Monday, March 31, 2008
Wireless Internet is a Necessity not a Luxury
I finally have it all set up (after an hour and a half)! I'm off to buy a phone later so will hopefully be very connected soon.
besos
besos
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Pictures from walking around today
I think the family across the way makes these giant globes (I don't know what they call them) that are used in fiestas and parades. They're actually really heavy and men carry them and sort of compete to dance the longest with them. This one looks like it says PIMP, but it actually says PIMPI hearts JUANA.
L and I walked down to the Zocalo tonight and there were all these kids in front of the Cathedral having a ball heaving these huge cylindrical balloons in the air and then running after them as they floated down. We saw one balloon start to get stuck in one of the alcoves of the Cathedral facade, which the children thought was hilarious!
And women selling candied apples... I'm still not really eating food on the street, but these looked tasty.
This is a detail of one of the walls of Santo Domingo, which I find endlessly visually fascinating.
L and I walked down to the Zocalo tonight and there were all these kids in front of the Cathedral having a ball heaving these huge cylindrical balloons in the air and then running after them as they floated down. We saw one balloon start to get stuck in one of the alcoves of the Cathedral facade, which the children thought was hilarious!
And women selling candied apples... I'm still not really eating food on the street, but these looked tasty.
This is a detail of one of the walls of Santo Domingo, which I find endlessly visually fascinating.
pictures of my apt
This is actually the view from my bathroom window, but you can see the courtyard that we all share.
Here's my kitchen with the crazy arches (Lucy says that I need to find a boyfriend who will carry me through the middle one, as if we were married) as taken from my living room area and the door that opens into the street.
Here's my study (or second smaller bedroom) with the window open to the street.
Sat. happenings
Weekends have always been the weirdest times for me here. The time seems to stretch out with no real plans, but the expectation that I should be doing stuff. I’m trying to ease into being here for a long time, which means that I could without guilt get up slowly, make myself some tea and sit in the chair in my study reading with the window open. L invited me to go with her for b’fast to a new coffee shop that’s owned by a newly married couple (she’s Mexican and he’s American) that is nice and funky and has really good food, like blackberry waffles. Super friendly people who have made a very comfortable easy space, and easy going so that when I (in some moment of a brain blip) started to walk out without paying, they laughed and teased me about being a queen. L and I then went to the Pachote Market (where there are organic vendors Fri and Sat) and it was so wonderful to buy fresh vegetables (including arugula!), and I bought some in-expensive pottery bowls and mugs so that I don’t have to only use the plastic ones left in my apt (I know I know, I love nesting and having a place with nice things). And then we wandered to the more traditional market close by to get fruit, I love guayabas and yellow mangos. Part of the market also has meat stands and I don’t care how authentic it may be, I’m buying any meat I cook from a supermarket… even if it’s the same stuff just repackaged, the ultimate lie to me! L told me that I just need to soak things without peels in a mixture of water and this water purifier and things with peels just need to be washed with soap and water and then dried. I love being able to eat fresh veggies and fruits (I eat much more of the later here than in the states) so I hope that I do it in such a way not to get as sick as I was last winter in Chiapas.
And then the day stretched before me and I really fought the impulse to fill my day, to make sure that I had plans. Instead, I heard L and our other neighbor J talking in the courtyard and when I poked my head out my bathroom window they invited me to join them and a friend, Lucy. It was really nice, Lucy, had come over in part for help on her English homework so we were trying to teach her some phrases and pronunciation. She was having such trouble with even simple words like “of” and “want” which was really interesting because it illuminates a) the ways that language imprints itself on our bodies so as to make new sounds incredible difficult to both the ear and tongue (obvious yes, but interesting to see it in practice) and that my assumptions about the presence of English (and it really is everywhere and many people know some) does not make it any less foreign here and b) my difficulties with Spanish are not in the same ballpark. It was really helpful to listen to L, J and Lucy talk because they are both fluent and it is just so helpful to be in the sort of language saturated spaces… and I could follow the conversation and chat some. What was most helpful to me was translating our side conversations in English into Spanish for Lucy. One of the ways she was trying to learn English was through music, and specifically “Imagine,” so there were the four of us trying to remember John Lennon’s tune and lyrics, belting it out in giggles. Lucy in particular found it hilarious that I had a crush on Lennon when I was 8 and didn’t know that he was dead already. It was just a very pleasant way to spend most of the afternoon and we all ended up having a light dinner together. I’m really glad that I’m living in a place that has open people who are interested in forming some sort of community. Tomorrow we are all going to celebrate J’s birthday with a mix of American and Oaxaqueno friends.
