Realizing Mexico

Haha so I said I’d try and get this post up by “the end of the week,” almost a month ago! Well…lots has been going on and let me try to fill ya in…

Guachimontones. An ancient, pre-Columbian site about a half hour West of Guadalajara. It has some of the world’s only round pyramids—most have a square-base shape like the Egyptians, Sumerians, Mayans, etc. Here, they are rounded, with a stepped-formation to the top. There actually isn’t a name for the people that lived there, because the whole site is such a recent discovery (10 years ago) that not much is known about them. Unfortunately, when the highway was built some years back, it was reported that there were “stepped” formations in the ground, but it was paved over due to haste and a lack of knowledge of the site. So, another of the pyramids is probably under the highway, not to be recovered. Anyhow, it was a beautiful site, and a great time, and since I didn’t take any pictures, you can check it out on wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guachimontones) or just do a google image search.

Family is central down here. And I knew that before coming down here, but I hadn’t experienced that, you know? It’s almost as if my aunts and uncles are surrogate parents, my first cousins as big brothers and sisters, and my “nieces and nephews” (2nd cousins) are like the little brothers and sisters I never had. Really. It’s very different, but very homey. And I never would have anticipated it would change me like I feel it has. My family really has “grown” down here, and I feel as though I’ve grown in proportion to it—each new brother and sister, each new parent, each new niece/nephew has become a part of who I am.

The fiestas here. The days of last month are referred to as “las fiestas de Octubre.” (I’m not going to translate that…because…all you do is switch the “r” and “e” in Octubre.) There are different holidays for different towns, different saints that are celebrated, combined with regional and national celebrations during October. Monday the 16th was Columbus Day, and man do they celebrate the heck out of the day. The day that marked the beginning of the genocide of native peoples on two continents, their subsequent rape, exploitation of their land, death by foreign disease, and enslavement. I asked my Tia where are the Native Americans to “celebrate” this day. She pointed to the small group of Indians on the TV, and I responded by joking the government paid them off. Columbus was a product of his times, in part: the age of imperialism. He was following the model of his predecessors in other parts of the world: enslave and exploit the locals. Anyway, this where you tune out because the “college boy” is going on a rant borrowed from authors and professors, so I’ll stop myself.

Back to the fiestas. Here in Zapotlanejo, the whole town turns out for them. The other week was 9 straight days of fiestas, where a bunch of taco and snack stands were out, “Banda” bands walking around playing for whoever pays them, and fireworks. All this takes place mostly at night, centered around “the plaza” here: the open space downtown, with a little gazebo where everyone congregates. I’ve already started to see people I know from school or mutual friends when I go to the plaza at night—it’s a fairly small town. All in all, it was pretty fun. Except for the fireworks at 5am each morning. That was enough to make me want to walk outside my house with a bat in search of the culprits.

What’s also been good is the realization of the world that travel brings. Being a sheltered American not having been to Mexico for 10 years before moving here, I had stereotypes and preconceptions about this place before coming here. I’ll confess: I thought it would be a bigger version of East LA with its whole aesthetic: the cars, the fashion, the language, the culture—but I am glad to say my naïve understanding was utterly proven wrong. Those are just aspects and products of Mexican-American culture. Once I travel I remember/realize that the cultures I’m used seeing, and the view of the world I’m used to having is obsolete, for the reason that it is uninformed.

Here, this place is a completely different culture from those in the U.S.—it is a separate country. It is a different Mexican culture than any Mexican culture I was familiar with in the States. And I have loved realizing this; it has been a similar awakening experience as when I lived in Ethiopia. The world is bigger than our preconceived ideas and limited experiences. (Or at least mine.) One reason why I bother talking about any of this at all, is that I’m hoping it’ll inspire some of you to travel, and realize that some assumptions are off-base until those experiences are had for ourselves.

Just a warning: I might get a little soap-boxy, or rambling sometimes (one of the meanings behind The Rambling Nomad) about my opinions…but if you know me, then you know that that’s how I get sometimes.

I do have much more written, just not “published” yet…so I’ll try and be more prompt about getting that up on here soon! Coming soon: Day of the Dead, Learning a language and teaching a separate one, and a list of "First-Time" Experiences in Mexico!!

