (ocean) and in the past week, but time is flying here, and my little typing fingers haven't been flying nearly fast enough. we just finished three full weeks in the wonderful country of México, and i have two weeks and about 12 pages left before i'm back on the lovely little 45 person airplane back to civilization as i have known it for the past 20 years.
i am currently waiting for my entrevista (interview) with Manuel, our culture teacher, about my topic for our research/reflection papers. i'm debating between the persistence of racism from colonialism, the effect of the introduction of catholicism and christianity and (or) the differences in practices between the us and méxico, and the treatment of women throughout méxico's history.
wet stories #1-5
the beach was beautiful. very relaxing. our last morning there i went for a run really early, and then stood in the surf for an hour or so watching the manta rays play, enjoying the beauty of God's earth, so happy to have been given a place in it.
natalie and erica and jill and i surfed as many waves as we could take; i ate more sand than a normal person should but enjoyed almost every minute of it. we floated over some pretty formidable waves, dive into others, and got caught offguard by a fair amount as well. played some "just touch" volleyball, tried to teach our fearless leader how to swim, and traversed the rocks at either end of our beach in search of crabs and urchin. after our hike to playa los gatos, we snorkeled out to the rocks in the middle of the bay and felt like fish tossed around in the waves. my personal favorites are the little yellow and purple and blue fish that swarm all around you and sometimes pick at your rash guard. and the tiny tiny little fish i almost missed because he was huddled in an old barnacle shell on the top of an algae-covered rock. again, drank more salt water than one ever should, but for four dollars, it doesn't get much better. played catch with a "pelota" (ball) of seaweed, and enjoyed a sunset watching the locals clam in the surf.
wet story #6
yesterday we went to janitzio, an island in the middle of lake patzcuaro (i think). we reached the island by long low boat, a little out of the ordinary, but "do you know where you are? you are meéxico, baby!" ran up some stairs that looked much kinder and more even from the water, through a market area with intermittent wafts of fried "white fish" which aparrently is only caught in lake patz. i think the fish must come out brown now, because manuel said the lake was blue 20 years ago. not so much yesterday. we finally reached the giant statue on the top, i can't remember the man's name, but he was integral in méxico's independence, so he has his own statue on this island, with a museum inside, so naturally we went in and climbed even more stairs all the way to the top so we could look out the fist of this giant character. altitude is not so much my thing, but i was doing okay...i think it was the lack of mental preparation followed by intense workout; i felt like i did after i biked to church one sunday on a whim, not incapable, but my body was mad at my mind for the lack of warning. we finally made it to the top, when just like clockwork it started to rain. the group ahead of us was a little damp, but we looked out of the mirador to driving rain. choices: rain in the face, or rain all over the backpack and back of the pants. i chose the latter. turned out it didn't matter, because we were caught in a tropical rainstorm. the trip back down the statue was about a million times faster than the trip up, and we walked outside to an almost sunny sky to take some pictures. we laughed at our relative wetness, and then it happened again...drip...drip...downpour. we huddled under the eaves of the public restroom, then moved to a wider overhang, but the rain changed direction. eventually i found a dry space under a tarp, which meant above all else that i was no longer getting wetter. manuel, like the good leader he is, summoned us in the height of the storm with a "vaminos" and we were off again, down all the stairs we had climbed just an hour or so earlier. this time we were accompanied by all the rain from above us, steadily forming a stronger, louder, browner stream of rainwater. i have never been a prouder owner of chacos. or my bright orange raincoat. yes, i should have left my backpack in the car, but my feet were warm and dry soon after we reached the boat, and my camera was safe. everything else, however....let's just say my pants are still wet, and they've been hanging by the open window for a good 12 hours. i squeezed the excess water out of my diccionario, and my book will forever bear the evidence of the day we got caught in a tropical storm on the island of Janitzio.
p.s. i was smiling the entire time. laughing, actually. this is the adventure i signed up for.
i am currently waiting for my entrevista (interview) with Manuel, our culture teacher, about my topic for our research/reflection papers. i'm debating between the persistence of racism from colonialism, the effect of the introduction of catholicism and christianity and (or) the differences in practices between the us and méxico, and the treatment of women throughout méxico's history.