But, tonight L and I went to the cinepolis to see 10,000 B.C., which I sort of have to recommend for the absolute cheese factor! It was incredible, we started out somewhere in the alps or Himalayas with hunters and gatherers (with Mastadons!), made our way through a jungle immediately below them with giant dinosaur birds, followed by a sort of savanna landscape with random African tribes (and saber tooth tigers!), ending up in Egypt!!!! It was awesome, a total Moses beta version! It’s actually really nice to know that I can catch American movies (hopefully not dubbed) while I’m here (they now have Juno, Horton Hears a Who, and Jumper).
I talking with L about teaching students ethnography and when you begin to embody a cultural place. Our examples were how long it takes us to remember to walk on the shady side of the street (not long in this heat), and remembering to put toilet paper in the trash and not the toilet (and then vice versa in the States). But I had a total moment when we were fruit shopping, I was asking a woman what these little fruits that looked like Rainer cherries were and then didn’t understand her answer, so she handed me one to try and I bit into it without thinking and then offered it to L. She bit a little from the middle and when we walked away she was like “um, don’t do that again.” How could I have forgotten that I can’t just bite into fruits and veggies, especially not in the market?!?!
And then the day stretched before me and I really fought the impulse to fill my day, to make sure that I had plans. Instead, I heard L and our other neighbor J talking in the courtyard and when I poked my head out my bathroom window they invited me to join them and a friend, Lucy. It was really nice, Lucy, had come over in part for help on her English homework so we were trying to teach her some phrases and pronunciation. She was having such trouble with even simple words like “of” and “want” which was really interesting because it illuminates a) the ways that language imprints itself on our bodies so as to make new sounds incredible difficult to both the ear and tongue (obvious yes, but interesting to see it in practice) and that my assumptions about the presence of English (and it really is everywhere and many people know some) does not make it any less foreign here and b) my difficulties with Spanish are not in the same ballpark. It was really helpful to listen to L, J and Lucy talk because they are both fluent and it is just so helpful to be in the sort of language saturated spaces… and I could follow the conversation and chat some. What was most helpful to me was translating our side conversations in English into Spanish for Lucy. One of the ways she was trying to learn English was through music, and specifically “Imagine,” so there were the four of us trying to remember John Lennon’s tune and lyrics, belting it out in giggles. Lucy in particular found it hilarious that I had a crush on Lennon when I was 8 and didn’t know that he was dead already. It was just a very pleasant way to spend most of the afternoon and we all ended up having a light dinner together. I’m really glad that I’m living in a place that has open people who are interested in forming some sort of community. Tomorrow we are all going to celebrate J’s birthday with a mix of American and Oaxaqueno friends.
But, tonight L and I went to the cinepolis to see 10,000 B.C., which I sort of have to recommend for the absolute cheese factor! It was incredible, we started out somewhere in the alps or Himalayas with hunters and gatherers (with Mastadons!), made our way through a jungle immediately below them with giant dinosaur birds, followed by a sort of savanna landscape with random African tribes (and saber tooth tigers!), ending up in Egypt!!!! It was awesome, a total Moses beta version! It’s actually really nice to know that I can catch American movies (hopefully not dubbed) while I’m here (they now have Juno, Horton Hears a Who, and Jumper).
I talking with L about teaching students ethnography and when you begin to embody a cultural place. Our examples were how long it takes us to remember to walk on the shady side of the street (not long in this heat), and remembering to put toilet paper in the trash and not the toilet (and then vice versa in the States). But I had a total moment when we were fruit shopping, I was asking a woman what these little fruits that looked like Rainer cherries were and then didn’t understand her answer, so she handed me one to try and I bit into it without thinking and then offered it to L. She bit a little from the middle and when we walked away she was like “um, don’t do that again.” How could I have forgotten that I can’t just bite into fruits and veggies, especially not in the market?!?!
