The Virgin and the Baby that Wasn't Born in December

     Yeah, I know, what a way to ruin Christmas by pointing out that Jesus really wasn't born in December.  But in a country as Catholic as México, nobody is really going to care.  Besides, Christmas here lasts almost until the month people think Jesus was born (March).  More about February 12th and why you don't want to eat your cake and get Baby Jesus later.  

The holiday  decorations started showing up around November 15th, and by Dec. 1st the poinsettias (nochebuenas) were out in full force.  People have lined the roads with their stands of piñatas and poinsettias, and I've been impressed by the variations in both products.  The poinsettias are mostly red, but I've also seen the white-flecked and green-flecked ones.  The piñatas range from HUGE to tiny, and I have to resist the temptation to buy one of each

 size.    

      On December 12th, pilgrims flocked to the Virgin of Guadalupe Basilica in Mexico City - many started some days earlier, walking or crawling.   The expression of faith was moving - so much energy towards one entity cannot be ignored. The Virgin of Guadalupe was proclaimed the Patroness of the Americas by Pope John Paul II in 1999, and the miracle of her image has been unexplained by modern science.  More info at: Our Lady of Guadalupe - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

      December 16th saw the start of the posadas, the very Mexican tradition that sprung from the combination of Aztec traditions of music, dance, and public religious events and the Catholic zeal to save souls.  Franciscan priests discovered that the local population liked to participate in the pastorelas, or religious plays, and from that the posadas, or the physical recreation of the journey of the Holy Family, became a common practice.  The posadas last until December 24th, which is the big day of the Christmas celebration.  Right now I can hear a posada party rockin' down the street - after the traditional call-and-response song, the posada recipients receive food from the host, and then the kids get to whack at piñatas.  

    I'll be spending Christmas in Oaxaca, with some friends who are trading the snowy Northwest for 75/80 degree Oaxaca weather.  One of the highlights will be December 23rd's Noche de los Rábanos, or the night of the radishes.  Not only can you eat them, but in Oaxaca you can grow huge ones and carve them.  I'll be sure to document the night thoroughly.   

T-day in México

I've invited my whole English department for a little cultural event at my house this Thursday.  They are coming after work; I am taking the day to cook.  Can't any American cook a turkey?  I hope so! Here's a running diary of the experience:

Oct 30- See ad on Cuernavaca expat listserv for organic turkeys. 

Nov. 8 - Decide to buy organic turkey.  Email contact, who asks me to pay for half upfront and the rest when we get the turkeys.  Is this something I would do in the States? I decide to go for it.

Nov. 9- Regina and I are truly not sure what day T-day is.  This goes on for some time, until a few days later we look at our American calendar.  Oh.  

Nov. 11- Meet turkey contact, who turns out to be a dynamic mom of 3 bilingual kids.  She is married to a doctor who is currently in Geneva.  I think this will turn out ok.  I hand over

 my 200 pesos. 

Nov. 14 - Plan menu, revise yams for a salad, since I can't find raw yams anywhere (I've looked in 2 towns).  Remind myself I will need to go to at least 4 stores to find everything.  

Nov. 22 - Guest list is up to 7.

Nov. 23 - Tianguis (store #1): buy veggies. Discard salad idea. No sage to be found.  Store #2: Look for turkey and pie pans and sage.  No luck.  Store #3: Find flimsy turkey pan.  Buy potato chips and beer - I'm going to need them this week. Start to worry about stuffing. 

Nov. 24 - Coffee/kitchen supply store (store #4) sells me a meat thermometer.  Espresso, frying pans, and meat thermometers- my kind of store! 

Costco (store #5) run for wine, butter (scratch that - all they have is unsalted), and of all things pumpkin pie!  I feel mildly pathetic for buying a Costco card, but the idea of being able to take pumpkin pie to my kiddos  makes me feel less pathetic.  

Turkey connection emails; the bird lands tomorrow, NOT Wednesday as originally scheduled. The pies suddenly look like a problem.  

Nov. 25 -  Eat potato chips and drink beer while waiting to pick up turkey.  

Regina goes to store #6 for butter and yams. 

Nov. 26 - T-minus 1.   Pies go to school and the Pilgrims are defrocked as robbing, land-loving interlopers (well, in my classes at least).  

    I bake the apple pie, improvising with a wine bottle to roll our my crust, (the hardest part was emptying the wine bottle, but we managed).  Discover oven appears to have a slight tilt forward.

Nov. 27 -  Turkey turned out beautifully, our Southern friend saved the gravy, none of the guests thought any of the food was disgusting, and we have left-overs (yeah!) :)

el 20 de noviembre

The 20th of November celebrates the beginning of the Mexican Revolution of 1910.  The ideals of the revolution were based on Zapata and other's beliefs in land rights (land for those who work it) and free education for all.  It was recently pointed out to me that every 100 years Mexico has a revolution (the independence movement started in 1810), so watch out travelers in 2010! 

      In my school we got the Monday off, and spent a few hours ensayando (practicing) the paso doble (a marching - and dancing- step), and the "at ease" and "at attention" required for the parade. Sounds like the military?  It did indeed sound like the military, especially with the PE instructor using his megaphone to shout out commands.  But having seen the same thing in Ecuador, I wasn't shocked (I definitely was shocked to see the kindergartners  in Ecuador marching military-style), and since I had a group to manage, I practiced my own pasos dobles... most of the time.  Mostly I busied myself to making sure they were in straight lines and that E.H. didn't throw rocks at M.P. and A.R. didn't keep switching lines.  I also kept thinking how getting kids in the US to do the same thing would be like herding cats - here the kids have been doing the same thing for years, so they're used to it.  

