Revelry!

Carnaval: You can get anything from jewelry to drunk.

God bless the person who decided to put 30 oz of beer into a giant cup with lime and salt and chile and dowse the rim with a delicious dripping chile sauce. I started off well.

After crowded streets of foodstuffs and puppets, we made our way to the games, the rides, and into a clearing with hoardes of people and trombones. I didn't exactly know what was going on, but people were jumping and dancing to the very distinct brass sounds. So that's what I did! It got very crowded and we slowly made our way dancing around.

Closer to the center I saw these men:

It seemed that these costumed men were wearing masks that mocked the European Conquistadors, but had a gown with detailed embroidery of their indigenous history.

I had no Idea what this all meant, carnaval didn't come with a guide book. So I asked a friend and he told me that they were called the "Chinelos" and that it's a costume passed down through the family and the kids learn the story and the dance at the carnaval each year. If you want to learn more, check out Carnaval Tepoztlan

We danced and drank and ate until our hearts were content, and just like any good Mexican trip it ended with us piling into the back of a truck.

¡Que Chido!

- how cool-

Dia de Amor y Amistad

There is an interesting relationship I have with Mexico City. I know it's a fabulous city, with plenty to do and wonderful things to see, however, since this is where my friends and family are, and I am a single gal, it's much harder to traipse around on my own. Needless to say, I have yet to completely warm up to the city, and get out as much as I can.

Last week I spent about 4 days in a community in the southernmost, and biggest I think, delegation of Mexico City. It took about 2 hrs by bus to climb up to this beautiful little mountain village where there are views of volcanoes and the stretch of the whole city. It's called Milpa Alta, and the people there are as wonderful as the views. I had a very relaxing couple days with a friend enjoying the tranquility and drinking a fermented beverage called "pulque". Pulque is made form the agave, like tequila, but pulque is the fermented sap of the agave. It is milky, and has a particular odor that can be unsettling (it's cultures!) but it is supremely relaxing, and grows on you.

Ceck out some cute kids and a street in Milpa Alta with the snow capped volcano in the background!

Where did those kids come from?

Yesterday I was at a pool party for a friend of a friend. We all swam, ate, drank, and played all day. To add to the things that Mexico does well, besides food, and markets: the children! Let me tell you, Mexican kids are so precious. We all played in the pool and ran around the large yard all day. The friends of my friend, are these wonderful gals who run a women's clinic here in Cuernavaca (remember the land of eternal spring?). I spent a long time talking to a midwife about health, herbs, and strength. It's interesting the social structures here. The gender roles and identity are much much different, and although I anticipated it, it's very different to feel it, almost taste the role of "female" that I don't particularly identify with. But I reckon the "female" blog will come at a different point. Right now it's just refreshing to be in touch with women who are helping and empowering other women.

I must pause my adventure narrative to send saludos to some of my women back in the states.

The lady that started it all for me, Mamí, the strongest and most caring woman I know, it wasn't until I came to her country that I truly appreciated her independence and resilience, she's a superhero! Kim burns brighter, than stars, from near and far, she's got magic from her soul down to her toes, tap away honey. Kbird, my very dear mountain princess beginning her nest, felicidades! Ivanita la mas bonita, the whirlwind of energy who's in love with the world, also starting her family-besos! Anna, grace and beauty, she floats on air, parties like a rockstar, and cooks up magically delicious things! Sheri and Kristin, a complete pair, a wonderful example of loving partners, independence, strength and style! Angela, our teenage years were filled with adventures and music rock on! Michele Leonard, my first friend in Santa Cruz, her eyes smile and her heart is bigger than "the cement ship". Lovely Rita, helped me navigate retail, and provided strength, wisdom, and guidance. Larissa, light and beauty, we've only kicked a few times, but you stole a piece of my heart. Bebe Grill, sister, kicks ass, she's got the whole package and not afraid to use it. Which leads me to her wonderful mother, a lady of immense beauty, grace, style, Judith Jensen a woman full of love and strength that provided me with so much love and support. Teresa! although she will not read this, mother bear, a woman with the stars in her eyes and strength like an oak tree. To my teachers, my friends, my family, the people that give me smiles, hugs, and inspiration. Debra Bei, Dr. Omosupe, Katherine McBride, all the women who are inspirations to us all. It is the strength of these women that motivate and inspire us to take on the world. Thank you.