Random Bits
Today’s cultural disjunction came after I left the cell phone place and walked through the Alameda to the Zocalo. There was a small indigenous woman (and when I say small, drop your mental image about a foot) selling homemade treats wearing a green shirt reading “Team Servilla”! This will make no sense to people who don’t watch Rome, but really, what an odd cultural reference to show up on a T-shirt (an American show reimagining the political, social and sexual machinations of beginning of the Roman Empire)—she supports Cesar’s cast-off mistress and the mother of Brutus!
A man begging in front of a church spit at me today… I guess I should be glad that he didn’t kick out at me like he did to the man before me.
These boys running a gelato shop by the Zocalo told me that my accent sounds like a German person trying to speak Spanish! Not quite what I was going for.
There’s a fast food Chinese restaurant downtown called Ni-Hau! I wonder what their food is like—is this Mexico’s version of Asian fusion?
There was a book fair a block long along the beginning of the Alcala, as I walked by a book entitled “Children, No Thanks! When women don’t want to be mothers” so I had to buy it as a fieldwork artifact… maybe it will be the key to unlocking a brilliant research angle.
A man begging in front of a church spit at me today… I guess I should be glad that he didn’t kick out at me like he did to the man before me.
These boys running a gelato shop by the Zocalo told me that my accent sounds like a German person trying to speak Spanish! Not quite what I was going for.
There’s a fast food Chinese restaurant downtown called Ni-Hau! I wonder what their food is like—is this Mexico’s version of Asian fusion?
There was a book fair a block long along the beginning of the Alcala, as I walked by a book entitled “Children, No Thanks! When women don’t want to be mothers” so I had to buy it as a fieldwork artifact… maybe it will be the key to unlocking a brilliant research angle.
Second Day- more about the political scene
It’s really weird walking around the city because it feels at once so familiar and not. Most of the political graffiti I was documenting last time is gone, but there are still obvious signs of walls painted over multiple times. On some there are 5-foot high uniform swaths of white paint, while the rest of the wall is blue or yellow. There are random “APPO vive” or “nadie se olvidie el 2 de Oct” slogans sprayed on walls usually accompanied by a hammer and sickle or anarchist sign. The city feels much less grimy than when I was here last and it is obvious that basic civil order has been restored. It is interesting how much walking around today I was struck by the difference in who is/ was on the street in the middle of the day (and this may also reflect the time of year). One of the things that so characterized the APPO takeover of the city was the fact that rural peoples were inhabiting the city in new ways, that they were asserting a kind of control over the city (and that urban professionals were joining them, not the other way around)—that was one of the things I was so struck by in the take-overs of the banks and bus terminals. Today, when I walked down the Alcala, it was mostly urban 20-somethings hanging out… neither the politicized space nor tourist infested one that I’ve been used to. The Zocalo, which in the two times I’ve lived here has either been off-limits under construction (re-opening with grand pomp and circumstance to the dismay of locals) or occupied. When I walked down there, it was as I’ve heard it… people sitting on every available ledge or bench in the shade, sidewalk cafes and balloon venders (I heard that the other venders have been kicked out in the municipal “clean-ups” post PFP crackdown).
There is a much greater presence of armed police—on just an hour errand I ran into two in front of Santo Domingo, several riding in the back of an open jeep, and two riding a motorcycle—all with full bulletproof vests, automatic rifles and helmets. I can’t tell if they are local or federal police and if they are present as a deterrent or because they are actually worried about protestors. They are also in the most random places like outside a textiles shop.
I’m still feeling vulnerable and like my body is adjusting to the traveling and new space—it’s very very dry and hot—and my back is telling me that my pushing myself yesterday carrying heavy bags did not go unnoticed. I’m trying to be very kind to myself and take things easy—do some home yoga this afternoon, take naps, eat plain yogurt and granola and my favorite lime potato chips :) —rather than pushing on immediately. I’m giving myself a week before I start to “really” do fieldwork and push those cold encounters… and a couple days to get my feet under me before I start planning my research strategies.
