more old stuff from Tlaxcala part 1

Hola a todos y todas!

I am here Toluca De Guadalupe writing you from my little desk at my host families house! When we arrived here in this town of 2,500 we were met with a huge delicious meal of camarones soup, tortillas, pineapple juice, beans, and veggies. Our program head Tom said that the best food in Mexico is here in this town and we are all going to gain weight. Afterwards we picked our host families mostly at random. I was placed with a wonderful woman called Guadalupe (called Lupe) Morena who is the only woman in town with blond hair (not a natural blond). She and her seven year old daughter Ali sleep in a two room house but spend most of their time at her parents house.
Being a host kid here is really exciting, wonderful, and strange. Her entire house was changed up so I sleep in a huge bed in a large room that also has the kitchen in it and is connected to the bathroom. She and her daughter sleep in another little room off the to side. The house is made of cement and tile with no running water but good electricity. The bathroom is simply a toilet that you put water into to flush and a shower head. I can either shower at her house by washing myself with a bucket of cold water or wash at her mothers house who has a shed/bathroom/shower with running water that needs to be heated for about twenty minutes before going in. The water pressure is amazing and taking having warm water in any form is pretty damn nice. I feel pretty bad kicking the Lupe out of her bed and taking up her kitchen, though she doesn't really use it and we take all our meals at her mothers house.
The pueblo is tiny and in the country with only two paved roads. The landscape is very dry with a huge volcano called Malinche that I can see in the distance wherever I am. The weather is perfectly comfortable, warm enough not to wear a sweater during the day and comfortably cool at night. Lupe's house is on land she shares with three of her uncles and the rest of her close family lives nearby. She also has a son that lives at her parents house, a three year old cutie named Gonzalo who doesn't speak very well because he got very sick when he was little. It seems Lupe has had a lot of hard times in her life. One of her sons died as did her brother only four years ago. I don't know where her husband is but he doesn't seem to be around. However her family is incredibly sweet and they all live within three minutes walking distance which she told me is much more important that riches. So true.
The family treats me like an alien baby. Lupe and her daughter Ali stand outside with me while I brush my teeth before bed (I think they think I might be afraid of the dark or something) and Lupe walks me to school which is about three minutes away and easy to find. No one in the family will let me wash my dishes because “the cold water might make me sick” (on my hands?!?) and Lupe's sister was so worried when I said I wasn't going to blow dry my hair after taking a shower that she sat me down and blow dried it for me. My first day there a troupe of kids came in and out of my room to stare at me. One girl asked me, “are you a gringa?” to which I replied, “what do you think?”. She nodded enthusiastically. One thirteen year old girl didn't want to make conversation with me, just stare and smile. I understood why but it also was a little uncomfortable.
The family itself are really close and very nice. All the other kids are getting huge rich meals at their houses, bu my meals have been really simple and cheap like a slab or thin fried chicken and soup out of the can or tortillas with rice and egg. While I am a little jealous of the three course breakfasts some of the kids are getting, I am happy that my host family are not going out of their way to make me my own personal meal. I don't know if its because my host family has a little less money, they don't want to do the extra work (understandably!), or because I am the first exchange student they have ever had (all the other families have had at least two other host kids in the past). Either way its better for my health and makes me more comfortable. I'm pretty sure my family has less money than other host families because they don't have many of the luxuries, like a DVD player, several rooms, nice tiles, and other stuff that wealthier families have.
One food I absolutely don't like is a beverage called atole that is a thick corn drink the consistency of porridge served hot with pineapple flavor and LOTS of sugar. Tom described it as a cup of lots of empty calories. It seems like something you would feed someone who needed fattening up. I have had two cups of it so far in a few hours and don't think I can or want to eat more. It's very filling and much too sweet for my taste.
One beverage I love is fresh cows milk (fresh fresh from the udders that morning) served hot with a little sugar. Also filling but much more to my taste. They told me this weekend they will teach me to milk a cow, make tortillas, and how to chicken a la coca cola (ehhhhhh).
I am really glad about the family I picked to be my host family. Everyone is very kind and patient when I speak Spanish (which I improving already)! Gonzalo likes me so much that he cried and gets mad every time I leave the grandparents house. Lupe is wonderful to talk to and we have already had a few good conversations about what it means to be a woman, culture in cities versus the country, and the importance of family. She is very honest, smart, and kind. She is genuinely interested in taking care of me and making sure I am comfortable, which is a new feeling to have on this trip but also very nice. Her daughter Ali is hyper and likes to practice typing on my computer. Gonzalo is really cute and he likes me so much apparently he spends all day asking for “Marley” (actually the whole family calls me “Marley”, which is fine by me) and made me lie next to him when he was falling asleep.I am looking forward to getting to know the grandmother better. She has been teaching to cook these potato knish type things and the aunt talks to me a lot about her life, how Mexican fruits and veggies are the best in the world, and is planning to teach me to dance Cumbia and other dances typical of Mexico. Some of the uncles asked me to do an English class so tomorrow night I am going to try to put something together. They are also encouraging me to skip out on a class I have Sunday to go to a party with them in another Pueblo. The entire family strikes me as very smart, open, and kind but also with a good sense of humor. Compared to other kids who are mostly left alone or just watch TV with their families, my host family seems interested in talking to me. It has been really helping my Spanish and I feel like I am learning a mile a minute here.
The reason we are in this town is to learn more about an organization called CENUC. I'm not sure what it stands for or exactly what it does. I know it has something do to with campesino rights and womens rights. There are eighteen members of the organization, 17 of them women (this is in this branch, in other branches there are thousands apparently). Tom told us that any woman who has been married in this town has probably been beaten at least once by her husband, which really puts in perspective the macho culture and also comes in and out of my mind when I am interacting with the people in the town.
Tom also told us about one of the host families where the father was extremely macho and got drunk a lot and beat his wife. The first time this host family had a kid in their house the father came home drunk one night and put the moves on her. She then basically told him to screw off and the interaction the student had telling off the father and also the conversations with the mother (the student expressed how shocked she was by the family dynamic) changed the whole culture of the family. Since that host student the father has stopped beating his wife and the gender dynamic in the house has changed a lot. Tom told us the presence of independent American women has been good in this town. Unlike being with Zapatistas or indigenous people in general where the men seem generally less macho, the gender relations here are really different. Also, a note, the people here are mestizaje, or of mixed heritage but I do not think would identify as indigenous, though there are vestiges of indigenous culture such as a Temascal (sweatlodge) at the community center.
Another cute story about a host kid was this punk girl who met the only punk kid who lived in Toluca. They really liked each other, ended up dating later, and are now getting married. Que cute!
I am looking forward to learning more about CENUC and the political movement going on here. I do know CENUC is part of La Otra Compana that was started by the EZLN . I will be in Toluca de Guadalupe for three weeks and I think they will be a wonderful three weeks. My letters are much longer now because I am writing them on my computer, then putting them on a USB drive to bring to an internet cafe.

