Last week we visited the Biosphere Reserve in Teohuacán. Yeah, I didn’t really know what it was going to be either. I half expected our rattly 15 passenger van to roll up to something like this:
And to maybe even find a couple of stoners trapped inside:
But surprisingly there was no modernistic glass bubble filled with plants and animals, or Pauly Shore for that matter. Instead, after about 2 hours of bumping along the winding, hilly highways of central Mexico, our van stopped in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Maybe the driver just needs to stretch his legs, I thought. Or maybe the engine overheated. Vamos chicos! I guess not.
We got out of the van to find ourselves in a sparse forest of 30-foot cacti. I’d never seen a landscape like that before. Dry brown hills from which protruded enormous faded green, gnarled up monsters. It reminded me of a gigantic Biore strip. Yeah thats gross.. sorry about that. If you look closely at the hill in the background you can see what I mean.
So we were in the desert. The hot, dry, Mexican desert. Not what I expected, but I had forgotten how much I actually love deserts. Of course, its no vacation in paradise traipsing through a brambly, thorny, sun-bleached land, but those gnarled branches actually hide some gems. Our guide Efrén seemed to know something about every single plant in the reserve, and you’d be surprised at the biodiversity that exists in such a parched land.
The tour of the biosphere turned out to be a journey for all the senses. Efrén had us touching, smelling and even tasting all the plants. Each one seemed to have some sort of medicinal property, either that or it could kill you. There was one plant that served as a contraceptive for women, but if a man ate it he’d become violently ill within the hour. One would give you hours of energy or, if you eat enough, get you high. One prick from a thorn on the Mala Mujer and you’d find yourself burning and scratching for a week! We tasted the bark of a tree that was supposedly sweet–tasted like tree bark to me. We ate the pink, chile-shaped fruit of a little cactus, which supposedly tasted like kiwi. One fruit I didn’t try looked like a baby pineapple. Apparently if you eat it hot (just from being in the sun) it will give you instant diarrhea, but cooled its a tasty sour treat.
The most incredible thing about this place lays in one surprising fact. Efrén pointed out a funny speckled rock. “Do joo know what is?” he asked us.
Coral.
This desert used to be a sea, who knows how many thousands (millions?) of years ago. How incredible is it that this dry, barren land was once a watery paradise, teeming with aquatic little creatures? To this day it produces salt from what remains in the hard, cracked soil.
This got me thinking.
This place used to be vibrant, active, and full of life-giving water. Now it is a desolate tangle of thorns and spines. And as for the few things that manage to survive, life is a battle. Each creature has developed its own form of self-protection from the brutal climate: some unpleasant, some lethal. It seems as if everything would like to trap you in its snare and have you for its own.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of another place I know.
Overall, the biosphere turned out to be a worthwhile place to spend the day. I found myself captivated by the textures, patterns, and details of the plants and minerals. Here’s a few more photos I took that day.
This tree looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie.
The Mala Mujer
Tangly brambles.
Asiento de Suegra (Mother-In-Law's Seat)
Efrén and the Devil's Slipper
I’ve been thinking a lot about inspiration lately. Due to some recent events and, I guess ever since I watched Exit Through the Gift Shop, its been on my mind. The movie alluded a lot to the question of what really qualifies as art, and what is the line between inspiration and plagiarism. Lately, its occurred to me that inspiration may be nothing more than plagiarism with style.
This month I’ve been working on this music project called FAWM (February Album Writing Month). People from all around the world work through the month to write 14 songs (an album) in 28 days (February). The main idea behind the challenge is that “You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” — Jack London. In the past week I’ve fallen pretty far behind schedule (one song every two days). I’ve written two songs so far and I’m putting some finishing touches on another that I’m collaborating on with a band called the LBG Project. If you want to check out what I’ve written so far, here’s the link:
http://fawm.org/fawmers/littlebird/
I guess I don’t have a lot to say this time, but I thought I’d share a few pictures from my trip of things that inspire me.
Baby cactus, Puebla
Globos, El Zocalo de San Pedro Cholula
Calcium deposits, Hierve el Agua, Oaxaca
Mercado, Oaxaca, Oaxaca
Children playing with balloons, El Zocalo de Oaxaca
Pirámide, Monte Albán, Oaxaca
Artist painting talavera, Puebla
Children catching candies thrown off the roof of the convent on El Día del santo that blesses pets, San Pedro, Cholula
I’m a week late on this post, but there’s a good reason! Reason #1 is I’ve been making friends here so I’ve been a little busier. Reason #2 is that I’ve been trying to take a photo to share with all of you, but my subject seems to be pretty elusive. Anyway I finally got the picture and a spare minute at the same time sooooo, here goes.
Coincidences–the title of this post and perhaps this month. Since I’ve been here I have experienced a series of bizarre coincidences and I feel like I have to share them with the world. So, this post is less about Mexico, but still about my time abroad, and very entertaining I think, so enjoy.