The good news is that I already feel more intellectually stimulated about my project and I am figuring out where to go to learn what I want to know. The not so good news is that I feel like I jumped into a deep cold pool and am barely keeping my head above water language wise. I went to set up my internet this morning (an office just by my old posada in colonia reforma) and not only did I not even think to bring my passport (duh!), but I could barely keep up in conversation. Think about the rapid technical sales patter of any utility company, and then put it in a language that you are still working on. I realize how “fluent” I am in situations I have become accustomed to and how non-fluent I am once the context changes. Linguistic ability is my biggest insecurity here and I am trying to keep it all in perspective and not be too hard on myself—but it’s so frustrating to feel unable to manage basic interactions!
I walked back from the internet office along a route I walked everyday a year and a half ago and it was jolting to run into street scenes that I’ve photographed and know visually but would not have been able to arrange geographically, some places were on north-south axes rather than on my assumed east-west. I think that this sort of happening on spaces that feel simultaneously familiar and foreign reflects the physical and mental way that I have inhabited this city—wandering, feeling directionless and unmoored and happening on things only in unplanned routes—perhaps this is what fieldwork is. I think that I will be happy here, and already I have at least two “friends” and people in this house are really welcoming, but this is also a place with such traces of loneliness for me. This morning I tried to get used to the process of getting myself out the door and to a nearby café to eat breakfast (really good chai) alone when all I sort of wanted to do was pull the covers over my head. I realize just how depressed I was when I was here last.
One new thing is that some intersections actually have “walk/ don’t walk” signs in some busy places (like the intersection of Reforma and Ninos Heroes that either got me over or reactivated all my PTSD from my accident). But, of course because this is Mexico and pedestrians must scurry out of the way of cars that have all the rights of way, the walk sign is actually a little running person (with a countdown which is handy). All I could think when crossing Ninos Heroes (which is a large “road” that connects to the Pan-American Highways so is always full and has both commuters and trucks), was “run, run, it’s telling me to run!” And in truth, the amount of time to cross was just long enough for me to quickly walk.
I bought a cell phone for the first time that I’ve come down here…. again, I think that I got half of what he was telling me, all this technical stuff in rapid fire Spanish just goes through my brain (and cell phones are expensive, the cheapest one was about $50 including the first chunk of minutes). After 2 months I have to do something my phone will shut off and have to be reactivated, I’ll ask L. And then I brought it home and oy, it doesn’t work, it keeps telling me in Spanish to push menu to block or unblock and I do and then it tells me the same thing—I’m letting it sit and think on its sins hoping that when I return to it, it will be in a better frame of mind to cooperate. Of course once I asked L she pointed out that it was saying press menu “y * para bloquer o debloquer…” i.e. press menu AND * not press menu and then a bulleted list to unlock the keypad. She also couldn’t understand the process of registering my phone so passed it off to a friend of hers who very nicely did it for me, but I am very frustrated that these basic things are just so hard and complicated. I need to get back in the frame of mind of a cash economy, places that I expect will take credit cards—like buying a cell phone—don’t… so I always need to have a sense of how much cash I have, and, if I leave the city, I need to make sure that I have small bills and change—I forgot how precious $20 peso bills and $10 pesos coins are.
It seems that there’s a sort of flexible economy of knowledge among researchers, anthropologists, what have you. I am so appreciative that L is here and that she is so generous with her knowledge, and she tells me that she too had to be walked through these processes. I am really really trying to let go of the need to know how to do everything…I’m trying to lead with love towards myself as part of my ethnographic orientation. The Protestant over-achieving guilt fights with these impulses.