            On Thursday, Nov. 20th all primeros (first year, first semester prepa kids) lined up and marched out of the school to town, where we were joined by all the other schools (K-9).  We marched through town, turned around, and marched back, and at about 10 am we were done and the kids all had the day off.  Yes, another day off- but what a sight to see all the students marching through town with community watching proudly.  We could use a little civic pride like that.   

Death and the Lady

The month of August was dedicated in the Aztec tradition to the goddess Mictecacihuatl, "Lady of the Dead."  This goddess of death has come to be known as La Catrina in current Día de los muertos tradition, and she is portrayed as a sexy, bony skeleton dressed to kill.  

    Cuernavaca celebrated its 2nd annual La Catrina competition this year, and the Catrinas wer

e quite something.  Made out of a wire and paper maché body, their clothing ranged from an outfit made out of candy to a gold creation imitating the Ángel statue  in D.F.  While each had a skeleton head, they are in no way frightening or malevolent.  Rather, they are Death as a sex symbol, Death as a lady, Death as something you might not mind spending time with.  

     The other tradition that casts death as something other than terrible is the writing of calaveras.  Calaveras, lterally "skulls,"are verses that make fun of death, usually mixed 

with a politician.  The writing of calaveras were inspired by the illustrations of José Guadelupe Posada.

 

 "Death, " wrote Posada, "at the end of it all, is democratic, and everyone, rich, poor, white, brown, ends up being a skull."   He drew notable figures of his time as skeletons, and made popular the image of the Catrina with a flowered hat (image).  

      My students were able to whip out calavera rhymes in a matter of minutes, which impressed me.  Here are two: 

          Estaba la maestra Reed Scott                                      

          tomándose contenta su taza de arroz                          

          llegó el maestro Santiago                                             

         y del susto le dio la tos.                                        

      

                             - Medardo

        There was the teacher Reed Scott

         contentedly drinking her mug of rice

         Teacher Santiago arrived  

         And the fright gave her a cough.  

                              

          Estaba Rubi comiéndose un budín                          

         cuando de repente llegó la calavera                        

         y se echó un pedín.    

                           - Erick 

            There was Rubi eating a tart

            when suddenly Death showed up 

            and let out a little fart.  

                                                    (changed to keep rhyme) 

    

To me, the Catrinas  and the tradition of writing calaveras embody the Mexican ability to make fun of death, laugh at her, tease her, and ultimately, allow the love of life to triumph over death.  

Día de los muertos

     Many people in the US are familiar with the "Día de los muertos," term, or Day of the Dead, but I think what is often forgotten is the celebration behind the day.  We are so accustomed to death being equated with sorrow, fear, and all that is bad, that to rearrange one's cultural perspective and consider death as part of the journey of life, as did the pre-Hispanic cultures, can be a difficult shift.  The Aztecs and other indigenous groups set aside specific months for remembering and honoring the dead, and it was (and still is, in Mexico) believed that the dead came back during that time.  In the small town I visited, signs stating "Welcome Back Dad!" or "Here is your house, Mom!" were set up over the entryways to the houses that had ofrendas. 

The Spanish Catholic missionaries, who found the Aztec celebrations to be too light-hearted and, dare I say, flippant, in their attitude towards death, moved the Aztec August and November celebrations to coincide with the Christian celebrations of All Saints Day and  All Souls Day. However, their efforts to eradicate traditions of the Aztecs were in vain.   While the pre-Hispanic ceremonies have been shortened to 4 days (starting Oct. 28 and going until Nov. 2), the spirit of 

the celebration is still alive: it is a time to welcome back the departed, to help them on their journey, and to remember with joy the time they lived among us.  

     Each  area in Mexico has its slightly varied take on the day, but the staple of Día de los muertos is the ofrenda, or altar.  Altars represent the deceased, and often include their favorite food and drink, and a photo.  In Ocotepec, the town I visited, ofrendas for the recently deceased include their clothing laid out with a sugar skull at the head area.  Altars traditionally have the four elements of water, air, fire and earth 

represented.  Water is to calm the dead's thirst, fire, represented by the candles, to symbolize purification, wind, represented by the movement of the papel picado, and earth, often represented by the bread pan de muertos.  Copal, an incense made of resin, is also burned on every altar.  Here in Morelos mole, limes, mandarin oranges, and tamales are also considered to be standard elements.  

      In Ocotepec, the night of Nov. 1st is the night to welcome back the adults who have died (children are celebrated the days before).  Each family in the town creates a huge ofrenda to the deceased, and welcome in visitors, who follow the cempasúchil-marked path to the ofrenda. Cempasúchil is the Nahuatl word for marigold, which the traditional flower for the day.          

           As we entered each home, we gave our candle to a family member, stood before the altar in silence for a few moments, and then walked out of the room, where another family member handed us something to eat and drink.  The food varied - in some houses we were given slices of pan de muerto, in one house we were given a tamal.  The drinks were either a hot ponche of fruit or coffee.  Each house must have seen over 500 visitors that night.  

     After we visited the ofrendas, we went to the panteón, 

 or cementerio.  Candles, papel picado, and cempasúchil had been brought during the previous days to the children's graves, and many adult graves had been decorated as well.  We were not the only people in the cementary - besides other tourists, many family members had come out to sit beside graves and tend the candles.   Unlike a typical US graveyard, this one was alive with light, music, and people. 

     We returned to the panteón the next day.   The activity was amazing - families gathered to clean gravesites, place more flowers, and eat food together.  Teenagers and children hung out between the graves, and food vendors crowded the entrances to the panteón, selling everything from sandwiches to ice cream.   A twelve-piece band played most of the morning and a Mass was celebrated in the early afternoon.  

