Am I More Than One Chicken Away from Skinning a Cat?

The answer to that question, thankfully, is no. I’m able to remain reasonably secure in the hierarchy of human --> ape --> dog --> cat --> chicken --> rat --> slug --> etc. It is, to an extent, an arbitrary hierarchy, placing animals that humans want as pets above others who may be more advanced, but it is also a logical one. A slug is worth less than a dog, and a dog is worth less than a human no matter how you slice it. Each plays its role, but one is worth more and one is worth less.

I mention all this because I ripped the head off a chicken on Saturday. With a butcher’s knife. I held its head taut and sliced intently so it would be over quickly, but that did little to prevent the initial blood spurt, the period during which its head and body operated independently, or the final, neverending dissection.

Killing the animal was the scariest part. Dissecting it was the most disturbing. I was standing there, hands in lukewarm water, plucking feathers, watching its head do circles round the sink. This was the same annoying little rooster who’d run through the amaranth garden and woken me at 6am every day. And now I was watching its severed head do circles round the sink.

The reason I chose to do this in the first place when my family asked is that I eat chicken. If I eat chicken, I thought, I have to be able to kill a chicken. As bad and awkward as I felt doing it, I would have felt worse not doing it and continuing to eat chicken all the time in every conceivable form. Now that I’ve done it, I can at least eat without feeling like a hypocrite. And I can eat knowing I’m following evolution: more dominant species feed on less dominant species across the board. Provided you don’t torture or waste the animal, it’s not cruelty, just nature.

The one thing I’m having trouble getting over, though, is the chicken’s skin. When wet, in the sink, it feels exactly like that of a dog or a cat. Which is kind of disturbing because we have a dog and a cat in our yard here that are almost exactly the same size. I know I could get desensitized to killing and skinning chickens. What’s to say I couldn’t get used to doing the same thing to dogs and cats? For now, I know, the hierarchy, but it’s an unsettling line to draw.

Aren't There Copyright Laws on Photos?

http://www.examiner.com/a-188386~Gunmen_Attack_Oaxaca_Student_Radio_Station.html

Esquipulas, a canine representation

Esquipulas, the actual place

Zocalo, a canine representation

Zocalo, the actual place

Don't Wear Any Ruiz Buttons!

As many of you already know, teachers are kind of a big deal in Oaxaca. Their protests have postponed school for 34 days, reduced the ticket price of the popular Guelagetza dance festival from 420 pesos (roughly $42) to $0, reduced tourism by 75%, and may, in the coming weeks, lead to a radical shift in the state government. The teachers' specific school-focused demands have included higher wages, increased construction of schools in remote villages, and free breakfast and uniforms for every child in Oaxaca. The demand that has been getting the most press and seems to be the strongest rallying cry for the teachers, however, is the resignation of Oaxaca Governor Ulisses Ruiz. Among other things, Ruiz has been accused of rigging the state election, murdering his adversaries, and authorizing the June 14 tear gas attacks on protestors. As long as Ulisses stays, the teachers have said, they'll stay. Till the end of this school year and the next.

Luckily, for my parent's sake, all of this is a world away from sleepy Esquipulas. Technically it's only 30 minutes away -- two buses and you're in Zocalo, the site of all of the protests -- but really you couldn't get a more different climate. I'm pretty sure if anyone tried to start a protest here, it would last about a minute and a half. First off, they wouldn’t get mad enough for it: tranquilo's the third word out of everyone's mouth. Even if they did, they’d probably shout something like “We want answers now!” Which wouldn’t lead to much of a protest because the Esquipulan word for “now!” is ahorrita. Which roughly translates to “in the next few minutes to the next few hours to, eh, whenever you get around to it.”

I’ve tried to explain to my parents that Esquipulas and Zocalo are a world away, but being parents, they worry. Stories like these didn’t help matters:

OAXACA, Mexico -- Gunmen attacked Oaxaca's university radio station, authorities said Sunday, the latest incident in a wave of confrontations and protests that have driven many tourists out of this historic Mexican city. Assailants fired rounds of ammunition into the station's windows while it was broadcasting late Saturday, the Oaxaca state government said. Nobody was hurt in the attack. Witnesses said the attack was carried out by at least 10 assailants wearing ski masks. The university radio station has supported a wave of protests aimed at ousting Oaxaca state governor Ulises Ruiz, who is accused of rigging the 2004 election to win office and of violently repressing dissent.

