I'm getting older...

So I went to church today. Everyone was really welcoming, even more than I had expected. It felt the same until I opened up the hymn book. We sang the same songs, but in Spanish! I do this alot. I realize that I am in a Spanish-speaking country but sometimes, I find myself suprised to hear Spanish. For example: Madalena y Ludo talk to their dogs in Spanish. What a trip! Dog's understand Spanish too. I have never in all my life heard someone speak a language other than English to their pet. And before today, I had not imagined singing hymns in a different language. It was another one of those Oooh moments!

It also occured to me today that I am older than the missionaries. What a weird realization!! I didn't know what time Sacrament meeting started so I just showed up at 9 and hoped for the best. Church doesn't actually start until 10. I was early. So were the missionaries. Suprise suprise. There was one Mexican missionary and one American missionary. We had nice conversation but I realized that they both had these odd social habits that only younger guys have. I'm not miss social butterfly so I am certainly not criticizing these guys for their awkwardness. Rather, I am just reflecting on an interesting observation. I met a girl from Holland at church. She is not a member but she is interested in the church because she is writing her master's thesis on the rapid growth of the church in south-east Mexico. I waited while the missionaries talked with her. The first thing she said to me when we left was, "How old do you think Elder Smith is?" I responded, "Just turned 19!" We laughed because we knew that we thinking the same exact thing!

My Address

In case of emergency, of course. This isn't a desperate plea for mail!

Cerrada Prolongacion Peje de Oro
No. 3 Barrio Cuxtitali
C.P. 29230
San Cristobal de las Casas
Chiapas, Mexico

Tele # of the house: (01)967-678-59-48

Zinacantán

The second town that we went to is home to a different tribe of the Tzotsil ethnic group. It is larger in area but smaller in population than Chamula. This demographic difference probably explains why Zinacatan seems cleaner and quieter than Chamula.

Once again, the women's clothing marks the territory. The women here also wear long black skirts. But instead of being made of wool, they are made of cotton. They are more flowly than those of the women in Chamula. They wear beautiful shawls with shiny purple and blue flower embroidery. You kind of get an idea of the outfits from the pictures. We stopped at the house of a family that the tour guide knows. We only met the women because the men work in the fields during the day. The ladies were weaving, cooking, and taking care of the children. One girl did a weaving demonstration. And she gave us permission to take pictures! It was so impressive that I got fancy and recorded it on my camera. The video is not working on the blog so I posted the photo.

The guide then took us into the family's ritual room and proceeded to tell us some of his very strong opinions. First, he says he "trusts" the motivations of the Zapatistas. Then he talked at legnth about his concern that the indigenous culture is in danger of extinction to to the missionary efforts of protestants and evangelicals. He called this the "second conquest." Of course I was alarmed when he said that the Tzotsiles are never going to "go to Salt Lake City and tell the Mormons that their prophet is wrong so why should their missionaries come knocking on these people's doors telling them that sacrificing chickens is not the right way to worship God?" I appreciated his solidarity with the indigenous people and to be perfectly honest, he makes a valid point. I just hope that the Mormon missionaries are more tactful and respectul in their approach than he suggested. I am going to church tomorrow and I'll make my own opinions.