She and I this evening walked down to the supermercado that used to be Gigante (which is really one of the most fun words to say) for a stock up. Sariano as it is now called is sort of like a Mexican Target or Wallmart, you can buy generic clothes, electronic equipment, food, toiletries, for closer to American-like prices. It’s absolutely over stimulating to the senses. The big items I wanted to buy were a blender (licuadora)—crucial to any Mexican kitchen to make juices or salsas—and a fan (ventilador) as the one that came in my apt is a really cute retro-looking one that seems like it came from the 50s and when I turn it on makes the most appalling racket. So I bought both (my fan promises that it comes with a remote control!) and a truly random assortment of groceries some of which are necessities (olive oil, butter, eggs, cereal) and others that somehow seemed like I should get them (totopes, bottled mole that you can get in the states, guacamole, tuna). I get home and am so excited about my new products until I learn that a) the cord for the blender doesn’t stretch anywhere near the distance between an electrical outlet and a hard flat surface and b) the fan truly exemplifies that US companies send shoddy shoddy goods to 3rd world countries… not only was there no remote, but there was no threading in the holes in the base that would allow me to screw the fan stand to its base. I decided that I must have done something wrong and translated and retranslated the instructions (not ones with nice descriptive pictures) but no, it was faulty. So my fan is now literally held together with a shoe-lace (thank you Jason Price) that I used to tie the stand to the base and it works only when propped against the window and prohibited from turning.
I haven’t really wanted to eat much if at all due to the heat and travel so L introduced me to a café close by that makes really good salads and has an amazing rooftop teraza (one amusing thing is that in the midst of this gorgeous view of lights from a community on one of the hillsides, the yellow arches stand out brilliantly). I actually haven’t really eaten much comida Oaxaquena since I’ve been here, but I don’t doubt that I will get my fill and it’s really nice to have places with basic food around (I am so happy with the location of my apt in that regard).
There is a much greater presence of armed police—on just an hour errand I ran into two in front of Santo Domingo, several riding in the back of an open jeep, and two riding a motorcycle—all with full bulletproof vests, automatic rifles and helmets. I can’t tell if they are local or federal police and if they are present as a deterrent or because they are actually worried about protestors. They are also in the most random places like outside a textiles shop.
I’m still feeling vulnerable and like my body is adjusting to the traveling and new space—it’s very very dry and hot—and my back is telling me that my pushing myself yesterday carrying heavy bags did not go unnoticed. I’m trying to be very kind to myself and take things easy—do some home yoga this afternoon, take naps, eat plain yogurt and granola and my favorite lime potato chips :) —rather than pushing on immediately. I’m giving myself a week before I start to “really” do fieldwork and push those cold encounters… and a couple days to get my feet under me before I start planning my research strategies.
The good news is that I already feel more intellectually stimulated about my project and I am figuring out where to go to learn what I want to know. The not so good news is that I feel like I jumped into a deep cold pool and am barely keeping my head above water language wise. I went to set up my internet this morning (an office just by my old posada in colonia reforma) and not only did I not even think to bring my passport (duh!), but I could barely keep up in conversation. Think about the rapid technical sales patter of any utility company, and then put it in a language that you are still working on. I realize how “fluent” I am in situations I have become accustomed to and how non-fluent I am once the context changes. Linguistic ability is my biggest insecurity here and I am trying to keep it all in perspective and not be too hard on myself—but it’s so frustrating to feel unable to manage basic interactions!
I walked back from the internet office along a route I walked everyday a year and a half ago and it was jolting to run into street scenes that I’ve photographed and know visually but would not have been able to arrange geographically, some places were on north-south axes rather than on my assumed east-west. I think that this sort of happening on spaces that feel simultaneously familiar and foreign reflects the physical and mental way that I have inhabited this city—wandering, feeling directionless and unmoored and happening on things only in unplanned routes—perhaps this is what fieldwork is. I think that I will be happy here, and already I have at least two “friends” and people in this house are really welcoming, but this is also a place with such traces of loneliness for me. This morning I tried to get used to the process of getting myself out the door and to a nearby café to eat breakfast (really good chai) alone when all I sort of wanted to do was pull the covers over my head. I realize just how depressed I was when I was here last.
One new thing is that some intersections actually have “walk/ don’t walk” signs in some busy places (like the intersection of Reforma and Ninos Heroes that either got me over or reactivated all my PTSD from my accident). But, of course because this is Mexico and pedestrians must scurry out of the way of cars that have all the rights of way, the walk sign is actually a little running person (with a countdown which is handy). All I could think when crossing Ninos Heroes (which is a large “road” that connects to the Pan-American Highways so is always full and has both commuters and trucks), was “run, run, it’s telling me to run!” And in truth, the amount of time to cross was just long enough for me to quickly walk.
