The room is empty and my bags are packed. In five hours, I will be on my way to Mexico City to spend one last night in Mexico. Danny and I got a nice hotel and plan to have one last toast and go out in style. I came home last night around 4:30am after spending my last night with my dear friend here. However, there was no pill strong enough to make me sleep. I watched the sun rise, blazing over the neighboring jacaranda trees and I thought about how much I appreciated the warmth of the Mexican sun when I arrived in January. No offense Minnesota, but it truly does make a difference to have more vitamin D.
The day began with my roommate and I making our last trip to the amazing bakery by our school. As we walked, we reminisced about the places we visited, the people we met there, and the incredible memories we made together. As we sipped coffee, a huge smile spread across my face as it became obvious how incredible my time here was.
Despite my shaking hands and the constant butterflies I cannot shake, I know eventually any sadness about what I’m leaving, or fear about what I will face when I return will be surpassed by my overwhelming confidence in the fact that I know for certain in my heart I lived my life the fullest in Mexico. I allowed myself to take risks, I connected deeply with people here and made lifelong friends, and surprisingly, I allowed my apprehensions to fall to the wayside and got on a stranger’s motorcycle. I burned my leg on the exhaust pipe and I now have a scar I believe will last my entire life. But, this scar will not serve as a reminder to be careful. In fact, it stands as the opposite, it will forever remind me of the amazing adventures you find when you let go and let your heart lead you.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Money Talks As Loud As Rocks
We’ve all heard the story before, a peaceful town is invaded by a corporate force and before you know your table is no longer set with fresh vegetables bought from the farmer’s market, but rather horrible, mass produced pseudo-meat products and generic flatware. The local competition practically dissipates in the middle of the night. Even the hands that once held picket signs protesting the monopolized take over, now reach for “the best value, at the best price.”
I have seen this in my own hometown with the arrival of Wal Mart. Many locals cried out, forewarning that by allowing Wal Mart to build on the outskirts of town, the business would be drained out of our beloved main street. Now, grant it our main street at the time donned three antique shops, a dog bathing business and an insurance firm, their premonitions were justified nonetheless. However, ironically, a few months later, these oracles were seen stocking up on half-priced back-to-school supplies at, where else, Wal Mart.
Well, you can be sure that the same scenario happens over and over around the world. Here, instead of a giant smiley face as a nemesis, Mexicanos have the giant pelican to fear. The giant pelican is the symbol for the Wal Mart equivalent: Comercial Mexicana. Comercial Mexicana is a chain of supermarkets and restaurants that has outgrown local markets, local governments, and local cries that protested the construction of Comercial Mexicana stores on land illegally obtained. So, I wonder: Who are these people and what planet do they come from?
I think we will all be in accord when I say corporations are comprised of people (okay, and occasionally robots). And usually, the main work force of these corporations include local citizens of the areas they wish to reside in. So if this is the case, at what point do corporations seem to become so detached from their communities, and in essence, humanity? Is it a case of powerlessness, in which David doesn’t actually hit Goliath with the small rock, but rather misses and Goliath forces him to buy two sets of flatware for the price of one? OR is it a case of corporations just giving the public what it demands: convenience in exchange for freedom?
In a state of Neoliberalism, it’s hard to point fingers at competitors for competing. As one business man here in Mexico puts it, “business has no nationality.” However, I would have to disagree with this and say if a business has employees, it has nationality. I am almost certain that the employees at the Mega here in Mexico either live next to, or know somebody who is a local vendor. And at the least they are all citizens of Mexico and care about the state of their communities.
Maybe it’s a more a question of citizen voice. How much “say” (actions or words) do you feel you have in the economics of your community? Where is your own business nationality? Because when it comes down to it, David isn’t actually holding a rock, he’s holding dinero, and he can decide which Goliath to pay.
I have seen this in my own hometown with the arrival of Wal Mart. Many locals cried out, forewarning that by allowing Wal Mart to build on the outskirts of town, the business would be drained out of our beloved main street. Now, grant it our main street at the time donned three antique shops, a dog bathing business and an insurance firm, their premonitions were justified nonetheless. However, ironically, a few months later, these oracles were seen stocking up on half-priced back-to-school supplies at, where else, Wal Mart.
