un mes

This week was a series of ups and downs.  I’ll describe them, literally, as such.

UP – last Saturday, for the first time, I felt like I had everything together in terms of feeling comfortable in my apartment. I spent the day shopping in the markets, picking up small things I needed for the apartment, and successfully buying meat, chicken AND fish!  By the end of the night, I felt this deep sense of satisfaction that I finally felt comfortable in my apartment, enough so to call it home.  It’s a small thing, but it means a lot.

UP – last Sunday, I hopped on a bus to Guanajuato to meet up with Fulbright friends visiting from Atlacomulco and a Fulbright friend who lives in the city.  Guanajuato is the capital city of the state I’m living in (also called Guanajuato) and is renowned for its cultural contributions and its natural beauty.  Not only is Guanajuato a stunning place (seriously, just look at the pictures), but laughing and bonding over lunch was cathartic in the best of ways. It’s amazing, how I only met these people for a week during orientation, but the conversations were so genuine and so real.

DOWN – last Monday, after realizing that I’m mas o menos (more or less) accustomed to living in Mexico, I didn’t have chores to distract me from the fact that I don’t really have friends here yet.  I forced myself to get outside my apartment and sat in the main garden to journal my feelings.  After seeing all the families, lovers, and children walk by though, I honestly just got sadder and ended up eating a lot of empanadas to feel better.

DOWN – last Tuesday, I woke up, swung my feet off the bed, and…. felt water?  I looked down to find a solid inch of water flooding my entire bedroom and half of my kitchen. The drain in my enclosed patio had stopped working, and it had rained a lot the night before.  The flood I woke up to was a result of water that had filled up the patio and spilled into the entire apartment.  Honestly, when I realized what had happened, the predominant thought in my head was, “Really?? REALLY?????!!!” I’ve had a lot of problems with water, gas, and hot water since I’ve gotten here, and it was a really, really  frustrating moment to wake up to.

UP – So that day, I poured myself into teaching and found myself bonding with my students.  I searched out a new cafe I had been meaning to try out, and I tried out a new gym (and sweat buckets, it was like Zumba on a stair master for fifty minutes straight.  I don’t think I’ll be going back, but it was fun to try something new!).  I didn’t head back to my apartment until I felt like I had cleared my head, and in the meantime, my wonderful landlord fixed the issue with the flooding.

UP – on Wednesday, I went back to Guanajuato, and spent the day exploring.  My school had a conference there, and they kindly brought me along so I could get to know the city!  I searched out the only Korean restaurant within a two hour radius of me and ate there joyfully!  I lost myself in beautiful streets and went to museums!  I drank Mexican hot chocolate and ate the most delicious churros!  Guanajuato reminds me of a colorful version of Granada, I’m in love with the city already.

DOWN – In a truly stunning twist of events, on Wednesday night, I had my first bout of food poisoning, mostly likely caused by the Korean food I ate (devastatingly, it was the only possible culprit). So that night, instead of going on a tour of the city with my school and meeting my Fulbright friend for drinks, I ended up sequestering myself in my hotel sadly (honestly feel betrayed by the Korean food, not going to lie).

And so here I am.  I’m back in Valle now, in the comfort of my apartment.  This past week, a lot happened!  A lot of ups.  Some downs.  The downs can get hard, but on the whole, I’m mentally doing well here.  What I’ve realized is important here, is to seek out my victories with intention.  When a down hits, I dig my heels and decide that “I need a fucking victory” – and so I go and find myself one.  Even if these victories are small, like going to a restaurant I’ve never gone to before, or buying a new kind of fruit, or walking a street I haven’t walked before, they’re victories to me.

What I’m realizing as I write this is that when you are alone and confused in a new country, the downs hit hard, in a way that shrinks your space.  You feel small, and lost, like you can barely move because you don’t know what you’re doing.  When you do do something, you feel like you’re doing something wrong.  And the downs will undoubtedly come.  Whether it be natural circumstances out of your control (like the earthquakes that have been hitting Mexico, or the small flooding of my apartment), or whether it be you getting inside your own head too much (journaling for four pages about how sad it is not having friends here probably was a little excessive), the downs will happen.