Chamula

Today I took a tour of two villages on the outskirts of San Cristobal. I read about this tour in the guidebook that the German guy I lived with in Mexico City gave me before I left. To be perfectly honest, I am desperately trying to make friends! Unfortunately, I was the only single person under 40 in the group. This making friends thing is harder than I expected! But I am really glad I went. Our guide spoke english and he was really knowledgeable and opinionated on the issues facing these two little towns. First, we went to Chamula. The town is home to one tribe from the Tzotsil ethnic Mayan group. Regular Mexican and foreign women can only live there if they marry a man from this tribe. The people of this little pueblo have fought long and hard to protect their culture. The town makes laws seperate from the Mexican government. It is totally comunal living. The women wear a certain outfit that only women of this tribe wear. The outfit consists of a long, thick, black skirt made of wool. It is held up by a thick cloth belt. Their tops are really beautiful. They are silky, ususally blue, with little gold buttons on the collar. Usually, they wear shawls around their shoulders and over their heads. And most all of them have babies on their backs. It seems to be part of the outfit! I still can't get over how young the mothers are. Maybe they aren't the moms? I don't know for sure. The poorest of the poor women don't wear shoes. The other women wear little sandals. Kinda like jellies, actually. I think I might get me a pair. I have always had a weird interest in jellies! The men usually dress more "western." However, today, I saw men wearing white and black sheep's wool tunics and cowboy hats. It was a special ritual day so that might explain why more men were dressed up. Unfortunately, pictures are strictly prohibited in Chamula. I was able to snap a few shots of the church and the market but I was careful to not get any people. The kids of Chamula are getting smart about this picture business though. A little girl came up to me and said, "hi my name is veronica. if you want a picture with me, i charge 10 pesos." I really wanted to take her up on the offer! All the kids were adorable. I could feel myself switch into like emotional mother-mode. Lots of aahhhs and ohhs. But in some ways it was really sad because they are so trained to beg for money. Little boys, probably two and three years old, came up to us with their palms out asking for "un pesooo." One boy, a little older, said he needed money to buy a notebook. They are taught what the tourists want to hear. The guide told us that it is not a good idea to give them money. I was torn.

Going into the church was another culture shock experience. Although there are crosses and saints and bells...all the things we normally associate with Catholic churches, this church is not associated with the Vatican. There is no clergy. The people don't read from the Bible. Nobody celebrates first or second communions or weddings inside the church. Instead, what is practiced is a fascinating blend of catholic and ancient mayan rituals. When you walk in, all you see is candles. Then, you look down, and notice that there are pine needles all over the floor. There are no pews. People sit on the floor and intricately arrange different colors of candles. Our guide explained that the colors and arrangements have specific significances. People also bring in soda bottles and place them in front of the candles. No idea why they do this, but it makes for an interesting display. And it is a good reminder that coca cola has literally made it into every nook and cranny of the earth. No matter how "traditional" you think people are, they drink soda. Guaranteed! I later learned that some of the soda bottles were filled with an alcohol that the people drink and offer to the saints as a sacrifice. It was interesting to observe different groups of people (mostly women) pray and chant. There are no services in the church. Everyone worships in their own way. Some bring live chickens into the church and then sacrifice them to the gods. There is no blood. Just a quick twist of the neck! Other people come in with spiritual leaders to be healed. I saw some pretty cool rituals going on with herbal plants and eggs and corn. I have not the slightest idea what the healers were doing but I am sure there was a purpose to it all.

After the church, the guide took us to the house of a spiritual leader. This particular leader was in charge of protecting the spirit of St. Anthony. There was a huge shrine in the house but it was barely visible because the entire house was filled with a thick smoke. They burn pine resin to keep away the evil spirits. And again, the ground was covered in pine needles. The smell was overwhelming. I felt a little dazed and confused when I got up to leave!

Although the city attracts a lot of tourists (mostly curious gringos like myself!), it is not phony. The people do their own thing, with or without us. They are happy to let others observe their culture as long as they are respectful. And donations are always accepted!

Fotos de Chiapas

I was a tourist for the day! I didn't even try to hide the guide book . I had out the map. I wore walking shoes. I asked for directions every five seconds. I took a taxi home. I usually try to fake it. I don't know why. The fact that I am a foot taller than everyone kinds of gives it away!

The pictures are random:

1) An exhibit of how Mayan women give birth, taken in the museum for the development of mayan medicine. The woman on her knees is the one giving birth. The man is her husband. And the woman behind her is the midwife.

2)My house!!

3-5) Really beautiful churches.

The only problem is that these pictures don't really capture the city. There are tons of signs in the center that make it known that the people of Chiapas (mainly indigenous people) do not like having their picture taken. There are cultural reasons. For example, they believe that a picture can startle your spirit and it will flee from your body. But also, I think that it is just plain demeaning. They are living their normal lives and we tourists treat them as some interactive museum exhibit. I can see how that would be annoying.

