Hello, world...
I haven't updated my blogs at ALL and, since I'm home and they're all complete, I thought I should post them!
Enjoy!!
Culture Shock…in the U.S.
April 3rd, 2008
Prior to my trip, everyone insisted that I needed to brace myself for culture shock in Mexico. Because of the differences between Mexico and the U.S., I was told to be aware that my first few weeks would be extremely difficult as I acculturated. Honestly, I never felt this uneasiness, nor did I realize how or when I became accustomed to Mexican culture. Although I was aware that I was fitting in better and better, I had no technique or strategy to avoid culture shock but, somehow, I never felt the stress that most people feel when adjusting to a new country.
Stress did arise during the trip into the U.S. Entering our first plane, I did not feel uneasy or shocked; rather, I felt excited and ready to return to the U.S. While attempting to board our second flight in Mexico City, I was reminded about the rules and regulations of American flight policies. As I entered the plane with three carry-ons and was told that I could not board with all three, I became a frustrated American that was willing to lie and say “Oh, this bag is my friend’s.” After being seated on the plane, I began to think about this. When I boarded the Mexicana airline, I was not bombarded with such strict regulations, leaving me to feel comfortable and relaxed, while the Delta airline immediately frustrated me. I realized that the relaxed policies in Mexico had left me to become relaxed, as well, and made me able to find myself rather than the constantly stressed-out individual that I usually am. Has the U.S. made me into this stressed-out individual? With my encounter with flight policy in our first Delta flight, I was reminded that American lifestyle is tense and stressful, leaving all Americans left with abnormal, unnecessarily high stress levels.
Finally, we landed in Atlanta. My excitement took over me as we waited for our baggage at baggage claim, and I began calling my friends and family to tell them that I was in the U.S. After this, however, we entered the terminal area to wait for our flight into Philadelphia. I had been thinking about this day for a few weeks now, just hoping to get “American” food in the airport. Although I did have the chance to buy “American” food, I was feeling culture shock! How could this be? I’m in my native country, and I’m feeling out of place? Many aspects, including the hustle-and-bustle of the airport, the fact that I no longer was one of the tallest people in the general vicinity, the lack of Maya-Mexican people, and the prevalence of the English language, made me feel a true sense of discomfort. Even when I was attempting to order my food in the airport, I had a difficult time understanding the English of the cashier and I found myself actually putting forth effort in order to resist speaking in Spanish!
With so many differences being immediately apparent to me, I felt out of place. As odd as it seems, I’m sure it is just a matter of time before I am used to the American culture again, but I hope that I will not forget my knowledge and learned appreciation of Mexican culture. Indeed, this study abroad experience has changed my outlook on life. If I had chosen a different study abroad program to European country, such as France, for example, I would have learned about European culture, but I am certain that I would not have learned about myself and how I want to live my life. As European countries are Westernized in a similar manner as seen in the U.S., I know that I would not have only extended my knowledge of language and culture. Without seeing the hardships that Mexican families face, I would not have realized the strength of my desire to help less fortunate or my desire to improve conditions throughout the world. My desire to become a doctor has now expanded into a yearning to help the less fortunate, thus making me hope to learn more about similar conditions of poverty-stricken countries of the world so that I will be able to provide medical assistance to these people in the future. In addition, my appreciation for nature has grown into an inexplicable love that I would not have gained in another abroad program. If I had not been granted the opportunity to live in the jungles of Mexico, to climb mountains, or to white water raft, my love for nature would never have developed, nor would I have ever been granted the opportunity to explore and truly experience the adventure of life!
Tal Vez
April 1st, 2008
While in Merida, I had a number of opportunities to listen to the radio. One of the most played songs on the radio, entitled “Tal Vez” by Kudai, quickly became one of my favorite Mexican songs. After leaving Merida, I continued to hear “Tal Vez” on the radio, in restaurants, and even in karaoke bars. While in a karaoke bar in Celestun, I asked a waitor to give me the name and artist of this song. Although I have had this information for a few weeks, today was the first that I researched the lyrics and their translation into English.
Within the first stanza, mention of “memories [not] killing my faith” provoked my attention. Building on this, the repeating chorus states:
I want to speak, I want to see,
I want to be and I want to be
And in your arms to be born again...
“To be born again” stood out to me, as it seemed to be a very Christian idea that one can be born again into the Christian faith. The song continues to speak of a sort of re-birth, and the song ends by repeating “tal vez,” meaning “perhaps”, with the haunting background repeating “memories do not kill my faith” and “and in your arms to be born again.”
With my curiosity at its peak, I decided to find the music video for this popular song (http://youtube.com/watch?v=N7J2Lx7w7qo). The video shows the story of a young woman fighting against an alcohol addiction. While she empties her liquor cabinet and attends group therapy meetings, the members of Kudai are shown within a Catholic church, where they are shown infront of the church’s altar. Towards the end of the video, the woman enters the church to pray with her rosary beads. Additionally, the camera zooms into her neck, where it shows her grabbing a silver crucifix on her neck, followed by her releasing the crucifix and lifting her hands in a prayer.
This video and song would never have been popular in the U.S. With “Tal Vez” being one of the most popular, mainstream songs in Mexico, it is evident that Mexican culture is one that openly embraces religious expression. In the United States, however, we are taught to keep religion separate from almost all other aspects of life, as if it were taboo to be religious. Through the mention of rebirth and allowing religion to change one’s lifestyle, Kudai readily mentions religion, and the entire country responded by making this song one of the most popular songs in Mexico.