     Inspired by our surroundings, Regina and I set up our own ofrenda earlier this week.  Instead of cempasúchil, I placed roses in memory of Bobbi, an amazing gardener,and Regina laid out a dictionary in memory of her grandmother's love of crossword puzzles.    

     

Halloween in Mexico

   It was really like any other Halloween party - the devil and his angel girlfriend, a few witches, a Batman, his belly straining against his belt, a princess, and Abe Lincoln (from Salem, OR).  What set this party apart was the salsa/duranguense/merenge dancing (the men could really hold their own!), the tickets (70 pesos) to get in, the michealadas (beer with lime juice and salt) and the  unfinished "finca" (a large house with land - in this case, a large front yard).   People are ingenious in figuring out ways to make money here, and throwing a party is just one of the many, many methods used.  I had no idea Halloween had become so popular in Mexico - some people are concerned about its growing influence, and it's true that I have seen altars for the Día de los Muertos decorated with orange and black cats and pumpkins.  But in a city like Cuernavaca, where almost 90% of the people I talk to have been to the US, it will be impossible to keep all US culture at bay.  If anything, I think I'm glad to recognize that the US even has some culture to export - and of course, anybody likes an excuse to party.  How do you think the US ended up celebrating a small town's win in a battle against the French on May 5th? 

Dolores Hidalgo

Dolores Hidalgo was renamed after the war for independence in honor of the priest who started it all: Miguel Gregorio Antonio Igancio Hidalgo y Costilla Gallega Mondarte Villaseñor (a.k.a. Miguel Hidalgo).    The town is a mere hour bus ride from Guanajuato, so on our way back stopped in to see the church and the town where the famous "Grito de Dolores" happened on September 16th, 1810. 

In the picture, you can see a statue of Hidalgo with the church from where he made his famous proclamation for freedom.  Yes, his statue is wearing a toga - and no, that's not historically accurate clothing.  

   After declaring that the fight for independence was ON!, Hidalgo went to Guanajuato, where the first battle for independence was fought at the Alhóndiga.  Hidalgo was betrayed on March 21st along with three other revolutionary leaders, José Mariano Jiménez, Juan Aldama, and Ignacio Allende.  They were killed in June, and their heades were placed on the four corners of the Alhóndiga, where they hung until 1821, when Mexican independence was finally won.  

     The 200th anniversary of the Mexican Indepence is coming up in 2010, and there are electronic countdown markers in all the major cities.  Considering how the 16th is celebrated, the bicentennial will be a heck of a party!

Guanajuato

Guanajuato has always been one of my favorite cities.  Built in 1546 in a rambling, cobblestoned style reminiscent of Spain's Toledo, it is the capital of the state of Guanajuato.  The wealth of the silver mines was transmitted to its beautiful, Baroque-style churches.   The city is also famous for the Alhóndiga, a  fortress-like granary, that was the site of the first battle for independence in 1810.   The name comes from the native Tarasco word "Quanashuato,"(place of the frogs). 

     I first visited Guanajuato 16 years ago, at the age of 16.  I came with the other exchange students from my high school, and we visited 

the callejón del beso (with its famous legend of love leading to murder), one of the silver mines, and the mummy museum.  Much is the still the same in the city, although you can now only stand on one of the 

lovers' balconies.  

But the story of the callejón del beso remains: two lovers, she the daughter of a wealthy family, he a poor silver miner, fell in love.  The balconies of their houses were separated by a mere 30 inches - a distance their lips easily conquered.   Her father, upon discovering what was happening between the two, became enraged.  At this point, there are two versions: either that he killed her on purpose, or, discovering the lovers kissing across the balcony again, shot her lover and accidentally killed her.  Regardless, she, in her last dying moments, reached out her hand to her lover, cursing her father.  Some say her ghost remains, although the gift store that now controls the access to her balcony didn't mention any problems with ghosts!

      Guanajuato's Museo de las momias is probably one of the oddest 

things you can see in Mexico.  Akin to Philadelphia's Mütter Museum, it is a display of that which you do not normally see - in this case, desiccated bodies of the poor (including babies) whose families were unable to pay the yearly burial tax.  It's an odd experience.  

        

Guanajuato is the also the site for the annual music/art/theater festival, Festival Cervantino.  We stayed right in the heart of the action at a charming bed and breakfast called Casa de Pita (Pita herself made us breakfast every morning and entertained us wit

h stories of former guests).   Street musicians, modern theater groups, interpretative dance, a parade with elaborate costumes- you name it, we saw it.   The best part was that a good number of the musical performances were open air, so you could stand in the street and listen for free.   

On our busiest day, we went to one art exhibit, two museums, had lunch with Fulbright friends, went to the market, listened to parts of three open air concerts, watched an interpretative dance and theater performance, and ate a late night snack of tacos while listening to the estudiantinas, a group of university student musicians who lead a happily drinking crowd around the streets at night, playing music and singing the whole time.  

Cursos

With a little bit of cooperative learning, use of rubrics, and how to clean the computers mixed into the instruction, our course on the use of the language laboratory software began today.  The positives:

1. The software expert knew something about effective teaching methods. 

2. We got lots of  time to become familiar with the two programs we use, TellMeMore and EduStar. 

3. The English department (all three of us) finally got together!!!

4. Maybe I worked on my blog entries.  

The negative:

1. All the time to work has a price. It was decided that the best way to educate us on the software was to pull us out of our English classes for 5 days,  (approximately 6-8 hours of instruction per student group). 

2. I now know it is possible to be told to read the manual over 10 times in one training. 

3. Surprise!  This curso goes until 6 pm every day.  (We managed to negotiate a slightly different time frame for the other days, and I politely excused myself at 3 today, explaining I had prior obligations, which I did!).  

