Things I love about Mexico: #2 Work Ethic

This morning a man named Armando came by to fix the ceiling in my apartment (I had had a minor leak last week).  Armando is the same man who for the past several weeks has been hanging off the roof of my 5-storey building, slowly but surely repainting the exterior walls.  Armando, I learned today, is 73 years old. (!!!)  Talk about work ethic… wow, wow, wow.

Now, it’s unlikely that this septuagenarian is choosing to do this work just to keep himself busy in his retirement (although one look at him proves that his health is undoubtedly benefiting from his continued work).  Indeed it’s much more likely that he is forced to continue doing hard manual labour into his 8th decade because if he didn’t, his family would have trouble putting food on the table.

Is this a good thing?  Probably not.  In a country like Canada with a strong and universal social security program, Armando would have probably retired long ago.  His amazing work ethic is therefore perhaps more a consequence of necessity rather than a relative lack of laziness in comparison to those of a similar age in richer countries.

That said, Armando is just one example of what I’ve observed to be a generally remarkable work ethic here in Mexico.  When people are out of work here (knowing that they can’t rely on the government to jump in and help them) they use their creativity, entrepreneurialism, and resourcefulness to come up with a way (any way) to make ends meet.  For this reason, although poverty levels here are incalculably greater, from my observations Mexico City has many few beggers per capita than Toronto or, in recent years, even Kingston, Ontario.

Is this a reflection of an inherent Mexican work ethic, or that of the differences in survival techniques between two societies of distinctly different economic means?  I’ll leave that up to you to decide… personally I’m still working on the answer myself.

Things I love about Mexico: #1 Cellphone reception on the subway!

New series:  THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MEXICO (my current adopted home).

#1 – Cellphone reception on the subway!

Fact:  the world’s richest man, Carlos Slim, is Mexican.  A true telecom tycoon, Slim counts among his many holdings Telcel, Mexico’s leading cellphone service provider with more than an 80% market share.  Is the fact that Telcel monopolizes the market a good thing for Mexico (or my pocketbook)?  Probably not (and definitely not for my pocketbook), HOWEVER, Slim’s monopoly comes with one sweet sweet benefit:  pretty much the entire Mexico City subway system features full cellphone reception (unless of course you’re foolish enough to be a customer of one of Telcel’s competitors)!  Eat your heart out Toronto!

DF, hasta pronto

Ok, so it’s been almost a full year since my last post… I guess what started as a blog turned into more of an annual Christmas newsletter.  Nevertheless, late is better than never.

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I doubt I ever would have gone there if it hadn’t been for my good friend Sophie.  A few years back we were chatting about a recent business trip she’d taken to Mexico.  The highlight, she told me, had been a few days exploring the capital, Mexico City… she was so taken by the city in fact, that she declared a desire to actually live there at some point down the road.  “Mexico City?!”  I queried, “Isn’t it one of the poorest, most overpopulated, dangerous, and polluted cities in the Western Hemisphere, if not the world?”  Sophie countered, however, that the city was a lot more complex than the caricature that I (and I suspect many others) had in my mind.  The positives, she assured me, far outweighed the negatives.  I smiled and nodded, but I was chock-full of doubt.

Fast forward a year or so and I’m on a bus heading to – you’ll never guess – Mexico City!  I had decided to spend the Christmas holidays learning Spanish in Guatemala (for details see my first entry on this blog) and the 20-million-strong metropolis just happened to be en route.  I was still full of doubts, not to mention a little bit of fear, but Sophie’s enthusiastic endorsement kept ringing in my ears, and so I bit the bullet and arranged to couchsurf for a few days in the centre of the city.  Long story short (for details see my second-ever blog entry), I was more than a little surprised to discover that the city’s image as the poster child for the awful consequences of the 20th century phenomenon of uber-urbanization is very much undeserved.  In fact, just like Sophie, I loved it!

Yes, Mexico City – like all huge cities – has its problems (pollution, property theft, and poverty among them), however, it also features some of the best urban parks I’ve ever seen, more museums than any other city in the world, and a fantastic cosmopolitan/progressive atmosphere that I don’t think I’ve experienced anywhere else I’ve traveled.  It was definitely a place that I hoped to return to in the future.