San Cristobal, Chiapas

I arrived in San Cristobal yesterday afternoon. I quickly met my mentor, Gracia, and she took me to the house that I will be living in. I live with her friend--an eclectic italian woman who moved to Mexico because she makes textiles and fell in love with the method that Mayan women in Chiapas use to weave. She has a nine year old daughter. They live in a beautiful ranch-house. It is filled with her art and textiles! Envision a layout in an Anthropologie magazine! I can onl hope that she offers to make me somehing in the three months that I am here! I live upstairs in a modest little room. I have to watch my head when I walk around because the ceilings are quite low! It has a lot of architectual charm though. I can open up these cute little doors and walk out onto the balcony overlooking her spacious backyard. And my internet works from my room! I don't have to intrude on their family space everytime I want to check my email. Such an improvement! The rent is a little steep, but I am just relieved to have a secure place to live for now. All my food is included and I have my own bathroom. She serves a midday meal at like 3pm. Mexicans (and Italians!) eat their biggest meal at this time, rather than at night. I make my own breakfast and a little something at night. So far it is working out great. She is a really good and healthy cook. And the best part is, she offers an alternative to Mexican food! Don't get me wrong, I love Mexican food. But a salad every once in a while is amazing.
I have only been out in the city one time, but my initial observation is that San Cristobal is drastically different that Mexico City. It is stunning in a third-world sort of way. The city is bustling and bright, but it lacks the world-class city intensity of the Distrito Federal. I am really amazed at how alive and visible the indigenous culture is. As culturally sensitive as I like to think I am, I was not prepared to walk through the market and see women and men holding live chickens upside-down by the feet. And I took a second look at petite, barefoot women carring huge loads on their backs that are supported by a band across their forehead. I saw several really young women lugging babies that were half the size as them in cloths wrapped around their shoulders. While I was in the bus, the other passengers had a conversation in an indigenous mayan language. I am almost certain that it was about me since I hit my head really really hard getting in the bus. I am too tall to be in San Cristobal!
I thought that San Cristobal was a jungle, but I was definitely wrong. I got caught up in the sensationalism of the Zapatistas! They live in the jungle, but not of Chiapas is like that. San Cristobal is at a really high altitude so the temperature changes a lot during the day. Nights are really cold and days are pretty warm. While I was in the car from Tuxtla (the city where the airport is), I was amazed at beautiful the landscape is. I need to take pictures. It is too hard to explain! Tomorrow I am going to be a tourist so I will try to post some of my pictures.
Today, I met with my mentor and then went to the university that she works at to start my reseach. i don't think I will be studying the Zapasistas anymore. It is hard to get permission and blah blah blah. But I will still study maternal health among indigenous women. Chiapas has a really unfortunate public health system, especially for people who are poor and marginalized. I want to study the medical services that are available for poor indigenous during their pregnancies and before and after the birth event. I want to investigate/criticize the assumption that "less modern" women want to use "less modern" medical services. San Cristobal has more ngo's than any other city in the world. Many offer health services. It is interesting because many indigenous women have begun to accept the very new age services that these organizations offer--water births, prenatal massages, accupuncture, etc...Interesting, right? It is a perfect example of non-linear development. Non governmental organizations are filling up the social space that the Mexican government abandoned during its transition to neoliberalism. Indigenous women, who are usually thought of as being passive in regards to their health, are bypassing the limited social services that the state offers and instead are actively searching out alternative ways to recive medical attention. These are just my initial research ideas. Now I need to see if I am right by talking with women! I met a guy in the library today who offered to help me translate. He works for an organization that helps integrate street children into public schools. It was interesting because although he is Mexican, he doesn't speak Spanish fluently. His first language is tzotil and like me, he started to learn spanish in high school. Such a trip!
Keep in touch! I don't want to be doing all the talking. Let me know what's going on in all your lives!

SUSHI in Mexico

Really, it exists. And it was good. I thought you all should know!