Well, you can be sure that the same scenario happens over and over around the world. Here, instead of a giant smiley face as a nemesis, Mexicanos have the giant pelican to fear. The giant pelican is the symbol for the Wal Mart equivalent: Comercial Mexicana. Comercial Mexicana is a chain of supermarkets and restaurants that has outgrown local markets, local governments, and local cries that protested the construction of Comercial Mexicana stores on land illegally obtained. So, I wonder: Who are these people and what planet do they come from?
I think we will all be in accord when I say corporations are comprised of people (okay, and occasionally robots). And usually, the main work force of these corporations include local citizens of the areas they wish to reside in. So if this is the case, at what point do corporations seem to become so detached from their communities, and in essence, humanity? Is it a case of powerlessness, in which David doesn’t actually hit Goliath with the small rock, but rather misses and Goliath forces him to buy two sets of flatware for the price of one? OR is it a case of corporations just giving the public what it demands: convenience in exchange for freedom?
In a state of Neoliberalism, it’s hard to point fingers at competitors for competing. As one business man here in Mexico puts it, “business has no nationality.” However, I would have to disagree with this and say if a business has employees, it has nationality. I am almost certain that the employees at the Mega here in Mexico either live next to, or know somebody who is a local vendor. And at the least they are all citizens of Mexico and care about the state of their communities.
Maybe it’s a more a question of citizen voice. How much “say” (actions or words) do you feel you have in the economics of your community? Where is your own business nationality? Because when it comes down to it, David isn’t actually holding a rock, he’s holding dinero, and he can decide which Goliath to pay.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Trust
Well, after three days, the man who stood me up finally called…to reveal “he wasn’t feeling well on Saturday.” Needless to say, this defense was less than sufficient.
However, in an attempt to be resilient, the immense reevaluation that is rendered from moments like this in a relationship are absolutely invaluable, even if they never produce any clear absolutes. I found myself Monday morning, still sans phone call, thinking, ’Okay, so if I never hear from this guy again, what do I take away from all this?’ And despite scanning my entire heart for a lesson learned, I still haven’t found any answers. I did, however, find another question: When is it okay to trust someone?
I decided to explore this question today when I was on the bus with a woman I regard here as A Golden Person, meaning somebody I have found to be incredible in the way they live their life, thus forever elevating my standard of living. And truly, this woman has an inspiring spirit, encapsulating great compassion everyday, despite tribulations I cannot even comprehend in my twenty-two years of life. As with every conversation I have with this woman, I was sure I would gain some new insight.
I began telling her my situation, sparing no details about everything this man did that made me think he was trustworthy. On and on I went about our conversations, our adventures, even the look in his eyes that made me so sure that he was a sincere man of genuine character. I mean, this man had been one of my best friends here for the last two months, how could he possibly tell me he wants to see me and then not call for three days with no consideration of my feelings. AND THEN to tell me the reasons for his actions were that he just simply didn’t feel good…who is this guy?!
And then, in the mists of my rant, a sharp realization stopped me, I was speaking to a woman who’s husband decided to have an affair after fifteen years of marriage.
This realization froze my flow of words and all I could do was look at this incredible woman, whose eyes have never lost their warm, inviting gleam in all the time I have known her. I stared at her for what must have been five minutes before I mustered under my breath the question, “How do you survive?” And for a minute I noticed her strong, but kind eyes, change to reveal what I would label as human vulnerability.
She told me she survives by taking in the small joys in life, everyday picking out the small trinkets that make life beautiful. Then, she looked at me and stated very matter-of-factly, “I am happy when I am doing what I enjoy doing.” A simple, but powerful phrase, because within this phrase the source of your happiness is simply yourself.