I’ll wrap up with two quotes I really like right now:

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.” –Mark Twain

“Deje el mundo cambiarle y usted puede cambiar el mundo.” (“Let the world change you, and you can change the world.”) –Ernesto Guevarra

An Expat in the Making

The busy sounds of the street in my small town swarmed around me, entering my ears and my eyes. All of us characters in this scene were bathed in the orange-yellow glow of the streetlights. The cobbled road, at some times paved, other times patched, wove around me, toward and away from me all at the once. The swimmers of these avenues blazed by on their 100cc motorpeds, the cars barged through as if no one was there. Somehow they always managed to avoid each other. I saw it—a gasp there, an exhale there—the scene breathed like the entity it is. The late hour didn’t discourage the other figures from playing their roles in this scene, the sidewalks were well traveled and the streets busy. Shops were open—come in, come in!! It was late, and I was tired from a day of work, so after playing my role in the night, I left the stage and headed home.

But what is home? Cause it sure feels like this place and these people are becoming my new home. Is “home” just a place that shifts around, depending on our experiences? Is it that people that make the place special? Cause I know of a lot of special people in certain cities in the U.S., but there’s a lot of special people here in Zapotlanejo.

I guess you don’t feel like an outsider when you’re home. Or at least, as much. Or maybe you do feel like an outsider because you’re estranged from your ‘home.’ I don’t know. I still feel like an outsider here. The language barrier is the most noticeable aspect of this estrangement…but I really like living here, and with these people. Everyone should try it. Go somewhere new and different and fall in love with the place. Or at least with the local form of alcohol (cause let’s be honest, no matter where they are, humans the world over since time immemorial have discovered ways of creating the stuff).

I guess I was ready to go, ready to move, ready to be a part of the world in one of its small corners, in a small way that means something to me.

A friend recently asked me if I’ve gotten a different perspective on life yet since I’ve been out of SB. I guess you could say: yes, definitely. Santa Barbara can be a bubble (for those of you Santa Barbarians: I’m saying it can be, not that it has to be). And I felt as much while I was still there, but it doesn’t sink into the reality of your life until you leave. I’ve just been reminded how it’s a small town, and how there’s so much more going on out in the world; and while in Santa Barbara for an extended period of time, it’s easy to forget about that. Since being here in Mexico, and starting work at this school, I’ve been all the more reminded of what I’ve wanted to do for so long, and I feel this is the first (big) step in a series that will take me where I’m headed, wherever that is. You gotta jump off and dive-in sometime, and I feel as though I have finally done that. I have know idea where this will ultimately lead me, but I like where it’s going. I know that much. And I know it’ll be a windy road, unpredictable, adventurous, fun, perilous—but that is exactly why it must be taken. I’ve got no other choice. This is my one shot.

And, I’m beginning to get the feeling that it will probably be a long time before I return. Yes, OF COURSE I’ll visit and stuff, but I’m talking about moving back. I’ve got the feeling that I’ll come back for grad school. Yes—there, I said it. Grad school. I know I want to go now. But I need more time to figure out things first, and I think that can only happen while I’m “away.” Like I was trying to articulate above, living abroad is just something I’ve got to do right now.

I misspelled “pageant” in my last post. That irritates me.

I mentioned getting a job at a school…well I have and it’s been going really well. It’s a private language school, and the students I work with range from high-schoolers to working professionals in their 30s & 40s. Class sizes range from 2-7 people at most, so it’s a pretty intimate working environment with with the students. There is also a computer lab which supplements their learning with a surprisingly comprehensive language program. I’m starting off teaching conversational English classes, which are aimed at getting the more advanced students to practice the English they’ve learned, using everyday topics. I only teach a couple hours a day, but I spend my rest of the time at the school working on a manual for the teachers to use to teach the various grammar topics, which I will start teaching in about a week or two. It’s been a bit of a learning process for me, as I’ve had to brush up on and re-learn a lot about grammar and the English language. I really like working with the students, and I get along great with the other teachers. While there are other teachers from the U.S. there, I’m definitely the “whitest” one in the sense that I am the one most recently arrived from the States. As such, they’re in the process of coming up with a nickname for me.

I’ve got another entry in the works that I’ll probably post up before the week is finished. It’s about the family, fiestas calling out into the night (every night this month), and the super-ancient pre-Columbian culture site I visited. Until next time!