Jilotepec

            Without knowing exacty where we were headed, Regina and I left Cuernavaca on a 9:30 a.m. Pullman bus.  Three buses and five hours later, we pulled into overcast and rainy Jilo, a town of 40,000 (maybe?), where a fellow Fulbrighter, Jen will be teaching during her Fulbright stay.  If I had been able to find Jilotepec on the map, I would have realized we were headed north, and minded more Jen’s warning that it was cold!  After so many weeks in Cuernavaca, I have become used to “cold” meaning about 64 degrees.  Jilo’s chilly weather caught me by surprise, but Jen was a fabulous host – in addition to cooking amazing meals, she lent me her husband’s wool slippers, which saved me! 

            Jilo’s tianguis is the largest I’ve ever seen, with a huge array of products.  Need industrial toilet paper?  Check.  50 pounds of dried chiles? Check.  Baby chicks?  Check.  Electric heater? Check. (But it might not work, and be prepared to just stand there until they give you your money back, as we found out). 

            In front of the church in Jilo stretches a large area called “the garden,” where

 amorous couples check each other’s dental work.  Inside the patio attached to the church, a long rope dangled from the roof; at five o’clock a woman came out to pull it, clanging the church bell through all of downtown Jilo.   

          We spent a day with Kate, another Fulbrighter, in the tongue-twisting town of Tequisquiapan, where the weather was warmer and the church on the main square was hopping - we watched a wedding give way immediately (i.e., they were parked outside waiting for the bridal party

 to move their car) to a fifteen-year old's quinceñera mass.  

       In addition to travels, I've also managed to erase my iphoto library, although the fotos are there, somewhere, so we'll all have to suffer without a lot of visuals.  

          

I'm doing what??? part II

Monday morning, 7:30 a.m.  The campus is oddly quiet.  I find out why: classes have been cancelled, and the primeros (first year prepa students) are taking a beginning-of-the-year diagnostic test while everyone else gets the day off.  A chosen few - 13 - of us are going to be in a workshop all day to learn how to run tutorías.  I guess the exam prep and oral exams I had planned will have to wait.  Here is some data from my workshop today (yes, my math friends, I crunch numbers when I'm looking for something to occupy myself!)

Complaints (in the first hour): 17

% of people complaining (in the first hour): 53%

# of responses to complaints (in first hour): 3

       Avg. minutes people complained/commented: 2.87  

Longest complaint: 6 minutes

# of hours we were supposed to be in the workshop: 7.5 

   # of actual hours: 6.5

Oh yes, and by the way - we start tomorrow.  

¡Viva México!

El 15 de septiembre is the big night for celebrating Mexican Independence Day.  Fortunately for us, it was also the birthday of a colleague, and he took us out to celebrate both occasions.  Unfortunately, the teachers on strike have completely taken over the downtown zócalo (more power to them!), so the "grito," or re-enactment of Miguel Hidalgo's yell that began the fight for Independence against Spain in 1810, was cancelled.  Instead of doing it in Cuernavaca (the capital of Morelos), the governor went to another city nearby, Cuautla.   We ended up being in a club at midnight, which is when the President rings the actual bell Hidalgo rang to alert the town, and shouts out over the crowd in the zócalo a series of "viva _(insert name/ideals)_" that the crowd repeats.  You can watch what we missed at: 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=1524htZMVOM&feature=related

    We hada lot of fun dancing salsa and watching the waiters, who were all dressed up as girls.  I couldn't figure out a reason beyond giving them an excuse to dance with the singers of the live band.  I've always loved how willing to cross-dress Latin American men can be!  

    We were also treated to an appearance of  the famous Morelos chinelo dancers, who impressed me with their ability to keep dancing for hours under the weight and heat of a heavy costume. In fact, everyone's dancing ability was impressive - every single person here could get a job in the US teaching others how to move their hips.  My years of dancing here and there paid off, and I was able to hold my own on the dance floor, which basically means I didn't step on anyone's feet.  

Tepotzlán

Last weekend we went to Tepotzlán, a town known for its sacred energy and a pyramid that has survived over 500 years.  The town is beautiful.  It's small, surrounded by oddly shaped mountains, and has the best tianguis (market) I've seen yet.  It also is known for the wild variety of nieves, or sorbets, you can buy, although they were a bit too icy for my taste.  However, the flavors are exotic - avocado, tequila with lime, burnt sugar,  cactus, carrot, lettuce... It's quite a list.  

   We hiked up to the pyramid the second day we were in town - us and a crowd of day trippers from Mexcio D.F., who flood Tepotzlán on the weekends, looking for respite from D.F.'s smog.  The hike was a steep 2 km, and wound its way through thick forests and trickling streams to finally break through the trees, climb up a metal stairwa

y, climb some more stone steps, and reach the pyramid, where you have to pay 35 pesos to actually get on the pyramid. But it was worth it!  The view is beautiful, and although the sacredness of the spot is a bit muddied by the young couples making out on the side of the 

pyramid, the recent offerings left by believers made me feel like we were part of something bigger than ourselves.  The trail we climbed was the part of the original path the priests and their devotees climbed in the 1500's.  Wow. 

  

    Tepotzlán is also known for the elaborate entryway to the main church.  The arch that forms  

the entrance is redone every year with a seed mural.  Seeds of all kind -rice, peas, black beans, lima beans, you name it - are used to

create a religious motif showing the conversion of Tepoztecatl, the leader of the native group converted by the Dominicans, Christ's ascension, the Holy Family, and other stories.  

       Although we did not get photos of our auras taken

or a massage, or a tarot reading, or a henna tattoo, we did  met a lovely woman named Carmen from Oaxaca whose family owns a Tepoz business selling rugs  - and we are now the happy owners of two beautifully made wool rugs. This is definitely a town I'd bring visitors to!