wet stories #1-5
the beach was beautiful. very relaxing. our last morning there i went for a run really early, and then stood in the surf for an hour or so watching the manta rays play, enjoying the beauty of God's earth, so happy to have been given a place in it.
natalie and erica and jill and i surfed as many waves as we could take; i ate more sand than a normal person should but enjoyed almost every minute of it. we floated over some pretty formidable waves, dive into others, and got caught offguard by a fair amount as well. played some "just touch" volleyball, tried to teach our fearless leader how to swim, and traversed the rocks at either end of our beach in search of crabs and urchin. after our hike to playa los gatos, we snorkeled out to the rocks in the middle of the bay and felt like fish tossed around in the waves. my personal favorites are the little yellow and purple and blue fish that swarm all around you and sometimes pick at your rash guard. and the tiny tiny little fish i almost missed because he was huddled in an old barnacle shell on the top of an algae-covered rock. again, drank more salt water than one ever should, but for four dollars, it doesn't get much better. played catch with a "pelota" (ball) of seaweed, and enjoyed a sunset watching the locals clam in the surf.
wet story #6
yesterday we went to janitzio, an island in the middle of lake patzcuaro (i think). we reached the island by long low boat, a little out of the ordinary, but "do you know where you are? you are meéxico, baby!" ran up some stairs that looked much kinder and more even from the water, through a market area with intermittent wafts of fried "white fish" which aparrently is only caught in lake patz. i think the fish must come out brown now, because manuel said the lake was blue 20 years ago. not so much yesterday. we finally reached the giant statue on the top, i can't remember the man's name, but he was integral in méxico's independence, so he has his own statue on this island, with a museum inside, so naturally we went in and climbed even more stairs all the way to the top so we could look out the fist of this giant character. altitude is not so much my thing, but i was doing okay...i think it was the lack of mental preparation followed by intense workout; i felt like i did after i biked to church one sunday on a whim, not incapable, but my body was mad at my mind for the lack of warning. we finally made it to the top, when just like clockwork it started to rain. the group ahead of us was a little damp, but we looked out of the mirador to driving rain. choices: rain in the face, or rain all over the backpack and back of the pants. i chose the latter. turned out it didn't matter, because we were caught in a tropical rainstorm. the trip back down the statue was about a million times faster than the trip up, and we walked outside to an almost sunny sky to take some pictures. we laughed at our relative wetness, and then it happened again...drip...drip...downpour. we huddled under the eaves of the public restroom, then moved to a wider overhang, but the rain changed direction. eventually i found a dry space under a tarp, which meant above all else that i was no longer getting wetter. manuel, like the good leader he is, summoned us in the height of the storm with a "vaminos" and we were off again, down all the stairs we had climbed just an hour or so earlier. this time we were accompanied by all the rain from above us, steadily forming a stronger, louder, browner stream of rainwater. i have never been a prouder owner of chacos. or my bright orange raincoat. yes, i should have left my backpack in the car, but my feet were warm and dry soon after we reached the boat, and my camera was safe. everything else, however....let's just say my pants are still wet, and they've been hanging by the open window for a good 12 hours. i squeezed the excess water out of my diccionario, and my book will forever bear the evidence of the day we got caught in a tropical storm on the island of Janitzio.
p.s. i was smiling the entire time. laughing, actually. this is the adventure i signed up for.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
todo está bien
okay
i have more to say, really i do, but i have to say this first, and i'll write more later
DAD! we were on playa la ropa for the last four days!!!!!! i can't believe we didn't compare more notes before. did you stay there? or in ixtapa?
anyway, we didn't see any turtles, but we did see manta rays and little schools of silver fish in the waves, and we went snorkeling at playa el gato.
kari, my ipp-od has been a good companion, but not as cool as tobymac in the jetta by target.
our bus broke down yesterday, so we got back really late. i'm pretty tired, and i have a lot to write for class, but the beach was good rest and good picture taking.
if you have a minute in the next two-three weeks, please pray for patience for me, and for good judgment.
i'm off to see morelia. and eat.
love you all!