Now it's Valentines day, or as they say here "The day of Friendship and Love", and it's also carnaval in a nearby village by the name of Tepotzlan. Let's see how rowdy we can all get before Lent!

What is Culture?

"Culture is a collective programming of the mind that distinguishes the members of one group or category of people from another." (http://www.tamu.edu/classes/cosc/choudhury/culture.html)

It's food.

It's art.

It's religion.

It's language.

It's...technology?

Where does science fit into culture, does culture affect science? Or does science affect culture?

And furthermore, how does global involvement influence cultural diversity. I have been thinking lately about diversity. When I was traveling up from Puerto Escondido with my new anthropolgist friend, we discussed at length the indigenous cultures of Mexico, and how the markets represented their culture and was one of the remnants of their pre-columbian traditions. He said he always made it a point to stop in and check on the native markets that were en route to his destinations. We stopped in a small village which he said had a superb market. Upon arriving, my friend looked confused. We stopped and asked people where the market had gone and to his surprise it was gone. They had built a giant where-house on the out-skirt of town and built a giant concrete "square" in the center of town, where the traditional market had been for years. After hearing about this, my friend became sad and said that the traditional market had been beautiful and full of culture and history, now it was gone. He simply said "the times change". This sparked a conversation about change, globalization, and corporatization leading to loss of cultural diversity. I told him that I thought that diversity was the natural harmony of the earth, which leads to progress and that for a future, we need a history. He laughed at me. He said he had been doing this for over 40 years and that it is human nature to shift cultural paradigms. Shift?

This left a bad taste in my mouth. It makes me feel entirely too naíve. To better understand how diversity is affected by global markets, I feel I need to understand better what culture is, and what diversity means. And how does technology fit into the globalization? Without technological progress in industry, communication, agriculture, we would have less of a global impact on diversity in general, right?

Once again, I have loaded my plate up with a lot to chew, and a very feeble digestive tract.

So I flipped the coin, and I remembered the other side to it: progress.

Once again, how does technology affect culture. I have decided to explore communication, furthermore: the internet. Since more and more people are getting connected to the internet across the globe, more and more people have access to a network of ideas and people that are not limited to a geographical region. This relatively open source for exchanging ideas has, and will continue, to shape the way cultures are created and proliferated. It seems that culture is no longer as geographically bound as it once was, and furthermore is rapidly changing the way people are culturally identified. These ideas excite and fascinate me, because I feel that we are on the cusp of a giant cultural shift, or have begun a giant cultural shift. Going back to my idea of diversity and growth, history and future, the internet is allowing for an explosion of diversity.

So goodbye indigenous markets, and hello internet profiles and updates. Now, what happens if the giant overloaded network crashes?

Just like a tough steak, or a big torta, this I'm going to need to chew on for some time. Meanwhile, I'm going to hit the "mercado" and load up on some tortillas, roasted grasshoppers, and handmade clothes.

Beaches, bugs and paradise!

It's been a while since I have had the internet at my fingertips, and enough time to sit and participate in the waxing phenomenon we call blogging.

It has been a very crazy week and change for me. It began on my impromptu trip to Acapulco with a kid I met in the "rideshare" section of craigslist, and ended with a kid I met in an internet cafe in a quaint artsy village just southeast of Mexico City, Tepotzlan. In between were a myriad of adventures and a couple curve balls which you can only expect and come to look forward to whilst traveling.