It makes it that much more important, then, to find the ups in your day.  Because the ups – they expand your spaces.  They increase your knowledge of the area around you, they turn an unfamiliar place into a story, they make you think,  I know how to do this.  The streets that seemed endless to me are becoming familiar.  Little by little, I walk the city and turn it into somewhere that resembles home.

One month is officially done.  When I think I haven’t gotten very much done, I flip through my journal and remember how much less I knew about Mexico a week ago, or two weeks ago.  But I don’t want to become complacent!  Over the next eight months, I want to keep extending my spaces in Valle de Santiago and in Mexico.  And I know, from studying abroad, that it’s going to get harder.  I’m anticipating that the novelty of being here will start to wear off, and that I’ll struggle more finding new ups to keep me buoyed.  But these difficulties, as frustrating as they can be, are a part of the experience.  They make you into a more compassionate human being.  They force you to laugh ruefully when telling these stories to friends, because when your life seems ridiculous it’s best to accept it as such.  They make you haul yourself up by your own, two hands – again and again.  And though you may say “Really??? Really????!!!,” these difficulties do give you a chance to move past them, and to find the next up on your own.

dolores hidalgo

(Soooo much has happened in the last week.  Another, more devastating earthquake in Mexico City, a severe cold that had me semi-out-of commission for the week, the one-month mark of my being here in Mexico….when I’m sick I hate to do productive things, so this blog post has been delayed so I apologize!)

Two weekends ago, I took my FIRST trip to visit another Fulbrighter, Rachel, in her town Dolores Hidalgo.  Dolores Hidalgo is a city in Guanajuato of around 50,000-60,000 people, most well known for being la cuna de la independencia – the cradle of Mexican independence from Spain.  It was here that Father Miguel Hidalgo stood on the steps of the main church and proclaimed the Grito de la Independencia – the shout of independence that officially started the Mexican war for independence.  Every year, Dolores has a particularly large celebration during Mexican Independence Day (for obvious reasons), and I had talked about it with Rachel during orientation that I was interested in going.  The Grito, as its called, is a public ceremony held across Mexico where leaders reenact the original Grito that Hidalgo spoke, all those years ago.

So early Friday morning, I hopped on my first bus at Valle de Santiago to get to Dolores Hidalgo.  I took a bus to Guanajuato, and then another one from there to Dolores.  The bus system in Mexico is excellent – comfortable, fast, safe, punctual, and frequent, with local and city buses connecting the entire country.  When I got to Dolores, Rachel met me at the station, and took me to her apartment.

Seen on the bus ride

It was so good to see another Fulbrighter again!  We sat at her kitchen table and ended up talking for a few hours about all of the things we had experienced in common.  We swapped stories of horrifying insects, discussed the issues/non-issues we were having with the food, bemoaned our lack of Spanish language, and wondered together how we would make friends in our small towns.  Valle de Santiago and Dolores Hidalgo, being similar in size, seemed to give us similar experiences.  It was a conversation like a deep breath – relieving in all the right ways, giving me the chance to laugh about my experiences floundering through Mexican life with someone who knew exactly what I was talking about.

We spent the afternoon walking around her city, and at night, met with Rachel’s tutor and headed to the jardin (garden) for the Grito.  Rachel’s university had gotten her tickets to seats that were in the central area, so we were right next to the main cathedral where everything was happening!  We sat and observed for a few hours, waiting for it to hit 11o’clock when the Grito would occur, listening to music, and people watching.  Every one was dressed in shades of red, white ,and green, with small children in traditional Mexican smocks.  Interestingly enough, there were also many, many people wearing fake mustaches – yes, the big, black ones, curled at the edges, that we associate with stereotypes in the U.S..