I received this article from my dad, who was obviously concerned. At the bottom of the article, he added a loving message: “Stay out of harms way or I'll kill you.” A few minutes later, he sent another: “Don't wear any Ruiz buttons!!”

Given the seriousness of these directives and the obvious concern my parents had for my personal safety, I sent this photo as my reply.

Piscine Molitor Patel

Every line, every paragraph I read inspires me more. It’s been 60 pages. Nothing has happened. And that hasn’t made a bit of difference.
Like All About Eve, my desire to call people and tell them about it has grown stronger by the minute. Like Freaks and Geeks, I initially worried that there was going to be a letdown – until I realized that, in the long run, there wasn't going to be one. I’m sure I’ll comment more and compile quotes as the book progresses, but for now I’ll just transcribe the opening lines: “My suffering left me sad and gloomy. Academic study and the steady, mindful practice of religion brought me back to life.”

The Symphony From Hell

I’m now going to bed earlier and getting more sleep than I ever have before. 12am to 8am consistently.

Now that I have earplugs.

Before that, there was the symphony from hell: that is, the sound of five chickens, a chicken alarm clock, every dog in the neighbourhood, and a Puff Daddy remix every morning at 6am. I was able to get over Pongo, Perdita, and friends – and the surround sound cockadoodle doos. Diddy, however, I just couldn’t take. Mainly because it wasn’t just him. “I’ll be missin you” would relent after two or three minutes, but immediately following that was “Who Let the Dogs Out,” “Hey Mr. DJ,” and that infernal Six Flags theme song. Don’t get me wrong: I like the geezer with the big ears and the big glasses as much as the next guy, but “dunt dunt dunt dunt dunt da na, dunt dunt dunt dunt dunt da na” can become a little grating on a loop at 6am.

Cosas Chulas Sobre Esquipulas (Awesome Things About Esquipulas)

-- My partner, Henry. We have virtually nothing in common, but get along amazingly well. Probably because he too is a little off.

















-- Bucket bathing. More specifically, the rush you feel when you dump a bucket of water down your whole body. (As opposed to the dull spray you get from a showerhead.)

-- The fascination people have with trabalenguas (tongue twisters). So far I've got down this really long Spanish version of Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers and this native Oaxacan tongue twister, Paranguaricutidimicuaro.

-- The fascination my family has with my corpse-like hands. Each morning, Camilla and Moises take turns poking my palm to watch it turn red, white, and purple. I return the favor by freezing the back of their necks when they least expect it. They call a truce by lighting a match. (My hands often aren't functional enough for me to do it on my own). This match allows me to light the stove, which I rub my hands over until the regain color.

-- The perfect curvature of my cot. Like the Throne of God at William and Mary, it is the rare piece of furniture that is comfortable enough to make you want to read and write forever...without ever making you start to fall asleep.

-- The fact that people think I made a personalized Oaxaca dodgeball t-shirt before I came because my TDX dodgeball t-shirt has a large OAX symbol.

-- Señora Hela's toilet paper. Which boasts that it is "mas suave y mas blanco" (more smooth and more white). I know I wouldn't go near a beige or off-white brand, double-ply or not.

-- Señora Hela's sense of occasion. She puts on a toilet seat when company comes...and takes it off when they leave!

-- The view of the mountains on the way to Tequio. (Tequio is the gorgeous 5k nature preserve my parter, Henry, and I walk/run through 2/3 times a week). People had said beforehand that Oaxaca was beautiful, but I thought that meant that kind of politically correct beauty -- the kind that has a person enter a slum in Detroit and marvel at the intricate graffiti patterns and well-sorted trash heaps. (Detroit is the poorest city in the US; Oaxaca is the second poorest city in Mexico). I thought these people were patronizing Oaxacan inhabitants, misrepresenting where they lived in order to be 'culturally sensitive.'