I bought a cell phone for the first time that I’ve come down here…. again, I think that I got half of what he was telling me, all this technical stuff in rapid fire Spanish just goes through my brain (and cell phones are expensive, the cheapest one was about $50 including the first chunk of minutes). After 2 months I have to do something my phone will shut off and have to be reactivated, I’ll ask L. And then I brought it home and oy, it doesn’t work, it keeps telling me in Spanish to push menu to block or unblock and I do and then it tells me the same thing—I’m letting it sit and think on its sins hoping that when I return to it, it will be in a better frame of mind to cooperate. Of course once I asked L she pointed out that it was saying press menu “y * para bloquer o debloquer…” i.e. press menu AND * not press menu and then a bulleted list to unlock the keypad. She also couldn’t understand the process of registering my phone so passed it off to a friend of hers who very nicely did it for me, but I am very frustrated that these basic things are just so hard and complicated. I need to get back in the frame of mind of a cash economy, places that I expect will take credit cards—like buying a cell phone—don’t… so I always need to have a sense of how much cash I have, and, if I leave the city, I need to make sure that I have small bills and change—I forgot how precious $20 peso bills and $10 pesos coins are.
It seems that there’s a sort of flexible economy of knowledge among researchers, anthropologists, what have you. I am so appreciative that L is here and that she is so generous with her knowledge, and she tells me that she too had to be walked through these processes. I am really really trying to let go of the need to know how to do everything…I’m trying to lead with love towards myself as part of my ethnographic orientation. The Protestant over-achieving guilt fights with these impulses.
She and I this evening walked down to the supermercado that used to be Gigante (which is really one of the most fun words to say) for a stock up. Sariano as it is now called is sort of like a Mexican Target or Wallmart, you can buy generic clothes, electronic equipment, food, toiletries, for closer to American-like prices. It’s absolutely over stimulating to the senses. The big items I wanted to buy were a blender (licuadora)—crucial to any Mexican kitchen to make juices or salsas—and a fan (ventilador) as the one that came in my apt is a really cute retro-looking one that seems like it came from the 50s and when I turn it on makes the most appalling racket. So I bought both (my fan promises that it comes with a remote control!) and a truly random assortment of groceries some of which are necessities (olive oil, butter, eggs, cereal) and others that somehow seemed like I should get them (totopes, bottled mole that you can get in the states, guacamole, tuna). I get home and am so excited about my new products until I learn that a) the cord for the blender doesn’t stretch anywhere near the distance between an electrical outlet and a hard flat surface and b) the fan truly exemplifies that US companies send shoddy shoddy goods to 3rd world countries… not only was there no remote, but there was no threading in the holes in the base that would allow me to screw the fan stand to its base. I decided that I must have done something wrong and translated and retranslated the instructions (not ones with nice descriptive pictures) but no, it was faulty. So my fan is now literally held together with a shoe-lace (thank you Jason Price) that I used to tie the stand to the base and it works only when propped against the window and prohibited from turning.
I haven’t really wanted to eat much if at all due to the heat and travel so L introduced me to a café close by that makes really good salads and has an amazing rooftop teraza (one amusing thing is that in the midst of this gorgeous view of lights from a community on one of the hillsides, the yellow arches stand out brilliantly). I actually haven’t really eaten much comida Oaxaquena since I’ve been here, but I don’t doubt that I will get my fill and it’s really nice to have places with basic food around (I am so happy with the location of my apt in that regard).
Here in Oaxaca
I don’t know how interesting this all will be, I’m just sort of writing half this for myself, half to archive my 1st impressions, half because people asked me to, and half because I am not having daily phone calls to ruminate about my day—which means that I must be totally confused and should write double . If anthropology is all mediated through the personal experience, then I guess it’s important to record the feelings and mundane occurrences the entering into a foreign context entails (albeit in a semi-public forum). Also, I keep meaning to take pictures because I think that Oaxaca is visually stunning, but somehow my camera stayed in my bag today…a combination of finding my feet here and often having things in my hands I guess.
