Good Stuff

I feel like I owe you all a follow-up blog post. I don’t want you to think I am leading an oppressed, miserable existence here. It was just a mounting frustration that I decided to let loose on blogger.com. A moment of culture shock. Hopefully that is the worst of it.

In fact, the truth is that for every moment of machista-driven frustration, I have double the moments of inspiration and hope in our generation and our world.

For example, being told by a guy-friend that the reason he likes me is because I am intelligent and we have great conversations reminds me that not everyone here is how I described in the previous post.

T.I.M.

Or having a great day at La UTEZ. I started routine classes this week; icebreakers, conversations, attendance-taking. The work has made me feel very positive. One of the students in the advanced section on Monday even gave me a candy after class (Mexican equivalent to USA apple?)!




Or having a fun Mexican celebration. Here are 2 pictures of Laura and me on the night of the Independence day celebrations, in the street and with a goofy Mexican caricature.





Or, having an amazing couchsurfing experience. My gringa friend Laura and I travelled to Puebla, a beautiful city about 3 hours south of Cuernavaca, this past Friday. We went very last minute but were fortunate enough to find someone on the couchsurfing website to host us (non-profit organization to help travelers find hosts in destination cities). We stayed with a Mexican guy named Mario. He was the perfect host. He and his friend Manolo picked us up in the downtown when we arrived, took us to a café, then we went out to dance salsa that night.



Unfortunately my camera battery died after this, so I don’t have pictures of the next day, when he took us to a feria (outdoor artisan fair/bazaar) in Cholula, a town near Puebla, and to some famous churches and pyramids/ruins. Born and raised in Puebla, Mario was the perfect mix of historian, tour guide, friend, and gracious host. Laura and I had a bedroom to ourselves, and he cooked for us in his house. We spent the weekend having very interesting conversations about sociological issues like culture and generational differences, machismo, gender roles in our respective cultures, poverty, and much more. It was enlightening, a refreshing experience, and we now have a friend in Puebla!

WIA

Laura and I have also tried some to-die-for Mexican food, including huitlacoche (black corn fungus—trust me it is DELICIOUS) and a few candidates for best Mexican horchata! Here is a picture of Laura and our friend Jorge the day after Independence Day (back on Sept. 16), and a picture of the previously mentioned meal.





This past weekend, after Puebla for 24 hours, Laura and I bopped up to Mexico City to go to a party with a bunch of Fulbrighters in the city (there is a huge population of former and current Fulbrighters living there). I was pleasantly SHOCKED when I met a Kenyan! We chatted for a while.

The day after the party we spent the day in Coyoacan, neighborhood of Mexico City famous for the house of Frida and Diego. Charming, open-minded, historical and relaxed, it was the perfect setting for a lovely Sunday afternoon. We ate our way around the town (tacos al pastor—the best yet, churros filled with Nutella, the renowned ice cream of Coyoacan, quesadillas, horchata). Yummm.

WILT

I also purchased 3 cds off the street: "Laberinto en la guitarra," Baroque Mexican acoustic guitar music, "Antologia del Son de Mexico," and a compilation of Mercedes Sosa, a beautiful Argentine musician. I leave you with a gorgeous song by Mercedes. Enjoy.

ANTI-MACHISMO FEMINIST RANT

T.I.M.



I am really tired of being called bonita, linda, cute, hermosa, guapa, lo que sea. Whether or not it’s true is irrelevant. I am sick of being recognized for physical characteristics—I don’t care if you think I’m ugly or pretty or weird-looking; I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. I want to be recognized for what’s inside my brain, for my education and oddities and random thoughts and beliefs. The frequency with which I am recognized for my appearance is taking a toll on me. It’s to be expected since I am a novelty: an almost-blonde foreigner, but I’m wishing they’d just keep it to themselves. I wish I could tell these stinkin’ machistas, “blindfold yourself, then have a conversation with me.”