Main church in Dolores Hidalgo

When the Grito finally occurred, the governor, his family, and a number of officials marched to the front of the cathedral, rang the bell, and the governor recited the Grito to the mass of people in front of him.  Every time the governor shouted a phrase, the crowd would roar it back to him.  “Viva Dolores Hidalgo!” “Viva!” “VIVA GUANAJUATO!” “VIVA!” “VIVA MEXICO!!!” “VIVAAAAAA!!!!”  Everyone was swept up in the moment, and afterwards people flooded the garden, drinking and dancing and talking and laughing with family and friends.  Rachel and I spent time with one of the teachers from her school and his family, and finally made it home around 4AM.

After-party of the Grito!

On Saturday, Rachel and I took a bus to San Miguel de Allende (an hour’s distance from Dolores Hidalgo).  San Miguel is a town renowned in Mexico for its expat population, beautiful streets, and touristy destination for locals and internationals alike.  And it didn’t disappoint – it was a beautiful place!  Rachel and I spent most of the day wandering around its colorful streets, art markets, and eating a delicious lunch.  When we got tired, we hopped on the bus and went back to Dolores Hidalgo.

Main church in San Miguel

 

After dinner that night, we watched a few Netflix shows together.  Rachel introduced me to Club de Cuervos and Narcos.  I don’t watch a lot of tv in general, but I really enjoyed those two shows, and with Club de Cuervos set in Mexico and Narcos set in Colombia, I’m definitely going to use these to brush up on my Spanish in my free time. On Sunday, I said hasta luego to Rachel, and then hopped on a a series of three buses to make it back to Valle de Santiago.

The trip was lovely.  Scenery-wise, Dolores and San Miguel were beautiful, and event-wise, the Grito was so much fun.  But even more than that, setting foot outside of my town, by myself, and spending time with Rachel in her town reminded me that I am doing this – that I am here in Mexico!  And talking with Rachel reminded me that I’m not alone in this.  That all of us Fulbrighters are struggling a little, adjusting a lot, and day by day, learning more and more.  Being able to laugh about our bug problems and the language barrier made these things seem much more surmountable.  And when I made it back to my apartment (the one that feels like home more and more every day), I had a deep sense of contentment that came from successfully navigating my first solo trip in Mexico.

Of course, I immediately got sick after this trip, so the past few weeks has consisted of a lot of sleeping, sniffling, and tissues.  But mentally, this trip put me in a really good place.  It’s all about extending my comfort zone – knowing I can travel around Mexico, of my own autonomy is a good feeling.

 

 

pasitos

This past week, I´ve been saying this word to myself a lot – pasitos, Catherine.  Small steps.

A view of my street

This week was filled with a lot of small victories.  I did laundry here for the first time.  I tried out two new cafes.  I located the three restaurants in the city with Asian food (two Chinese restaurants and one sushi restaurant).  I walked over half of the city.  I took the local bus for the first time, alone, and successfully made it to where I wanted to go.  I googled and effectively figured out how to fix my sink when the water started to taper off.  Mariel (one of the office workers) showed me where and how to buy meat in the market so I bought meat for the first time!!!!  She also showed me a GROCERY STORE (it sells Clorox wipes and toothbrushes and has aisles).  She bought me my first elote, and we sat in the central garden and talked for a long time.  I’ve been eating lunch with the office workers and trying all kinds of new Mexican foods.  My neighbors introduced themselves to me, I introduced myself to my neighbors.  I began my work in the classroom, starting with the conversation course for professors, which I’ll be leading this week, and I’ve been sitting in on another class while my official schedule is being made.

This week was also filled with a lot of small frustrations.  Before Mariel showed me how to buy meat, I don’t think I was eating enough.  It’s hard, navigating these markets and feeling comfortable enough with the food to eat consistently.  I also haven’t had much of an appetite, but not eating enough makes me tired quickly, which makes me feel worse.  The bugs here have also been driving me crazy….the mosquitos here are insane, and every insect is a little bit bigger than the ones in the U.S..  Bigger beetles, bigger moths, bigger crickets – smaller ants though, which invaded my kitchen and freaked me out.  My Spanish isn’t the best right now, as it’s been over two years since I studied abroad, and I haven’t had much practice during that time.  Mexican accents are also very different from Spanish ones, and there are so many small slang words I’m having trouble understanding them all, and expressing myself correcting.  My apartment, as lovely as it is, still doesn’t quite feel like home.