I’m here with the only real side-effect of the trip a migraine that seems to come on every time I fly through DF… although I was also rocking one last night so I’m not sure that I can blame everything on Mexican air. This was the best of all the times I’ve made the trip—it seems to me to be one long stream of anxiety producing hoops: the beyond early morning arrival at LAX prefaced with a sleepless night, the mindless wait for immigration heightened by a sense of mild terror that a) they might not let me in and b) without a clock present, I might miss my flight, the couple hours of sitting in the hot airless sala B, and then dealing with my monstrously large bags in Oaxacan customs (thank god that when I hit the button the traffic light gave me a green “pase” and I didn’t have to open everything for customs). I took a collective taxi from the airport (packed as full as possible as always) and the driver was not happy with me… not only was I the last one in, which meant that my ginormous bags had to be moved every time someone else wanted to get their stuff out, but he totally tried to drop me off at an intersection 2 blks from my apt and then argued with me over where I was going. I won with my obstinacy and insistence but not exactly what I wanted to do after a long day traveling. Also, I had to give up my idea that I wouldn’t really have to carry both bags (that weighed about 140 lbs not including my two carry-ons with my electronic equipment) because I could find a cart in the Oaxacan airport (no) and pay the taxi driver to bring my bags in (no, although he did in the end drop me at the door).
I reached my building but oy, the woman who was going to meet me wasn’t there yet (I have since learned that she truly operates on Mexican time) and nobody who was knew who I was, luckily people were pleasant if a bit suspicious. I ended up meeting the couple with the apt behind mine (the apt that was supposed to be mine until they showeed up with cash and cried) who are a German archeologist and partner working in Monte Alban. L came and—this is soo fieldwork—she was late because she got a ride home from a member of the community, but he had a couple stops he had to make, so she was along for the ride. She’s really nice and our research interests are well aligned, it’s good to feel like I’ll have a friend here who speaks the same intellectual language that I do. What’s also great was that when I explained my research plans to her, she totally got it… which no one else so far in causal conversation has. She has a friend doing research on ED in Cuernavaca who has had no prob observing exams, which gives me great hope. As she said “there’s so many people in the room anyways, who cares if you’re there?” This of course raises interesting questions about the assumptions of a certain publicness in Mexican medical care—something that I want to flag and track.
My apt is really nice with high ceilings, there is a ¾ wall between the living-room/ kitchen and the 2nd bedroom, which I have turned into a study and which opens onto the street—although there are bars over the window so I have been leaving the window open to try to encourage air flow. As you walk in there’s the cutest thing, a bar/ table separates the cooking and sitting areas and there are two thin iron arches with twining grape vine motifs, one over the table and the other forming a little archway in the middle of the room (with a space next to it that’s just open)—very cute and random. My kitchen is sparsely furnished so I have started a list of basic things to get, including a firestarter to make the stove work. I have a small oven, but no baking supplies, and a studio sized fridge. I have a double bed that sags in the middle and there is a single bed in my study. The ironic thing is that I felt like I packed so much and my clothes fit exactly in the space offered (sort of) and with all the pictures and personal touches I thought I was bringing, the apt still looks pretty bare and stark (I should I have brought my NYC apt decorations and traveled like an old-school anthropologist with porters)! The only three downsides to the apt is that the only big lights are long uncovered fluorescents (although there are small lamps in every room and I am totally rocking the indirect mood lighting), there are very few windows and poor airflow, and the shower pressure leaves much to be desired. But, those are really not the end of the world. My bedroom and bathroom windows look into the shared courtyard that has a ton of plants and flowering trees—I heard hummingbirds yesterday afternoon. The only downside of this is that my bedroom is directly across from the gate to exit the courtyard so I hear it anytime anyone comes or leaves or when the Germans talk loudly in their kitchen or having a party in the courtyard.
I’m going to have to learn to get gas, water, and internet myself… all very daunting propositions.