i have more to say, really i do, but i have to say this first, and i'll write more later
DAD! we were on playa la ropa for the last four days!!!!!! i can't believe we didn't compare more notes before. did you stay there? or in ixtapa?
anyway, we didn't see any turtles, but we did see manta rays and little schools of silver fish in the waves, and we went snorkeling at playa el gato.
kari, my ipp-od has been a good companion, but not as cool as tobymac in the jetta by target.
our bus broke down yesterday, so we got back really late. i'm pretty tired, and i have a lot to write for class, but the beach was good rest and good picture taking.
if you have a minute in the next two-three weeks, please pray for patience for me, and for good judgment.
i'm off to see morelia. and eat.
love you all!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
back by popular request
a translation (or what i really meant to say)
it is that (or it's true that)
we aren't fútbal (soccer) players. we played with some of the locals at their indoor field last thursday. won the third game with the help of janelle, who just happens to be on the UP team.
you shouldn't speak english in the combi (loud, friendly, and chronically crowded public transportation in the form of volkswagen mini-busses)
there is another side of Morelia that we saw yesterday when we played fútbal with Manuel and some of his friends. it appears to me like some of the nicer parts of nicaragua, but that means it's much more run down, basically the poorer part of Morelia.
a paleta de cajeta is (contrary to previous belief) more like a cookies and cream popsicle. my dad would just love it if i tried one, so i'll keep you posted.
the psychiatric hospital appeared well, but the patients were pretty drugged, so they were more tranquil than i would have liked or expected.
ants are not friends. they were all over the basketball court and consequently my feet during our "platica" (conversation) with the doctors and director at the psychiatric hospital.
there is a ton of discrimination between socioeconomic classes, and it seems the the distinctions are made primarily on skin color. how sad that the cultural persists from the spanish conquistadors, and we say we're so much more progressive.
but, on the other side: today (which was actually july fourth) to celebrate the fourth of july, we're going to (you're completely right, chris) our teacher's friend's house; he happens to be a chef, and he's going to make us sushi. so, we're going to celebrate our country's independence, in México, with sushi. yeah. sushi.
it is that (or it's true that)
we aren't fútbal (soccer) players. we played with some of the locals at their indoor field last thursday. won the third game with the help of janelle, who just happens to be on the UP team.
you shouldn't speak english in the combi (loud, friendly, and chronically crowded public transportation in the form of volkswagen mini-busses)
there is another side of Morelia that we saw yesterday when we played fútbal with Manuel and some of his friends. it appears to me like some of the nicer parts of nicaragua, but that means it's much more run down, basically the poorer part of Morelia.
a paleta de cajeta is (contrary to previous belief) more like a cookies and cream popsicle. my dad would just love it if i tried one, so i'll keep you posted.
the psychiatric hospital appeared well, but the patients were pretty drugged, so they were more tranquil than i would have liked or expected.
ants are not friends. they were all over the basketball court and consequently my feet during our "platica" (conversation) with the doctors and director at the psychiatric hospital.
there is a ton of discrimination between socioeconomic classes, and it seems the the distinctions are made primarily on skin color. how sad that the cultural persists from the spanish conquistadors, and we say we're so much more progressive.
but, on the other side: today (which was actually july fourth) to celebrate the fourth of july, we're going to (you're completely right, chris) our teacher's friend's house; he happens to be a chef, and he's going to make us sushi. so, we're going to celebrate our country's independence, in México, with sushi. yeah. sushi.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
family life and other adventures
Welp…i just busted out just under a page of spanish in just over twenty minutes, and i’m feeling pretty good about myself…it’s actually almost 9 on Tuesday evening that i’m writing this, i don’t know what the timestamp will say.
Our journals for health systems class, which i just finished the last page of, are due on Thursday, but mine are done because tomorrow we have an excursion to Tzintzuntzan (don’t quote me on the spelling, but it sounds like fun) it’s one of the original three capital or major cities in this part of México, as far as i remember without my notes, and my padre, Toño, is so excited for me to go. He’s told me more than once about the great pyramids (ps i cannot spell pyramid. Who knew?) that we’re going to see, and then he holds his hand up about three and a half feet off the ground and laughs.