Mug shot, multa

¡Éxito!  I was able to file my paperwork yesterday with the Instituto Migratorio.  The only hang-up: I was supposed to have registered with them before the 12th. The multa (fine) is about 450 pesos.  "But," I countered, "I was told to come back today." 

     "Who told you that?" the woman with my paperwork asked me.  

      "Er.... the woman who was working here that day. I could have come of Friday, which was the 12th, but she told me to come back here today, Thursday." I was using all my negotiation skills.  

      "What did she look like?" she narrowed her eyes at me.  

       "Um... she was tall..." I started.  

        "Tall?!"  she repeated, looking confused.  Oh, drat.  What does tall mean here? I thought.

        "Well, kind of tall," I said.  "With brown hair."

         Now the girl looked really perplexed, and a little suspicious.  "Brown hair?" she asked. 

        "Um, yes, pelo café," I said, using a different word for brown.  What does brown hair mean HERE? I thought desperately.  Obviously, our two cultures were at odds with physical descriptions.  

     "Momento," she said, disappearing into a back room.  A woman poked her head out of the door, looked at me, and disappeared again.  Moments later, the woman with my paperwork came back and started stamping things again.  

    "Is everything ok?"  I asked.

    "Oh yes, you're fine," she said.  "Sign here."

     Whew.  

     

    

Mug shot

    I wanted to register myself with the Mexican government, I wanted to get my mug shot, fingerprints, house address, and passport details safely filed away in some file cabinet. I really did.  

     Instead, my paperwork was turned away for a number of reasons:

     1. They want ALL the pages of my passport copied.  Yep, every single one.  Same thing for the FM-3 visa I have.   

   2. The paperwork I had printed out, although it was on legal sized paper, didn't quite match the margins they were looking for.  They gave me the form again, and I paid 25 pesos to a nice lady with a typewriter who does steady business next door the the Migration Institute.  (It had to be typed).  

             3. The other document I had dutifully filled out and printed from their website they didn't like the look of either, so I have to re-do that one, although I can fill it in by hand but must use BLOCK LETTERS.  

                                4. The woman behind the counter didn't want the receipt for the 606 pesos I had been told I had to pay. "You didn't need to pay that," she stated flatly.   I gaped at her, dumbstruck.  You could feed yourself for a month on 606 pesos.  

The one thing she wasn't too worried about was the timeline, and so next week I'll go back and try again.  

                              Betcha anything next week I'll be asked for that receipt.

                                

 

Feria de Tlaltenango

    The Tlaltenango Festival has come to a close, and the only sign that a full half mile of street was for days a huge, vibrant conglomeration of smells, colors, and people are the freshly trimmed tree branches along the road and the brillant facade of flowers covering the church that sat at the center of the festivities.  

    This year was the 288th year since the miracle sighting of "Nuestra Señora de los Milagros."  Stalls selling everything from staplers to finely embroidered Chiapas blouses

lined the street in a double row. When it rained, tarps mostly kept the rain off people's heads, but the street ran with water, in some places a half-inch deep.  Regina and I were both fascinated with the sweet breads, but leery about the freshness of them.  our doubts were confirmed when we saw the number of flies trapped under the plastic put over the food to keep the rain off.  The word "swarming" came to mind.  No thanks! 

     We now have two new mugs (we can now host 4 for breakfast and coffee!) and I met a woman from Otovalo, Ecuador.  I was able to dredge up a little of my Quichua and we both had fun speaking a language not usually spoken outside of Ecuador (and Peru, if you count Quechua).   My one regret is that I didn't buy a bottle of the potent yellow-hued "rumpope" that we tried - you can get it in the stores, but it's always more fun buying something like that from somebody who made it!  

I'm doing WHAT???

"Teacher," one of my students said to me as I was walking out to the parking lot to meet my carpool.  "Teacher, do we have a meeting today?" 

    "A meeting?"  I stopped.  It was 1:30, the end of my day on Tuesdays, and I couldn't think of any meetings I had been told about.  Which didn't mean much.

    "You're our asesora.  Are we meeting today?"

     By now I was surrounded by several eager faces, all looking at me expectantly.  

     "I'm your .... what?" I tried to smile back at them, but I had a bad feelings about this asesora business.  

     "You're our asesora. Do you want to meet with us today?" They looked like they wouldn't mind a free period,  I thought, and besides, I had no idea what an asesora's job was or why I was supposed to be one.

    "I'm going to need to get some more information," I said, "So no, we won't meet today."  

     My students didn't look too unhappy to have more free time, and as I met up with my mentor/carpool buddy Delfina, I sputtered the story out.  She just smiled.

   "I always try to get out of being an asesora.  The kids pick you, and they ask you, but I always say I'm too busy." 

    "What does an assesora do?"  I asked. 

    She launched into a description that began with the always-infamous "They just..."   By the time she told me about the parade I would be helping organize next Tuesday on Independence day (a non-work day) I wasn't so sure the honor of being selected by the class was quite worth it.  Organize part of a parade?  Keep track of 37 student's grades and behaviors in their 6 classes in the two 50 minute periods I have free during my teaching week?  Be a counselor to them without neglecting my other 175 students?  Help them file complaints against other teachers, if need be?  Meet with the group once a week during my off hours?  Hmmmm....... 