I got my chance this past Autumn.  After finishing a teaching training program in nearby Guadalajara, it was an easy decision to return to the Distrito Federal (or simply DF as Mexico City is most often called) to visit the friends I had made one year earlier.  The only difference this time is that I also decided to look for a job…

Which brings me to my rather long-winded point.  One week from today (January 7th, 2010) I will be moving to Mexico City!  I’ve accepted a contract to teach English writing skills to grade 11 students at Tomás Alva Edison high school.  I’ll also likely be teaching English to business executives on the side to help pay the bills.

I’m very excited to start living in what I truly consider to be one of the world’s great cities.  Sophie, as it turned out, ended up moving to another of the world’s great cities… I hope she gets a chance to visit me from her new home in London, England.  Still, I’m very thankful for her once-suspicious endorsement of Mexico City years ago – without her I doubt I ever would have gone.

Wishing everyone a brilliant 2010!

Shawn

Fuente de la Diana Cazadora, Paseo de la Reforma, Mexico City

In the Zocalo, Mexico City, with my friends Sergio and Roberto

Snow tubing in front of the Cathedral, Mexico City

The enormous archaeological site of Teotihuacan, just outside of Mexico City

Delivering a Happy New Year

This past holiday season I put out a call for donations to help families in need in San Pedro La Laguna (where I was studying Spanish over Christmas)… thanks to everyone`s amazing generosity we collectively raised over $650 (!) and on January 2nd I had the privilege of delivering a Happy New Year to two beautiful Tz`utujil families.

The Maya consider themselves to be the “people of the corn”.

Local corn

In the form of handmade tortillas, corn is served here in virtually every home, at every meal, 365 days a year. When a family can afford nothing else, they will spend their precious pennies on corn, and, if necessary, live off tortillas and salt alone.  It is not an exaggeration, then, to say that here in the Guatemalan highlands corn is essentially the lifeblood of the local people – nearly as important as water itself.

Therefore it is no surprise that my superhero Spanish teacher, Mynor, suggested that the most effective way for me to deliver a Happy New Year was to buy 200 pounds of corn, 100 pounds each for two families who are facing particularly perilous times.

First I`d like to introduce you to Petronila´s family.

Petronila, her two daughters - Rosario and Maria - and a 100-pound bag of corn!

Petronila is an incredible woman.  Her alcoholic husband drowned a few years ago in the lake, leaving her a single mother of four (her two adorable young sons, Pedro and Miguel, were at their grandparents` house at the time of the above photo).  In one of my meetings with Petronila she tearfully explained (translated from Tz`utujil by Mynor) that while life is better in many ways without her husband in the picture, as the family`s sole breadwinner she now faces a daily struggle to provide for herself and her four young children.  Petronila`s financial situation is grim.  She does not speak Spanish and doesn`t have a profession.  Her only source of income is irregular work as a washer-woman.

Needless to say it was an honour to make her life just a tiny bit easier by providing her with a month and a half or so of corn.  She sends deep prayers to all those who helped to purchase the corn.

Next, I visited Manuela`s family.

Manuela with daughters Rosalia and young Maria (son Jose wasn`t at home) and a giant bag of corn.

Manuela is also a single mother.  Her husband worked as an outhouse-hole digger until one day he fell some 60 feet down one of his holes to his death.  Manuela provides for her three children by working as a seamstress, but without a full income it is a continual struggle to feed her family.  She is very thankful for the corn because she says for the next ninety days she can wake up each morning without worrying about whether or not there will be food to eat.

Believe it or not, all this corn-related joy cost only 61 Canadian dollars, leaving several hundred more for further aid.  I am currently looking into how this money can best be spent.  If you are interested in donating to families like the ones above, please give me a shout – every dollar helps.

That`s a lot of corn! The little girl seems to think so too.

Full disclosure: I carried the corn about 5 feet and then my superhero Spanish teacher Mynor carried it the rest of the way up the hill! It kind of looks like a pillow when he carries it... when I try to carry it, not so much.

Tengo un sastre!

It`s true!  For the first time in my life I have… a tailor.  Now I`m sure at some point or another during my more than twenty-three years I`ve used the services of a tailor… but never have I, as I did earlier today, said to someone (and in Spanish at that!):  “you are my tailor.”

