June 28 - July 1: Acapulco
July 1 - July 5: Mexico DF
July 5 - July 8: Pittsburgh and Cincinnati to attend weddings, with a quick stop in Chicago on my way back
July 8 - July 14: Mexico DF
July 14: Back in California
This makes me both very happy and very sad. Six weeks really is nothing.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
On race
I have alluded to the racial tension in Mexico in previous posts, but I'd like to address it here a little more directly. Mexico has an incredibly diverse indigenous population: it ranks third in the world in the number of primary languages spoken, trailing only China and India. Only 70% of the country speaks Spanish at all. Add to this the historical occupation of Mexico by white Spain, who chose to enslave the indigenous population to support their colonial industries (unlike the US, who chose to exterminate the indigenous peoples and import her own slaves). While upward mobility in Mexico is possible, it is much more difficult than in the US given the relatively weaker status of the middle class. All together, this means a society with a considerable, historically entrenched separation between rich and poor, often following racial lines and with a considerable language barrier.
This tension is less apparent in DF, but outside the district limits the bipolar animosity is much easier to identify. In Tlapa, local distrust was not limited to foreigners, but to lighter-skinned Mexicans as well. In a single day walking through town with a fair-skinned Mexican medical student, we watched as our guide was approached by a drug addict, then had to haggle with a local law enforcement officer to allow us to ride back to the clinic in the bed of a pickup truck, a commonplace mode of transportation for the locals. For Tlapans, it's not just that you're not Mexican; it's that you're not Tlapan.
As far from ideal as our racial scene is in the states, I certainly have gained some perspective here about the different masks behind which racism hides. At the very least, I do appreciate that the US manages to chase an imaginary ideal for its racial goals, rather than take the rest of the world as a benchmark like it does in so many other arenas.
This tension is less apparent in DF, but outside the district limits the bipolar animosity is much easier to identify. In Tlapa, local distrust was not limited to foreigners, but to lighter-skinned Mexicans as well. In a single day walking through town with a fair-skinned Mexican medical student, we watched as our guide was approached by a drug addict, then had to haggle with a local law enforcement officer to allow us to ride back to the clinic in the bed of a pickup truck, a commonplace mode of transportation for the locals. For Tlapans, it's not just that you're not Mexican; it's that you're not Tlapan.
As far from ideal as our racial scene is in the states, I certainly have gained some perspective here about the different masks behind which racism hides. At the very least, I do appreciate that the US manages to chase an imaginary ideal for its racial goals, rather than take the rest of the world as a benchmark like it does in so many other arenas.
Moving the Gente
I love cities, especially those with interesting and efficient public transportation. As much as I still weakly associate the Metrobus with the theft of my wallet three weeks ago, I am still in awe of how a city of this size manages to get people where they need to be, without having to rely too much on their overcrowded streets.
First, there is the Metro, a sprawling subway system comprising eleven lines plus a light rail line. The cars, interestingly, do not run on train tracks but on solid rubber tires, which makes the ride very smooth and silent if a tad slower than systems elsewhere. Pickpockets are common, however, and cars are packed to uncomfortable capacity during much of the day. At 20 cents US per ride, it's definitely the fastest, cheapest, and most dangerous way to get around.
Closest to me is the Metrobus, a bus that runs up and down Insurgentes, a major street that cuts north-south through the entire city. The Metrobus gets its own lane, so even if the Metrobus itself doesn't generate revenue it's probably in the city's best interest to have the system in place for emergency vehicles. Cost: 35 cents per ride.
Finally, there are the paseros, which Ben seems to enjoy a little too much. These small buses are bought and owned by private citizens, who make up their own route and drive it around themselves. Most of the routes are predictable, so it's not too difficult to figure out where to go, but it's a little intimidating at first since there's no map. Often one will have to jump on or off these minibuses while the vehicle is in motion, but that's almost enough reason in itself to try them out. Price varies by distance, but it's comparable to the aforementioned.
There are also many, many taxis circulating through th city, but with the amount of corruption here you never know whether the person behind the wheel is the actual driver, or a carjacker who uses the taxi to kidnap tourists for extortion. Yep, this city is pretty sweet.