This difference in the embracing of religion has also become more evident to me while in San Cristobal. A few days ago, while on break during evolution class, a parade of evangelical Christians passed by Jovel. Initially, I felt a bit uncomfortable with this, as it seemed a bit controversial for this group of non-Catholic Christians to pass through the road preaching to this largely Catholic country. If this had happened in the United States, especially with a minority religion parading through the streets, riots surely would have broken out, possibly resulting in the injuring of individuals within the parade for such open preaching of their religion. In Mexico, however, people seemed to openly embrace it, as there were people that exited buildings and inquired about the parade while readily receiving pamphlets and information from the parade members.
It is difficult to become comfortable with such open displays of religion after being taught to privately worship in one’s religion. Through the multiple displays of religion in Mexico, as in popular music, parades, and even through household religious decorations, Mexicans are much more open about religion when compared to Americans. With this openness, it seems as though a lowered amount of violence results from religious displays, potentially proving that this openness allows for less hostility between religions. Even though the fact that the majority of the country is Catholic, the people, who were most likely Catholics, watching the evangelical parade did not respond with physical or verbal violence; they were accepting and willing to hear the ideas of these Protestants, proving the increased receptiveness to religion through this open-religion policy in Mexico.
Ohh, we’re climbing THAT mountain?
March 29th, 2008
After meeting with some classmates in the Zocalo, we stood and waited for taxis to take us to Huitepec. Because of the fact that it was so early in the morning, I did not expect to see much activity in the Zocalo. Surprisingly, however, there was a multitude of activity seen by Chamulan women as they tried to sell some of their goods. Even young children were selling to support their families, reminding me of the lack of education that children receive in Mexico. Unsurprisingly, Mexicans only receive an average of 7.2 years of formal education; even with this known, however, I wondered how much education the children of Chamula receive. Regardless of the average, the children of Chamula must be an exception, as I have seen countless children during all hours of the day attempting to sell items and provide additional support for their families. As their mothers and fathers, selling hemp wristbands and scarves will be their destiny, with little opportunity to branch into any other occupation.
When our taxis arrived, we began to near Huitepec. Prior to this trip to Huitepec, I do not think that I understood the meaning of a “nature hike.” After not having done much physical activity in the past two weeks, my body was not ready for today’s hike. As we made our ascend up the mountain side, I could not help but feel like I was having a heart attack! My body ached and my breathing became extremely heavy, but I continued to climb.
With this continued climb, I kept thinking about how I have never physically forced myself to do anything like this. I have always pushed myself in other ways, such as academically and emotionally, but never have I found myself in a physically strenuous situation where I was in need of pushing myself to continue. As I climbed, I kept thinking to myself “this isn’t killing me, so I just need to keep going,” and I did.
By physically forcing myself to climb further, I found myself at the top of the mountain. The view was amazing! I could not believe that I was able to see the tops of surrounding mountains through the tree line. The beauty of surrounding Chiapas was truly stunning, and I could not imagine a more beautiful view. Adding to this beauty was the sound of many bird species singing. As we sat on fallen trees within the woods, we all became silent, with our attention completely taken by the many elaborate songs flooding our ears. Even in the U.S., where I have had opportunities to listen to multiple bird songs, I have never felt so amazed by the song structure of birds. Without this hike, I believe that my appreciation of nature would never have fully developed without witnessing the deluge of bird songs at the top of Huitepec.
Although Huitepec did not show me any differences between cultures, it showed me how I have developed as an individual through this study abroad experience. I have never actually climbed anything of this sort in the United States, nor would I have ever thought to climb a mountain and physically exert myself to such an extreme. Without this trip, I know that I may never have done anything like this climb at Huitepec. After seeing the tree-lined view from the top, hearing the songs of the many bird species, and feeling an overwhelming feeling of success at the top of the mountain, I realize that I would love to do something like this again, and I hope that I will be able to extend my new found love for nature after my return to the U.S.!
Visit to Chamula
March 24th, 2008
Driving to Chamula, I was in awe of the views we were seeing surrounding San Cristobal. With the beautiful, rolling hills and the city sitting within the valley, I looked out of the van window thinking about how beautiful Mexico really is. After seeing this beauty, however, we parked outside of a church within walking distance of Chamula. Outside of the church was a graveyard which truly shocked me. As I looked at the graves, I was disturbed by the fact that the ground was completely covered in litter. Surrounding each tombstone was a multitude of garbage, in addition to a lack of upkeep of the gravesites, in general. Unlike any cemetery in the U.S., the gravesites each lacked a grassy covering but, rather, showed exposed mounds of dirt where each person had been buried. As I looked at the cemetery, I couldn’t help but notice two women visiting grave sites. Neither appeared to mind the fact that their loved ones’ graves were bare and covered in garbage but, rather, they appeared to be making a visit as anyone in the U.S. would. Without an apparent care of the disrespectful litter, I wondered why these women did not appear to be concerned. In the U.S., the upkeep of cemeteries would be the responsibility of the church. With the apparent lack of such policies in Mexico, or at least in Chamula, I can understand why these women would not care: they were not taught to care. In addition, such policies cost the churches money to continue and, because Mexico, including Chamula, is not a wealthy country, I understand why there would be a litter problem and a lack of planted grass on each of the grave sites.