When I think about my victories compared to my frustrations, my victories seem so small.  I went to the grocery store!  I bought meat!  I drank a latte!  I’m impatient to get on with bigger victories, but I’m learning that I have to struggle through these first.  It´s so hard, learning how to do everything from scratch.  Almost anything I want to do, I have to ask about first.  How do I throw out my trash?  How do I buy water?  How does the postal system work?  Where can I buy bug spray?  But I keep reminding myself to be patient, that I shouldn’t see these small victories as being so small, that these victories are indeed victories.  I’m alone in a new place, a new country.  It’s going to take time.  I have to accept that I need help, and the office staff have been so kind in providing it.  And writing this blog post now, and seeing all that I did accomplish in the last week, I suppose I can see how exponential the growth has been, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

The main church in the center of the city

So small steps, every day.  I made a list of more things that I want to accomplish this week – among them are more pasitos like “figure out how to buy the big jugs of water everyone uses” and “go find a pizza restaurant.”  But this past weekend, I took my first trip to Dolores Hidalgo, where my friend Rachel is living, to celebrate Mexican Independence Day.  It was a wonderful trip – blog post forthcoming – and also reminded me that I can do this.  Even when things are hard, I’m still here, in Mexico, eating, traveling, working, and living.  Though I’m not quite thriving – I’m surviving, for sure, and I’m quietly confident that I’ll get to the thriving part soon 🙂

 

cositas 3

(Cositas noticed in and around Valle de Santiago, my hometown)

1. There are a lot of wild dogs in Mexico.  Ivan, my tutor, says that often when people don’t want their pets anymore, they put them on the street.  I see them on the side of the road, being shooed away by vendors, and trotting down the pavement.  I met one of my walk the other day and it was covered in flies and looked afraid of me.  I thought of my dog at home and it made me sad 😦
2. When you order food at smaller restaurants, sometimes food will come on plates covered in plastic wrap. Someone told me that this is because it’s easier and more sanitary for restaurants to discard plastic wrap for each customer rather than wash the plates.
3. There are four meals a day here in Mexico!! These are: desayuno, almuerzo, comida, and cena. Desayuno is eaten around 7-9AM, and consists of coffee and a pastry. Almuerzo is around 11AM, and seems to consist of tacos. Comida is a big meal around 2-3PM, and cena is a smaller dinner around 7-9PM. I  sooooo appreciate a country that makes time for more meals!!
4. Buenos días, buenas tardes, hasta luego, hasta mañana, buenas noches…the list of greetings and goodbyes goes on and on, and I hear them so often!  Whenever someone steps into the office, they’ll greet everyone, and everyone in the vicinity will greet them.  When I walked to school with one of the staff, she greeted every person on the way to our building. Being from the Northeast, we have a reputation for being colder and meaner than the rest of the U.S…. I don’t think that’s necessarily true, but I do know that it’s not as much of a custom to say hello to everyone in passing. In Mexico, it’s a custom I already appreciate, for its warmth towards other people.
5. The mosquitos here – I swear to god – are more vicious.  They also have faster reflexes, as there’s one in my apartment that refuses to be killed.  Currently hiding my legs under the blanket so I don’t get more bites!

A picture of my family’s dog, Teddy, because seeing dogs without homes makes me sad 😦

el mercado

(the market)

I’ve been here in Valle de Santiago for a little less than a week now.  In some ways, I’m starting to settle a semblance of a routine, but in other ways – I’m constantly reminded at how much I have to learn.  I think I can best describe this learning curve by using the markets as an example. There seem to be very very few name brand stores in my town – not even a Soriana (a Mexican stop and shop), and definitely not a Walmart. The biggest “name brand” store I’ve discovered so far is a Waldo’s, which seems similar to a dollar store. Instead, people seem to do most of their shopping here in outdoor markets. The big one of the town is right next to my apartment, a tented block of the city filled with vendors selling fruits, vegetables, shoes, cds, meat, tacos – really anything you could ever imagine. The spaces between vendors are narrow, and usually filled with teenagers, old grandmothers with canes and parents with wide-eyed babies in their arms.