Right now Ali is looking over my shoulder as I write, she likes watching me while I'm on the computer.

More later. Much love and best wishes,

Marlena

Fuck i havent posted in so long. old shiiiit from spring break.

Dear Everyone,

My vacation week was very interesting. First me and two girls who go to Hampshire College (one originally from Chicago, the other from MA) took a twelve hour bus ride from San Cristobal to Puerto Escondido, a surfer tourist town on the coast. It was a bit of an insane trip. We rushed from the Women's Festival in Oventic to a forty-five minute bus ride through the mountains to San Cris. The local buses here aren't like in the states, they are actually just big vans called Combis that you pay around eight pesos (less than 60 cents) to ride just about anywhere within an hour distance. The combi we took was jam packed and we rushed at a crazy speed along the mountains, passing trucks full of horses and little cars. In San Cris. We had little less than two hours to get on the main bus to Puerto Escondido in which was did some shopping for food for the ride and a quick stop in an internet cafe.
The twelve hour bus ride was mostly uneventful. The tour book said the movies on these buses are terrible and they were right. We started with a cheesey film called “Conversations with God” and it went downhill from there. The bus we took was first class (theres a class above first which was more expensive). We considered taking a second class bus but it takes longer to get there because they can't pay for tolls for the main highways and are also at greater risk of being held up and robbed. The bus we were on was stopped and searched several times by the military and la migra (immigration). The only person they actually harassed was, uncoincidentally, the only indigenous guy on the bus.
Puerto Escondido had a beautiful beach with rough waves and great food. Still, it was incredibly strange going from Oventic with the simple way of living, less technology, and a certain communal and political way of looking at the world to a rather touristy little town on the beach. It was strange and I was constantly plagued by feelings of homesickness for Oventic and the experience I was having there. Still, having a hot shower, good meals (Chiapas is known for bad food especially at restaurants), and a real bed to sleep on was very relaxing.
After a few days there we met up with two more friends and took a fun two hour bus ride to a tiny town on the coast of Oaxaca called Mazunte (one thing I love about Mexico is that the bus driver always leaves the door open and theres lots of loud music going over the speakers! Also for 20 pesos, which is less than $1.60 you can go anywhere within five hours). If anyone is looking for a beach vacation in a relaxing, hidden town with good food and amazing beach, Mazunte is your place. The town is itsy-bitsy with one main road and no ATMs or big stores. It mainly relies on tourism but the tourists there are generally not American and more “alternative” hippie-ish types. The people there are extremely friendly (we went to a bigger town nearby and got a lot of help from different local people finding the cheapest ride home) and the beach is clean. There is also tons of sea life. Mazunte is the “sea turtle capital of Mexico” but there are also dolphins, whales, tons of (tasty) fish, and sting rays. We stayed in a little cabana on a hill overlooking the sea and could watch see whales from there.
Our hostel is owned by an eccentric couple from Argentina. Apparently the husband was a guerilla fighter for two years in Guatemala and ended up settling on the beach away from the rest of the world. They seemed very spiritual, hippie-ish, and anti-capitalist. They prepared meals from a little open air kitchen right next to our tables that made us feel like we were in someones home (incidentally the food tasted exactly like something Pai (Carlos) would make...I would recommend he go to this place the most out of anyone I know). We did a sweatlodge or “temascal” while we were there with the owner of the cabana. Temascal is very traditional in Mexico, apparently in parts of Mexico some indigenous used it as a way of cleaning instead of just bathing in water. However this one was rather new-agey and very different from sweat lodges I have done in the Lakota tradition, but cleansing and good nonetheless. He had a lot of herbs that he put in with the water so we all felt like we were being steamed in a cup of chamomile tea. Wonderful.
While we were there we met up with four more friends, three from our program and one cool socialist from Switzerland we had met at the Escuela de Lenguas in Oventic. He was a really cool, funny guy and we were all sad to say goodbye to him when we left. He is traveling for a year in the Americas and said he would visit us in NYC when he makes it up to the states. After a few days there all of us (there were now six) took an eighteen hour bus ride from Mazunte to Mexico City. This was also uneventful except for a moment when me and another girl were searched by the military at four in the morning. We pretended we only spoke English as our program head had advised us. After we arrived in Mexico city we met up with everyone else from our program and headed to Toluca De Guadalupe in Tlaxcala. And here we began a whole new set of adventures....