Following our visit to the cemetery, we entered Chamula, where we visited the San Juan Chamula church. As we entered the church, we were told not to take photographs inside of the church, as to keep the church a sacred place for the people of Chamula rather than simply a spectacle. Regardless of this rule, however, I felt as though, as a visitor, I was making this church into a sort of amusement ride. With its beauty and sacredness, I felt extremely uncomfortable looking around the church, especially while Chamulans were observing prayer within the church during our visit. As our group stood in the back, I felt that I needed to leave from this church, but, instead, we walked through the rest of the church. Looking at all of the candles and pine needles covering the floor, I was astounded by the ways in which the people were religiously worshiping, as it truly was something that I had never experienced before.
Although I had never experienced it before, I am not certain that I will ever return to Chamula. I kept thinking about how uncomfortable I would feel if a large group of Mexicans (just to turn the situation around) were visiting my church and standing in the back while I sat with my family in a pew and prayed. With this, I knew that we, as non-natives to Chamula, should not have been standing and watching others during their sacred, religious worship. As religion is so important to people across the globe, it is hard to fathom how people would have started visiting places like Chamula and making spectacle at the expense of others’ devoutness to a religion. Not even curiosity can justify such action, and I felt truly uncomfortable during my visit in San Juan Chamula.
In addition to this, when I returned to my host-family’s house after visiting Chamula, I began doing research about the church. While finding that the church is considered to be a “blend of Catholicism, the former pagan [Mayan] religion, and capitalism,”1 I found many instances where people were complaining of the begging done by children of Chamulan families. I just wish that short-term tourists who are making these pages would realize the daily trials that Mexican families face while trying to feed, house, and clothe their families. Without having seen the rest of the country, or having done prior research on the extent of poverty in Mexico, I feel as though tourists will never be able to fathom the horrid conditions that many are forced to call “home.”
With these ignorant viewpoints, I also was able to find a multitude of photographs and video of the inside of the San Juan Chamula church. As this footage is being spread throughout the internet, I cannot help but feel even worse for my visit inside of the church. Why can nothing be sacred anymore? With expanding technology, we are left to find that knowledge is more readily available. This knowledge, however, should not be at the expense of an entire town’s religious view.
1http://wild-net.com.au/mexico/html/san_cristobal_-_san_juan_chamu.phtml
Wait, I’m not Catholic…and I have no idea what you’re saying!
March 23rd, 2008
Easter is one of two holidays where I am able to see my entire family during the course of the year. Knowing that study abroad would overlap with this holiday, I knew that I would be missing out on having the traditional, semi-annual reunion with my extended family. Every year, my family and I wake up, making every attempt to wake up in time to attend church service, and we make our “rounds” visiting family and friends. As I knew that this was all still going on, but without me, I really felt homesick today. In hopes of quelling this yearning for home, I attended church service with my host mother. Knowing that most of the people in Mexico (approximately 77% of the population) are Catholic, I felt that I could assume that she, too, was a Catholic, which turned out to be true. Even though I knew she was most likely Catholic, I still agreed to go with her to mass.
As we entered the San Francisco, a medium-sized Catholic church about two blocks from “El Zocolo,” I saw people staring at me, mainly because I stand out quite a bit in Mexico. As if this didn’t make me feel uncomfortable enough, I slowly began to realize exactly how different Catholic mass and Protestant church services are. With the constant “up and down” motion, in addition to the blessings with Holy Water, I began to feel more and more uncomfortable in this church. On top of this, the entire service was, of course, in Spanish, so it made it quite difficult for me to understand much, if anything, that they were saying about Easter Sunday.
I was, however, able to understand two very important concepts during the mass. During the beginning of the service, I was able to translate parts of the Priest’s Spanish sermon concerning the fact that everyone around the world, no matter their language or nationality, was celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ. With this sermon, alone, I felt a bit more at ease and consoled about the fact that I could not be with my family. Even though I could not be with them, I was, at this time, reassured that we were still celebrating Easter together, regardless of the fact that I was in a different country. Being able to understand this also led me to comprehend the fact that language should not be a barrier for me. As much as I love other languages, I still felt frustrated during the service, as I felt that I could not accurately translate everything and felt excluded from fully participating in the service. In being able to understand this concept, however, I was reminded about the fact that languages are at the core of all societies and, in order to better inform myself of the world and various cultures, it is completely necessary for me to make every effort to learn other languages.
With this thought, I attempted to pick out more words and phrases within the sermon. One of the only other phrases that I understand was “escuchar a todo” within the middle of a sentence. Understanding this phrase alone showed me that I must expand my mind and truly attempt to learn as much as I can of everything. In my mind, this phrase spoke to me, telling me to hear others opinions without forcing judgment on other ideas, while simultaneously formulating my own opinions based on my collective knowledge.
I took this statement very seriously, especially my perception of our class on evolution. Although I am certain that the priest would not have wanted his message on Easter Sunday to provoke Catholics to open their minds to ideas such as evolution, I took this phrase as such, especially with my Christian background and my tendency to be closed minded. Even though I have already formulated my own ideas on religion and evolution, I felt that this Spanish sermon showed me that I need to learn to listen, even in other languages, in order to learn about other cultures and ideas to my maximum potential. Even through my exploration of Mexican culture have I felt that, at some points, I may have closed off some ideas of Mexican culture, such as aspects of the Spanish language, which was initially difficult for me, and cat-calls by Mexican men. I hope that, throughout the rest of the trip, that I will be able to continue to take this piece of the sermon to heart, enabling myself to continue my growth as a person and enhance my understanding of other ideas and Mexican culture.