WILT

The bus ride home from school is great because I get to listen to music on my ipod and reflect on the day and my mood (which has a huge say in what music I listen to). This last bus ride home today I was feeling somewhat of a mix between rage and passion and anger because of the machista stuff I mentioned above. I listened to super-feminist Lilly Allen, and felt so satisfied and empowered when I listened to a certain song, that I even laughed out loud, wishing I could sing the chorus to some of the men in this world. (I can't post the link on my blog because it is a little explicit, no, very explicit.)

I have also been reflecting a lot on homosexuality while here in Mexico, for many reasons (the don’t ask don’t tell controversy happening in the States, the love of Lady Gaga here in Mexico, and the absence of visible gay couples here, to name a few). The presence of machismo also makes me think about homosexuality. I have come to realize how valuable a gay friend can be to a woman. I guess I should speak on my own experience, though.

So, one of my best friends from SJU is a gay man, and he was only ever my friend. Like, I never consciously thought of him as my “gay friend.” But now that I am living in a more sexist culture (“more sexist,” because let’s be honest the whole darn world is sexist), I am realizing how liberating it is for me as an independent, feminist young woman to have a gay male friend. I grew up with four brothers, so I value very much the companionship of males. But it is hard living in a male-dominated society (USA included), because as a woman, you can never REALLY know when a guy is looking at you as an individual or as a body with certain physical characteristics, whether he is a platonic friend or a stranger. So having a gay friend, I am liberated of that threat of objectification. Here in Mexico that feeling has become SO evident. I long for that kind of relationship, because I am so sick of being identified by my physical characteristics. It is not done in hostility or with bad intentions; it is just a playful way that many men have chosen to (and been taught to) relate with women (walking past a male in the University hallway today and hearing them say “cute teacher” in heavily-accented English, or having a male acquaintance refer to me as the prettiest teacher in the school with a smile and playful wink or gesture). It is not meant to be creepy at all, but I am absolutely sick of it. It is so patronizing and I feel disrespected when it happens.

So, I have never before felt so keen on listening to Lady Gaga, but I can assure you that she is the ultimate female-empowerer. So I leave you with an extremely empowering song by her. And if you are interested, check out the original video, though it is a little graphic.



Viva feminismo. Viva Gaga. :)

A Beautiful Mexican Moment

It’s been quite a while since I last wrote, no? I suppose I shall give you the highlights of the past week.

WIA

The highlights of my food experience over the past week are many. I tried my first tamal (singular of tamales) in Mexico. There is a woman who sells 4 varieties of them every day two blocks from my house. I foresee her reaping lots of business from me. Tamales are easily my favorite Mexican food. Hot sweet corn meal wrapped around spicy, juicy meat. Mmmm.

I also had my first “comida corrida” experience. Comida corrida (literally “running food”) translates to fast food. I had spent my morning at the Comision de Derechos Humanos, at a lecture on Human Rights, which was more or less a 2-hour criticism of the U.S. human rights track record. Yikes. Can you just imagine me sinking lower and lower in my seat as they discussed Regan’s support of terrorist contras in Nicaragua in the 1980s? Yep… that’s my country. Anyway, I was uncomfortable and starving after the lecture ended so I stopped in a little cocina in my neighborhood before going to school. The woman made me egg drop soup, fried breaded chicken breast, and a pasta salad with mayo and ham that is very popular here. Since I didn’t know what I was ordering, I waited until after I had eaten to ask her what everything was called. She answered, simply, “comida corrida.” Fast food.



Speaking of which, one of my students at La UTEZ told me that the McDonald’s employees are paid $1/hour. One dollar. Depending on the strength of the dollar, 12 or 13 pesos. And he said most of the employees have to clean up after closing the store, at such a late hour that they can no longer take the bus, and have to waste a chunk of their daily earnings on cabs home. Another reason to be proud of the U.S., eh?

WILT

In honor of the McDonald’s employees, I listened to this exceptional cover of “Working Class Hero” (originally by John Lennon) by Green Day. Give it a listen. They do a really cool thing in the last 15 seconds of the song, so be sure to listen the whole way through!



T.I.M.

This is Palacio Cortes. Hernan Cortes established a settlement in Cuernavaca and built this Palace for his home in the early 1500s.