When I went out on my first Sunday to buy food for myself, I immediately realized how much I didn’t know about being in Mexico. I felt like a child again – when buying vegetables, should I pick them out myself and then hand them to the vendors? Or should I tell the vendors what I wanted, and wait for them to hand them to me? I bobbed along, carried through the market by a sea of Mexicans who did know what they were doing and observed them until I figured out how to do it myself (turns out to be the latter). After, I went to a panadería to buy myself some sweet breads, and again, watched others until I saw what to do (take a tray and a pair of tongs, help yourself to what you want, and then bring the tray up to the counter to pay). Then, I walked home, clutching my limes and zucchini and avocados and sweet breads with the quiet pride of just having successfully completed a rather large adventure.

When I write it down now, I can imagine how this could seem silly to someone who hasn’t experienced this before – but I promise you, it’s not!  Right now, I’m in Mexico, surrounded by two languages I don’t understand – the language of speech, Spanish, and another, more subtle language – the language of customs, made up of a vocabulary of common knowledge that everyone shares but me. Of not being surprised by the shape of light switches, of knowing that toilet paper is not kept inside but outside of public bathroom stalls. Of knowing inherently when to cross the street when I personally can’t pick out a rhyme or reason to the traffic patterns, and of walking into a bakery with the confidence of knowing how to buy bread. Lacking all of these things, I’m stumbling through the small interactions – and when I succeed, even getting groceries is a huge success!

The culture shock here in Mexico has been the biggest I’ve experienced. Culture shock always happens when one travels to a new place of course, but here in Valle de Santiago, it’s particularly strong for me right now because 1) I literally knew no one in this town before coming here and 2) Valle has very little American influence – close to none, I would say. In the bigger cities of Mexico, you can easily find Starbucks and Home Depots and even Costcos, but in Valle, there is almost no familiarity when I look around – nothing that when I see it, I think, ahh, I’ve seen this before. And there’s no time that I’m reminded of this more than when I go grocery shopping.

But even though the culture shock has been real, I’m very content right now. Studying abroad gave me an appreciation for the time it takes to fall in love with a place. If I’m being honest, it took me a few months to truly love Granada. I liked the city, and it was very pretty, but to genuinely feel at home there, it took me a while. And with Valle de Santiago being my home for the next nine months, I’m confident that little by little, I’ll pick up on both the literal and cultural languages that surround me. And, besides, the quiet victories – of buying limes, of buying tomatoes, of buying bread, are so much more rewarding when you have to figure them out for yourself.

So I’ll keep going out to these markets, figuring out how to get what I need. I still haven’t bought meat yet – it’s much more intimidating when I have to figure out all the Spanish words for the different parts of an animal, as I stare at a cow that stares back at me. I also have to start creating a mental concept of how heavy a kilo is, for here produce is often bought in kilos instead of quantity. A vendor the other day, trying to help my helpless American self, loaded a kilo of limes onto a scale for me, and I politely asked for an eighth of that weight, for I cannot eat sixteen limes. There’s still a lot I feel lost about – but when I get discouraged, I go to the panadería at the end of my street. I take a plate and some tongs and pick out a few sweet-smelling pastries, and then pay for them at the counter. I bring them back to an apartment that’s already starting to feel like home and eat them happily at my kitchen table with some tea. It’s comforting, already having one thing that I know how to do very right!