After leaving Acapulco I came up with the bright idea to check out this spot on the map, a lagoon by the name of Tecomate. So we darted off the main road on to a dirt road riddled with pot holes and more livestock than a petting zoo, to make it just as the sun was setting in what turned out to be a very very small fishing village. The people stared as we drove through the only street in town, as if we had appeared from the sky and not endured the same dirt road they use to get to and from the main highway. We found a spot to park and asked some ladies if it was alright to check out their little slice of heaven and walk around the lagoon. They loved our interest and we proceeded to familiarize ourself with the tiny fishing village of no more than a couple hundred people. It was becoming apparent that there was no hostel, no motel, no camp ground, and not even a beach to crash on. Upon returning to the car, I asked the same ladies if we could sleep in the car, to which they opened up and offered us a spot on their concrete floor. If that wasn't good enough, they took us to the only public place in town, Restaurante 3 Mananas. After a few beers and chatting up the owner, he offered to put us up in his restaurant, it was on the second floor and had a good breeze and good view, why not? Their level of hospitality only increased from there. The eldest daughter of the restaurant owners invited us to a party where a local boy was turning 24. We went and were quickly invited in and handed endless supplies of beers and tequila straight from a bottle they passed around. This lively event of 30 or so people ranged from teenagers to people in their 50's. As we all became more intoxicated they attempted to teach us how to dance while at the same time encircling us and prodding about why we were there, how we got there, our lives "back home" and so on. By the end of the night we were offered several places to stay, several breakfasts, and several boat rides on the lagoon. We ended up back at the house of the restaurant owners and awoke to the daughters cooking us fresh (from he lagoon that morning!) fish, handmade tortillas, and fresh salsa. It was by far one of the most amazing meals I have had in my life. The parents had gone to town, so we sat and chatted up the eldest daughter (the younger two just smiled and laughed at my green eyed friend and what I'm assuming is my laughable spanish) Now things move slowly in places like this. There was no television, no radio, no air conditioner, no running water. No stress either. There was no rush to do anything, we had all day to eat, lounge, eat coconuts, take a boat ride...talk. This came as a shock I think, because we were used to keeping a schedule, and the villagers figured we had all day, hell, they even offered to put us up for weeks! But by the afternoon we had to leave to our next destination.

By that night we made it into a beautiful beach resort by the name of Playa Ventura. This place is beautiful, inexpensive, and the beaches are fantastic. But by the time we made it to the hotel, we realized we both had been bitten HUNDREDS of times by what the locals called "sancudos" which I have gathered is a nasty little mosquito. My feet swelled up so big that I couldn't wear sandals or shoes, or even bend my toes (the wretched irony of feet problems!) It hurt/itched/burned so much it made me sick to my stomach. So needless to say we didn't enjoy much of the beach, the sand and water was "no bueno" for our feet.

The next spot on the itinerary was another fishing village with a rich afro-mestizo population, part of an isolated population that came from the caribbean and throughout mexico after slavery. This place was another very welcoming and simple village. They again welcomed us and asked us a ton of questions. It seems everywhere we went, the more open we were, the more we were treated like family! We stayed one night and left around noon the next day.

So, finally, we were just a short drive from our ultimate destination, the surf spot by the name of Puerto Escondido. But just when we got our hopes up, we got rear-ended by a drunk guy in the town of San Jose del Progreso. This put a definite wrench in our plans. We figured it out though, and stayed in a nice cabaña at a place called "Güido's". After 2 nights there, we were finally headed to Puerto.

We got to Puerto and I managed to do a lot of nothing, but lounge on the beach a couple days.

I then met a famous visual anthropologist by the name of Guillermo Aldana, who has been studying and taking pictures of the indegenous people throughout Mexico for 40 years. He showed me some work and even offered to take me back up toward Mexico City. He left me in a hip artsy town just a short drive from Mexico City where I landed in an internet café, bags and all, and proceeded to try and find a ride back to the city. Once again, I managed to ask the right people because the kids I approached asking about the nearest bus station just so happened to be from Mexico City. One of the guys had just come down with the flu and said he was headed back immediately (¡Gracias Nadir!) What luck! He drove me back and I met up with my brother who just so happened to be hanging out at the Frida Kahlo museum blocks from my ride's apartment---great timing!

And here I am, back in the "Districo Fedral" awaiting my next adventure!

