Hello America.
Hello real milk. Hello cheetos sin extra picante. Hello cars. Goodbye open doors, goodbye community. Hello individuals.
It is my second full day back, and I feel that I need to write some things before I start forgetting things.
It is really difficult to convey my emotions for the town of Pisté. I feel that I can explain it, but I don't know that I can really capture the essence of what it was. This town of 5,000 was the most welcoming, caring community I have ever felt a part of. And after only seven weeks, I really did feel like a part of it.
I feel like the best way to express it is through a series of stories.
Our first Friday in Mexico happened to be Nichole's birthday. Nichole was one of the other 9 students in the program. After a small party at the treehouse (Quetzil, our professor's house, where we had class every day), we were informed of a party/concert in Vallodolid, about 30 minutes away by car. We had an acquaintance, Fernando, who would be there. Fernando was an on-the-side Spanish tutor basically. He arranged for his friend Carlos to pick us all up in his truck. We all piled in the back of his truck, and rode to Vallodolid. On the way there Marion (another student) told us terrible jokes, we were stopped at a military checkpoint and all had to get out of the truck, and we had some decent conversation despite the wind. The concert was held at a baseball field outside, with two huge stages. Probably a couple thousand people, children to adults, and lots of dancing. I don't dance... but in Vallodolid, I danced a bit. Everyone did... it's just what happened. After a long night of talking in Spanish, Maya, and meeting tons of people from Pisté who recognized us as the kids that went to Oxxo to buy ice cream every day, we truly realized how much we stuck out in Pisté, and how well everyone already knew us, simply from being there and being talked about. Regardless, around 4am we were ready to go. We had class at 8 in the morning, and we weren't used to partying like Pistélenos. Carlos told us that he was still too drunk, and he was gonna get a taxi home in the morning. He gave us the keys to the truck, and told us to just leave it parked at Quetzil's house. So on my first weekend in Mexico, I was driving home a truckful of drunk american students in a truck that belonged to someone that I met that night, who was a friend of an acquaintance. Carlos gave us his truck like it was a normal thing, no big deal. I just had to be trusted to drive 30 minutes in Mexico at 4 in the morning, and he met me that day... who cares.
One of my favorite experiences was my first time meeting Rodrigo. Rodrigo was Rickey's host dad, but he was only 28. He had three children, 2 boys (7 and 8 I believe), and one girl, Shassid (2-3ish). Rickey was always telling me that he would ask his dad if I could come over for dinner, and then maybe afterwards he could come over and use my internet or something. I felt like a third grader, but it was in a good way, it was fun. One day I was walking down a road that I thought Rickey's house was on, and I looked inside one of the houses thinking it might be his. Sure enough, I saw Rickey walk by the doorway, and I yelled his name. He didn't hear me, but soon after I saw Rodrigo look outside. When he saw me, he called me in. He speaks English very well, he was self-taught using basketball games and movies. He told me that Rickey had just asked if I could come over for dinner sometime, and they were about to have dinner right then, so I should eat with them. I had just eaten, but I agreed anyway, I figured it'd be a good way to meet people and forge connections. Rodrigo told me "We have a phrase in Mexico, it goes 'You eat in my house once, you eat in my house 17 times' Now you are a part of my family, and you are welcome to eat here, breakfast lunch or dinner, whenever you would like". Throughout the next 6 weeks I took him up on the offer several times. His wife, Andrea, made pancakes for me every chance she got. I ate plenty of flautas and hot dogs and pasta and pancakes, and always felt completely welcomed. I genuinely felt like they appreciated me as a part of their family.
I expressed interest to Quetzil in returning to OSEA 2011, but that I would like to do so as an assistant, rather than a student. I couldn't afford to pay again what I paid the first time, but if I could actually receive a paycheck for doing what I did this summer, it would be a dream come true. He said it was definitely something we would be talking about, and he would love to have me return. I expressed this interest to Rodrigo as well, and he told me that if I want to come back next year, I could do so and live with his family completely free of charge.
One night, after our clausura (which I posted about in my last entry), I was very frustrated with Quetzil. After a party at Gabi's house for her host-grandmother, I made my way over to Rodrigo's. Rodrigo could tell I was frustrated, and made me tell him what had happened. He told me about another phrase they have in Mexico. "When a man tips his hat, and the hat belongs on the head of another, everyone knows". He did a lot to help calm me down that night, and we ended up taking family pictures basically, with his entire family and the 5 students that were at his house that night.