 

valle de santiago

(Part one of many)

Welcome to Valle De Santiago, Guanajuato! This is a city known for its seven volcanic craters – dormant, of course – known as the siete luminarias. The population here is fairly small, with around 70,000 in the city itself and various pueblecitos (small towns) scattered around the farmlands that fill the area. It has an elevation of 5,700 feet, and a semi-desert climate that consists of a rainy season in the summer and a mild 75F year round. It is located around 4 hours from Mexico City, and is home to La Universidad Tecnologica del Suroeste de Guanajuato (UTSOE), where I will be working for the next nine months.

One of the main plazas in Valle

My tutors, Ivan and Pilar drove me from Mexico City to my new home.  They were quite wonderful, helping me stop at the grocery store and buy things to fill my apartment with, and making me feel comfortable as I transitioned.  I got to my apartment on Saturday, an apartment that Ivan and Pilar amazingly found for me!  (I honestly have no idea how I would have found an apartment by myself, I’m so grateful to them!!).  As soon as I stepped inside, I smiled.  It’s a brand new, furnished apartment with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a living room/kitchen area, and beautiful wooden furniture.  All utilities are included, and it costs me $1,500 pesos/month (approximately $85 U.S. dollars).  I’ll be sharing the apartment with the university’s French language assistant, who will be arriving in October.

I had my first day of school on Monday.  Pilar had mentioned to me that I would be introduced to the students as the English language assistant.  What I didn’t realize was that she meant I would be presented to the school at the beginning-of-year ceremony in front of 2,500 students and all the faculty.  I was seated on the stage along with the mayor of the municipality, the president of the university, and several other highly important people in suits.  I was wearing an American Eagle sweater and jeans.

For many obvious reasons, I didn’t feel like I deserved to be sitting on that stage!  I’m just a language assistant, after all, barely graduated from college and barely proficient in my Spanish.  I felt terrible that I was underdressed for the occasion.  I didn’t want the students to think that I didn’t care enough about the opening ceremony to dress properly.  But each speaker at the ceremony warmly and personally thanked me for coming to work at UTSOE for this school year.  Along with the mayor and the university president, I was handed awards to give to students who had excelled the past academic year.  The level of attention and care I was given was far beyond what I deserved.  The warmth of the welcome that UTSOE gave to me was extraordinary.

After the ceremony, I was introduced to many of the staff members and taken on a tour of the school.  Pilar, knowing that I was a biology major in college, asked the biology department to take me on a tour of their laboratories.  When I met with Susana, the director of the biology program, she personally explained to me each of the research projects that were currently being conducted on campus.  Again, I was astounded by the level of care she took in explaining each study to a random American girl she had met in that moment.  She accompanied me as another staff member took me on a tour of the laboratories (your typical microbio, chem, physics), and another staff member took over to show me around the greenhouses and fields.  I didn’t expect gifts, but he kept handing me vegetables, and so I left the tour of the school laden with tomatoes and peppers and flowers that I took home to my apartment.

On Tuesday, Ivan took me to Leon to get my immigration paperwork done.  I currently have a six-month visa that I needed to exchange for a resident card that’ll allow me to stay for nine months.  With everything going on with DACA right now, sitting in that immigration office was particularly poignant (if you want to read more about the DACA situation, read this or this).  I needed Ivan’s help to do everything – filling out immigration paperwork not only required my knowledge of Spanish (which barely understood what the immigration officers said to me), but my knowledge of Mexican customs.  For example, addresses in Mexico are structured a certain way that are slightly different from American addresses, and since I didn’t have data on my phone, Ivan had to look up for me how tall I was in meters and how much I weighed in kg.  How would I do this if I was alone?  If I didn’t have someone to drive me to the nearest immigration office (2 hours away), if I didn’t have someone with me who spoke Spanish fluently and understood how I was supposed to fill out my paperwork?

This week, there have been a lot of new things.  I’m in a new place, alone, figuring them out as I go.  But I think my first week can be summed up by this: on my very first day of school, it was also my birthday.  And each of the staff members gave me a hug and personally wished me well.  My office brought in a birthday lunch for me of tostadas, sang me the Mexican version of happy birthday, and hung up balloons and posters at my desk.  Almost exactly 3/4 of the 22nd year of my life will be spent here, in Valle de Santiago, and I have a good feeling about this place 🙂

Last note – there was a huge earthquake in the south of Mexico on Thursday night that killed at least 61 people (reports still incoming) and was the largest to hit in a century.  Thanks to everyone who reached out to make sure I was okay, I was far enough north that I didn’t feel anything, but please keep Mexico in your thoughts and prayers.