Additionally, Easter Sunday was not as large of a celebration in Mexico as it is in the U.S. Unlike the U.S., where Easter festivities include pictures with the Easter Bunny, Easter baskets filled with miscellaneous candies, and grandiose celebrations with family and friends, the people of San Cristobal did not make Easter into such an extravagance. Rather, the people went to church to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and that was it! In my host family’s house, there wasn’t a family dinner or Easter candy, but it seemed as though the people took it as a regular day outside of the Catholic mass. As aforementioned, my family and I go to great lengths to celebrate Easter, so I was shocked that there wasn’t a “special dinner” in the house or mention of one in any of the other host family houses where other students are staying.
With this large difference, I began to question why. Why isn’t Easter a “big deal” in Mexico as it is in the U.S., especially after seeing how influential American Christmas festivities are on Mexican celebrations? I began to wonder if, possibly, because so much of the nation is Catholic, there is less of a celebration but, because I do not know much of American Catholic traditions, I feel that I cannot make this assumption. I also began to wonder, however, if American corporations have a large effect on Easter celebrations. With the lack of true significance of the Easter Bunny in the realm of Christianity, I could see how this would be a possibility. Potentially, Easter has become such a large corporately-influenced holiday that we, as Americans, are making this holiday into something larger than it is. Regardless, I cannot comprehend why Mexico hasn’t adopted it yet. Perhaps it is just a matter of time before Mexican children will be asking their parents to drive them to local malls to visit the Easter Bunny but, for now, I am still curious as to why they have not already started doing so.
Can we leave? I think I am going to be sick…
March 22nd, 2008
I was honestly excited to see a bull fight. After hearing about some of my friends’ experiences at bull fights, I thought that I would enjoy seeing the fight and the extravagant costumes of the fighters. When I told my parents that I was going to a bull fight, however, they warned me that they, too, had gone to one in Mexico and that Mexican bull fights, unlike bull fights in Spain, end in the death of the bull. Knowing this but not quite comprehending that “killing of the bull” really meant “murder of the bull,” I went to the bull fight and witnessed one of the most repulsive, immoral events I could have ever imagined.
Prior to the start of the bull fight, the bull fighters rode into the ring on horseback. While showing their horse riding skills and their strength, the men rallied the crowd, which was highly anticipating the entrance of the bull. Following this, the first bull entered, and the crowd roared. I, too, was excited, until the moment when I saw the large wound in the side of the bull. With this already inflicted wound, the bull was angered and chased after the men in the ring. As the bull neared, one of the men raised a large dagger in his hand and stabbed the bull again. At this moment, I knew that I really was not going to enjoy this.
We sat through the next three bull murders. I sat in shock, with my face in my hands, just in case I needed them to cover my eyes or to wipe away tears if I cried. All of us felt this way. But the crowd felt an emotion truly opposite from mine. With the loud cheers from the crowd, the bull fighters continued to increase their levels of brutality, which only resulted in more obnoxious cheers from the audience. Even a woman sitting next to me was cheering “Torro! Torro!” in order to show her support for the killing of the bull. All of the people in the audience were regular-looking Mexicans; it was not as if these people were the most brutal of all Mexicans and came to the bull fight to prove their love for violence. This, indeed, was a time when I realized that Mexican and American cultures are completely different.
I can only relate the emotions evoke within the bull fight’s audience members to my emotions at basketball games. While sitting in the stands, I become the obnoxious audience member that yells at the top of my lungs to the players and the coaching staff. I am not, however, yelling to the players to murder the other team’s members. To me, the passion I display through my yells seems normal, but to most of my friends, who are not basketball fans, I appear to be crazy. While I sat in the stands at the bull fight, I was viewing the audience members as crazy. Even though I still do not agree with the fact that the bull fighters did murder the bull, I cannot judge the fans. Bull fights resulting in the death of the bull is a part of Mexican culture, as basketball is a part of American culture. Although quite different in the outcome, bull fights and basketball can be equated to one another in the fact of the passion evoked within fans of the sporting events.
With this understanding, I realized that, if I had grown up in Mexico, my passion for basketball, most likely, would not exist. Rather, this passion may have been expressed at a bull fight, where my Mexican father would have taken me to a bull fight rather than a basketball game. With the parallels in passion for a sport, it is easy to see how Mexicans are able to enjoy the thrill of bull fights in a similar manner that I am able to enjoy the thrill of basketball games. Because of my cultural upbringing, I cannot understand the thrill of killing a bull, but I am able to comprehend that this would be possible and completely dependent on the cultural nature of one’s upbringing.