Now imagine this building, in the dark, at around 11pm on a Sunday night, lit up in red and green lights (the colors of the Mexican flag). And imagine an 8-piece Mariachi band, violins and guitars, black suits and big black sombreros, practicing in the entranceway under the arches for a while before going out to look for work.

Now picture my Mexican friend Beto and I, the only souls around the Palacio (Palace), except for the Mariachi group, stumbling into their practice by accident and staying to listen for 25 minutes. Then imagine the Mariachi group inviting us to dance to the music while they formed a circle around us.

And finally, picture a large cockroach scuttling past the scene, illuminated by the red and green lights of the Palacio, pausing to listen to “Mexico lindo y querido,” and then scuttling away into the night.



True story.

T.I.M.

Tonight and tomorrow combined is the anniversary of the 200th independence of Mexico from Spain! I walked around downtown Cuernavaca this morning and it felt like Santa's workshop, teeming with people setting up for the Bicentennial celebrations that will start tonight! Venders, artisan crafts, huge stage in front of government building for concert, food carts everywhere, streets closed. Viva Mexico lindo y querido! As I prepare to go out to celebrate this beautiful country, I leave you with an image of the manicure I gave myself today.

Beatles and Stomach Woes

WILT

I awoke today with a strong urge to listen to the Beatles. So I listened to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band on my walk to the Comisión de Derechos Humanos (CDH) and from CDH to el centro, then I listened to Abbey Road on my way home from el centro.

I woke up bright and early, left around 9:45 and walked to the Humans Rights Commission (CDH-Comisión de Derechos Humanos) to look for volunteer activities. It was about a 10-15 minute walk. The morning was beautiful. Last night it thunderstormed at 2am, like rattling, booming thunder. Crazy. Luckily it didn't keep me awake for too long.

But anyway this morning was beautiful- fresh clean air and the sun was out. So it was a nice walk and when I arrived at CDH I was pleasantly surprised to see an extensive property with a couple different house-buildings and a pool in the middle! It is also situated in a very pleasant, quiet residential area. The people in the CDH were bright and friendly, and I told them that I had just graduated, was here teaching English, and was interested in becoming involved in some service opportunities 1-2 times/week. I met with one woman, Rita, in her office we chatted for a while. Everyone was extremely receptive to me, and we decided that tentatively I will come to CDH twice a week. One day I will offer an English workshop to the employees in the Comisión, and the other day I will participate in some sort of community project.

I feel great about this encounter, and am really excited to get to work on it. Fulbright is such a nice program… really, like TOO nice, that I actually began to feel like I was losing touch with reality for a little while here. Reading Tom Power's and Carla DeSisto's blogs about their volunteer years so far made me feel like I was greatly missing that part of my life, so this should be really good. I hope I can find a project that I'm able to do consistently; I would love to work as a mentor to vulnerable youth (ie/ street boys) or something like that. We'll see... This morning was a breath of fresh air and I can't wait to become more involved in CDH.

Anyway, back to what I listened to. The first song that came on my ipod after I left the CDH office was “When I’m 64,” which was ironic because the people at CDH had just invited me to accompany them to an elderly home. The second song was “Lovely Rita.” Quite appropriate, as the woman’s name was Rita who I had spoken with all morning. Cheers to coincidences.



WIA

Unfortunately, my diet today was restricted to water, bananas and plain white bread. You can read more about this unfortunate circumstance in the previous post. The good news is that I went out with my friend Laura (another Fulbright ETA) and Alison and Mike (Alison is a research Fulbright and Mike is her significant other). Alison gave me the phone numbers of two doctors who specialize in treating Montezuma’s pinche revenge. Pharmaceuticals are mad cheap here. Holler.

I would like to share with you something that I cooked yesterday. Nopales are cactus leaves. When cooked (boiled is the preferred method), their taste resembles a sweet pepper, with the consistency of… well, a sweet pepper I suppose. Maybe a little softer. I made them yesterday with eggs for breakfast. Here are the pictures.