Happenstance #1
I got a message about a week ago from my cousin Charise in Minnesota. She told me that she showed a friend a picture of our family from Christmas (we all got Snuggies from Obasan) and her friend told her that she knew me. Strange since I live in Delaware and I’ve never actually been to Minnesota. Well, it turns out that my cousin goes to Clark University, the same Clark U I’d seen on my periodic trips to visit my friends at The Woo up in Worcester, Mass (even this has some funny circumstances surrounding it). Somehow I never put the two together. So anyway, my cousin’s friend met me at The Woo one time and recognized me in the photo! Weird huh? Oh wait the rest of the stories get weirder.
Happenstance #2
The other night on my way out to get a drink with a couple of my friends, I passed this really cool graffiti. It was a life-size stencil of this guy looking over his shoulder while (I think) spray painting a wall. It reminded me a lot of this famous graffiti artist I’d heard of before–what was his name? Bonzy? Bunny? Bootsie? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I wanted to get a picture of it, but I was in a cab so I decided to remember the street name and go back someday when it was light out.
Meanwhile, my friend Grace posted something on Facebook about this movie Exit Through the Gift Shop. Someone else had recommended it to me before, but I had no idea what it was about. A few days later another friend posted something about it on Facebook–now it really had my curiousity. I looked it up on IMDb but I guess I got distracted because all I saw was the cover with the critic reviews that said things like “Joyous” and “Funny as Hell.” Still having no idea what it was about, I decided I’d try to watch it sometime.
Back to the graffiti, I finally remembered the artist’s name: Banksy. I looked up some of his other work online and the styles seemed similar so I was really excited to get out and photograph it. I couldn’t wait to tell my friend Eric about it, I knew he’d think it was really cool, but I decided to wait until I had the picture to show him. That was until coincidence #2 happened and everything changed. (Too dramatic?)
One night I was skyping with Eric when he mentioned that he’d just watched Exit Through the Gift Shop. “What the heck,” I thought (or rather, yelled at Eric),”why is this movie popping up everywhere?” Well then he went on to tell me how it was about this famous street artist, Banksy. Hold the phone (uh, the video chat). This can’t be happening. I had literally spent all week trying to remember this guys name aaaand I’d been thinking about this movie all week, having absolutely no idea that they were related at all! Crazy right? I thought it was. Anyway, I finally got a picture of the stencil. Turns out its hidden during the day behind tons of handmade baskets, its only visible at night when the store closes–I found this out after walking back and forth on the street about 12 times! Here it is:
Happenstance #3
This may be the craziest of all. Its a little complex so try to follow. I have a brother here in Mexico named Memo. He studies finance or accounting–something to do with numbers. Anyway, one of the first nights I was here we were talking and he asked me what my last name was, do I have any siblings, etc. A week or two later we were talking again and he started asking a lot of questions about my sister. “What is her name? Oh Treeesha.. Treesha Klynat…Hmm.. And she is designer? In New York? Hmmm…”
I asked him what all the questions were about and he told me he thinks he’s seen her work before. Really? Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. Here’s how it happened: One of Memo’s friends from school studies architecture (we’ll call him Juan). Juan went to New York in December to find inspiration. Juan has a friend in New York (we’ll call him Joe). Joe apparently knows my sister and showed Juan her work. Juan came home and showed Memo (who studies numbers, remember, nothing to do with design) my sister’s work. I live with Memo.
I couldn’t believe what was happening when he told me! In short, my mind was blown. I still don’t know “Joe’s” actual name because “Juan” is in Germany right now…
In conclusion, “it’s a small world after all.” Seriously.
This next chapter in my ‘blogcito’ is all about the thing that everyone wants more of, people will do almost anything for, and what makes the world go round. Plata, verde, dinero, pesos, or as us gringos call it: MONEY. Here in Mexico you find it in some of the strangest places.*Now a little disclaimer, I am no economic expert, the following are just some of my observations and humble opinions*
Currently I myself am hurting for a little cash of my own to throw around. I’ve been being very careful with the few pesos I have (you’d be surprised at how quickly the bus rides, taxis, and cervezas add up–Oh Mom and Dad, cerveza means fruit juice…). Of course, one man’s ‘few pesos’ is another man’s motherlode ’round these parts. I’ve noticed that there’s a pretty big disparity in income levels here in Cholula. It seems like people either have everything they need or barely have anything at all. You can see it just watching the cars go by: first a shiny new foreign-made SUV, next a clunky hunk of metal that’s rusting all over.
I’ve been trying to understand the Mexicans’ relationship with money. Walking through the zócalo (the main square in town) you can find people doing just about anything for money. People shine your shoes, sell handmade jewelry, homemade potato chips, fruit and vegetables (probably grown in their own garden), nuts, oh and the most bizarre: grasshoppers con chile. Each for just 10 pesos–slightly less than a dollar. My friend Dan and I wonder how this type of business can really sustain anyone.
While from the streets the city seems to scream of its poverty, take one step inside any of the supposed 365 churches in Cholula and you would think you’d entered a royal palace. There is an incredible amount of gold and adornment in the churches here. I did a little research (well, I looked up Mexico on Wikipedia) and I found that Mexico is the world’s second most Catholic nation after Brazil. This doesn’t surprise me at all. The people here must give so much of their money to the church–not just to adorn it, but also to maintain it. I feel sorry for the guy who has to dust all of those saints off.