Mexico DF pictures, which don't seem to fit anywhere else:
The Zocalo
The Basilica of Guadalupe. The picture is not slanted; the cathedral has sunk.
The tallest building in Latin America, and in my opinion, the ugliest.
The ruins of Teotihuacan. This is the Sun Pyramid.
First, there is the Metro, a sprawling subway system comprising eleven lines plus a light rail line. The cars, interestingly, do not run on train tracks but on solid rubber tires, which makes the ride very smooth and silent if a tad slower than systems elsewhere. Pickpockets are common, however, and cars are packed to uncomfortable capacity during much of the day. At 20 cents US per ride, it's definitely the fastest, cheapest, and most dangerous way to get around.
Closest to me is the Metrobus, a bus that runs up and down Insurgentes, a major street that cuts north-south through the entire city. The Metrobus gets its own lane, so even if the Metrobus itself doesn't generate revenue it's probably in the city's best interest to have the system in place for emergency vehicles. Cost: 35 cents per ride.
Finally, there are the paseros, which Ben seems to enjoy a little too much. These small buses are bought and owned by private citizens, who make up their own route and drive it around themselves. Most of the routes are predictable, so it's not too difficult to figure out where to go, but it's a little intimidating at first since there's no map. Often one will have to jump on or off these minibuses while the vehicle is in motion, but that's almost enough reason in itself to try them out. Price varies by distance, but it's comparable to the aforementioned.
There are also many, many taxis circulating through th city, but with the amount of corruption here you never know whether the person behind the wheel is the actual driver, or a carjacker who uses the taxi to kidnap tourists for extortion. Yep, this city is pretty sweet.
Mexico DF pictures, which don't seem to fit anywhere else:
The Zocalo
The Basilica of Guadalupe. The picture is not slanted; the cathedral has sunk.
The tallest building in Latin America, and in my opinion, the ugliest.
The ruins of Teotihuacan. This is the Sun Pyramid.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Tlapa
Tlapa is an impoverished community hidden in the mountains of Guerrero, a state south of DF most famous for its coastal city of Acapulco. Its name hints at its pre-Spanish origins; this was one of many communities that helped the Spanish to overthrow Aztec rule, only to become enslaved by the conquistadores they had just helped. Today, Tlapa is the commercial center of the region, which is not really saying that much at all. Without any remaining industry, Tlapa exists now only as a lost town surviving on government subsidies. Many of its inhabitants speak no Spanish. Its main source of legitimate income is money sent home by men who have migrated to the United States to work, mostly in New York City. However, most of its revenue comes through the narcotics trade, making this area a rather xenophobic and anti-American part of Mexico.
Arriving in Tlapa, I was at first surprised at its size. I was expecting a rural village; instead, we found a city with 70,000 inhabitants. Colorful taxis, pickup trucks, and paseros drove people through dilapidated streets and the dried-out riverbed, where families set up tents to sell their wares. State guards with automatic rifles stand on street corners and stray dogs roam the dusty side roads. We did ride the mobile healthcare unit to the smaller populations in the mountains to find scenes more similar to what I had expected, but it became clear that few people in DF actually know what Tlapa is like, which explains why we were given so little information about it.
This is not to say that adequate healthcare is not a crucial issue for this town. It may not be rural, but Tlapa is still very poor and its inhabitants do not trust the hospital, which has a reputation for allowing patients to die. The other source of healthcare is a clinic run by medical students on their mandatory service year. They are excellent people, and do their best given what they have, but there is no accountability for standard of care.
Oh, and I was slightly relieved but mostly disappointed to discover that there were, in fact, no scorpions in Tlapa.
Bus stop
The mountain town
Children by the well
Children posing near the clinic
Arriving in Tlapa, I was at first surprised at its size. I was expecting a rural village; instead, we found a city with 70,000 inhabitants. Colorful taxis, pickup trucks, and paseros drove people through dilapidated streets and the dried-out riverbed, where families set up tents to sell their wares. State guards with automatic rifles stand on street corners and stray dogs roam the dusty side roads. We did ride the mobile healthcare unit to the smaller populations in the mountains to find scenes more similar to what I had expected, but it became clear that few people in DF actually know what Tlapa is like, which explains why we were given so little information about it.