Here: the restaurant in Tecomate (the lagoon), view from our balcony in Playa Ventura, View from the road south out of Acapulco, and Güido's restaurant in San José del Progreso

You can find more Mexico pictures on my flickr page in the set titled: "mexico"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pantomorphic/

Faded Glory

I traded an arid, hyper polluted yet cultural mecca, for humidity, giant ants and the territory of one of the largest drug cartels in Mexico: Welcome to Acapulco. What used to be the IT spot in Mexico for natives and foreigners alike (Frank Sinatra and Elizabeth Taylor were reported to visit) has slowly deteriorated to a shadow of it's former splendor. It still hosts record amounts of tourists each year, but more increasingly has grown partisan in an insipid drug war between cartels that has permeated the country within the last decade to make parts of Mexico more dangerous than its Latin American neighbors, it's only dangerous if you get caught in the crossfire a local assured me, "I'll take a grenade with that margarita, no thanks, the salt makes the shrapnel too 'tinny'."

We arrived by car, after paying entirely too much in highway tolls. You could feed a family for a week on the amount of pesos we dropped for a better maintained road and a "safer passage" to Acapulco (next time, I'm opting for a few potholes and some stray bullets). I caught a ride with a fella I contacted via Craigslist who was heading to Acapulco at the exact time that I was itching for some coast (literally, the dry air in Mexico City made me itch). We decided to team up and take on a 4 or so hour drive and land at the house of a couchsurfing member by the name of Eduardo. Eduardo is a gracious host that has offered us anything we could want, including an endless supply of giant ants he calls "gueras" (blondies) which he claims are harmless. We stopped in to put down our bags, then we went off for tacos and beer and to sit at the Zócalo (town square). I was a bit amazed at how many stray cats/kittens there were just perched along the boats, waiting for fishermen scraps I guess. We kicked it there for a minute then headed back to Eduardo's place to catch some soccer and internet. I ended up talking to Eduardo about a plethora of culturally related things, For example he says that from his experience, Americans have the capacity for loneliness because they are locked up in their house and no one talks to one another, kids don't play in the streets and neighbors don''t mix it up well into the night. HE also assured me that the neighborhood we were in was safe, but that a couple weeks back there was a big military vs cartel blow out with grenades and guns that lasted a while, but as he says, they are preoccupied with killing each other, not you. (just stay out of the crossfire)

On a side note, I found out that the big military presence I was commenting on in Cuernavaca last weekend was more than usual because they had just killed one of the biggest drug lords in the country. You know where his territory was/is? Yup, Acapulco.

We ended up trading stories for a couple hours and then trading notes on music. He gave me a good tour of Spanish music which started with El Tri, a 40 yr old Mexican Rock band, and ended with Soda Stereo ( Argentinian band oddly similar to Morrisey)

check out some Mexican flavor: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4AEuon2ncA

I don't know how long I'll be in Acapulco, or where to go next, but for now I'm enjoying the stickiness and giant ants.

"Pink" Zone

The last few days I have been laying low, partly because I have a hurt foot (damnit!) and partly because without a proper guide this city is practically impossible for me to traverse. Take a labyrinth, then put it on steroids, add more street vendors than you can shake a stick at, and throw in a couple pick pockets: that's how I'm feeling about this city. So although there is a super comprehensive subway system, I am still vary weary to embark on my own adventures. Tim and I are solidifying plans to get an apartment in "Condeza" (think Greenwich village NYC), which would put me in a safer area, closer to things that interest me. By the way, there are something like 16 different districts and hundreds of "colonias/zonas" or neighborhoods. We are moving to the hip/queer area. And once I have my own launch pad, I can get to know the area a little better. This should all fall into place in the beginning of February. Some stability and maybe a job will allow me to better enjoy Mexico.

To tell the truth, not having my own digs, but being stuck in the poorest most industrial area of a city(they say is extremely dangerous), has had me contemplating buying a one way ticket to Peru, or Hawaii. Tim assured me that more exposure to different parts of the city will make me feel better. He was right. Last night we went to "La Zona Rosa" which directly translates into "The Pink Zone". It's the queer neighborhood, and there are gay boys everywhere. For those who are unfamiliar, Mexico City just passed a law making same sex marriage legal, so there is no shortage of gay couples on the streets. We went out to have "sibling time" and plan our next few weeks, since Tim is working all day during the week and I have to figure out how I want to spend my time. We wandered around looking for this elusive Korean bakery, but didn't succeed in our mission, so we landed at a cantina drinking micheladas (beer with lime and salt) and eating greasy bar food (which gave me my first rumble in the gut). We then called it an early night because the -super comprehensive- subway closes at 12 and it's not advisable to be out walking the streets past then (this city is making it hard for me to warm up to it).

