In lieu of actual words from me, I have some song lyrics to share. This is a relatively recent song, so I may change my mind in the future, but right now I'm claiming this as my theme song. It's by Point of Grace, and the tune is pretty catchy.
Wake up to the sunlight with your windows open
Don't hold in your anger or leave things unspoken
Wear your red dress, use your good dishes
Make a big mess and make lots of wishes
And have what you want, but want what you have
And don't spend your life looking back
Face it and you'll be okay
(Chorus: )
Turn up the music Turn it up loud
Take a few chances and let it all out '
Cause you won't regret it
Looking back from where you have been
'Cause it's not who you knew
And it's not what you did
It's how you live
So go to the ballgames and go to the ballet
And go see your folks more than just on the holidays
Kiss all your children, dance with your wife
Tell your husband you love him every night
Don't run from the truth 'cause you can't get away, no
Face it and you'll be okay
(Chorus)
Oh, wherever you are and wherever you've been
Now is the time to begin
So give to the needy, and pray for the grieving
Even when you don't think that you can
'Cause all that you do is bound to come back to you
So think of your fellow man
And make peace with God, and make peace with yourself
'Cause in the end, there's nobody else
Face it and you'll be okay
(Chorus)
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
When I DON"T like living in Mexico
Most of the time, I'm thrilled to be here. And the days that I'm not so excited about living here are mainly caused my homesickness, not actual displeasure.
But every once in a while, I have one of those days. When all of the major annoyances of living in mexico combine in a ridiculous example of why this is a still-developing country:
But every once in a while, I have one of those days. When all of the major annoyances of living in mexico combine in a ridiculous example of why this is a still-developing country:
- When the traffic is horrible and the pollution is worse.
- When I'm an hour late to work bc of traffic and no one thinks that's a problem.
- When there is an unexpected brownout or blackout
- When I can't make copies, use the internet, imput grades, send email, etc. bc of the brownout and everyone thinks I should have a normal teaching schedule despite the fact
- When I can't find US news on CNN
- When finding a reliable internet connection strong enough to broadcast US news is nearly impossible, esp. when there's really important news happening
- When the lady at Starbucks speaks to us in heavily accented spanish bc she assumes we can't order a venti latte in Spanish (the words are the same bad italian in any language)
- When I can't get this season's episodes of my favorite shows
- When I can't find English language books, magazines, newspapers, movies, music, radio stations, TV shows, movies...
sigh
Proud to be an American
Tuesday was the inauguration of the United States' new president. No matter how we feel about him as our president, the inauguration of a completely new commander-in-chief is unusual, esp. for my students. Many of them only remember 1 president - or they have only been alive for 1!
And, for good or for bad, the president of the united states and his decisions & policies affect all of my students - Americans, Canadians, Mexicans, Koreans, and Latino-Korean-Americans ;)
Some of the students were less than excited to celebrate the inauguration.
One of my 3rd graders told me that he hates the new president bc he kills babies (I tried to explain how he's never actually killed any yet...)
Another 3rd or 4th grader asked if he would be assasinated and when and by who. *sigh* no ritalin in Mexico...
The canadians refused to be excited, refused to wear red, white, or blue, and also stood in direct protest when we sang our national anthem and recited our pledge.
But some were really excited.
my one student with some african ancestors (i'm not sure who or where) was thrilled to celebrate the first black president.
some of my embassy kids clearly come from democrat-leaning US households
A few of the high schoolers love politics and were mainly excited to see history being made, regardless of the new president's policies
Most of the jr. high and sr. high students wanted time out of class!
My most outspoken korean student spent the entire inauguration looking for asians on the screen - and was thrilled to learn that Obama's sister and brother-in-law are asian
Despite 2 hours of horrible internet connection, merely reinforcing the fact that we are expatriates living in a still-developing country, it was still a great day to be an American!