The following night, while eating dinner at his house for the last time, he told me that he and Andrea were thinking about not taking part in OSEA next year, they didn't want to take any more students for Quetzil after hearing about the things he had done, and the frustrations that we had. I told them that completely the opposite of what I wanted to happen. If anything can make the experience better for students, it is to have a family like that, to be involved with a family like theirs. Their entire family was so warm and compassionate and welcoming, I can't imagine what my time would've been like had I not known them. I told them that they needed to accept students next year, because if they didn't, where was I going to live? I told them that their house was my house next year, because they were my family. Andrea began to cry, but she had changed her mind. She said she really hoped that I would come back next year, but even if I couldn't, they would open their family again. She said it would be difficult, because it's always difficult when the students leave, but this year's group was the group that had formed the most, closest connections with all the families.
The very next night was the big program-ending party. Too much happened there to write it all down right now, but one of my personal highlights was a time when Rodrigo was talking to Rickey and I outside, while the party was still going on inside. He pulled two $2 dollar bills from his wallet. He told us that he had saved those since Andres was born, he'd had them for 7 years. He ripped each one in half, and handed half of one to Rickey, and half of the other to me. He told us that he didn't care when, soon he hoped, but it was just necessary that at some point we needed to bring his money back to him. This was one of the most touching, moving experiences I have ever been a part of. It wasn't about what he was giving away, it was about how much he meant it. Rodrigo is the perfect example of someone from Pisté, for me. He fully embraces the lifestyle. It is definitely much moreso a culture of community rather than individuals. There is no greed or corruption, there's enough of that in the politics. The entire community of Pisté is there to take care of the rest of the community. If someone is in need, there are 5 families reaching out to give.
Rodrigo told me that if I want to set up my own program in Pisté, if I want to come and stay for 1 month or 3 months, if I want to bring 2 people or 4 people or 6 people, if we can afford plane tickets, he can set us up with food, places to live, everything we might need while we're there. He said that he knows enough people that are willing to give, and from what I've seen in the past 7 weeks, it's definitely not difficult to make such connections.
I feel very strongly compelled to return to Pisté, and try the OSEA program again with Quetzil. If I can run SELT the way I think it could be run, and make it into the program that it can be, and get Quetzil more involved and active, then great. However, if I try next summer, and Quetzil still is not active or receptive, but still just looking for another way to make himself look good, then I plan on returning again for a 3rd summer, with the intention of beginning my own program with all the connections I have set up.
I really feel like I need to continue with the relationships I've formed, and I need to strengthen my ties to the community, and I cannot give up on the work that I have started in Pisté.
It is my second full day back, and I feel that I need to write some things before I start forgetting things.
It is really difficult to convey my emotions for the town of Pisté. I feel that I can explain it, but I don't know that I can really capture the essence of what it was. This town of 5,000 was the most welcoming, caring community I have ever felt a part of. And after only seven weeks, I really did feel like a part of it.
I feel like the best way to express it is through a series of stories.
Our first Friday in Mexico happened to be Nichole's birthday. Nichole was one of the other 9 students in the program. After a small party at the treehouse (Quetzil, our professor's house, where we had class every day), we were informed of a party/concert in Vallodolid, about 30 minutes away by car. We had an acquaintance, Fernando, who would be there. Fernando was an on-the-side Spanish tutor basically. He arranged for his friend Carlos to pick us all up in his truck. We all piled in the back of his truck, and rode to Vallodolid. On the way there Marion (another student) told us terrible jokes, we were stopped at a military checkpoint and all had to get out of the truck, and we had some decent conversation despite the wind. The concert was held at a baseball field outside, with two huge stages. Probably a couple thousand people, children to adults, and lots of dancing. I don't dance... but in Vallodolid, I danced a bit. Everyone did... it's just what happened. After a long night of talking in Spanish, Maya, and meeting tons of people from Pisté who recognized us as the kids that went to Oxxo to buy ice cream every day, we truly realized how much we stuck out in Pisté, and how well everyone already knew us, simply from being there and being talked about. Regardless, around 4am we were ready to go. We had class at 8 in the morning, and we weren't used to partying like Pistélenos. Carlos told us that he was still too drunk, and he was gonna get a taxi home in the morning. He gave us the keys to the truck, and told us to just leave it parked at Quetzil's house. So on my first weekend in Mexico, I was driving home a truckful of drunk american students in a truck that belonged to someone that I met that night, who was a friend of an acquaintance. Carlos gave us his truck like it was a normal thing, no big deal. I just had to be trusted to drive 30 minutes in Mexico at 4 in the morning, and he met me that day... who cares.