More later. Much love!

Marlena

ek do teen 1-2-3

Weeks Spent in India: 10
Songs learned on guitar: 8
Henna Tattoos: 2
Trips to cocoberry: countless

It's been a while--but I think I have the head space where a somewhat linear progression is possible...

After settling in a bit post-McLeod Ganj/Dali Lama, I began paying retribution to the couchsurfing community (unofficially). The three Californians I met in the mountains came to stay with me for about a week (Yoshi, Denali and Gina)--had a really great time playing guitar and running around the city. They came with me to the orphanage where we did the hokey pokey, painted nails and colored on the walls. Those kids are adorable but jesus they are exhausting. It was really nice to have people there besides just myself and Heather (the Canadian woman I usually go with)--there are around 50 kids, and two people is simply not enough to orchestrate anything highly educational. Red light green light was a challenge (apparently red and green sound exactly the same). Really wonderful week--it was nice having so many people in our flat (especially since we had an extra room while looking for a third) and they were amazing guests.
Shortly after, Disha came to stay with us--a Norwegian artist who is currently living in Goa. She found Flavien, my flat mate, on couchsurfing.com and we tried to learn Hindi script together, draw ducks and talked about piercings. Very cool guest.
After Disha left, we found two new flat mates, Kelley and Taylor. They are Dartmouth alum working on a business to ensure the authenticity of pharmaceuticals in developing nations. Apparently that is an extremely large problem here and in Africa--counterfeit drugs are being sold in most seemingly legitimate chemist shops and hospitals. Yikes.
They brought an unofficial couchsurfer with them, Sophie, a Swiss medical student who stayed with us for a couple of days. She and I went to India Gate, Parliament, and Jangpath Market last weekend, which was really lovely. However, while I was waiting for her at India Gate--I caused a bit of a scene (unintentionally, of course). I was wearing a skirt of moderate length (three inches above the knee?), but the wind caused the skirt to constantly blow around, meaning I had to find a post to lean against and keep my hands at my sides. Around twenty different (not exaggerating) men came up asking to take pictures with me. One group asked if I was a prostitute. Oh, India. We ate dinner at a place called Sancho's--one of three Mexican restaurants in probably all of India. The food was good for fake Mexican--but I miss me some authentic tacos and Sonia's (oh Winder, how could I ever really speak ill of thee?).
Somewhere in there my friend Brent from McLeod Ganj came to crash for a night. He's very into new age medicine and psychology and brought his singing bowls with him. If you've never experienced this, it's pretty relaxing. It supposedly opens your chakras--very granola.

So basically, we've just been running a free hostel for a while, which I love because I'm much happier living with larger groups (i.e. watermargin).