     (to be continued)  

School, Week Three

Classroom: Some of my students have begun to "sacar las uñas," or bare their teeth, as we might say in English.  However, armed with my glare (which needs no translation) and my favorite phrase this week: "We have 6 problems.  We have 4 problems.  Now we only have one problem,"  we have managed to get along alright.  As usual, there is always one class that gives me the opportunity to run through all my tricks, and I trust eventually we will gel.  Wednesdays are my long days- 8 to 3 with just the 9:40 "breakfast" break, but I get a chance to perfect the lesson.  I got a few new students this week, we worked with numbers, the alphabe, and role-played "useful phrases" in the level one classes and finished the "I used to" presentations in the 3rd year class (whew!)  This weekend I am tackling the job of entering all of my 200-plus students into my grading program.  Since everyone has 4-6 names, I'll have to be creative in my entry method (or spend 2 days typing!)

         Strike: The strike came home to roost on Monday when classes were cancelled for 3 hours, starting at 9 am, for a union meeting.  I was surprised the kids stuck around, but when we finally got out, most of my students showed up for the classes I had left.  The meeting began with a presentation by the union representatives about the current situation with the Alianza document, but then (after about an hour) transitioned into complaints about union transparency, union hypocrisy, retirement issues, and the main concern, which is how and when people get placed in vacancies or are advanced within the system.  Most teachers are paid by the hour, and the system for being able to get more hours is perceived to be one of favoritism.  Like most meetings that get a little out-of-control, there was the constant vocal critic, the constant wisecracker, the measured critic, and the people who walked out.   It was really only part-way into the second hour that my mind started to drift into how I would like to be in my classroom teaching the verb "to be."

        The third hour was dedicated to deciding whether we were going to strike or not.  The union representative was very clear: I cannot make the decision for you.  I can only carry the message of what you decided to the union.  You need to do this on your own.  

    Final decision: we will make a sign to be carried during the marches by people on their non-teaching hours.  We have all paid 20 pesos to be used for the materials.  

    It was also decided to not cancel classes for the rest of the day (which, as I was told, is normal to do after union meetings), because the local town is having a feria, and there was concern the students would leave school and go drinking.  

    The next day classes were cancelled at 2 for another meeting dealing with administrative issues.  

        Social:  A colleague had Reg and I over to his house for lunch this afternoon (I forgot to warn her that lunch meant we wouldn't get home until 9 pm!) and we had an amazing meal and got to spend time with the best-behaved 1st and 6th graders in all of Cuernavaca!  We were sent home home with apple tamales and a salsa so spicy it probably makes your hair grow faster as it tries to distance itself from your mouth.  

D.F., home to 23 million

D.F., or México,  as many call it, emerges from the greenery that separates it from Cuernavaca to stretch out in an endless roll of white buildings shrouded in smog.  Blue sky peeks through each day, but even at the ground level one can see how the air thickens into a brownish hue.  We went into D.F. to get a box of teaching materials I had mailed to myself at the COMEXUS office, and stayed 2 nights to take advantage of all the city has to offer. There is enough to see and do to last a year of mail pick-ups!

     The Bosque de Chapultepec offers a welcome respite from the busy roads and hoards of people. Formerly a bathing spot for Aztec royalty, the park covers a 4 km square area and contains the current presidential palace (Los Pinos) as well as the former residence of conquitadores, French royalty, and Mexican presidents: el Castillo de Chapultepec.  

                The Castillo sits at about 7,000 feet above sea level, so it's a bit of a climb 

to get to the top.  Inside, however, the reward is an amazing museum of Mexican history, including the popular story of the 6 "Niños Héreos," military cadets who defended the Castillo against the American invasion of the capital in 1847.  All six boys died, and are now national heros.  

        El 16 de septiembre is coming up, so the streets are full of stands where you can buy all the Independence Day decorations you would ever want.  It's a huge celebration here, with 2 days off from school and a midnight celebration the 15th.

       We spent the second night with a co-Fulbrighter and her fam

ily, who have become friends of ours.  She is also a high school teacher, but is teaching middle school, which is run very differently from the high 

school level.  Her husband, armed with the Lonely Planet and a Mexico 

City guidebook, served as our tour guide of their area, and we spent the day exploring Coyoacán (Frida Kahlo's neighborhood)

 and shopping in artisan markets.  They are the only Fulbright family with kids to have come this year - we're looking forward to visiting them again and getting our "auntie" fix!

     

  

A few lessons learned...

1. If the woman at the ticket counter says she doesn't have a credit card machine, even though she's looking at you like you're stupid, it may mean that someone else at the same counter with the same company has a machine for credit cards.  

2. If someone says the bus passes by a certain street, it may mean just that (not that the bus actually stops)

3. Don't stress out about your students missing a few hours of your class because you were pulled out for a meeting; nobody else worries about it! 

God did not come in peace

The Cortés Palace rises above the Cuernavaca streets with the solid walls of a building that means to stay for awhile.  Its varied history goes back to the earliest settlers of the area, the Tlahuicas, whose pyramid was razed by Cortes in 1522 to make room (and provide some building blocks) for his palace.  During its lifetime, the building has been a textile factory, a jail, and government offices.  It now houses a museum showing the history of Morelos and its people.       

 The museum does not mince words on the impact the Spaniards had on the locals.  Branding irons are displayed right next to North America's first modern public clock, which was imported from Europe and installed in a Cuernavaca church.  The concept of time was not the only divide between the Spanish and the local cultures; religion, and the Spanish determination to make the "New World" one for God and the Queen, led to to the destruction of local religious buildings and forced traditional beliefs to go underground, leading to an effect called sincretismo, which is why sheaves of wheat are carved in churches in Guatemala and the sun in Ecuador. 

        A Tlahuica poet in the 1500's wrote this poem:

                        

You say 

         that we do not know 

         the God of near and close

to whom belongs the sky and earth. 

       You say

  that 

  our gods are not the true gods.