About the title. Atínale al Precio is my favorite tv show here. Its the Mexican The Price Is Right and its strikingly similar to the original–they even have the big wheel! It reminds me of eating Ramen noodles in front of the tv with my sister for some reason. As I was writing this, I was trying to decide whether I wanted to make the alternate title “Mo’ Pesos, Mo’ Problems” (an obvious allusion to Biggie Smalls’ song) or “No Pesos, No Problem.” The story behind the second is that I went out the other night very short on dinero, and I mean very short (I had about the equivalent of $2.50 US dollars on me.) Long story short, through a number of thrifty maneuvers I was able to drink (apple juice, Mom and Dad) for free the whole night. Now before you get all worked up, just wait! I’m not talking about flirting at the bar or anything. Since its the beginning of the semester, all the bars/clubs near campus have specials to get people to come in, where they offer the first drink free (usually something small and watered down). Well thanks to an energetic Mexican friend who can’t stay in one place for more than 5 minutes [ 
] I was able to enjoy this deal at a couple different places, so I didn’t end up buying a single drink all night!
Anyway, from what I can see, I’m not sure if any generalizations can really be made about the Mexicans and their money, at least I’m in no position to do so. I can certainly say, however, that I’ve found them to be very warm and generous people.
After a 6 hour flight to Mexico City and a two hour drive to Puebla, I made it here to my home for the semester, San Pedro Cholula. Its apparently the oldest living city in the Americas. There are ancient pyramids (dating back to the first century B.C.) about 15 minutes from my house–walking, the best way to get around unless you’re a real daredevil and take the bus… we’ll get to that. Of course when the Europeans arrived here in Mexico (how many hundred years ago?) they did the place up in true conquistador fashion: building cathedrals literally over top all of the indigenous temples and converting everyone to Catholicism. Fortunately, the cathedrals themselves are also quite a sight, covered in gold (which my host mom swears is all genuine), adorned with saints, and lots of helpful signs for us turistas.
My house here is very nice. It doesn’t seem like much from the outside, in fact, none of the architecture in Cholula does. From the street the city looks pretty poor–lots of chipped stucco walls that haven’t seen a fresh coat of paint in probably 20 years or more. But inside, I’ve found, there are a lot of hidden gems. Heavy metal gates roll away to reveal small oases within: courtyards with gardens and all sorts of flowers and fruit trees and brightly colored walls.
My host mom is a little old lady named Maria del Carmen, or Carmelita. She reminds me of my grandma–barely 5 ft, caring, very generous, and laughs at just about anything. She lives with her son David who recently moved back home from Portland, Oregon. She tells me that her nephew Memo will be coming on Sunday night. He’s my age and studies at the university too.
The house is never quiet, but in a good way. Carmelita is usually buzzing about the kitchen, cooking something for whoever happens to be around. David comes in and out with various people who are all somehow related–cousins, nephews, etc. There’s always talking and laughter in the house, whether it be from the family or the telenovelas playing in the background. And then there’s Burbuja, the family dog–a scruffy little poodle in a colorful sweater. I’ve never met a dog that’s at once as adorable and pathetic as she is. She does this thing where she stands on her hind legs, cocks her head to the side, and peers out at you from behind a curly tuft of hair, and it may be one of the cutest, most comical things I’ve seen. Her name means bubble, which I think perfectly suits her cheerful doggy disposition. I tried to get a picture of her standing up but it seems she’s camera shy.
Ahh and I almost forgot, el camión! That’s what they call the buses here. David told me that in the US only the best drivers drive the buses, but here in Mexico, only the worst. I’m not sure if I agree. The worst as far as skills go, no, but worst in regards to obeying the law, then yes, most definitely yes. The camiones fly down the street, stop on dime, and as soon as you have one foot on they take off. This morning I couldn’t believe how many people were on the bus. I think everyone was going back to work after having off for El Día de los Reyes. Either way, the bus was full. Like completely full–all the seats, all the space in the narrow aisle. You would think people would just wait for the next bus. But no. Just when I thought to myself, okay this bus is at capacity, not one more person could fit, we let SEVEN more people on. I’m not even exaggerating.
I’ve had a lot of fun exploring the city during my first week here (well 5 days). I’m going to try to update once a week with some pictures and anecdotes from my trip. Hasta luego amigos
..is soon to be my inside of the borders. I leave for Mexico in like 15 hours. The contents of my suitcase still just an empty backpack, clothes strewn all over my room, my Obasan’s (grandma’s) birthday party in a few hours.. am I stressing out? Nah. Well maybe a little. There’s a lot to do before I leave. Let’s just pray that when I actually pack those suitcases they’re not over the weight limit.
Thanks to everyone who made my last few weeks in the states special. If you feel so inclined, you can follow my journeys and experiences abroad here. I’ll miss you all Que te vayas bien. Un abrazo.