Yesterday at work we (English language colleagues at La UTEZ) celebrated all the September birthdays. Everyone brought in something home-cooked. It was deeeelishus. Unfortunately, however, I am suspect to believe that it was this lunch that caused me so much grief in my tummy. But what was a girl to do? There was no way I wasn’t going to try the pork skin dish… Ah, the woes of adventurous eaters.

T.I.M.

While exploring downtown with the other Fulbrights tonight, we happened upon this sign. **A prize will go to the person who can come up with the best caption for this sign. Please post all suggestions in the comments section of this blog post.**

One never knows when Montezuma's Revenge will strike...

...Alas, T.I.M.

:(

(If you are unfamiliar with Montezuma's Revenge, google it and pray that you are never afflicted.)

Street food with a side of culture shock

Today I ventured to school on my own for the first time, using the public transportation system. Good thing I left an hour and a half early. I’ll leave it at that.

I also had a decent idea for blogging. In order to organize this mess of a blog a bit, I’ve decided to give most of the posts a format which will follow like this.

1. What I listened to (WILT)
2. What I ate (WIA)
3. This is Mexico moment (T.I.M.)

This way, my loyal followers will just about be inside my head, since such a large portion of my energy is spent on listening to music and eating. And, oh yes, the culture shock. Here goes my first post in the new format.

What I listened to
My good friend Salvatore sent me a song this morning that I listened to while I got ready for work. It is called “French Disko” by Stereolab. While psyching myself up for the impending adventure that would be the system of rutas (buses) I’d need to take to work, this upbeat and danceable song gave me just enough gusto to endure the (incorrect and excruciatingly long) journey. It also put me in the mood for more dance-y chick pop, so I listened to Philly’s own Santigold for the first part of the ride. Halfway through, when I realized I was on the wrong ruta I switched to a mix of the Kinks, still happy but a little less upbeat.



I interviewed another handful of students today, which really is for me the highlight of being at La UTEZ. I can’t wait to get to know the kids better.

For the ride home from school to Cuernavaca (another misstep), I listened to Pearl Jam’s Ten album. Chill and nostalgic, grungy and rough around the edges, but soft inside and hopeful for the future.

I sit here now in my apartment listening to the album San Patricio, a collaboration of the Irish band The Chieftains with various Mexican artists. The album commemorates the group of Irish immigrants who deserted the U.S. Army to fight on the side of the Mexicans in the Mexican-American War of 1846. My uncle Rick gave this to me this past summer, and it is wonderfully Mexican and Irish at the same time. It melts together the two musical traditions like the sweetness of lime with the spice of chile.



Speaking of which…

What I ate
After work, back in Cuernavaca, I tried Esquite for the first time. Holy guacamole this stuff is delicious!

Esquite is essentially corn kernels, fresh from the cob, boiled in water, then mixed in a cup with mayo, fresh lime juice, chile, chile powder, salt and shredded queso. My tongue is currently singed because I could not wait for the esquite to cool off before scarfing it down like a true gringo. Can’t wait to get this again. Cost: 12 pesos ($1) and a burnt tongue. Grade: A+

For dinner, fellow gringa Laura and I commenced our mission to find the best tacos in town. And guess what.



The tacos tonight had NOTHIN on the tacos from San Lucas in Camden, NJ. I ordered 2 tacos al pastor, which is supposed to be pork cooked with pineapple. Well, to start, these tacos had no pineapples, and the flavor was quite bland. I forget the name of the other taco, but the meat was pure fat. The tacos weren’t terrible, but like I said, my standards for Mexican food are quite high after being accustomed to San Lucas. (Hint, anyone who lives in Philly or Jersey had better check out San Lucas as soon as possible. Your life will change for the better.) The good part about these tacos: 4 pesos each (about 30 cents). Grade: D+



While walking around after tacos, I bought a juice at a fresh juice stand in the middle of one of the plazas. Papaya and banana. Yummmm. Just the sweetness and nutrition I needed to top off the day on a bright note. Cost: 18 pesos ($1.50). Grade: A

T.I.M. moment of the day
While sitting in the English language office area, in close proximity to a classroom where an English class was taking place, I overheard a professor demonstrating a sentence using the theme of the day’s lesson: calories. “You lose calories when you have sex.” T.I.M.