This is not to say that adequate healthcare is not a crucial issue for this town. It may not be rural, but Tlapa is still very poor and its inhabitants do not trust the hospital, which has a reputation for allowing patients to die. The other source of healthcare is a clinic run by medical students on their mandatory service year. They are excellent people, and do their best given what they have, but there is no accountability for standard of care.
Oh, and I was slightly relieved but mostly disappointed to discover that there were, in fact, no scorpions in Tlapa.
Bus stop
The mountain town
Children by the well
Children posing near the clinic
Friday, June 15, 2007
Achilles' Heel and The Yellow Dart
The sixth addition to the med student crew here was Shaina, who arrived last weekend with Caley. Their first day in Mexico, the three of us met to check out the University and walk around Coyoacan, an old town that was originally south of DF but has since been absorbed into its ever-growing metropolitan area. Caley and I ended up wearing the same thing: black tshirt, blue jeans, brown walking shoes. We didn't realize we were twins until we had left the house (I promise!). Shaina showed up in a bright yellow sweatsuit with matching shoes, swiftly earning herself the nickname "The Yellow Dart."
And so we walked through the city, the African American Yellow Dart flanked by her matching bodyguards, a short Asian with spiked black hair and an Irishman with curly brown hair who is quite possibly one of the 50 tallest people in all of Mexico City at the moment. At times, she would pause to take pictures with the locals, or search for skin products in the stores. The bodyguards would silently abide. I was probably smiling the entire time.
Tuesday, the six of us went out to celebrate the birthday of The Yellow Dart. This time, the Dart chose a low cut dress consisting of teal, pink, and leopard print sections. Now, I should note here that The Yellow Dart is not an unattractive person. Mexico has noticed. At our bar table, we were quickly joined by some Latin men inviting us (well, at least the Yellow Dart) to their house in Acapulco for the weekend. Their leader, a man named Aquiles Cervantes, brought over a backgammon set and proceeded to "teach" the Dart, clearly a thin excuse to stare at the Yellow Dart's chest for an hour. Of course, we were able to get a number out of Aquiles by the evening's end. So, if any of you want to spend a weekend in Acapulco with a man named Aquiles, let us know!
And so we walked through the city, the African American Yellow Dart flanked by her matching bodyguards, a short Asian with spiked black hair and an Irishman with curly brown hair who is quite possibly one of the 50 tallest people in all of Mexico City at the moment. At times, she would pause to take pictures with the locals, or search for skin products in the stores. The bodyguards would silently abide. I was probably smiling the entire time.
Tuesday, the six of us went out to celebrate the birthday of The Yellow Dart. This time, the Dart chose a low cut dress consisting of teal, pink, and leopard print sections. Now, I should note here that The Yellow Dart is not an unattractive person. Mexico has noticed. At our bar table, we were quickly joined by some Latin men inviting us (well, at least the Yellow Dart) to their house in Acapulco for the weekend. Their leader, a man named Aquiles Cervantes, brought over a backgammon set and proceeded to "teach" the Dart, clearly a thin excuse to stare at the Yellow Dart's chest for an hour. Of course, we were able to get a number out of Aquiles by the evening's end. So, if any of you want to spend a weekend in Acapulco with a man named Aquiles, let us know!
Beware of the Scorpions!
Monday we will leave for Tlapa for 5 days. Tlapa is a rural community to the south of Mexico City, about a 7 hour drive on a winding country road. Apparently the temperature reaches the 40s C during the day. The whole point of the trip is to learn about Mexico manages health care delivery to the poorest of communities, but just like most other things on this trip, the program hasn't really elaborated on what exactly we are doing. They did, however, hold an info session for us, during which they outlined their main concerns in order of importance:
1) don't go out at night
2) beware of the scorpions
3) don't drink the water
Of course, I got a huge kick out of hearing "¡Cuidanse los escorpios!" but I guess there have been problems and close calls in the past. It is the rainy season, after all, and even arthropods have to drink/bail out of flooded burrows.