Toño and i watched la ruleta de la suerte again tonight before Maru got home, and then we ate…shoot, i can’t remember the name, but it’s basically a carb overload (no surprise), a not so small loaf of good white bread with refried beans, queso, and homemade salsa on top. It’s so funny to me the difference between his cooking and Maru’s…kind of reminds me of mac and cheese and hot dogs :) Toño’s also giving me more grief about the paleta de cajeta, which, while it sounds like some extremely exotic fruit, is really a cookie dough popsicle. I told him that i would try one someday, and he said i should try it soon, because i would want more. I told him that’s all the more reason to wait, because if i like them, i’ll buy them every day and then i’ll be poor. It’s so good to be able to joke in another language.
In other news, i had a couple really good conversations with both of my Méxican padres about their lives and their work; my host mom has been hosting students for twenty years, and she began while her children were young. She has a degree in accounting, but stopped working because her oldest was sick when he was young, and dealt with some depression later because she had nothing to do while her children were in school and her husband was at work. She met a friend of a friend who happened to be a housing coordinator, and was invited to consider having students, but didn’t take it seriously until a bit later. Now, twenty years later, she and Toño still like having students here, like sitting and eating and talking and watching tv with them. That’s good, because i’m enjoying myself as well.
This morning was a bit of a struggle for me; we tackled some pretty hard topics in our culture class, and i’m still trying to figure out how to stay connected with people while still being on my own (kind of). I don’t know if you ever figure that out, and that’s okay, because that means something has to come along to make you laugh. I was sitting at the kitchen table today waiting for mole and sopa de arroz (ps everything before the main meal is called sopa. Even if it’s pasta. Weird.) anyway, my padres were telling me to give their “saludos” to my family when i talk to them tonight (which i’m going to do right after this!!!) and i got a little bit teary eyed, because it’s been a long while since i’ve seen them. And then i remembered something that made me smile and hold back a laugh. You probably will laugh too, but only one to three of you will actually get it. Kari, this one’s for you. “Which one do you THINK should be in the front, Buckman? Am i going to wake up in the morning and want a big, steaming, cup, of pig fat?”
Go ahead, laugh away, but that kind of made my day…
Today also we went to Casa de Cuna, a Catholic orphanage, and held some little folks, read some winnie the pooh books, and met a little boy named Kevin whose favorite food is sopa. I saw a big bowl of alphabet soup heading in to their tables as we left, so i think he got his wish. We also got soaked on the way there, but i’m happy to say my ridiculously orange rain jacket lived up to its purpose, and i got to hold the babies because my hair and shirt were dry.
Guanajuato (last weekend) was a blast, it’s a colonial city with tons of colors and lots of picture opportunities. Our hotel was gorgeous, but the outside walkways weren’t so useful during the gigantic thunderstorm in the evening. I “spent my wad” as Natalie would say on a beautiful painting from a women whose artist name is Loreta, but real name is Laura. Good story though. Nat and i found some really stinking sweet pictures that Loreta had, but we wanted to see the city more and make sure that was what we wanted to spend money on. The next day after our tour with Manuel, we walked back to Loreta’s booth. She was helping another family, which was all fine and good until we realized that they were eying a trio of pieces that included not one but both of our chosen paintings. We said hi to Laura, and she asked which ones we liked. We hesitantly but not too ashamedly pointed to the two at the bottom. She looked at us and we looked at her and the family said the dreaded words… “los tres” they’re a fantastic local tree with yellow and orange leaves on a purple background with an almost full moon in one corner, and a set of two almost bare trees with white hearts for the remaining leaves on a red background, and they will make that family’s house infinitely more beautiful, and they’ll probably never know. But we took home the gold that day, i am certain. Patience, a good chat with Laura, some equally beautiful and much debated over pieces, a pass through the Don Quixote museum (that was actually really cool, i think i find variations on a subject more engaging than multiple works of a similar style), and some fantastic friendship building time.
Mom, I made something for you today in our “clase de artisaneas.” It’s just like gradeschool times, only this time it’s only slightly childish.