Goodbye, Merida! February 10th, 2008 As I write this blog entry, I am sitting on the bus driving to Kiuic, the biological reserve that I will be staying at for the next two weeks. Since we only left the Merida one hour ago, it is interesting to see that there is absolutely nothing outside of the city. Currently, we are driving on a small road through what appears to be a short tree forest, with the only sign of civilization being road signs and some power lines which lead to homes that are not visible at the current time. Unlike the U.S., there are no true suburban areas that I have seen, but, rather, it seems to be that many of the homes outside of the city are widespread. Some of the homes resemble the stucco homes in Merida, while others have only thatched or aluminum rooftops. I am sure that we will see many more of the thatched rooftop homes as we move even further into the jungles and towards areas mainly inhabited by Maya individuals. It was surprisingly easy to leave the city this morning. As I did not “anchor” myself that much into any aspects of the city, I felt that it was hardest to say goodbye to my host brother, who is 12 years old and always joked around with me. Otherwise, I am very excited to be seeing more of Mexico outside of the city. Although city life is “fun” and “exciting,” I would much rather be living in rougher conditions and experiencing something new than staying in a city for my entire study abroad experience! My desire to leave the city was expedited slightly after a small, yet extremely awkward moment that Allison and I had with our host mom. From no apparent reason, our toilet stopped working. Doesn’t seem to be that horrible, right? Well, according to our host mom, it was a very big deal. Because of the fact that you cannot flush toilet paper down toilets in Mexico, the immediate reason for our toilet’s inability to flush was assumed to be because we placed toilet paper in the toilet. Since neither Allison nor I placed toilet paper in the toilet, we told our host mom, but she did believe us. The next morning at breakfast, our host mom told us that we must pay for the toilet to be repaired by a plumber. Due to the fact that we did not break the toilet, we brought up the plumber issue with the coordinator at CIS. He agreed with us that we should not have to pay for the toilet repair, and he called our host mom to tell her this. The next day at breakfast, our host mom began asking us about our previous night in Campeche. Since we did not return home until 10 PM and she had already gone to sleep, she was asking us if we had taken a taxi home. When we told her “No,” she questioned us as to why we did not simply take a taxi, and continually stated that because the exchange rate is good from U.S. dollars to Mexican pesos, we should utilize the taxi system. Regardless of the exchange rate, I am a college student. Because the bus only costs $0.50 per ride, while the taxi costs $5.00 per ride, it is clear to see how constantly taking a taxi would rapidly drain my checking account. After trying to explain this to my host mom, she still insisted that we are American and because of this, we should easily be able to pay for the amenities in Mexico, including plumbing. From the statement, I knew that she had talked to the coordinator at CIS, and she was not willing to accept the fact that we were not paying for her plumbing issues. I understand that because she is a single, unemployed mother that it may be difficult to pay for plumbing repairs but, after hearing her thoughts on the supposedly “rich Americans,” I was a bit angered. From this, I was shocked at the extreme of which my host mom stereotyped Americans. As mentioned in a previous blog, my host mom described her stereotype of an American girl, and, not surprisingly, I fit the stereotype to a T. Her addition onto this stereotype, however, truly shocked me. Due to the fact that her prior description of an American girl was only superficial, the expansion on this description included her financial views on the U.S. According to my host mother, the U.S. is so affluent that we should be able to “live the good life” in Mexico without draining much of our bank account. Clearly, Mexicans stereotype Americans, just as Americans stereotype Mexicans. Why do we create certain stereotypes about other nationalities? Is there a basis upon which we formulate these descriptions that we further assume the rest of the nationality to fit? Indeed, stereotypes depend on the group of individuals that one is exposed. Because stereotypes are initially formulated via contact with a visiting group, many characteristics about the visiting group can be deduced. For example, the U.S. stereotype about Mexicans, although not politically correct, includes the phrase “dirty Mexicans” and will often evoke an image of many illegal immigrant, Mexican male individuals riding to work in the back of a pick-up truck. From this, it can be assumed that the population of Mexicans entering the country is poor and searching for jobs. From current Census statistics, there are 15.1 million Mexicans in the United States. Of these individuals, over 5.3 million are illegal, most of which crossed the border after being “recruited” by various corporations to do unskilled labor in the U.S. In addition, these immigrants are only making an average of $12,000 in the U.S. With the aforementioned, one can easily see how the Mexican stereotype can be formulated. Because Mexicans are entering the U.S. due to their low, and still decreasing, GDP in Mexico, the stereotype of Mexicans develops into one in which all Mexican individuals are poor. In addition, due to current levels of media coverage on illegal immigration into the U.S., it is assumed that all Mexicans are illegal but, as seen above, only one-third are actually illegal. Thus, the above perception does not take into consideration the entire Mexican population, but only those Mexicans which have entered the U.S. and had the opportunity to be stereotyped. Mexican stereotypes in regards to Americans have been formulated in a similar fashion. Because most Americans who visit Mexico due so for tourist reasons, Americans are generally stereotyped to be wealthy and able to spend endless amounts of money on non-essential things, such as luxurious hotels, souvenirs, and taxis. But this stereotype does not accurately represent all American citizens, especially poor, college students! How can this stereotyping of other nationalities be resolved? Honestly, I believe that there is no solution to correct individual perceptions about other groups of people. Stereotypes can only be made through contact, although this contact is often limited to only a select group of individuals. Only through diversifying the groups entering and/or visiting other countries will stereotypes begin to evolve into more accurate representations of a group but, then again, how accurate can a stereotype truly be? MACAY! February 8th, 2008 As required by the Dawleys, all students were to write blog about MACAY, a contemporary art museum in Centro. Since I have been to many art museums in the past, I did not experience any zeal when I was told to go to MACAY. To top this off, when I went to the museum for the first time last Tuesday, they were closed (the only day that the museum was closed was on Tuesday…aahh!). Being that it was the end of our last week in Merida, I forced myself to go to MACAY, where I was shockingly impressed with the featured works