To some this may not seem like a particularly noteworthy event.  But for a man with limited Spanish, a tendency towards evening chills,  and a hole in the right-hand pocket of his only pair of jeans, today was a big day.

Wearing through a pair of jeans (one of the knees is also beginning to fray) is, I do believe, a pretty difficult thing for anyone over fourteen to do  in this day and age.  Wearing the same pair of pants almost every day for months upon months of travelling certainly helps the effects of entropy, but still, it feels like somewhat of an accomplishment nonetheless.  It also doesn`t hurt that my first experience with “my” tailor was marked by what I think textile savants would regard as a rather auspicious event.

When dropping off my pants this morning I was told that they would be ready tomorrow afternoon.  This was not ideal for me – it gets quite chilly here in the evenings and, as mentioned, I haven`t another pair of pants – however, since my sewing skills are long forgotten, I just smiled and agreed to return manaña.

Much later I was walking home along a street not far from the sastrerìa (tailor`s shop) when I bumped into a charmingly short man who seemed to recognize me…

“jlkdjofiduglkjdlou” (unintelligible Spanish due to gringo`s linguistic shortcomings)

“I`m sorry…?”

“wehtlkjgois… pantalones…lkfjgiauyoitud”

“Ahhhh… Isaac?”  (Isaac is my tailor`s delightfully biblical name)

“Si, si… glkjfaoiugjlsh…”

It turned out that it was very lucky that I had run into Isaac on the street… as I eventually understood, Isaac needed to go somewhere the next day (I think) and so his shop would be unexpectedly closed all day (I think), leaving me pant-less for at least another 36 hours(!).  Thanks to our lucky run-in, however, Isaac was able to save me from chilly-thigh syndrome by taking me directly to his shop and delivering to me my newly repaired jeans.  It was right then and there that it happened.

Isaac explained to me that if I ever needed any tailoring again in the future that he is my man.  Without skipping a beat, and in rather excellent Spanish, I unhesitatingly replied:  “Si, si… tù estas mi sastre.”

“You are my tailor.”

Homestaying for Christmas

Question of the day:  What holiday season would be complete without a couple of gringos in residence?

I´d like to introduce you to my wonderful hosts, Rosa & Domingo.  They have been so kind as to invite me into their home for the holidays this year, saving me from the depressing alternative of a sterile hotel room. 

Nochebuena in Rosa´s kitchen. From left to right: Eduardo (their American friend), me, Domingo, Rosa, Sebastian (their second of three sons), and one of their two daughters.

Oh, and did I mention that Rosa cooks me three amazing homemade meals a day?  Regular treats include fresh tortillas, rich black beans, colourful fruits, savory meats, delicious coffee, and a guacamole that´s to die for.  AND, the corn, beans, and coffee all come from their own land in the mountains! The avocados come from a gigantic tree right outside my room.

SO tempting not to just reach out and pick one!

There are so many avocados clinging to the branches (sphere-shaped instead of the pear-shaped ones they sell in Canada) that I sometimes bump into them on my way up to the rooftop terrace!

The view from the rooftop terrace, directly above my room.

My room is the door on the left, fellow gringo David lives next door.

One final shot... my homestay family´s driveway and front lawn. My room is out of the frame - on the left.

Hoop Dreams

Welcome to San Pedro La Laguna.

Population:  12,000

Percentage indigenous Tz`utujil Maya:  96.4

Basketballs per capita:  2.3†

Yes it´s Christmastime in the Guatemalan highlands and basketball is a sensation!  Perhaps it`s the influence of the volcanoes (shaped, after all, like upside down nets) or  perhaps it`s the product of the NBA`s recent go-global strategy, but one way or another basketball has taken root in this lovely little highland hamlet and there is every indication that it is here to stay.

Using my poorly honed investigative journalism skills and very limited Spanish (not to mention my complete ignorance of the local Mayan dialect that happens to be the first language of most inhabitants) I`ve learned that basketball fever is a seasonal phenomenon that begins in October and ends with championship games just before Christmas.  (Soccer fans can breathe a sigh of relief – during the rest of the year traditional futbol dominates).

Basketball is such an important part of the festive season here that the central square itself is turned into a full-sized court!  As I write, the women`s championships are taking place there, complete with a professional-quality sports announcer, gigantic gold, silver and bronze trophies, and a healthy crowd of several hundred locals and a smattering of gringos.

