20 May 2007

Mexmex

In three weeks I leave Mexico, three very short weeks. Where have these nine months gone?! Since spring break ended five weeks ago, the days fly by and my time here gets less and less. One day has 24 hours but feels like 5 minutes. So, have I accomplished every thing I set out to? Have I reached my goals? Or have I simply wasted away these nine months in useless cultural observations, lazy wandering and indulging in Mexican food?

Of course not.

I can speak Spanish near fluently now. When I started I was a beginner, despite four years of study in university and high school. I thought, upon arriving 22 of aug., "no problem, I can get around easily and I know enough, it`s cake." WRONG! I had a hard time even ordering a meal in McDonald`s, where half the words were brand names - Coke, Big Mac, Visa - and before beginning my classes I was dismayed to find that I placed level 3 of 6 in this school`s intensive Spanish levels, which meant I was low-intermediate level, still ineligible to take university-level classes with Mexican students. But maybe it was better that way, as I tried harder and worked more to attain more Spanish. Many have told me I don`t have a gringo accent, on some words yes, but most of the time they can`t tell I`m American, but I`m lucky in that I`m moreno, my skin is darker and at the very least I look Central American, where the people`s skin color is lighter than that of Mexicans, usually, and for that reason I tend to fit in better.

Anyway...


Have a look at these popular Mexican brands...




-Pemex: Petroleum Mexicano, petrol monopoly, the only gasoline you can buy in Mexico
-Telmex: Teléfonos Mexicano, telecommunications monopoly. Mexicans pay some of the highest phone rates in the world. It costs about 40 cents per minute to call a cell phone under TelCel, and 35 cents to use a payphone per minute. But no wonder, the compnay is owned by the world`s second richest person, Carlos Slim.
-Jumex: Jugo Mexicano, asshole juice company that supported election of conservative president Felipe Calderon
-Comex: Colores Mexicanos, every brightly colored house probably was painted using this company`s paint
-Banamex: Banco de Mexico, National bank, beareaucratic, my friend`s debit card was eaten by their ATM.
-Cemento Mexicano: Cement.
-Mexpost: Mexican Post: it probably won`t arrive.
-Cinemex: Haven`t been there
Coming soon...Bromex, which will buy out Bralapa in a landmark merger.



And now, here are two essays I`ve written: the first a "slice of life" as I take a bus ride, the second is advice for those studying abroad, both published in my college newspaper....


***

Everyday Cultural Oddities

A Slice of Life Seen from a Mexican Bus


I write this as I wait for the bus. It will be egg-yolk yellow and falling apart. Looney Toons stickers and soccer garb will plaster the dashboard and a crucified Jesus or Virgin of Guadalupe mini-shrine will be rubber-cemented on the windshield, which will have spider-web cracks and the names of its stops – Centro, Berros, 066, Bugambilias – neatly painted on the outside corner.

This is Mexico and I love it. In these past eight months I have cut a chunk from my heart and planted it in the rich Mexican soil, the country whose flag depicts an eagle devouring a serpent while perched on a cactus.

I board and pay the driver – or chauffeur as they call him – three pesos and realize that on this ride I’ll be standing in the aisle, as every seat is occupied. The bus kicks in gear, spits out a cloud of black smoke and continues on, sending the glass clacking against the panes and the doors and seats bouncing as if they’ll come unhinged due to the worn shocks taking every imperfection in the road quite seriously.

An old woman boards and squeezes past me.

“Can I please pass sir? Thank you,” she says, and sits with a friend, who she kisses on the cheek and asks about his family. He tells her how nice it is to see her after so long.

I’ve met few Mexicans I’ve disliked. Most are polite, patient and friendly. You get lost and ask someone how to get to your destination. The Mexican will not only tell you how to get there, but go with you to make sure you’re on the right path, while asking you where you’re from and how many siblings you have, and once you leave he’ll shake your hand and tell you to take care.

The bus stops in the long line of traffic, half of which is old VW Beetles and red Nissan taxis. I look out the window and a lady cuts freshly killed chicken as customers make a line on the sidewalk, and next to her a grandma sits on a blanket and peels prickles off cactus which will be eaten in a comida corrida, fast food Mexican style. Across the street is a funeral parlor, which is next to a dentist`s office, which is beside a saloon, which neighbors a tortilla shop, which is adjacent to a convenience store run from the garage of an old man. A friend said all buildings should be painted white for aesthetic reasons, but I told him I liked Mexico’s chaotic beauty, its stylish disorder.

Finally the traffic thins and the bus chugs up one of Xalapa`s many steep hills, past a crowded cluster of apartment buildings and a high school kid playing Jarocho music on his guitar, his black hair gelled and his uniformed girlfriend watching him. I’m running 15 minutes late to class, but the professor still isn’t there, and no one complains. Meanwhile a girl has her “Sweet 15” party, a paraplegic sells lottery tickets in the downtown and a group of politicians meets to argue abortion, one of them corrupt, one pro-choice and one with a baby on the way. A teenager watches poor-quality Mexican soap operas, a farmer cuts sugar cane with a machete and a boy lies dead in a Mexico City subway station.

Two minutes ago we were in a slum and now we pass through a ritzy neighborhood, where a white, blue-eyed Mexican boards, who sits next to a dark-skinned indigenous woman who is in front of a golden-brown teenager who is beside a black toddler. Mexico’s language is not Spanish but a generous helping of indigenous and American English vocabulary, as evidenced by the various advertisements on the inner walls and outside of the bus. Now and then professors spit out English words and phrases while giving classes to students named Xochiquetzal and Tenochtitlan.