of art. The first display that I entered showed samples of art from Ileana Gutierrez. This display, which was entitled “Matices De Mi Tierra,” was the first of many exposures to art that stimulated my mind during my visit. As I looked around the room, I saw various scenes of the Merida area, including the usual market scene, full of fruits, vegetables, and locals; a view of the beach at Progresso; and a picturesque view of Centro. Within all of these samples of Gutierrez’s art, a single trend was seen throughout all of these: the presence of prism imagery. As each of these scenes was depicted as views through a multifaceted prism, variations in color and shapes were seen. Although each facet pieced together to show the complete picture, each facet showed a variation in perspective of the scene. Looking at the number of perspectives seen within each section of these paintings hyperbolized the extensive amount of views seen throughout the world on certain subject matters, including culture, religion, and politics. Because of this, Gutierrez creates a sort of critic of the views on these institutions, enabling her audience to question the basis of their views on a single, basic topic of varying perspectives This general trend of perspective variations pervaded throughout MACAY; “Luz Sonoma V” continues this trend. Shown as eight, square photographs of the ocean, this artwork was able to reveal another aspect upon which outlooks on one topic may arise. In this piece, for example, the complex motions of the waves are depicted, but at varying light intensities that result in the audience to view each of the paintings as different entities. After examination, however, it was evident that each of these photographs was of the same ocean wave sequence but could be determined as different views if quickly observed. In addition to this general theme of perspective variation, it became clear that only through further analysis of topics can additional perspectives be formulated. Without this expansion on analysis of topics, it seems as though a single view point would be created on a number of subject matter, thus creating less variation of viewpoints and destroying the ability for a number of institutionalized disciplines to exist. As I continued to walk through the exhibit and into one of the larger rooms with a multitude of abstract art pieces, I was approached by one of my classmates who insisted that he could not and would never be able to understand abstract art. In trying to encourage him, I told him that it was necessary to practically dissect the artwork and, from the observed pieces, formulate a conclusion on the pieces meaning. Even after trying to help him to comprehend one of the pieces, he refused to try and returned to another section which featured a number of portraits featuring portraits of varying individuals. Seeing his seemingly intolerable outlook in regard to abstract art made me question thoughts and resulting motives. Why is it necessary for people to completely discredit sub-disciplines of culture while trying to appear to comprehend all? Could this be a result of impatience, or does this lack of understanding stem from another source? As I had been recently evaluating a number of artworks, I immediately was able to relate his actions to the ability for variations in perspective to develop. In his perspective, the paintings seemed to be out of his grasp and understanding. In my perspective, however, these paintings had a lot of depth in which I could, in some instances, formulate a meaning for the painting. Another student on the trip, who had analyzed the same work of art, interpreted a different meaning, which provides additional support for the widespread theme of perspectives. As a true testimony to perspectives which pervade a number of cultural aspects, the piece entitled “Tierra y Blanca” provided me with a truly meaningful comprehension of outlook variation. Walking around the exhibit, this piece caught my attention solely because of the fact that it had French words on it; although this is completely a superficial observation, I was able to see within this piece a true definition of perspectives. Pieces of fabric, including tile, paper, and carpet, were spread over the piece. Each of the paper pieces were cut-outs from magazines, newspapers, and flyers, all of which showed either English, Spanish, or French text. Being that all of these are different forms of communication, one can see immediately that this piece was depicting the ability for perspectives to vary. Beyond this, the other textiles were cut into various shapes. In analyzing these shapes, however, I noticed a small, red arrow which directed a small, tile piece into a larger, wooden piece. The wooden piece had a chunk cut out of it, which was the exact size of the aforementioned tile piece. Noticing this small arrow and making this connection allowed me to see that the underlying languages were informalities behind the larger, more prominent textile cutouts. In relating this to society, it was evident that languages should not define barriers and, in realizing this, individuals should place more emphasis on the subject matter. This ability to essentially override seemingly superficial aspects of culture will allow for individuals to devise their perspectives rather than emphasizing potential societal barriers. In being able to realize this, I am able to say, in retrospect, that I truly enjoyed MACAY. From this experience, along with my preconception of my lack of interest in going to the museum, I realized that I had never truly evaluated the pieces of art on exhibit in art museums I had previously visited. Although this may be due to the fact that I visited them at a younger age, I can truly say that I now have a blossoming appreciation for contemporary art. What’s Tecoh? Oh, the place with the bullfighting ring… February 5th, 2008 The title of this blog entry is intentionally misleading, mainly because that is how I know many people felt after leaving Tecoh; however, after visiting Tecoh, I was completely distraught. Although our time at Tecoh was extremely short in comparison to our other site visits, I feel as though my time here truly opened my eyes into the history and culture of Maya Mexico. Prior to our arrival at Tecoh, we were told that we were stopping at a small town to see a cathedral. When we arrived, we exited the bus outside of a medium-sized bull fighting ring. Through reverting into my “tourism mode,” I began taking lots of pictures of the ring, especially since it was the first one that I had seen. Hugo, our tour guide, informed us that at this ring, the bull is killed at the end of the match. Although this is disturbing, this was not the source of my distress. Following the picture taking at the ring, we began walking up a small hill towards the cathedral. A hill? In the Yucatan?!? In fact, it wasn’t a hill. This small mound was the remnants of a Mayan structure, which was disassembled in order to use its cut limestone blocks to build the cathedral that we were visiting. Although the Cathedral in Merida was built in a similar fashion, I feel as though I didn’t quite comprehend the symbolism of this. Being able to actually see the remnants of a Maya structure underneath of the Cathedral in Tecoh made me realize the extent at which the Mayan culture was disturbed by the Spanish conquerors. I quickly began to question the ability of one culture to enter and destroy another. What makes this