And, for good or for bad, the president of the united states and his decisions & policies affect all of my students - Americans, Canadians, Mexicans, Koreans, and Latino-Korean-Americans ;)
Some of the students were less than excited to celebrate the inauguration.
One of my 3rd graders told me that he hates the new president bc he kills babies (I tried to explain how he's never actually killed any yet...)
Another 3rd or 4th grader asked if he would be assasinated and when and by who. *sigh* no ritalin in Mexico...
The canadians refused to be excited, refused to wear red, white, or blue, and also stood in direct protest when we sang our national anthem and recited our pledge.
But some were really excited.
my one student with some african ancestors (i'm not sure who or where) was thrilled to celebrate the first black president.
some of my embassy kids clearly come from democrat-leaning US households
A few of the high schoolers love politics and were mainly excited to see history being made, regardless of the new president's policies
Most of the jr. high and sr. high students wanted time out of class!
My most outspoken korean student spent the entire inauguration looking for asians on the screen - and was thrilled to learn that Obama's sister and brother-in-law are asian
Despite 2 hours of horrible internet connection, merely reinforcing the fact that we are expatriates living in a still-developing country, it was still a great day to be an American!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Beathtaking Butterflies (Monarcas en las Montanas de Michoacan)
Yesterday, we went to the Monarch Butterfly Reserve in Michoacan, Mexico. It's about a 2 hour drive from our house in Toluca. It's become popular for people to drive from all over Mexico to see the monarchs, and also for North Americans to travel to Mexico in the winter just to see them. I don't think I'd ever spend that kind of money just to see butterflies, so we decided to see them while we were so close.
The Monarch Butterflies spend their summers near the Great Lakes of the US & Canada and their winters hibernating in central Mexico. While they're here, they mainly just sleep in the trees and try to soak up as much sunshine as possible.
I think the butterflies are natural snowbirds.
Which was pretty funny, considering that most of the North Americans who came to see them (this weekend at least) were also early retirees - snowbirds themselves, most likely. We definitely stood out, speaking accented Spanish but looking very gringo, hiking with appropriate difficulty up to see the butterflies.
It's a 2 hour drive from our house to the reserve, then a 90-minute uphill climb to the trees where the butterflies are spending their winter. After about 15 minutes, the crowds overpower the sense of awe, and we started back down the mountain.
But was it worth it?
Definitely.
Mainly bc now I can cross something else off my list of things to see and do in Mexico, but also bc I can identify with those butterflies. They flew here all the way from MI (or somewhere close) and all they want to do, when they get here, is to soak up the sun and hang out with other butterflies. The least I can do is climb up the mountain and appreciate their travels.
Unfortunately, these butterflies will never see the great lakes again. They'll mate in Mexico, and then the males will die here. The females will fly en masse back to the southeastern US in April, where they will lay their eggs before they die. The caterpillars will hatch, morph into new monarchs and then go north. (Some of those butterflies will mate again in the Great Lakes region.)
I'm very thankful that we get to share our Mexican experienes with many generations of our families, whether they can visit us here or not, and that we get to go home and tell others about it.
But monarchs may always symbolize this trip for me.
The Monarch Butterflies spend their summers near the Great Lakes of the US & Canada and their winters hibernating in central Mexico. While they're here, they mainly just sleep in the trees and try to soak up as much sunshine as possible.
I think the butterflies are natural snowbirds.
Which was pretty funny, considering that most of the North Americans who came to see them (this weekend at least) were also early retirees - snowbirds themselves, most likely. We definitely stood out, speaking accented Spanish but looking very gringo, hiking with appropriate difficulty up to see the butterflies.
It's a 2 hour drive from our house to the reserve, then a 90-minute uphill climb to the trees where the butterflies are spending their winter. After about 15 minutes, the crowds overpower the sense of awe, and we started back down the mountain.
But was it worth it?
Definitely.