I’m here with the only real side-effect of the trip a migraine that seems to come on every time I fly through DF… although I was also rocking one last night so I’m not sure that I can blame everything on Mexican air. This was the best of all the times I’ve made the trip—it seems to me to be one long stream of anxiety producing hoops: the beyond early morning arrival at LAX prefaced with a sleepless night, the mindless wait for immigration heightened by a sense of mild terror that a) they might not let me in and b) without a clock present, I might miss my flight, the couple hours of sitting in the hot airless sala B, and then dealing with my monstrously large bags in Oaxacan customs (thank god that when I hit the button the traffic light gave me a green “pase” and I didn’t have to open everything for customs). I took a collective taxi from the airport (packed as full as possible as always) and the driver was not happy with me… not only was I the last one in, which meant that my ginormous bags had to be moved every time someone else wanted to get their stuff out, but he totally tried to drop me off at an intersection 2 blks from my apt and then argued with me over where I was going. I won with my obstinacy and insistence but not exactly what I wanted to do after a long day traveling. Also, I had to give up my idea that I wouldn’t really have to carry both bags (that weighed about 140 lbs not including my two carry-ons with my electronic equipment) because I could find a cart in the Oaxacan airport (no) and pay the taxi driver to bring my bags in (no, although he did in the end drop me at the door).
I reached my building but oy, the woman who was going to meet me wasn’t there yet (I have since learned that she truly operates on Mexican time) and nobody who was knew who I was, luckily people were pleasant if a bit suspicious. I ended up meeting the couple with the apt behind mine (the apt that was supposed to be mine until they showeed up with cash and cried) who are a German archeologist and partner working in Monte Alban. L came and—this is soo fieldwork—she was late because she got a ride home from a member of the community, but he had a couple stops he had to make, so she was along for the ride. She’s really nice and our research interests are well aligned, it’s good to feel like I’ll have a friend here who speaks the same intellectual language that I do. What’s also great was that when I explained my research plans to her, she totally got it… which no one else so far in causal conversation has. She has a friend doing research on ED in Cuernavaca who has had no prob observing exams, which gives me great hope. As she said “there’s so many people in the room anyways, who cares if you’re there?” This of course raises interesting questions about the assumptions of a certain publicness in Mexican medical care—something that I want to flag and track.
My apt is really nice with high ceilings, there is a ¾ wall between the living-room/ kitchen and the 2nd bedroom, which I have turned into a study and which opens onto the street—although there are bars over the window so I have been leaving the window open to try to encourage air flow. As you walk in there’s the cutest thing, a bar/ table separates the cooking and sitting areas and there are two thin iron arches with twining grape vine motifs, one over the table and the other forming a little archway in the middle of the room (with a space next to it that’s just open)—very cute and random. My kitchen is sparsely furnished so I have started a list of basic things to get, including a firestarter to make the stove work. I have a small oven, but no baking supplies, and a studio sized fridge. I have a double bed that sags in the middle and there is a single bed in my study. The ironic thing is that I felt like I packed so much and my clothes fit exactly in the space offered (sort of) and with all the pictures and personal touches I thought I was bringing, the apt still looks pretty bare and stark (I should I have brought my NYC apt decorations and traveled like an old-school anthropologist with porters)! The only three downsides to the apt is that the only big lights are long uncovered fluorescents (although there are small lamps in every room and I am totally rocking the indirect mood lighting), there are very few windows and poor airflow, and the shower pressure leaves much to be desired. But, those are really not the end of the world. My bedroom and bathroom windows look into the shared courtyard that has a ton of plants and flowering trees—I heard hummingbirds yesterday afternoon. The only downside of this is that my bedroom is directly across from the gate to exit the courtyard so I hear it anytime anyone comes or leaves or when the Germans talk loudly in their kitchen or having a party in the courtyard.
I’m going to have to learn to get gas, water, and internet myself… all very daunting propositions.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
1st one
I'm off again to Oaxaca Thurs am and will be there through the end of Nov (if things go as planned). As of Friday my cell phone is canceled and I will be reachable via vonage (internet connectivity willing) .... email me for my new "CA" phone number. I hope to be posting updates, stories, and pictures throughout my fieldwork stay and guests are always welcome! I will as always appreciate e-support, advice, and fun stories.
Besos!
Besos!
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