I made a promise to myself about a year ago that I would never lose my faith in love. No matter how many heartbreaks I go through, I will always find a way to someday enter again into a relationship with a willingness to once again try to truly care for another person to the best of my ability. Grant it, this is exactly why I don’t love often. However, realizing the fact that I am young and my heart has many risks to extract from, my principle love is myself and for the rest of my time here in Mexico, I will exercise doing what I enjoy doing.
However, in an attempt to be resilient, the immense reevaluation that is rendered from moments like this in a relationship are absolutely invaluable, even if they never produce any clear absolutes. I found myself Monday morning, still sans phone call, thinking, ’Okay, so if I never hear from this guy again, what do I take away from all this?’ And despite scanning my entire heart for a lesson learned, I still haven’t found any answers. I did, however, find another question: When is it okay to trust someone?
I decided to explore this question today when I was on the bus with a woman I regard here as A Golden Person, meaning somebody I have found to be incredible in the way they live their life, thus forever elevating my standard of living. And truly, this woman has an inspiring spirit, encapsulating great compassion everyday, despite tribulations I cannot even comprehend in my twenty-two years of life. As with every conversation I have with this woman, I was sure I would gain some new insight.
I began telling her my situation, sparing no details about everything this man did that made me think he was trustworthy. On and on I went about our conversations, our adventures, even the look in his eyes that made me so sure that he was a sincere man of genuine character. I mean, this man had been one of my best friends here for the last two months, how could he possibly tell me he wants to see me and then not call for three days with no consideration of my feelings. AND THEN to tell me the reasons for his actions were that he just simply didn’t feel good…who is this guy?!
And then, in the mists of my rant, a sharp realization stopped me, I was speaking to a woman who’s husband decided to have an affair after fifteen years of marriage.
This realization froze my flow of words and all I could do was look at this incredible woman, whose eyes have never lost their warm, inviting gleam in all the time I have known her. I stared at her for what must have been five minutes before I mustered under my breath the question, “How do you survive?” And for a minute I noticed her strong, but kind eyes, change to reveal what I would label as human vulnerability.
She told me she survives by taking in the small joys in life, everyday picking out the small trinkets that make life beautiful. Then, she looked at me and stated very matter-of-factly, “I am happy when I am doing what I enjoy doing.” A simple, but powerful phrase, because within this phrase the source of your happiness is simply yourself.
I made a promise to myself about a year ago that I would never lose my faith in love. No matter how many heartbreaks I go through, I will always find a way to someday enter again into a relationship with a willingness to once again try to truly care for another person to the best of my ability. Grant it, this is exactly why I don’t love often. However, realizing the fact that I am young and my heart has many risks to extract from, my principle love is myself and for the rest of my time here in Mexico, I will exercise doing what I enjoy doing.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Love In Any Form Is Never Trivial
Today, being it was Easter Sunday, I decided to pursue a spiritual experience. For me, Easter is about reflecting on blessings and new beginnings, and what better place to do that then on top of a mountain. So, today was the day I decided to go to nearby town called Tepotzotlan. Tepotzotlan is a small, but bustling town nestled among rolling hills and blooming jacaranda trees. The name “Tepotzotlan” is actually derived from a náhuatl word meaning "among hunchbacks,“ referring to the high mountains which resemble humps.
However, before I actually arrived in Tepotzotlan, I decided to meet with some friends at a small café called, “Café de Poetas” or “The Poets Café”. This café has become one of my “usual” spots here due to the amazing sandwiches and the owners allowing me to plug in my iPod and single-handedly control the music selection that blares from two, huge speakers down the cobblestone streets next to the Palacio de Cortez. It’s quite an empowering feeling.
However, when I arrived at the café it was closed, so I settled on a ledge plugged in my iPod and began to hydrate for the challenging climb ahead. It wasn’t long until one of the employees of the café came walking by and sat next to me.
(translated from Spanish)
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much, I’m going to Tepo. today to climb the mountain.”
“Oh very cool! Yeah I’m supposed to open the café today, but I’m so tired. Do you want some company in Tepotzotlan?”
“I’m going with my friends, but sure, why not.”
And just like that, the café remained closed and we added a fourth compadre to our excursion.
