So I thought I would stay away from talking about dogs this time but I can't. They’re all encompassing. I have a new dog pal named Caliman and I took a liking to him from the beginning because he was stubby, abnormally stubby, and I learned this weekend that he's a dwarf. The vertically challenged must stick together so we've bonded and now he follows me everywhere.
While you are always aware of differences when it comes to language variation depending on the country, sometimes you're not prepared for just how different certain words can be. For instance, I think half the Brits' vocabulary is wacky but they would just reply that Americans are backwards cowboys with no sense so i don't bring this argument up much...mainly because they aren't too far off. but please, if someone asks you in Spanish "eres china?" which in Spain would be translated as "Are you Chinese?" and you are black, you are going to be a little confused. After about the 5th time I was asked if I was "china" (mind you my partner who is Chinese was standing right next to me) I thought that something had to give. I explained to them where my ancestors came from and noted that no one had ever guessed I was Chinese. They looked at me strangely. I politely informed them that my hair was my own, not bought off some silky-haired Asian person. They looked at me even more weirdly. I finally squashed the assumption that I knew Spanish and asked them to explain to me what "chino/a" was. Lo and behold, china in Mexico at least in Oaxaca means "curly haired." Yes, I have curly hair. Go figure.
There was a chicken running on my roof last night.
I ate a whole chicken last Friday. Yes, that is not a typo unlike the whole rest of my email. Ana, Dylan (the other volunteers) and I went to Oaxaca city for a meeting about documentaries and indigenous groups and happened to get there very early (we found a new route that consists of jammed-pack white vans much like the ones I took in Senegal racing around fast mountain curves). Since we arrived at 8:30 am for our 11 am meeting and had just been talking the night before about how much we craved meat (we don't eat a lot of meat, just beans and tortillas mostly), when we spotted the rotisserie chicken in the window, we pounced. That chicken was gone in about 5 minutes. sooooooooo goooooooood. Now we're going to make this a weekend thing.
So, I’m really impressed with how well our town is working with us. Oaxaca has an interesting political system where each town has a committee that is made up of unpaid people that have been voted on. Anything that affects the town must go through them. This committee is mostly male so sometimes we have a hard time getting them to take us seriously (the guy in our group only speaks a little Spanish so the committee gave up on him). Slowly, however, we are showing that we (Ana and I) are just as capable as he would be if he could speak. Culture shock. having a committee also means that you have long long long committee meetings that basically consist of the same things being said over and over again each time someone shows up. CPT. So I was in shock when last Friday we had a 30 minute meeting that was to the point and productive (unfortunately, that was after we waited 2 hours for the president to show up...but anything is better than hearing the same information repeated 3 times.) In this meeting we basically handled everything that was on our agenda. We showed them how to fill out the forms to get money from our organization and from other funds. They are planning to build four spa-like structures that were used hundreds of years ago. They emit soothing vapors from heated rocks and the people inside are wrapped in leaves and other substances that serve medicinal purposes. I also convinced them to take down the large billboard on the side of the road at the entrance of the town, bring it to the auditorium, and set it up so I can paint it. It took the strength of 12 men and a truck but i now have my mural spot. I have completed one painting and have two more to do so that they can chose what design they like best. I will start painting next week with the help of my English students. The goal is to attract tourism to the village.
We have also finished translating a brochure and will start the museum translations this week. We got smart. We decided to each teach a class so now I’m only working 2 hrs a day and have the rest of the time for the million other projects we're doing.
So work is going well. Play is fun too. Saturday I went hiking to the top of one of the tallest peaks here and then had the pleasure of washing my extremely dirty pants and shirt on the washboard at home after I slid down the mountain on my backside...not on purpose of course. I’m also seeing if I can convince the AMIGOS powers that be to let us stay in Oaxaca city a couple extra days for the Guelaguetza, a huge festival that attracts people from all over the world for a week of singing and dancing. My biggest feat will be to convince those same powers that be to let me go to Puerto Escondido. On the surface it looks like its just a beach, but I have learned from trusted sources that there is a man there named Padre Glyn from Trinidad and Tobago who is the leading local scholar on the afro-mestizo population in the area. I’m getting back to my roots. Few people know of these villages and all the African customs and traditions they still hold. Most of these people came from the Yoruba tribes. They were brought to Mexico as overseers for the Spanish about 300 years ago. Quite a different face from the Africans brought to the U.S. Anyway, the culture is quite strong from the dress, to the dances, to the stories and I'm hoping to do some research as well as check out the artwork that I hear is spectacular in this region. And of course, some R&R at the beach.
Anyway, I will be back next week with more interesting happenings.
Maya
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