         These are new words,

         those that you speak,

   and they disturb us, 

         they dismay us, 

         because our forefathers, 

         those who were, those who have lived here before, 

         did not speak to us like this. 

         They told us 

         that the rules of life, 

                         those that they held as true, 

    respected, 

   and honored the gods.

       (my trans. from Spanish) 

  

    Diego Rivera, the great Mexican muralist who also happened to be the husband of Frida Kahlo, channeled the angst of the 

Mexican indigenous people in his mural, which adorns an outer balcony area of the palace.  

    (See my photos with descriptions for more Palace coverage)

Morelos teachers on strike! (but not my school)

First of all, the linguist in me wants to know if this is a paro, or a huelga?  I've been told by locals that both terms apply to the current situation, and I've been (with equal sincerity) told that this is only a paro, and that it will become a strike if it goes on for much longer.  Here in Mexico a paro usually refers to a work stoppage regardless of whether or not the work was paid, while a    huelga refers to a work stoppage of paid work.  

    Regardless, the K-9 teachers of Morelos (and some other states,

but we're the big one) are not at work, and haven't been since the start of school.  If it goes on much longer, the prepa level (where I work) may end up going out on strike in support.  

   And why?  It has nothing to do with salary, and everything to do with a document called the "Alianza por la calidad de educación."  It's kind of like the Bush/Spellings NCLB rigamorole we've had to put up with in the States, except imagine if 60% of the schools in Oregon went out on strike to protest the law.  Yeah, pretty 

impressive, don't you think? 

    Regina and I happened to walk right into the activity on Friday - the downtown of Cuernavaca is the main gathering place, 

and by now, all the downtown routes are blocked off by the strike action, and drivers have to take the long way around the city to get anywhere.   (Interesting note: there doesn't seem to be any attempt to move strikers out of the main square - the police have set up wooden barriers, and everyone except cars has access to the downtown area).

       On Friday we again (without meaning to) ended up right in the middle of the action, this time overlooking the march of about 20,000 teachers, students, and parents who had gathered to protest the law, which they say is a move to privatize public education and reduce the rights of workers (sound familiar?)  Most people wore red and black, which are the traditional colors of any worker on strike here in Mexico (yep, striking is so common there is even a strike dress code!)

  "¡El pueblo, unido, nunca será vencido!"  (The people, united, will never be divided.)  Now ain't that the truth.  

Favorite line from a telenovela

Mother (to teen-age son): From now on, you're going to have to take care of your own clothes, your own room, and there will be no more money from us!

Son (with face of shocked anguish): No, no, you can't do that to me! 

What does the boob tube tell us about who we are?

In 13 minutes of TV commercials during the soap opera (telenovela) hour, the commercial breakdown was: 

Cat food: 1

Razors: 1

Life insurance: 1

Visa card: 2

Medicine: 2

Feminine products: 3

Commercial chains: 2 (Avon, Pizza Hut)

Cell phones: 2

House cleaning products: 2

Mouth care: 3

Hair: 4

Public service announcements: 6

TV shows: 8

And finally..... 

Food (with a noted focus on fiber to cure constipation):9

In summary: The national ad corps believe that hair, bowel movements, community events and what's next on TV are important to the women in this country

Missing from the usual US line-up:car commercials and pharmaceuticals

What does food cost?

Yes, it's cheaper to live in Mexico - but it's all relative.  The average teacher in 2005 only made about 8,150 pesos a month.  At today's exchange rate that's about $800 USD.  I've also heard of a lot of teachers who worked for free in order to "prove" themselves as they try to placed in schools.  

  Some other facts: the gross domestic product per capita in Mexico is $10,751 USD (Source: United Nations).   

     As a comparison, the USA GDP in 2007 was $45,800 (Source: CIA Fact Book).

    Basing a teacher's salary on a 10 month work-year, and assuming there was a slight raise in the average income (let's say 5% since 2005) the $8,400 USD earned would put 

Mexican teachers significantly below the GDP rate. 

    But what can you buy with $800 USD?  The 4 plants and 3 pots I bought last weekend for $4 USD.  The slew of veggies and fruit cost $7.80 USD.  Eating out will run you between $3.50 USD and $8, with a drink included.  Utilities are expensive.  For example, we pay  about 500 ($50 USD) pesos each month for a cable/internet combo, which is not much compared to the US but is 6% of your gross income if you are only making $800 a month.  That's a lot of money!   Compare that to a US individual who pays $100 a month for a cable/modem connection, but makes $3,000 a month: the cost is only 3% of his/her total income.  

Silver mecca: Taxco

Taxco, unlike Cuernavaca, has clung steadfastly to its colonial charm, aided by being labeled as a National Heritage site in 1990 by the Mexican government.  Building codes require old buildings to be restored and new ones, from the Oxxo (a type of 7-11 store) to the 

Pemex gas station, to use a colonial style.Known for its silver, Taxco charms the eyes as well as the pocketbook; we strolled for hours

among the labyrinth of streets, and could easily go back for another day.   Although the silver mines, originally mined by the Spaniards with forced local labor, are almost depleted, you would never know it from the quantity of jewelry, beads, and other silver items available.  

      We visited several churches, and each had its own style.  The Santa Prisca is known 

for its Churrigueresque style, which made me

think of the Spanish plateresco style. Inside, a huge altarpiece made of stolen gold soared over 50 feet up, decorated with cherubs, saints, and other religious motifs. 

    

Regalitos de mis colegas

     I am so grateful for all the support people have been offering- my mentora switched classrooms with me, so I didn't have to change rooms in the middle of my marathon day, and during my one 20 minute break during the 8 am-3 pm day another colleague brought me cheesecake.  Also, the maintenance guys are going to buy and install a new white board in the classroom I share with my mentora this week - a purchase I was able to make happen thanks to Fulbright.  My mentora helped get the ball rolling with the purchase, which I think would have take double the amount of time in the US compared to the time it's taken here.  She and I are also working on creating a professional library with the books I brought, again with thanks to the maintenance team, who are going to make us some bookshelves.   ¡Mil gracias, colegas!