One of my favorite experiences was my first time meeting Rodrigo. Rodrigo was Rickey's host dad, but he was only 28. He had three children, 2 boys (7 and 8 I believe), and one girl, Shassid (2-3ish). Rickey was always telling me that he would ask his dad if I could come over for dinner, and then maybe afterwards he could come over and use my internet or something. I felt like a third grader, but it was in a good way, it was fun. One day I was walking down a road that I thought Rickey's house was on, and I looked inside one of the houses thinking it might be his. Sure enough, I saw Rickey walk by the doorway, and I yelled his name. He didn't hear me, but soon after I saw Rodrigo look outside. When he saw me, he called me in. He speaks English very well, he was self-taught using basketball games and movies. He told me that Rickey had just asked if I could come over for dinner sometime, and they were about to have dinner right then, so I should eat with them. I had just eaten, but I agreed anyway, I figured it'd be a good way to meet people and forge connections. Rodrigo told me "We have a phrase in Mexico, it goes 'You eat in my house once, you eat in my house 17 times' Now you are a part of my family, and you are welcome to eat here, breakfast lunch or dinner, whenever you would like". Throughout the next 6 weeks I took him up on the offer several times. His wife, Andrea, made pancakes for me every chance she got. I ate plenty of flautas and hot dogs and pasta and pancakes, and always felt completely welcomed. I genuinely felt like they appreciated me as a part of their family.
I expressed interest to Quetzil in returning to OSEA 2011, but that I would like to do so as an assistant, rather than a student. I couldn't afford to pay again what I paid the first time, but if I could actually receive a paycheck for doing what I did this summer, it would be a dream come true. He said it was definitely something we would be talking about, and he would love to have me return. I expressed this interest to Rodrigo as well, and he told me that if I want to come back next year, I could do so and live with his family completely free of charge.
One night, after our clausura (which I posted about in my last entry), I was very frustrated with Quetzil. After a party at Gabi's house for her host-grandmother, I made my way over to Rodrigo's. Rodrigo could tell I was frustrated, and made me tell him what had happened. He told me about another phrase they have in Mexico. "When a man tips his hat, and the hat belongs on the head of another, everyone knows". He did a lot to help calm me down that night, and we ended up taking family pictures basically, with his entire family and the 5 students that were at his house that night.
The following night, while eating dinner at his house for the last time, he told me that he and Andrea were thinking about not taking part in OSEA next year, they didn't want to take any more students for Quetzil after hearing about the things he had done, and the frustrations that we had. I told them that completely the opposite of what I wanted to happen. If anything can make the experience better for students, it is to have a family like that, to be involved with a family like theirs. Their entire family was so warm and compassionate and welcoming, I can't imagine what my time would've been like had I not known them. I told them that they needed to accept students next year, because if they didn't, where was I going to live? I told them that their house was my house next year, because they were my family. Andrea began to cry, but she had changed her mind. She said she really hoped that I would come back next year, but even if I couldn't, they would open their family again. She said it would be difficult, because it's always difficult when the students leave, but this year's group was the group that had formed the most, closest connections with all the families.
The very next night was the big program-ending party. Too much happened there to write it all down right now, but one of my personal highlights was a time when Rodrigo was talking to Rickey and I outside, while the party was still going on inside. He pulled two $2 dollar bills from his wallet. He told us that he had saved those since Andres was born, he'd had them for 7 years. He ripped each one in half, and handed half of one to Rickey, and half of the other to me. He told us that he didn't care when, soon he hoped, but it was just necessary that at some point we needed to bring his money back to him. This was one of the most touching, moving experiences I have ever been a part of. It wasn't about what he was giving away, it was about how much he meant it. Rodrigo is the perfect example of someone from Pisté, for me. He fully embraces the lifestyle. It is definitely much moreso a culture of community rather than individuals. There is no greed or corruption, there's enough of that in the politics. The entire community of Pisté is there to take care of the rest of the community. If someone is in need, there are 5 families reaching out to give.
Rodrigo told me that if I want to set up my own program in Pisté, if I want to come and stay for 1 month or 3 months, if I want to bring 2 people or 4 people or 6 people, if we can afford plane tickets, he can set us up with food, places to live, everything we might need while we're there. He said that he knows enough people that are willing to give, and from what I've seen in the past 7 weeks, it's definitely not difficult to make such connections.
I feel very strongly compelled to return to Pisté, and try the OSEA program again with Quetzil. If I can run SELT the way I think it could be run, and make it into the program that it can be, and get Quetzil more involved and active, then great. However, if I try next summer, and Quetzil still is not active or receptive, but still just looking for another way to make himself look good, then I plan on returning again for a 3rd summer, with the intention of beginning my own program with all the connections I have set up.
I really feel like I need to continue with the relationships I've formed, and I need to strengthen my ties to the community, and I cannot give up on the work that I have started in Pisté.