The hike was hard. If it wasn’t for the inspirational scene of countless people twice my age passing me (one barefoot), it would have taken me ‘till sundown. But, I did indeed make it to the top to behold a stunning view. I sat there, back against a pyramid, overlooking the valley of mountains. I watched the birds circle above me and pondered, ‘how in the world did a group of people build an entire pyramid up here.’
However, as much as I’d like to reveal a deep and profound realization, most of my thoughts were centered around something quite trivial. I could not stop thinking about how a man, whom I have truly come to care about here, stood me up Saturday night and still hadn’t called to apologize. Over and over I tried to solve the age-old riddle of, “why do people make promises they don’t intend to keep”. If I had come up with anything, I promise I would share it with you all, but I’m still at square one.
Although, something did occur to me: as people, we are so desperate to be loved. Whether that love comes from God, our family, our friends, or an alluring man with a motorcycle, it’s this innate craving that will always dominate us. It’s also this primal pursuit that brings out both the best and the worst in us, and if there’s any holiday that demonstrates that, it’s Easter; and if there’s any guy who understands the pursuit of perfect love among imperfect people, it’s Jesus. But it’s exactly this search for love that defines our lives. In fact, I sincerely hope that on my final day I can say it was the pursuit to receive and give love that presided over my actions and defined my life. And I guess when I take on that perspective, thinking about a man when I’m sitting on top of the world doesn’t seem so trivial after all.
However, before I actually arrived in Tepotzotlan, I decided to meet with some friends at a small café called, “Café de Poetas” or “The Poets Café”. This café has become one of my “usual” spots here due to the amazing sandwiches and the owners allowing me to plug in my iPod and single-handedly control the music selection that blares from two, huge speakers down the cobblestone streets next to the Palacio de Cortez. It’s quite an empowering feeling.
However, when I arrived at the café it was closed, so I settled on a ledge plugged in my iPod and began to hydrate for the challenging climb ahead. It wasn’t long until one of the employees of the café came walking by and sat next to me.
(translated from Spanish)
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much, I’m going to Tepo. today to climb the mountain.”
“Oh very cool! Yeah I’m supposed to open the café today, but I’m so tired. Do you want some company in Tepotzotlan?”
“I’m going with my friends, but sure, why not.”
And just like that, the café remained closed and we added a fourth compadre to our excursion.
The hike was hard. If it wasn’t for the inspirational scene of countless people twice my age passing me (one barefoot), it would have taken me ‘till sundown. But, I did indeed make it to the top to behold a stunning view. I sat there, back against a pyramid, overlooking the valley of mountains. I watched the birds circle above me and pondered, ‘how in the world did a group of people build an entire pyramid up here.’
However, as much as I’d like to reveal a deep and profound realization, most of my thoughts were centered around something quite trivial. I could not stop thinking about how a man, whom I have truly come to care about here, stood me up Saturday night and still hadn’t called to apologize. Over and over I tried to solve the age-old riddle of, “why do people make promises they don’t intend to keep”. If I had come up with anything, I promise I would share it with you all, but I’m still at square one.
Although, something did occur to me: as people, we are so desperate to be loved. Whether that love comes from God, our family, our friends, or an alluring man with a motorcycle, it’s this innate craving that will always dominate us. It’s also this primal pursuit that brings out both the best and the worst in us, and if there’s any holiday that demonstrates that, it’s Easter; and if there’s any guy who understands the pursuit of perfect love among imperfect people, it’s Jesus. But it’s exactly this search for love that defines our lives. In fact, I sincerely hope that on my final day I can say it was the pursuit to receive and give love that presided over my actions and defined my life. And I guess when I take on that perspective, thinking about a man when I’m sitting on top of the world doesn’t seem so trivial after all.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Today I Hate Numbers
I am currently sitting in an air-conditioned Starbucks feeling the most “in-my-element” I’ve felt since January. What this says about my heritage, I don’t really care to explore at the moment. All I know is that I am so happy to have a venti café del dia in my hand right now. However, despite my blissful leisure, I find myself thinking about the kids I work with at VAMOS.