Well, i’m off to llamar mis padres (y mi hermana), but before i do, i have a prayer request or two. My méxican madre, Maru, has been sick all week. It’s been raining a lot, and she’s had a cold and a lot of headaches, so if you could, please pray that she gets better soon. Also, we’re going to la playa this weekend, to Ixtapa and Zihuataneo, so for safety and good decision making for our group.
miss you much, love you always
la-oo-ra
Our journals for health systems class, which i just finished the last page of, are due on Thursday, but mine are done because tomorrow we have an excursion to Tzintzuntzan (don’t quote me on the spelling, but it sounds like fun) it’s one of the original three capital or major cities in this part of México, as far as i remember without my notes, and my padre, Toño, is so excited for me to go. He’s told me more than once about the great pyramids (ps i cannot spell pyramid. Who knew?) that we’re going to see, and then he holds his hand up about three and a half feet off the ground and laughs.
Toño and i watched la ruleta de la suerte again tonight before Maru got home, and then we ate…shoot, i can’t remember the name, but it’s basically a carb overload (no surprise), a not so small loaf of good white bread with refried beans, queso, and homemade salsa on top. It’s so funny to me the difference between his cooking and Maru’s…kind of reminds me of mac and cheese and hot dogs :) Toño’s also giving me more grief about the paleta de cajeta, which, while it sounds like some extremely exotic fruit, is really a cookie dough popsicle. I told him that i would try one someday, and he said i should try it soon, because i would want more. I told him that’s all the more reason to wait, because if i like them, i’ll buy them every day and then i’ll be poor. It’s so good to be able to joke in another language.
In other news, i had a couple really good conversations with both of my Méxican padres about their lives and their work; my host mom has been hosting students for twenty years, and she began while her children were young. She has a degree in accounting, but stopped working because her oldest was sick when he was young, and dealt with some depression later because she had nothing to do while her children were in school and her husband was at work. She met a friend of a friend who happened to be a housing coordinator, and was invited to consider having students, but didn’t take it seriously until a bit later. Now, twenty years later, she and Toño still like having students here, like sitting and eating and talking and watching tv with them. That’s good, because i’m enjoying myself as well.
This morning was a bit of a struggle for me; we tackled some pretty hard topics in our culture class, and i’m still trying to figure out how to stay connected with people while still being on my own (kind of). I don’t know if you ever figure that out, and that’s okay, because that means something has to come along to make you laugh. I was sitting at the kitchen table today waiting for mole and sopa de arroz (ps everything before the main meal is called sopa. Even if it’s pasta. Weird.) anyway, my padres were telling me to give their “saludos” to my family when i talk to them tonight (which i’m going to do right after this!!!) and i got a little bit teary eyed, because it’s been a long while since i’ve seen them. And then i remembered something that made me smile and hold back a laugh. You probably will laugh too, but only one to three of you will actually get it. Kari, this one’s for you. “Which one do you THINK should be in the front, Buckman? Am i going to wake up in the morning and want a big, steaming, cup, of pig fat?”
Go ahead, laugh away, but that kind of made my day…
Today also we went to Casa de Cuna, a Catholic orphanage, and held some little folks, read some winnie the pooh books, and met a little boy named Kevin whose favorite food is sopa. I saw a big bowl of alphabet soup heading in to their tables as we left, so i think he got his wish. We also got soaked on the way there, but i’m happy to say my ridiculously orange rain jacket lived up to its purpose, and i got to hold the babies because my hair and shirt were dry.
Guanajuato (last weekend) was a blast, it’s a colonial city with tons of colors and lots of picture opportunities. Our hotel was gorgeous, but the outside walkways weren’t so useful during the gigantic thunderstorm in the evening. I “spent my wad” as Natalie would say on a beautiful painting from a women whose artist name is Loreta, but real name is Laura. Good story though. Nat and i found some really stinking sweet pictures that Loreta had, but we wanted to see the city more and make sure that was what we wanted to spend money on. The next day after our tour with Manuel, we walked back to Loreta’s booth. She was helping another family, which was all fine and good until we realized that they were eying a trio of pieces that included not one but both of our chosen paintings. We said hi to Laura, and she asked which ones we liked. We hesitantly but not too ashamedly pointed to the two at the bottom. She looked at us and we looked at her and the family said the dreaded words… “los tres” they’re a fantastic local tree with yellow and orange leaves on a purple background with an almost full moon in one corner, and a set of two almost bare trees with white hearts for the remaining leaves on a red background, and they will make that family’s house infinitely more beautiful, and they’ll probably never know. But we took home the gold that day, i am certain. Patience, a good chat with Laura, some equally beautiful and much debated over pieces, a pass through the Don Quixote museum (that was actually really cool, i think i find variations on a subject more engaging than multiple works of a similar style), and some fantastic friendship building time.