conquering culture feel as though they are superior and, thus, have the right to demolish sacred temples of another culture? Is there one culture that is right, while all of the rest are wrong? Both of these thoughts raced through my mind, yet I was unable to fathom either. I know that I am not the person to create a decisive answer to either of these questions, nor is any other person for that matter. I strongly believe that no one has the right to blatantly judge another culture and force their beliefs onto others. Because culture and the beliefs which accompany it are based upon the person’s society and individual choice, “outside” individuals should not feel as though it is their duty to convert and change the lifestyles of others. After this, I found myself questioning the presence of various celebratory streamers which, oddly enough, were draped from the bull fighting ring to the roof of the Cathedral. At this moment, my distress was at its peak, yet I found myself in denial. How could the Catholic Church promote such violent spectacles, upon which the observed being was killed at the end? After asking Hugo, however, it was confirmed that the church pays for the bull fighting ring as a part of the celebration of Carnaval. In every aspect, this church is corrupt. Not only was it created based upon the corrupt belief that the destruction of other cultures is acceptable, the church was now promoting the violence and drunkenness of Carnaval! I am not sure if I was disturbed based on my views of what the Catholic Church should be based upon, and I know that I will never be able to comprehend the source of my emotions. Through this realization, however, I became even more aware of the fact that various ideas and aspects of one’s culture will surface regardless of the individual’s location and surroundings. For me, this idea was further proven when, as I stood in front of the Cathedral, I saw a Mayan woman exiting the front doors of the church. Although the ancient Mayan structure which I was standing had been destroyed, the Mayan culture prevailed and pervades through many aspects of contemporary Mexican culture. Visit to the Governor’s Palace February 1st, 2008 Today was the second time that I visited the Palacio de Gobierno. In visiting a second time, I realized how little I learned the first time and was able to recognize the multitudes of information available to learn while looking at the featured paintings. When we arrived, the large murals, which are on the within the halls of the first and second levels, were all covered due to recent renovations and painting of the walls in the Palacio. There was, however, one room which featured many of the depictions of the fall of the Maya civilization while being conquered by the Spanish. I was able to view and interpret a few of the paintings, some of which I will share with you all. One painting, which is still very vivid in my mind, depicts Guererro, a Spaniard who was captured in Campeche during one of the first voyages to the Yucatan Peninsula. While all of the others were either put into slavery or killed, Guererro and Aguilar, another Spaniard on this particular voyage, were spared by the Maya. Guererro married a Mayan woman, and they had a child together; in this painting, the artist shows this family but, through color variations, the painting reveals much more. Guererro’s wife, who was the daughter of the chief of Chetumal, was colored red, which is often a color used to depict natives. Guererro, who was pictured in the center, was shown as a white color, all of which was mainly focused around his face; however, parts of him, which were touching either his child or his wife, were shown as a light red color. This red coloration shows his willingness to acculturate into Maya society, thus making him partially red. His face, which is the part of the body used to identify a person, is completely white, which shows the viewer that although he was willing to integrate into Maya culture, his true heritage stayed with him as he was always identified as a Spaniard. His child is shown as a mix of white and red, showing his heritage and the mixing of Spanish and Mayan blood to create the mestizaje race. Another fairly interesting aspect of the Spanish conquest was depicted in “Sale of Indians.” Within this painting, coloration of individuals is also used to show a deeper meaning within the history of the Maya civilization collapse. Within this painting, the Mayan people, who have a yellow coloration, are being taken away to be sold to Cuban slave traders. This bright, yellow coloration can be interpreted as either their continued hope for their lives and culture, or it can be determined as their origination from maize, which is described within the Maya “Popol Vuh.” Each of the Mayans are shown with sad expressions; large, pouty eyes; bowed heads; and slouched posture, all of which hyperbolize their emotions and sentiments as they are taken away to become slaves. This brightness from the yellow coloration contrasts with the gray background, which also symbolizes the anguish of the depicted situation. Within this gray coloration, a number of Spanish conquistadors are pictured. Each of the conquistadors are shown with the same face, which is a large head with very distinguishable facial features, including a beard and pronounced cheek bones. Through making each of the conquistadors have the same face, the artist is able to make them seem unified and lack a true identification of each individual Spaniard. In addition, two conquistadors in the front of the crowd are shown slyly passing a bag of gold, while still keeping their visual attention on the Maya people. Through this, a number of aspects of symbolism is represented. First, the passing of a large bag of gold shows the focus of the conquest and the Spaniards’ desire to take over the Yucatan in order to benefit themselves while forcing an entire civilization into extinction. The bag is also colored red, which indicates the corruption behind the Spaniards’ actions, especially since their focus was to locate the sources of gold within the Yucatan. Through both of these, this symbolic passing of gold shows the apathetic views of the Spaniards and their lack of concern for the Mayan people; this is especially emphasized due to the fact that while secretly passing the gold, the men are gathering and selling the Maya in order to further benefit themselves. Although the paintings in the museum were extremely enlightening on the culture and history of the Yucatan, I found the setting and various slight observations to be extremely useful in extending my knowledge of this history. When I entered the room of the paintings, I first saw a woman speaking with her grandson about the descriptions of the paintings. Even though she did not appear to be Mayan, she was translating each word of the Mayan description into Spanish. From what I could understand in their Spanish conversation, she seemed to be telling him about the history in Mayan not only to teach him some Mayan vocabulary, but also to emphasize the meaning behind the paintings. Because each of the paintings depicts some form of Mayan life and culture, her use of the Mayan language truly placed an emphasis on the importance of completely comprehending the many aspects of history, including the emotions and culture of historical individuals, rather than simply memorizing facts and dates. In addition to this, I couldn’t help but look outside