1) don't go out at night
2) beware of the scorpions
3) don't drink the water
Of course, I got a huge kick out of hearing "¡Cuidanse los escorpios!" but I guess there have been problems and close calls in the past. It is the rainy season, after all, and even arthropods have to drink/bail out of flooded burrows.
Monday, June 11, 2007
New Roommate
Caley arrived this weekend. We share a room. Our beds are about 24 inches from each other. It's pretty sweet.
Actually though, it isn't so bad; so far we've gotten along really well. He knows the city and the language better than any of us and he's enthusiastic about hanging out with us. He also reads before bed, which has gotten me to start reading myself. I brought along books, after all...I just neglected to unpack them until now. So I've started the Kite Runner, which from what I hear is about as cheerful as Brothers Karamazov, the novel I finally finished in May.
Let's see...more about Mexico. I've been surprised to discover just how expensive things are in DF. Most things are around 80-120% of their US price. Some things (like prepaid cell phone credit) are much more expensive, while others (alcohol and public transportation) are much cheaper. Since my *ahem* donation to the Federal District of Mexico last week, I've been much more careful to only bring as much money out as I think I'll spend. So far, I have rarely overestimated and in fact have often come up short. So: travelers beware!
Speaking of said donation, some guy found my wallet and is asking money for it. He rejected an initial offer of $10 US. Considering the bank cards are cancelled, I would much rather go through the hassle of replacing my IDs than meet this guy somewhere in the city. So, he can keep it.
As a parting note: I finally caved and ate the street food, against some people's advice and following others'. My stomach said yes, but my large intestine said no. But more recently, I tried it again with minimal consequences. Take that, food-borne bacteria! I'm immune against your ass!
Actually though, it isn't so bad; so far we've gotten along really well. He knows the city and the language better than any of us and he's enthusiastic about hanging out with us. He also reads before bed, which has gotten me to start reading myself. I brought along books, after all...I just neglected to unpack them until now. So I've started the Kite Runner, which from what I hear is about as cheerful as Brothers Karamazov, the novel I finally finished in May.
Let's see...more about Mexico. I've been surprised to discover just how expensive things are in DF. Most things are around 80-120% of their US price. Some things (like prepaid cell phone credit) are much more expensive, while others (alcohol and public transportation) are much cheaper. Since my *ahem* donation to the Federal District of Mexico last week, I've been much more careful to only bring as much money out as I think I'll spend. So far, I have rarely overestimated and in fact have often come up short. So: travelers beware!
Speaking of said donation, some guy found my wallet and is asking money for it. He rejected an initial offer of $10 US. Considering the bank cards are cancelled, I would much rather go through the hassle of replacing my IDs than meet this guy somewhere in the city. So, he can keep it.
As a parting note: I finally caved and ate the street food, against some people's advice and following others'. My stomach said yes, but my large intestine said no. But more recently, I tried it again with minimal consequences. Take that, food-borne bacteria! I'm immune against your ass!
Friday, June 8, 2007
Gelo. Mai nem is Maicl. Wat is yur nem?
Last night over dinner I had a long conversation with Vicky, our maid. Domestic service is common in Mexico; I believe all our host families have someone to help cook and clean the house. A casual chat about ourselves and our families and homes developed into descriptions of major US and Mexican cities, climates, and subcultures. I haven't spent much time in Mexico other than tourist traps, and Vicky has never been outside of DF or Oaxaca, her birthplace. Soon we began Vicky's first English lesson. My limited knowledge of linguistics prevented me from adequately explaining phrases like "where are you from?" and "pleased to meet you." I had just as much difficulty teaching English in Spanish as Vicky did learning it. Finally, we came up with the idea of spelling things phonetically in Spanish, as in the title of this entry. This helped a lot. I'm not going to say the typical "English is such a stupid language" because I do adore it, but man is it difficult to teach from scratch.