Mainly bc now I can cross something else off my list of things to see and do in Mexico, but also bc I can identify with those butterflies. They flew here all the way from MI (or somewhere close) and all they want to do, when they get here, is to soak up the sun and hang out with other butterflies. The least I can do is climb up the mountain and appreciate their travels.
Unfortunately, these butterflies will never see the great lakes again. They'll mate in Mexico, and then the males will die here. The females will fly en masse back to the southeastern US in April, where they will lay their eggs before they die. The caterpillars will hatch, morph into new monarchs and then go north. (Some of those butterflies will mate again in the Great Lakes region.)
I'm very thankful that we get to share our Mexican experienes with many generations of our families, whether they can visit us here or not, and that we get to go home and tell others about it.
But monarchs may always symbolize this trip for me.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Back to the Daily Grind
After three fabulous (but mainly cold) 3 weeks of vacation, it was surprisingly easy to merge back into our routine and boring life here in Mexico.
Unpacking bags meant lots of new surprises - yay for Christmas presents and clearance sales! - but also meant the last few shards of excitement were packed up and stored for another vacation yet to come.
We had planned on a big Saturday event our first weekend back, to soften the blow, but that fell through and we instead spent too many hours watching TV. Then, we spent a few hours reading in the sunshine of our garden.
It took about 15 minutes for snow and ice to fade into distant memories.
And, after 3 weeks of considering how great it would be to NOT teach next year, it took only 48 hours of nothing to do before I realized just how much I really do love working.
And after only 1 day teaching, I realized just how little time that actually takes out of my day. :)
Then I remembered how little I get paid for that... and was thankful the sunshine is free.
Unpacking bags meant lots of new surprises - yay for Christmas presents and clearance sales! - but also meant the last few shards of excitement were packed up and stored for another vacation yet to come.
We had planned on a big Saturday event our first weekend back, to soften the blow, but that fell through and we instead spent too many hours watching TV. Then, we spent a few hours reading in the sunshine of our garden.
It took about 15 minutes for snow and ice to fade into distant memories.
And, after 3 weeks of considering how great it would be to NOT teach next year, it took only 48 hours of nothing to do before I realized just how much I really do love working.
And after only 1 day teaching, I realized just how little time that actually takes out of my day. :)
Then I remembered how little I get paid for that... and was thankful the sunshine is free.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
El Chavo del Ocho
I have a lot of Spanish class every week. 3 seperate classes with two different teachers for a total of 4 hours in class and about 2 hours of homework each week. Totally worth it, of course, as my Spanish is improving. I wanted to be able to carry on "small talk" conversations with random people, and understand the newspaper, and I can do both, so I think my Spanish is pretty good. When we move back, I'm going to start reading children's books in Spanish and watching CNN en Espanol to keep practicing.
Anyway, we often will watch TV clips or listen to songs or read newspapers or even bible study books in our spanish classes in order to make the classes more interesting and to learn more things.
In December, I was shown a few clips from a December holiday episode of a 1970s Mexican TV show called "El Chavo del Ocho" That title doesn't translate well, so I'll explain it: there is a homeless kid who lives in a barrel in the back plaza in the middle of a tenement apartment building and since he doesn't have an address, they just call his "home" number 8.
This show is supposed to be a comedy. I am not joking.
For some reason, an entire cast of people too poor to help a kid living in a barrel is funny. For some reason, a kid asking Santa for a ham sandwich is funny. For some reason, the neighbors invite him over only for Christmas dinner, and not to actually spend the night. For some reason, the entire idea of a young child (10?) living in a BARREL in an ALLEY is supposed to make me laugh, and not cry.
My spanish teacher told me that poverty is so common in Mexico, that they have to joke about it so they don't cry.
Wow.
During the holiday season, a movie was showing in the U.S. about how a rich American couple adopted a teenage boy who "fell through the cracks".
Apparently, in Mexico, there isn't a crack. There is a huge canyon, and everyone falls in it.