Finally we arrive to my stop, where I get off and thank the driver. I pass a farmer selling fresh mangos from the back of his truck, a homeless woman passed out, a palm tree, a kid vending fingernail clippers and two stray dogs going at it. Entering the school I meet a group of friends who invite me to eat pozole soup and go salsa dancing later tonight. I gladly accept.

Colonial architecture, white-sandy beaches, jaguars, snowy mountains, pyramids, Catholicism, free health care, rapid growth, countless holidays, clogged drainage, machismo, tequila, family, skyscrapers, a festive approach to death, petroleum and phone monopolies, a bread company called Bimbo, dubbed movies and lucha libre. Contrasts, variety, inequality, discrimination, poverty, tranquillity, contamination, overcrowding, congeniality, generosity, strong traditions, modernism, chaotic beauty and stylish disorder.

This is Mexico and I love it.

***

Advice for the wanderlust

A few hints from a Mexican study-abroad staffer


By now you have made the decision of how you will occupy yourself next year, and if it’s deciding to study abroad, you’re making a great choice.

But be careful, especially in the planning stage. As college students, every penny and ounce of research matter. You already know that foreign time will open your mind, boost communication skills and make you more cultured. I want, however, to give you advice no person or book told me, based on my two semesters in Xalapa, Mexico.

The options are mind-boggling and don’t let MSU-planned programs limit you. Since I have not enrolled in MSU´s programs, I cannot criticize their quality and worthiness, but enrolling directly in a language school, becoming fluent in Spanish, and saving thousands of dollars, it’s been worth it. Despite criticism and intimidation from some faculty in planning last year – that I would learn nothing, that the school would be of poor quality and that credits wouldn’t transfer – I’ve gained the experience anyone gets studying abroad, whether it’s an MSU-planned program or an independent study.

To go independently requires more paperwork, dedication and research. It’s intense but many people will help you – just ask. If you go solo you may receive opposition, intimidation as well as pressure to learn just as much, as I did, but thorough planning leaves room for few problems.

One benefit of directly enrolling is savings. I attend the University of Veracruz, one of Mexico’s best, and pay $1,075 per semester for 19 credits or four classes. I chose to live with Mexican students from the start instead of with a school-sponsored Mexican family (about $600 per month), and it’s cost me $5,500 for ten months ($140 per month for rent and utilities and $410 for everything else). In addition, I’m still enrolled at MSU and receive the grants, loans and scholarships I would normally get, while some of MSU`s study-abroad programs charge you the cost of the foreign school plus MSU tuition, even though you are not physically taking classes there. For example, MSU`s Guadalajara, Mexico program costs about $7,000 per semester, not including airfare. And while the average Mexican earns $10,600 per year, it is ironic to spend $7,000 in 15 weeks in a developing country.

Other advice:

It’s recommendable to know the country you’re studying and more importantly to know your own. Frequently I’m asked my opinion of the border wall, immigration, George Bush, the war and American television. It surprises me how much foreigners know about my country – sometimes more than I do – and how little I know about their country.

Avoid spending too much time with English speakers. It’s easier but you lose chances you’d spend with locals learning slang or adventuring solo. In one embarrassing instance, a graceless blond run up to a farmer, donkey behind him, asking if she photograph him. He declined but she offered him a few pesos, which was even more insulting. Americans often have a bad image in many countries, perhaps the worst in the world, and it worsens each day thanks to our polluted media and incompetent president. You will affect every person you meet and their opinion toward our country, so it is in our best interest to be thoughtful and competent.

Get a local lover. Having a romantic fling from your host country quickly submerges you in culture nuance as well as tests your confidence, especially when learning another language. And who knows, the path to dual citizenship might become less complicated.

Be sensitive. It’s uncomfortable to see foreigners mocking locals because they do something different. One time I was in a taxi and an American was dissing the driver behind his back for the way he drove. Although this was in English, many Mexicans understand and speak our language well.

Living like locals is a humbling experience and makes for interesting stories. Street food gave me intestinal parasites once and riding second class busses from Mexico to Guatemala City was a discount ticket to death, but I wouldn’t otherwise have mistaken chicken sandwiches for dog meat or see people who live on the side of mountainous highways selling life-size wicker reindeer.

Read the newspaper. By reading the news you not only learn the country better but pick up faster on unknown words. On Mexican media – seeing that almost every day a handful or so are murdered due to drug trafficking-related instances (23 on the day of the Virginia Tech massacre), often journalists, and the death threats pro-choice supporters receive (last week abortion was legalized in Mexico City), I have more confidence in our freedom of expression, no matter how unfair it seems.

Enjoy the honey-moon period. Upon arriving everything will be new and exciting. This stage has been the most fun for me, and similar instances reoccur, but it’s called “honeymoon” for a reason, and when that ends the culture shock begins.

Finally, be prepared for anything. Not just in your host country, but back home as well. In the past eight months two relatives died, one sibling got married, one went through puberty, one began to drive and one became an adult. One cousin got pregnant, one returned from Papua New Guinea, one went to Harvard and one moved out. People age, get sick and die. Some change and some stay the same. Your challenge upon arrival will be re-adapting to everything you missed. And going home in less than six weeks, that is what I fear the most.


Photo of the day...



One of Mexico City`s staple green VW taxis cruises in the southern part of the megalopolis April 12, with a clear, smogless view of the mountains in the background.