In other news, one of us was robbed again, this time on the subway. Only 100 pesos (<$10US), but still. I may have to start taping money to my torso.
In other news, one of us was robbed again, this time on the subway. Only 100 pesos (<$10US), but still. I may have to start taping money to my torso.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
¡Cantan, no lloren!
We're all going to the Mexico v. Paraguay fútbol match tonight! Alas, I brought no red or green flares, nor gigantic Mexican flags.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Assessing the damage
I lost:
One (1) credit card
One (1) ATM card
One (1) California driver's license
One (1) Northwestern Wildcard student ID
One (1) health insurance card
<$20 in US cash
~1 week's worth of spending money in Mexican pesos
a rent check I wrote for Ben that I was going to give him here (we're living together next year)
I still have:
my passport
a checkbook
about a week's worth of money in $US
a cell phone
The cards have been cancelled, I'll replace my DL when I get back home, and the loss of the rest of the contents is an inconvenience but not an emergency. I still have the means to prove my citizenship, obtain money through the checkbook (the University here has an American account), and survive until said money transaction clears.
By noon tomorrow I should have some money, and we can all laugh at my American traveller's stupidity. Until then, you may shower me with all the pity you wish.
One (1) credit card
One (1) ATM card
One (1) California driver's license
One (1) Northwestern Wildcard student ID
One (1) health insurance card
<$20 in US cash
~1 week's worth of spending money in Mexican pesos
a rent check I wrote for Ben that I was going to give him here (we're living together next year)
I still have:
my passport
a checkbook
about a week's worth of money in $US
a cell phone
The cards have been cancelled, I'll replace my DL when I get back home, and the loss of the rest of the contents is an inconvenience but not an emergency. I still have the means to prove my citizenship, obtain money through the checkbook (the University here has an American account), and survive until said money transaction clears.
By noon tomorrow I should have some money, and we can all laugh at my American traveller's stupidity. Until then, you may shower me with all the pity you wish.
SHIT SHIT SHIT
48 hours in mexico and my wallet gets stolen from my front pocket on the metrobus. goddamn fuck hell.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
La Madre
In my last post, I mentioned that my host mother is on the executive board of the Mexican Philharmonic Orchestra. That is incompletely true; actually, she is the General Manager of said ensemble, which means her name is the big one on the top of the program next to the music director's. As I also learned last night, she is an excellent composer and pianist, and has no qualms about attacking the piano at 11:30pm with her compositions. Today she took me out to breakfast with her friends ("las Viejas"), followed by a Philharmonic Concert.
The Mexican Phil is considered to be the best in Latin America. The players are not as first-rate as in the top American orchestras, but the ensemble blends together beautifully as a whole and responds well to the fresh interpretation of their young conductor. The concert hall is comfortable and relatively new with very good but not exceptional acoustics. Their sound is full and rich in the middle range, but the lowest instruments lack clarity, perhaps due in part to the spacious stage area. The concert experience as a whole is similar in many ways to those of Eastern European orchestras; the atmosphere is much more casual and there is a much closer connection between performers and audience members than in the distant-and-often-stuffy dynamic of more "formal" orchestras of America and Western Europe. I was pleased to discover that, also similar to Eastern European tradition, it is customary for the audience to clap rhythmically and in unison at the end of a concert to call for encores. I also found the season programming very interesting; the Philharmonic's summer season is a series of concerts documenting the inspirations, works, and legacy of Gustave Mahler, both as a composer and as the music director of the Vienna Philharmonic. Only of a few of the concerts actually include Mahler's works; the others establish the musical scene of Vienna before Mahler's rise to fame or demonstrate works by composers who are known to be inspired by Mahler's music. Still others are historical recreations of famous programs conducted by Mahler himself at the helm of the Vienna Phil. As a firm believer that concerts should not only entertain but educate an audience, I highly approved of the idea as a whole.
So basically my host mother not only has one of the coolest jobs in the music business IN THE WORLD, but she is also super friendly and is much more honest about expressing her excitement about having an English speaker with whom to practice su Inglés but realizing that she should speak to me in Spanish nonetheless. As she noted to me today in Spanish, "you landed in the perfect house."