In the U.S., no one wants to admit there is real poverty, and real racism, and real addictions, and real despair. So all of our TV shows are about suburbanites who have everything, and we watch for a distraction. I suppose that our approach isn't fundamentally different, but I could not, as a Christian and a humanitarian, and a middle-class comfortable American, sit by and laugh at the poor kid with holes in his shoes and an empty belly.
Anyway, we often will watch TV clips or listen to songs or read newspapers or even bible study books in our spanish classes in order to make the classes more interesting and to learn more things.
In December, I was shown a few clips from a December holiday episode of a 1970s Mexican TV show called "El Chavo del Ocho" That title doesn't translate well, so I'll explain it: there is a homeless kid who lives in a barrel in the back plaza in the middle of a tenement apartment building and since he doesn't have an address, they just call his "home" number 8.
This show is supposed to be a comedy. I am not joking.
For some reason, an entire cast of people too poor to help a kid living in a barrel is funny. For some reason, a kid asking Santa for a ham sandwich is funny. For some reason, the neighbors invite him over only for Christmas dinner, and not to actually spend the night. For some reason, the entire idea of a young child (10?) living in a BARREL in an ALLEY is supposed to make me laugh, and not cry.
My spanish teacher told me that poverty is so common in Mexico, that they have to joke about it so they don't cry.
Wow.
During the holiday season, a movie was showing in the U.S. about how a rich American couple adopted a teenage boy who "fell through the cracks".
Apparently, in Mexico, there isn't a crack. There is a huge canyon, and everyone falls in it.
In the U.S., no one wants to admit there is real poverty, and real racism, and real addictions, and real despair. So all of our TV shows are about suburbanites who have everything, and we watch for a distraction. I suppose that our approach isn't fundamentally different, but I could not, as a Christian and a humanitarian, and a middle-class comfortable American, sit by and laugh at the poor kid with holes in his shoes and an empty belly.
Practice Makes Perfect
After 3 weeks of packing & unpacking, saying hello and then good-bye, we made our final trip home, we left with 8 suitcases - a combined total of 350 pounds of luggage. What were we toting? Esp. since we specifically asked for as few Christmas presents as possible? Well, Christmas presents, of course, but also books for my library and "green" cleaners and kitchen gadgets and electronics and toiletries and clothes and shoes and DVDs and English reading material and a few beloved food items - all things that we've been unable to find in Mexico.
As much as I've tried to adopt the "less is more" mentality of Mexicans, we somehow couldn't live another day without a mango corer, lime zester, olive oil 'misto', biodegradable dishwasher detergent, twilight books, bamboo socks, a wireless keyboard, garment bag, backpacking pack, shiatsu massager, desk calendars, pickles, pudding mix... you get the idea!!!
(Thanks for all the fabulous gifts, by the way! We're enjoying them!)
Sitting in the cold, dark car, surrounded by suitcases, on our way to the airport, I felt sad of course. But surprisingly bored. We had done this before - not too long ago, in fact - and we would do it again. I would hug everyone (nearly) that I loved very tightly and cry as I said good-bye and try not to think about it as we spent hours balancing every suitcase perfectly. I would be dressed for the wrong climate, carrying too many bags, looking like a tourist in every airport. Someone, knowing that I had already survived this once made it very doable again.
But the last time we traveled, together, from Ann Arbor to Metepec, loaded with bags, we were moving. This time, we were just going. Going back, going home, I couldn't be sure exactly. But there was so much less emotional turmoil. I knew what I could expect - and expected to know what to do. But I couldn't expect how I would feel.
Coming back to MI in November, and then again in December, I felt giddy as I felt cold wind hitting my face as I stepped off the plane. (Then, of course, I felt crazy for actually wanting to come here during the winter...) When I came to Mexico in June, I felt overwhelmed and sad and confused.