First days of school

Luckily for me, we had electricity when I was in the computer lab on the first day of school; my colleague Delfina was not so lucky on the second day, although we did get power back to the most of the school towards the end of the day.  One of the other teachers on the 5th semester team took her students so they could work on math in his classroom, and letting kids out early and starting later than the schedule says is not really that big of a deal.  The first day I was taken by surprise when one of the administrators stuck his head into my room at about 2:55 and said, "It's 3 o'clock!" (the schedule says we go until 3:10 but like much of time in Latin America, that's a flexible piece of life).  Luckily for me my students have been incredibly attentive, but I have a feeling I've already been noticed for teaching "too long"  - a product of my American culture's attentiveness to time deadlines.  I'll work on letting some of that go.  

   My classes are big, but nothing I haven't seen before - 35 in each of my FIVE lower level sections (the students are the equivalent in age to US sophomores), but only 19 in my upper level class.  I have students with special needs (but no IEP's), a teen mom, and the usual mix of goofy, serious, sweet, and high and low level students in one class.  During the break we have at 9:50-10:10 every day (again, a time with flexibility) one of my students dropped in to ask me if I had toilet paper she could use - none of the bathrooms are equipped with t.p., like much of Latin America.  I'll add that to my list of student supplies to have on hand, and our vocabulary list.  

   My colleagues have been great-  people drop in to check on me, I have been welcomed into the morning coffee group in the academic assistants' office, and a teacher gave me two brand-new dry-erase markers today.  These are prized possessions, since we have to buy all of our own materials.  

      One of the things that I don't know if I'll be quite able to get used to having to spend my own money to get things copied.  Some  teachers ask students to reimburse them, since teachers don't get paid much - between $500- $1000 a month.  Copies cost about .5 each, so I think I'll probably just adjust what I usually do and shell out my own money, since it seems unfair to me to ask my students to pay for an activity I have decided they should do - and a test you have to pay for?  "Here you go guys, this test will cost you 1.00" seems too much like drawing a parallel between financial means and academic success - and don't we have enough of that already?  Free copies now and then might just be part of  what I can offer my students during this unique year.  Although as I look at my class numbers - 180 students in the first year classes alone - I start rethinking how I might give paper tests.  One thing's for sure- there won't be any 6 page semester finals!

      Tomorrow is my long day - I see all six classes, with no breaks, and have to change classrooms!  Luckily for me, I don't have to teach on Thursday - a perk to the college model used at the school.   

    

Thunderstorms and Time

This evening we were startled by a massive thunder and lightening storm that lasted for several hours - the first booms were normal by Oregon standards, but then a deafening CRAK! and accompanying flash of lightening sent us scrambling to the window, convinced we would see the neighbor's house in flames.  It was the loudest thunderclap I've ever heard!  The thunder and lightening show went on for several more hours, and although the storm has moved away from the city, we can still hear rolling booms and see occasional flashes.  I'm surprised we haven't lost power- the lights only flickered once.

   Today was the last day of work before the kids come on Monday.  Here is what my schedule looked like: 

       9:15 arrive with my carpool

       9:15-10ish   Chat with the academic office secretaries, get my class schedule, which is not official until it has signatures (but will work for now), and get the evaluation schedule for the first semester. I find out we do not have classes at all in January, which is used for make-up exams for students who fa

iled first semester. I also find out we do not have classes this coming Friday (the first week of school).  

      10:-10:40 Sit in on a session with visiting college students who are here to learn about the school's agricultural and ecological mission; Wal-Mart is critiqued by the teachers for buying local produce cheaply and selling it at a much higher price in its stores.   

      10:40-11  Get into my classroom, clean dirt off walls, move desks and put up wall map - I am warned it will probably be stolen but I decide to take my chances (I have brought extra maps).   

       11 - we are supposed to have a staff meeting, but my mentor asks around and nobody is going to it yet, so we go into the computer lab, which is where I will be teaching first on Monday

      11-11:40 We work on figuring out the computer system, which is new to me and relatively new to her as well.  She knows how to get the 

machines working and monitor the student's computers, and together we figure out where the

instruction manuals are for the language program so we can create lessons and have students do speaking practice with each other.  

    11:45 - We decide to go see if the reunión is happening; it is, and we join our team for team planning 

     12-1:ish We work with our team (teams are by levels and then career focus) on paperwork for the year.  Conversation is lively as teachers discuss concerns about students - Internet plagiarism, students not being able to read at grade level, lack of supplies for teaching subject, lack of security for materials in classrooms, concern about non-ecological use of paper (let's not ask for plastic covers, one teacher requests of group).  Each subject teacher goes around and states how their subject can support the other subjects (ex: in Reading class the teacher will work with students on grammar so that in English class they already know what a noun and verb is).  We don't finish, but next Friday when classes are cancelled we will have time to work.  My mentora and I both also teaching levels attached to other teams; I'm not sure when we'll be working with them on the paperwork we have to fill out.  

     1:00  Return to academic secretary office, eat flan that one of them has brought to sell.  I get information on an American student for whom I will be helping coordinate a community service project for starting next month. 

     1:30  Finally return to my classroom, where I have not yet finished with labeling chairs with colored numbers for grouping on the first day.  

    1:50  My carpool has to leave; I am not yet done, and will come in on Saturday to finish with my classroom.  I am feeling a world away from Harry Wong's "First Days" philosophy.