And… the most exciting part is, I just happen to be living with San Pedro`s reigning hoop stars!  Yes, the family I`m staying with (more on that experience later) includes three brothers who have been members of the championship team four-years-running, plus two sisters who are on the court right now with their sights set on gold.  I do believe that if I were to shoot some hoops with my wonderful hosts (who although relatively tall by local standards come in at least a few inches below me),  I would no doubt find myself eating dust!

And there you have.  Me and the Bosh`s on the beautiful shores of Lago Atitlan… Feliz Navidad!

† Unofficial estimate

Joy to the world!

As Christmas quickly approaches I find myself pretty homesick down here in the tropics – although I don`t envy the wicked weather most of you have been having!  This evening I sought solace in my music and happened upon this classic from 1993`s Sister Act 2.  Enjoy.

Magical Oaxaca

A young Oaxacan girl in traditional dress takes in the sea of candles lit in honour of the Virgin of Guadalupe

Oaxaca, to be extremely brief, was simply a magical city.  I was lucky enough to experience the Fiesta de Guadalupe while I was there and captured this image.  I lit a candle in this same spot for Grandpa K.L.

Welcome to Mexico City: leave your preconceptions at the door

It´s a typical Saturday in early December.  After brunch at the Sheraton with mom, brother and sister and their partners (and sister´s newborn) hop into the Volkswagon and head out of the city.  As the car zips past the gigantic box stores that flank the six-lane super-highway, Diana Krall Christmas songs blare from the stereo speakers (to the delight of some and the chagrin of others).   Traffic is heavy, conversation is light, and a generally festive spirit fills the air.

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Sound familiar?  Yes, it´s a typical December Saturday.  Welcome to Mexico City.

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Ok, so I left out the fact that it was around twenty degrees outside, that the highway was lined with cacti instead of snowdrifts, and that the conversation was in Spanglish… but really, all told this story could have taken place just as easily in Toronto or, for that matter, in any major North American city.   I´m not sure what I expected my first day in Mexico City to be like, but I can say with some certainty that I didn´t expect this.  Mexico City lesson the first:  leave any and all preconceptions at the door.

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Since you might be wondering how a Canadian gringo found himself in this situation in the first place, I will digress here for a moment to explain…  It´s all thanks to the wonder that is Couchsurfing – essentially a global network of thousands of friends that you haven´t met yet.  It was through the generosity of two of these new friends that my first day in the land of tequila was indeed as part of a wonderful Mexican family – Diana Krall and all.  For more on the Couchsurfing Project visit (www.couchsurfing.com/shawnsasha).

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Mexico City is a metropolis (twenty million people and counting) that I find very difficult to describe.  It is characterized equally by modernity and history, wealth and poverty, passion and indifference. 

In many ways it feels like Europe, yet at the same time it is distinctly different.  In many ways it feels like Toronto, yet again it is very different.  All within the same city (and indeed sometimes within the same block) one can find broad tree-lined avenues, poverty stricken neighbourhoods, world-class cultural institutions housed in 19th century architectural masterpieces, crowded old-world markets, and spacious modern shopping malls.  And, as seems to be the case everywhere in the world, flowing between it all is mucho trafico – mucho mucho trafico (although one of my new Mexican friends who has driven in Canada says Toronto is even worse!).

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One of my hosts, a worldly journalist named Roberto, suggested to me that what makes Mexico so unique is that it is defined by the collision of pre-Hispanic and Western cultures.  To me this makes a lot of sense.  Unlike in Canada and the United States where Native American cultural influences are negligible at best, Mexican culture is a true fusion of these two very different worlds.  Moreover, this collision of cultures is an ongoing phenomenon, not a historic fact.  Indeed the Mexican people themselves are a demonstration of this fusion, ethnically part European, part indigenous American.

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Although the sources of Mexican culture are complicated, the result is a masterpiece.  Truth be told, my preconceptions of what Mexico City would be like were not entirely flattering.  I leave, however, with great respect and fondness for this hemisphere´s largest city.  It is a place I very much look forward to returning to one day soon, not only because it is physically beautiful and culturally vibrant, but because I have made some wonderful new friends.  Hasta luego – until we meet again.