 

 

cositas 2

 

(Cositas noticed in and around Valle de Santiago, my hometown)

1. On the drive from Mexico City to Valle de Santiago, I noticed a lot more life that exists near highways than in the U.S.. Even on major highways, I saw people biking on the side of the road, lots of small shops, and goats grazing right next to the pavement with any fences.
2. When you’re at the grocery store, it’s polite to give a tip to the person bagging your groceries – around 5 pesos or so.  This does not apply to when you’re buying things from a vendor at the market.
3. Driving in Mexico is pretty intimidating!  Narrow streets and lots of cars make it hard to back out of a parking space, so there are people on the streets and in parking lots who will direct traffic to help you safely back out.  Again, a tip of around 5 pesos is expected for the service.
4. I’ve seen every few strollers in my city, which in a way, makes sense.  The sidewalks are narrow, the pavement can be bumpy, and the roads are filled with people.  Instead, the majority of the people I’ve seen carry their (adorable) children in their arms.  A few times, I’ve seen women carrying what appear to be enormous bundles of fabric, but are simply just happily swaddled babies.
5. Finally, I was at a mall food court when I saw a stall selling burritos with a donkey-looking thing as a logo….it took me a second, but I realized that the donkey was a burro, and that the word burrito in Spanish LITERALLY translates to small burro.  Mind. Blown.

cositas

(Part one of many)

Las cositas means little things in Spanish – and that’s what these cositas posts will describe.  The little things that I notice about Mexico, that from my viewpoint, are either new to me or different from what I’m accustomed to in the United States.  I didn’t want to call these posts las diferencias (the differences), because although the things I see may seem different to me as an American citizen, different, of course, is a relative term.  So, let’s begin!  Many of these things I saw in Mexico City during my orientation.

1. Hotels have specific benches in the rooms where you can put your suitcase so it doesn’t rest on the floor.  Personally, I appreciated this a lot!
2. When we sat down at restaurants, we often got chips and salsa as an appetizer, the Mexican version.  A.k.a. real tortilla chips made from fried tortillas and three to four types of salsa ranging from spicy to very very spicy.
3. Also at restaurants are what appear to be small coat stands propped up near each table.  I suppose you could put your coat on them, but they’re specifically meant for purses, so that you keep it in sight instead of putting it behind you where someone could more easily take it.
4. Renee, one of the directors of the Fulbright-Garcia Robles program, told us that in Mexico diminutives are used a lot.  In Spanish, to make something diminutive, you add -ito or -ita to the word to make it “smaller” and more cute-sounding.  For example, la planta – plant.  La plantita – small, cute plant!  I’ve definitely noticed Mexicans using this a lot in daily speech, especially with names – Martita from Marta, Carlitos from Carlos.
5. When it rains in Mexico City, it pours.  I’ve never seen anything really like it.  Not only does it rain like crazy, but rain fills up the holes in the pavement until streets turn into small lakes.  Bring your rain boots!

 

orientation

(Written a week late, but hey, better late than never??  As you can see, I’ve also decided to post some pictures!  Unfortunately, my wifi situation disagrees with me, so there’s only two. I’ll figure this technology thing out eventually.)

As my good friend Noah gently reminded me, it’s been a while since I’ve updated the blog… I told him just as gently to be patient (shout-out to Noah), and that I’ve been  journaling and have lots of things to write about – which is true!