of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the room as I analyzed the historical paintings. Through the windows, a picturesque view of Merida could be seen, including Centro and the Cathedral. Beyond these structures, however, I continued to look at the actions of the people. With the rush of afternoon traffic, the rapid movement of the people, and the preparations going on for Carnaval, I was seeing how the past can truly impact individuals of today. This view of a Westernized Mexican city made me question the true impact of conquering of the Maya. Without the demise of the Maya, would contemporary Merida appear as it does today? Without the conquest, the Palacio de Gobierno would not exist, and I, most likely, would not be visiting Merida. If the Maya had not been conquered by the Spanish, would the same fate have resulted from a conquest by the Aztecs? What if the Maya were never conquered? Could the Mayan plaza which once existed in place of the streets and Centro still be standing and, potentially, still be used to practice Maya rituals? Because history can’t be changed, I am only left to ponder these unanswerable questions. Even though I am unable to formulate answers to these questions, I was able to realize that, although the Palacio and the visible Cathedral are beautiful, all of the structures of Merida were built only after millions of Maya individuals were displaced from their homes, sold as slaves, and faced with numerous trials full of pain and sorrow. Through the misery of the conquest, however, my mind was quelled as I remembered the woman speaking to her grandchild, reminding me of the strength of the Maya in their ability to continue their culture and language even after such horrible events. Thus, although history cannot be changed, nor can future events be determined, the influence of the Maya in multiple aspects of Yucatecan culture shows the ability for a culture to persist, but only through the perseverance of individuals will this occur. My thought-provoking bus rides January 28, 2008 I can not believe it is our fifth week studying abroad! Through these past five weeks, I have really been learning a lot about the culture and history of Mexico, especially since the start of our Maya course. Since starting the Maya course, I feel as though my eyes have opened a bit more to the actions of people, rather than the more easily noticeable and superficial aspects of Mexico. Although it is true that many aspects of Mexico are drastically different from the United States, I feel as though the actions of the people are extremely different as well. I began noticing these differences when I saw a woman openly praying on the bus. In the U.S., I feel as though someone who blessed herself on a public transportation vehicle would be looked at differently, as if the person was in the wrong place to be displaying devotion to God. In Mexico, however, religious displays are done openly. As I drive on the bus in the morning (yes, I do learn a lot while riding the bus for an hour a day!), I see many houses ornamented with Christian crosses, pictures of the Virgin Mary, and rosary beads. Also, if you haven't seen my pictures of my room, I have an extremely large crucifix hanging over my bed. Clearly, openly displaying religion in Mexico is not as "taboo" as it may seem in the United States. Why is the U.S. general public so adverse to such religious displays? Wasn't our country founded in order to escape religious prosecution and, thus, worship as we please? With these thoughts, I began wondering why Mexicans are able to pray on a bus, or display crucifixes in their front yards, without causing disturbances. It turns out that the Mexican population is 76.5% Catholic. Immediately, it was evident to me that, because the United States is so diverse in the numbers of religions, many people find it to be offensive to openly display religious devotion in public. In retrospect, this seems to be an "obvious" fact, and possibly something that I should have picked up on my own. But, in the moment when I saw this woman praying, I immediately felt that she was out of place by praying on the bus. The fact that my views of public religious displays have conformed to the American idea that this is "wrong" had not dawned upon me until I found the aforementioned statistic. With this realization that I was, again, following the American stereotype made me feel horrible. I began to wonder why I constantly follow the ways of my American culture. I remember learning the definition of "culture" in my 8th grade "World Cultures" class. "Culture is that complex whole which includes knowledge, beliefs, arts, morals, laws, customs, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by people as members of society." In 8th grade, this definition seemed just like a multitude of words. Through my experiences in Mexico thus far, however, I am beginning to understand the many aspects of the definition of culture. My culture is mainly influenced by the United States, and ONLY the United States. Through living in Mexico, however, I am realizing that the U.S. and Spain have such a strong influence on Mexican culture. Why is Mexican culture integrated with other cultures, while American culture isolates itself from the world? Is it because of prior conquest in Mexico, or because Mexico is "weak?” I feel that it is neither of these options. In all honesty, I believe that Mexico is more open to other cultures, while the U.S. seems to be more unwilling to integrate other cultures into our culture. With this understanding of Mexican culture, in comparison to American culture, I began analyzing the issue of immigration into the United States. Last semester, I took a sociology class on U.S. immigration and, while learning about the contemporary issues of immigration, I began wondering about Mexican immigration and why immigrants are hated by so many U.S. citizens. And, by living in Mexico for the past five weeks, I am realizing that it is because the U.S. is a very arrogant country (I can not think of any other way to put it). We constantly feel as though we are better than everyone else, hence why we do not allow other cultures to integrate into our own. Rather, we expect immigrating individuals to conform to our society and to practically abandon their own culture. On the contrary, Mexicans are willing to learn about other cultures, as well as integrating aspects of other cultures into their own. Although religious views may be the same for many Mexican citizens, they seem to be more willing to accept other’s lifestyles, as well, which allows me to see that the establishment of a hybrid culture may be more inviting to the expansion of culture and, thus, enable the elimination of judgment of others. Through this brief sight of religious display, the idea that religion should not be displayed in public is just one aspect of my American culture that I have realized during my stay in Merida. From this, I have come to learn that, as humans, we are only able to learn more about ourselves through life experiences. As I had mentioned before, I missed my blowdryer. As funny as this may sound, I realized my dependence on technology through this desire for a blowdryer. In addition, I have realized that I am more unaware of other cultures than I had originally thought. Because of the fact that my American culture continues to surface throughout this trip, I am realizing that I have a lot to learn about the world.
Home is Where the Heart Is