Statistically, these kids are one of many. One of many children who are labeled as “low income”, “underprivileged,” “undereducated”, and my personal label of, “lacking opportunities that other kids have, which is supposed to be directly correlated to their projected success.” But the problem with all of these labels is that they were derived from a top-down view of statistics. On ground level, when you are face-to-face with a young person, you will find it impossible to say or even think of classifying that young person with one of those labels. They are not a statistic, they are a person, and they most certainly are not limited. So what use are these statistics anyways?
Typically, statistics are used to numerically connect things to our world so that we can find relevance among them. However, usually, statistics are used by people to gain insight into another world, a glimpse into something that is not their own, thus the need for numerical description. If asked, I could not provide you with one statistic that I use to describe myself. And if you were asked, I highly doubt you could provide many negative statistics you identify with. And if you do identify with a negative statistic, you probably only use it to defend yourself to others. My point is, a kid who goes to VAMOS will never need to know any statistics that tells them they’re limited.
And with that considered, if they don’t need to know these statistics, why do I? I’ve been working in education for the last four years and to me, statistics only present a present state, not a future goal. And even if they are statistics that shine an optimistic light, they only tell me how a child did on their last test or how attendance has improved. Statistics have never once relayed to me how a child feels more empowered.
And in case there are some stats fans reading this, here is the reason numbers are bothering me today: when it comes to kids “lacking opportunities that other kids have which is supposed to be directly correlated to their projected success,” they are so often grouped into numbers to give others an insight into their world. But I don’t see these kids as numbers and I don’t want others to. I could go home after this experience and relay these statistics: “I worked in a classroom of about 20 kids. About 50% of these kids are reading and writing at a proficient level. I sit between two kids, ages 6 and 11, both working on the same math problem.” But, these numbers say nothing about the 11-year-old’s determination and resourcefulness. They also don’t say anything about the incredible, artistic talent the 6-year-old has. And without this information, these children are only numbers, and like I said before, today I am not a fan of numbers. I am a fan of information that highlights a child’s potential rather than their limits.
Statistically, these kids are one of many. One of many children who are labeled as “low income”, “underprivileged,” “undereducated”, and my personal label of, “lacking opportunities that other kids have, which is supposed to be directly correlated to their projected success.” But the problem with all of these labels is that they were derived from a top-down view of statistics. On ground level, when you are face-to-face with a young person, you will find it impossible to say or even think of classifying that young person with one of those labels. They are not a statistic, they are a person, and they most certainly are not limited. So what use are these statistics anyways?
Typically, statistics are used to numerically connect things to our world so that we can find relevance among them. However, usually, statistics are used by people to gain insight into another world, a glimpse into something that is not their own, thus the need for numerical description. If asked, I could not provide you with one statistic that I use to describe myself. And if you were asked, I highly doubt you could provide many negative statistics you identify with. And if you do identify with a negative statistic, you probably only use it to defend yourself to others. My point is, a kid who goes to VAMOS will never need to know any statistics that tells them they’re limited.
And with that considered, if they don’t need to know these statistics, why do I? I’ve been working in education for the last four years and to me, statistics only present a present state, not a future goal. And even if they are statistics that shine an optimistic light, they only tell me how a child did on their last test or how attendance has improved. Statistics have never once relayed to me how a child feels more empowered.
And in case there are some stats fans reading this, here is the reason numbers are bothering me today: when it comes to kids “lacking opportunities that other kids have which is supposed to be directly correlated to their projected success,” they are so often grouped into numbers to give others an insight into their world. But I don’t see these kids as numbers and I don’t want others to. I could go home after this experience and relay these statistics: “I worked in a classroom of about 20 kids. About 50% of these kids are reading and writing at a proficient level. I sit between two kids, ages 6 and 11, both working on the same math problem.” But, these numbers say nothing about the 11-year-old’s determination and resourcefulness. They also don’t say anything about the incredible, artistic talent the 6-year-old has. And without this information, these children are only numbers, and like I said before, today I am not a fan of numbers. I am a fan of information that highlights a child’s potential rather than their limits.
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