The Mexican Phil is considered to be the best in Latin America. The players are not as first-rate as in the top American orchestras, but the ensemble blends together beautifully as a whole and responds well to the fresh interpretation of their young conductor. The concert hall is comfortable and relatively new with very good but not exceptional acoustics. Their sound is full and rich in the middle range, but the lowest instruments lack clarity, perhaps due in part to the spacious stage area. The concert experience as a whole is similar in many ways to those of Eastern European orchestras; the atmosphere is much more casual and there is a much closer connection between performers and audience members than in the distant-and-often-stuffy dynamic of more "formal" orchestras of America and Western Europe. I was pleased to discover that, also similar to Eastern European tradition, it is customary for the audience to clap rhythmically and in unison at the end of a concert to call for encores. I also found the season programming very interesting; the Philharmonic's summer season is a series of concerts documenting the inspirations, works, and legacy of Gustave Mahler, both as a composer and as the music director of the Vienna Philharmonic. Only of a few of the concerts actually include Mahler's works; the others establish the musical scene of Vienna before Mahler's rise to fame or demonstrate works by composers who are known to be inspired by Mahler's music. Still others are historical recreations of famous programs conducted by Mahler himself at the helm of the Vienna Phil. As a firm believer that concerts should not only entertain but educate an audience, I highly approved of the idea as a whole.
So basically my host mother not only has one of the coolest jobs in the music business IN THE WORLD, but she is also super friendly and is much more honest about expressing her excitement about having an English speaker with whom to practice su Inglés but realizing that she should speak to me in Spanish nonetheless. As she noted to me today in Spanish, "you landed in the perfect house."
Saturday, June 2, 2007
¡Ya he llegado!
Hello from Mexico DF! After a rather abrupt parting at customs, I am now with my host family and I can only imagine Sirisha is with hers, somewhere within a 15 mile radius from here. Two other Northwestern students, Ben and Adam, will arrive in the city tonight, and Caley and Shaina will arrive next weekend. Caley and I have the same host family and will share a room; the others will be scattered about the vicinity, hopefully within walking distance. The university being 8 miles from here, I don't know how realistic that expectation is, however.
My family seems very nice. Everyone seems to speak English better than I can speak Spanish, which is comforting for now but once we've fulfilled our initial curiosities about one another I hope we will speak exclusively in Spanish. This will be a lot easier when Caley arrives, since he is more fluent. The 23 year old son in law school is talkative and friendly, the father is retired (although I forget what he did before), and the mother is on the executive board of the Mexico Philharmonic. She is a music educator as well, and the house has a beautifully aged full sized Steinway grand. Their dog, Tango, has absolutely no inhibition and apparently loves guests. The house is old but cozy, and gets a lot of light through its large windows and glass ceiling. I think I am going to enjoy living here.
Some pictures of the house:
The glass ceiling
Yes, that is a tree growing in the stairway.
The red kitchen
My family seems very nice. Everyone seems to speak English better than I can speak Spanish, which is comforting for now but once we've fulfilled our initial curiosities about one another I hope we will speak exclusively in Spanish. This will be a lot easier when Caley arrives, since he is more fluent. The 23 year old son in law school is talkative and friendly, the father is retired (although I forget what he did before), and the mother is on the executive board of the Mexico Philharmonic. She is a music educator as well, and the house has a beautifully aged full sized Steinway grand. Their dog, Tango, has absolutely no inhibition and apparently loves guests. The house is old but cozy, and gets a lot of light through its large windows and glass ceiling. I think I am going to enjoy living here.
Some pictures of the house:
The glass ceiling
Yes, that is a tree growing in the stairway.
The red kitchen
Friday, June 1, 2007
I like to be in A-meh-ree-cah
My next post will be from Mexico DF, provided I will be able to find internet (otherwise this will end up being the lamest blog ever...). I have yet to pack, but I have accomplished all that I promised to in my previous post, including cutting my hair from short to even shorter. But considering that it will be the rainy season there, and knowing how my hair reacts to heat and humidity, every centimeter counts.
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