As it turned out, their representation was
entirely accurate. All of the neighborhoods I've seen are incredibly colorful and those that surround the mountains have a remarkable view. The view as you approach Tequio is particularly good because you see houses and shops of every hand-painted color and design on either side of you -- and verdant, towering mountains in front of you. All of the paths inside Tequio are green, and many are lined with purple, orange, and red flowers.















If I'm being fair, there is a fair amount of litter on most streets, and certain areas have an unpleasant odor, but overall, it would not be condescending to describe the area as attractive.

-- Having to think about what it'll be like back in the US when the bread isn't coated with sugar (Pan Dulce).
-- Having to wait a full week until my supervisor comes to have crunchy tostadas soaked in a warm tomato puree (Chili Quile).

-- Learning to like coffee. Liking carne de res clayudas immediately.

-- The way you can like any possible food you're given. If you're not a huge fan, just envelop it in a tortilla and you can barely taste the difference.

Camilla (mi hermana) y La Perrita

Moises y Jonathan, Mis Hermanos

The First Class

The People

I haven't met an inconsiderate person yet. Everyone greets us warmly, pays no attention to our limited speaking ability, offers us more food than they have, and are generally just good hosts. One of the best things about Amigos is that we get to meet a large of number of these people through a rotating meal schedule. That is, after the first week of eating just with our families, we eat every lunch and most dinners with other families in the community. Most of the families we eat with also have students in our class, so it really helps us and them believe in what we're teaching.

It's definitely not all school stuff, though -- most of it's a cultural exchange. I, for example, show them Spoons. Or, cucharas, as it will forever be known here. (One particularly zealous little girl dove across the table to grab one out of my hands -- which is ironic, because she's one of the shiest students in the class and needs me to hold hers through nearly every lesson.) They, in turn, show me chile. Many types of hot chile. One particular chile, chile pequine, so scalded my tongue that I couldn't really taste anything the rest of the meal.

More about the people and my gringo tongue later. For now, adios.

The Community-Based Initiative

Our original CBI was a local culture film festival that the town could attend -- complete with popcorn, red tape, and three films that their very own techies had created. This sounds good because of the marketing -- especially with some Aztec/Zapotec red meat thrown in there.

In reality, it would be an agreeable stunt. Video editing is not an essential skill. And you're not going to get people to continue it after you leave.

Consequently, (as of now), we've decided on a three-part CBI: (1) Continue holding English/computer classes for kids and teens at the Agencia. Also hold classes for the mothers of Ninos Unidos, who will be able to train their 200 students when we leave. (2) Hold an amaranth cooking/planting class for mothers in the area every other week. (3) Facilitate those classes by building a half-lawn amaranth garden. In order to build that garden, we will have to manually shovel out half of the lawn. Something I ironically did at my own house TWO DAYS before I left!

The Project

So they told us we would use digital technologies to preserve local cultures. Sounds impressive, right? And culturally sensitive? Turns out no one cared. As numerous people in the town pointed out, you can show someone how to create a blog and use a camera/videocamera in three days -- then what? If your town could care less about documenting obscurities -- or about luring American tourists to see them -- you´re kind of stuck. So you reorient yourself.

Which we did. The main thing the town wanted was English classes. English, English, English. We were hardly ESL experts, but we designed an introductory lesson which incorporated English and computer basics. First the kids chose their favorite thing in the world. Then they chose ten things related to that thing. Then they wrote a story incorporating those ten things. And finally, they found out the definitions and pronunciations of those words in English and incorporated them in a revised version of the story in Microsoft Word. This worked well, engaging the kids in both competencies. It did not, however, directly target either. To do that, we needed to defer to the experts. We needed to stop teaching and start facilitating.

Mavis Beacon and Lowa ESL Learner were the answers. Typing may not be as flashy as blogs, digital cameras, or the internet, but it an essential computer skill. Once you know how to work the mouse and make your way around, you need to know how to touch type to move on. Mavis Beacon´s top-flight games, tips, and setup is the best way to give them that leg-up. Lowa ESL Learner´s top-flight games, tips, and setup serves the same basic purpose: giving Esquipulas students skills they can use for years to come.