Today we went in search for an internet cafe, and landed at a place called "Conejo Blanco" or "White Rabbit" in Condeza. In fact, this is where I am as I type. Tim had internet work to do, and I thought I would come along to check out our soon to be neighborhood. I must say this place is fantastic. We got 4 courses and wine for less than $10 USD. I am happy, full, and I even took a picture of our main course! (see below) It's more swanky than I can afford on a daily basis, but after a week of 50 cent tacos, I think I can splurge. I haven't had food this good since LA or NY or SF (sorry Santa Cruz, but your cuisine is lacking a certain je ne se quoi)

So maybe this week I will make it to some museums, maybe the zoo.

Below I have posted pictures of our delicious meal at the White Rabbit: Steak "Arrachera" and Pizza with goat cheese and fig wrapped in prosciutto. Also are some photos of us enjoying our micheladas at a divey cantina.

Eternal Spring

Cuernavaca has a long history as a vacation spot from the days of the Aztecs, through the Spaniards, and even Maximilian had a vacation home here. I can definitely see why. This city of about 1,000,000 people is situated on the southern slope of the Sierra de Chichinazutin, about 50 miles south of Mexico City and has a stable climate and a plethora of flora. It truly is beautiful, vibrant, and welcoming.

We arrived the 15th, and took a taxi to our host Brent's house. He had eaten something that didn't sit well, so we stopped by a "botanica" and bought him a bag of tea that the lady claimed was exactly what he needed, and that after steeping it for 7 minutes, he could refrigerate the bag and steep it up to 20 more times. I wonder who actually does that? On Saturday he took us to breakfast and then to the market. The restaurant where we ate breakfast was called "El Común". Not only was the food good, there were posters on the walls about women's rights and civil rights. There was even a jar for donations to send to Haiti, to help aid the victims of the earthquake. This place was right up my alley. After breakfast, Brent took us to the "mercado", market. We started in the fabric store, ventured through some dark corridors and ended up in an endless labyrinth of sneakers, purses, clothes and hats. I had never seen that many varieties and colors of Pumas and Jordans in my entire life. The tunnels of fashion wear spit us out into a maze of flourescent lights and media. People peddling knock off everything while spanish dubbed new releases were blaring from flat screen tvs on every "corner". We were amidst endless movie bootleggars. Less than $1.00 USD and we could get anything from "Amadeus" to new releases like "Avatar". Timmy and Brent dropped some pesos on a few movies and we proceeded to the food market. We emerged from the dark passages of poorly dubbed Hollywood blockbusters, to open air vendors that lead to a wherehouse of equally cramped food stands with higher ceilings. We stopped for a drink: beet, celery, apple, orange, and carrot juiced to perfection. We needed all those vitamins, because once we entered the endless rows of produce, stacks of cheese, bins of beans and racks of raw meat, we were swept with the flow of people buying anything from chicken feet and grasshoppers, to edible flowers and guavas. We returned back to the apartment for a siesta and some dinner. There was a drag show with a queen by the name of "La Gorda" but we missed it because dinner took too long. Timmy and Brent then headed out to a club around 1am. I stayed behind to relax and write.

Traveling tip number 1: wear proper shoes.

It's terribly ironic that the job I left in California revolved around the biomechanics of the foot, and here I am suffering what is a typical case of plantar fasciitis (laugh it up guys at Fleet Feet). I went running around the giant university last week in my old school vans with no socks, which inevitably led to the blister of a lifetime on my heel. That's no sweat. But then I decided to wear flip flops to Cuernavaca- good weather, eternal spring, and a long bus ride- not too much walking. I was wrong, we must have walked 5 miles between metro and buses and trying to figure out the cell phone Friday. So Saturday morning I had an inflamed fascia from hell on my right foot. It hurt to even stand. So now I'm back in Mexico City and I'm going to need to walk. We'll see how it goes!

Below are pictures of the valley east on the way out of Mexico and into Cuernavaca, the market, a state building (state of Morelos, Cuernavaca is the capital) and me with our host brent.