But today, as we stepped off the plane, the warm air felt nice. :) The movie on the bus - in spanish - was interesting. The traffic felt natural. And spreading out in our giant master suite felt relaxing.
It wasn't exactly like coming home. But it was like coming back.
As much as I've tried to adopt the "less is more" mentality of Mexicans, we somehow couldn't live another day without a mango corer, lime zester, olive oil 'misto', biodegradable dishwasher detergent, twilight books, bamboo socks, a wireless keyboard, garment bag, backpacking pack, shiatsu massager, desk calendars, pickles, pudding mix... you get the idea!!!
(Thanks for all the fabulous gifts, by the way! We're enjoying them!)
Sitting in the cold, dark car, surrounded by suitcases, on our way to the airport, I felt sad of course. But surprisingly bored. We had done this before - not too long ago, in fact - and we would do it again. I would hug everyone (nearly) that I loved very tightly and cry as I said good-bye and try not to think about it as we spent hours balancing every suitcase perfectly. I would be dressed for the wrong climate, carrying too many bags, looking like a tourist in every airport. Someone, knowing that I had already survived this once made it very doable again.
But the last time we traveled, together, from Ann Arbor to Metepec, loaded with bags, we were moving. This time, we were just going. Going back, going home, I couldn't be sure exactly. But there was so much less emotional turmoil. I knew what I could expect - and expected to know what to do. But I couldn't expect how I would feel.
Coming back to MI in November, and then again in December, I felt giddy as I felt cold wind hitting my face as I stepped off the plane. (Then, of course, I felt crazy for actually wanting to come here during the winter...) When I came to Mexico in June, I felt overwhelmed and sad and confused.
But today, as we stepped off the plane, the warm air felt nice. :) The movie on the bus - in spanish - was interesting. The traffic felt natural. And spreading out in our giant master suite felt relaxing.
It wasn't exactly like coming home. But it was like coming back.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Chilly, but Cozy
Driving around this week, cramming 6 months worth of errands into 3 days, it's easy to forget that the car is borrowed and so is the house. Easy to ignore the suitcases hiding in the corner or the pesos in my purse. When the mail comes, it's easy to pretend that I could attend that event or use those coupons. Until I see the mail addressed to someone else, reminding me that I don't really live here anymore. Then I see my item is backordered until Jan 15 and that's about 10 days too late to matter. I remember that all the library books have to be returned, whether I've finished them or not.
But the worst part of the whole thing is that I have to do errands at all. Even after days of family togetherness, it seems a waste to spend time doing anything other than what I really want to do. When I may not see dear family and friends for weeks or months, do I really want to spend time renewing my driver's license and getting an eye exam and returning ungiven gifts and stocking up on English reading material?
Yes, I suppose I do. At least, part of me does. Part of me wants to spend every moment with people I've missed. But the other part remembers how I spent so many weeks in Mexico wishing for things like eating International food and feeling snow crunch under my feet and walking through a room full of books I could read and watching TV I could understand and driving without going crazy and central heat and familiar church service and NPR and yet...
Yet while I'm here, I feel that maybe, just maybe, there is never enough time to do everything, to see everyone, to experience it all enough. And maybe that has to be ok.
But the worst part of the whole thing is that I have to do errands at all. Even after days of family togetherness, it seems a waste to spend time doing anything other than what I really want to do. When I may not see dear family and friends for weeks or months, do I really want to spend time renewing my driver's license and getting an eye exam and returning ungiven gifts and stocking up on English reading material?
Yes, I suppose I do. At least, part of me does. Part of me wants to spend every moment with people I've missed. But the other part remembers how I spent so many weeks in Mexico wishing for things like eating International food and feeling snow crunch under my feet and walking through a room full of books I could read and watching TV I could understand and driving without going crazy and central heat and familiar church service and NPR and yet...
Yet while I'm here, I feel that maybe, just maybe, there is never enough time to do everything, to see everyone, to experience it all enough. And maybe that has to be ok.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)