Orientation took place in Mexico City from Monday to Friday last week, and it was so much fun.  I met a lot of people from across the country who all would be spending the next chunk of their lives in Mexico through the Fulbright-Garcia Robles Program.  I was particularly struck by how genuine everyone was.  Everyone there was diverse, smart, open, intelligent, and passionate about what they were doing.  We all came from different areas and fields – teaching, social work, medicine, business, research – but what we all had in common that we were all determined to spend this next year learning about Mexico in order to better serve in our careers and become more open human beings.  In a way, it makes sense that Fulbright was able to pick out such genuine human beings – if you’re fake about wanting to engage with other cultures, you’re probably not going to chose to go to Mexico.

Orientation was like a long Mexico 101.  We learned about food (apparently there’s a wrong and a right side to a tortilla?), about education, about safety, about culture, about language, about customs, and about much more.  The Fulbright commission was very thorough in the information they provided us, with many experts educating us on their fields. Some highlights from the presentations, and my thoughts are below: (quotes come from a collection of speakers that I scribbled down in my notebook, unfortunately with no names attached!)

• “Personally, I think it takes six years to truly understand a different place.”  I agree, though it makes me sad to know that I only have one in Mexico!  How, then, can I make this one year as intensive of an experience as possible?
• “Tourists disrupt the reality they’re supposed to discover, while travelers travel alone, with time.”
• Of all grantees in the 2017-2018 cycle, 52% are people of color, and 47% are white – the most diverse group in recent years.
• As I met everyone and talked to them about where they were going, I realized I am sorely lacking in Mexican geography.  Luckily, I brought a giant map with me to hang up in my room!  Mexico is a huge and diverse place, and I’m excited to learn more about it.
• The Fulbright grant is a joint grant administered by both the U.S. and Mexican governments – but it was pointed out for us at orientation that in the past few years, the Mexican government has been contributing more money to grantees than the U.S. government.
• “Teach your students about the values you have in the United States, and try to understand their values and their realities.”
• Fulbright also facilitated several cultural activities for us to start our learning about Mexican culture – we saw a Picasso/Rivera exhibit at Bellas Artes, went to El Museo de Arte Popular (Museum of Folk Art), saw murals painted by Diego Rivera, and danced salsa for hours!!

It rained every day in Mexico City

One thing that particularly struck me during orientation was something said by a woman who gave a fantastic presentation on how to educate students in Mexico.  The quote is as follows: “You are the people who are wanting to build a wall.  You have to come and show them what you really are.  You are the ambassador to your country, all the time.”

“You are the people who are wanting to build a wall.”  Those words hit me quite deeply.  During the entire orientation, the directors of the Fulbright-Garcia Robles program emphasized that as Fulbrighters, we are cultural ambassadors, responsible for engaging with Mexico as well as representing the United States.  And right now, as an American citizen, I do represent a country whose rhetoric is focused against the country I will be residing in for the next nine months.  This rhetoric does not represent my values, in any way.  But as an American citizen, I can imagine that I might be asked where this rhetoric comes from.  How do I answer a question that I myself grapple with?  I’ll be thinking about this a lot.

On Friday, orientation ended abruptly as us ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) found ourselves in a ceremony where we got on stage, announced our name and university, and were paired with our university tutors** to thunderous applause.  It was like a confusing adoption.  I was first.  It was awkward.  It was amazing meeting my tutors though (Ivan and Pilar), who I’m sure I’ll be getting to know more over the next few months.  I said a hasty goodbye to the friends I made, especially my roommate Varenya!, and then found myself in the next stage of my journey: heading to my life in Valle de Santiago.

The moment I found myself alone with Ivan and Pilar, it hit me.  Orientation was a fun, wonderful, safety-net of a place where we spoke mostly in English and spent time chatting and getting closer to others.  But it also wasn’t an accurate representation of what my nine months would look like.  I’m going to be in my location alone, with the closest Fulbrighter a 2-hour bus ride from me.  And that will present a different set of both challenges and benefits.  I’m excited to see how it goes.

Paper butterflies at the Museum of Folk Art

**tutor – the contact at the universities we’ll be working at.  Some tutors are professors at the universities. My tutors, Ivan and Pilar, work in the department of international affairs for my university and work with language assistants such as myself.