Mom, I made something for you today in our “clase de artisaneas.” It’s just like gradeschool times, only this time it’s only slightly childish.
Well, i’m off to llamar mis padres (y mi hermana), but before i do, i have a prayer request or two. My méxican madre, Maru, has been sick all week. It’s been raining a lot, and she’s had a cold and a lot of headaches, so if you could, please pray that she gets better soon. Also, we’re going to la playa this weekend, to Ixtapa and Zihuataneo, so for safety and good decision making for our group.
miss you much, love you always
la-oo-ra
Friday, July 04, 2008
es que...
es que...no estamos fútbalistas
es que...no debe hablar en inglés en el combi
es que...hay un otro lado de Morelia que vimos ayer cuando jugamos fútbal con Manuel y algunos de sus amigos.
es que...una paleta de cajeta es más como oréos y crema
es que...es hospital psiciatrica parece bien, pero los pacientes tomaron muchas drogas y eran demaciado tranquilos
es que...los ormigos aqui no son amigos
es que...hay mucha discriminación entre los clases economicos, y depiende en su color de piel
pero el otro lado: hoy, para celebrar el cuatro de julio, vamos a ir a la casa de un amigo de nuestro maestro, que es un chef. vamos, en México, a celebrar le independencia de nuestro país con sushi. si. sushi.
es que...no debe hablar en inglés en el combi
es que...hay un otro lado de Morelia que vimos ayer cuando jugamos fútbal con Manuel y algunos de sus amigos.
es que...una paleta de cajeta es más como oréos y crema
es que...es hospital psiciatrica parece bien, pero los pacientes tomaron muchas drogas y eran demaciado tranquilos
es que...los ormigos aqui no son amigos
es que...hay mucha discriminación entre los clases economicos, y depiende en su color de piel
pero el otro lado: hoy, para celebrar el cuatro de julio, vamos a ir a la casa de un amigo de nuestro maestro, que es un chef. vamos, en México, a celebrar le independencia de nuestro país con sushi. si. sushi.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
for some reason i can't explain...
i have one of coldplay's new songs stuck in mi mente.
it's really good, but i can't figure out what's going on...is a puzzlement
there's not a lot to report from here; it's been raining a lot, and the gelado here is really good. we're planning a small something for el cuatro de julio, and we just visited the "hospital civil." we saw a man with a giant tumor on his face, and our maestra told us we would get to see him again, after his surgery.
i'm almost halfway through my second book, and i think it's high time i tried something in spanish. there's a bookstore by my house, so maybe i'll stop there before i head home for comida at three.
i feel a little bit like i'm at grandma and grandpa's house, because my padres and i watch la ruleta de la suerte at seven if i'm home.
'tis all, i think. my spanish is getting better, slowly. i had mango with my fruit this morning, and we might go to the plaza de las rosas for some café and tarea tonight after the clase de cocinar.
enjoy the nice weather!
i love you all very much
it's really good, but i can't figure out what's going on...is a puzzlement
there's not a lot to report from here; it's been raining a lot, and the gelado here is really good. we're planning a small something for el cuatro de julio, and we just visited the "hospital civil." we saw a man with a giant tumor on his face, and our maestra told us we would get to see him again, after his surgery.
i'm almost halfway through my second book, and i think it's high time i tried something in spanish. there's a bookstore by my house, so maybe i'll stop there before i head home for comida at three.
i feel a little bit like i'm at grandma and grandpa's house, because my padres and i watch la ruleta de la suerte at seven if i'm home.
'tis all, i think. my spanish is getting better, slowly. i had mango with my fruit this morning, and we might go to the plaza de las rosas for some café and tarea tonight after the clase de cocinar.
enjoy the nice weather!
i love you all very much
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