Horizontal Zigzags

This is the best visual I can come up with for describing Cuernavaca, my new city. It is a formerly quaint (now booming, population probably around 1 million) colonial city that resembles a community of multi-colored lego block houses situated in streets that snake up and down an intricate maze of hills and “barrancos.” Let me give you an image of the hills. Yesterday I walked to the supermarket, which is about 6 blocks from my house. Within these 6 blocks, I climbed 3 hills and went down 3 hills. That is how steep and frequent these hills are. Kind of like San Fran, but with narrower streets.

I was expecting a little town square and some scattered housing, since all the research I had done described Cuernavaca as a small city. I failed to take into account the size of nearby Mexico City, which is about 25 million. Of course Cuernavaca, a city of 1 million, would seem small compared to the grand capital city. But Philadelphia is also a city of 1 million, something to consider for a comparison.

I arrived here on Tuesday to torrential downpour, and could only “smh” as we passed the welcome sign: “Cuernavaca: Ciudad de la eternal primavera” (City of eternal spring). What of all the 70 and sunny talk? My tutor (supervisor/boss at the university) assured me that this weather was an anomaly, that the rain typically comes only at night during the rainy season. Sure enough, the next day also greeted me with heavy precipitation. The good part about this rainy season is that the abundant vegetation is in full bloom. Trees, grass, shrubs, and beautiful tropical colored flower bushes adorn every inch of the city, and complement the various colors of the houses and buildings. Both yesterday and today have been beautiful, sunny, borderline hot days.

My apartment is located just outside of the Zocalo, the center of the city and hub of action. I am very happy with this location, which will minimize the amount of taxis and buses I’ll take when going out for dinner or cultural events in el centro. My apartment consists of two rooms—sitting room/kitchen and bedroom—and a bathroom. Fully furnished. Backyard/garden area. Internet. Not a bad setup.

Today was my first day at work, La Universidad Tecnologica Emiliano Zapata, or La UTEZ. It is located in the smaller town just outside Cuernavaca called Emiliano Zapata. The school was founded in 2000 and built in 2001, so I was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful new campus. It sits on top of a hill, at the end of the bus routes, and through a large red and yellow stucco gateway which announces your arrival at La UTEZ. There are about 8-10 buildings, all of the same type stucco, with lots of green lawns and palm-ish trees. From campus, the view is stunning. Visible for miles and miles are valleys, framed in the distance by mountains. Within the green valleys, some hills comparable to the one that is home to La UTEZ house small towns and villages, comprised of architecture much like that of Cuernavaca. It is colorful and lovely. The bus to La UTEZ passes by a street just 2 blocks from my house in Cuernavaca. It takes about 45 minutes, which I don’t mind at all. I am actually looking forward to some ipod/book time on the morning and afternoon commutes.

I will be working Monday-Thursday (Fridays off, holla!) for about 3-4 hours each day, giving talleres (workshops) on English. Most will be conversation and speaking, but I would like to give some writing and literature sessions as well. Today I started the work I will be doing all next week: interviewing the students who are interested, in order to sort them into their proper level (beginner, intermediate, advanced). The students I met today—about 10 individuals—are very friendly, and I can already tell that they want to improve their English, so the classes should be fun and easy in terms of behavior. The ages ranged from 20-24.

(That is a picture of me waiting for Raquel to pick me up for work today- first day of school!) My tutor Raquel gave me an extensive tour of the university, which I cannot wait to show my mom and dad (especially Dad since he works in academia and attends conferences at various schools). Raquel has been superhelpful so far, picking me up in Mexico City on Tues., taking me to the Migracion office when I first arrived, showing me her house (“Mi casa es tu casa”), giving me tips on the city, and taking me to La UTEZ by car for my first day today. She introduced me to all the faculty at school and made me feel very comfortable.

La UTEZ tiene muy buena onda. (kind of untranslatable: La UTEZ has a very good feel to it). The student body seems vibrant and active. The campus is gorgeous. The faculty is very welcoming and helpful. Overall, I am looking forward very much to my time working there.