Speaking of Watermargin--AVTAR is here! I had dinner with him the other night. He's visiting family and researching for his company--we are actually both going to be in Amritsar this weekend visiting a very important site for Sikhs: The Golden Temple. For those of you who don't know--he's coming back to do his master's next year, so he'll be at the house again : ] We talked about coding and Sikhisms and about the five k's:
Kesh (uncut hair)
Kanga (wooden comb)
Kaccha (specially designed underwear)
Kara (iron bracelet)
Kirpan (strapped sword).
A Sikh man has to have these on him at all times. Muy intersante, no? I saw a man on the metro with a large knife on his belt and I looked around with my "Oh my GOD! Do you see that?!" face, but no one else was surprised. What the hell is the point of security if that guy can bring a knife? Cultural sensitivity; Unity in Diversity!

Amritsar is near the border of Pakistan. I actually had this elaborate plan to go to Amritsar on Thursday night (we have off for Good Friday--random?), see the Golden Temple during the day on Friday, go to the border for the changing of the guards ceremony at night, then cross the border on foot and stay in Lahore, Pakistan for one night. HOWEVER--this morning, Kelley and I found out that this might be more trouble than its worth. We woke up around 7:30am to get to the High Commission of Pakistan by 8:30 when it opens. We had to wait until 9 for anyone to see us, and once they did, we found out that it would cost $120 to get the visa, and we also had to get a letter of permission from the US Embassy. So we crossed the street, deposited our cell phones, and went inside the US Embassy, where they tried to charge us $30 for a letter. Basically, screw that--$150 is more than I can afford for one day in Pakistan. (Dear family. stop. am broke. stop. please send rupees. stop. love you. stop). PS-The US Embassy didn't even have a place to eat! Psha.

I've been discussing my upcoming travels with Andy (British graphic novel editor I almost lived with) and he brought to my attention that I only have five weekends left! With this Amritsar trip, that leaves four weekends. With Varanasi and Kerala, that leaves two weekends in Delhi. Essentially, I am cramming as much as possible into the next few weeks and trying to wrap up my paper on the legal, economic and social status of women in India. I've narrowed down the anecdotes and supporting evidence--I just need to set aside a day or two and finish the connections.

In other news, I'm getting pretty good with Hindi. Very basic, but the script is only second to Arabic in terms of aesthetics.

Marlena and Dylan--you're up.

Love and peace,
E.


PS-If I sent you a letter, let me know when you get it? Mail is unpredictable and I want to make sure that the majority of my correspondence was not done in vain.

puffy white whisp of a cloud: the sky hog

holy hell its been a month. i find it hard to force myself to sit down and be diligent about writing when the sun in shining shining and there's so much to do.

i uploaded some shots a while ago of my trip to taranaki - it was a good time. i stayed at the taranaki environment centre and worked alongside graham and val for a week. it was really relaxing, and nice to get some last minute chill time before my classes started. oh yeah, if you've seen the pictures then you'll know what im talking about, but there was this ridiculous festival called AmeriCARna. you can only imagine what sorts of fun that was. felt like i walked down the street in inglewood, took a wrong turn, and somehow ended up in upstate new york. there were vintage cars, rural NZ cover bands playing classic american radio tunes, and plenty of 'authentic american hot dogs and hamburgers' to boot. what a deal. i tried my best to keep from laughing.

then classes started as soon as i got back to wellington. the courseload works a little differently here, so im only taking three: gender & development, maori society and culture, and an education course called 'youth and life challenges.' theyre all pretty fascinating. the maori course, which im taking to fulfill a cornell requirement, is interesting enough, but just jam-packed with too many americans. luckily, all of my professors are really dynamic and most of the students are engaged in discussions etc. we've been talking about some pretty meaty issues in both my education and gender courses, but there's not quite as much fire as you'd see back home. one thing ive found upon living here for a while now is that the political discussions are really lacking. as in, most of the time quite nonexistent. the kiwi political scheme isn't too fascinating and the government hasn't pumped billions of dollars into a war machine, so i guess there isn't that much to get all fired up about. what a drag. but no really, my friends and i try to squeeze war, politics, radical rebellion, etc. into the casual bar talk and it just doesn't work. before you know it you're back to classic film noir, catchy lines from arrested development, and recounts of the last time wren was completely pished. so it goes.

last weekend i was lucky enough to have a little getaway. my friend gabi and i rode out to wanganui, about three hours away. we camped out right next to the wanganui river for a couple days and watched as the reflections of shooting stars shot back and forth along the slow flow of the midnight water. we chilled out with some ducks, gorged on banana bread until we could no more, and sat with our backs against an enormous, receding cliff, watching the sun set on our own private beach. rutabega bay was what we decided it should probably be named. it was our bay, after all. we could look in both directions all the way to the horizon without catching sight of another wanderer.

since school started, weekend trips to rutageba bay included, all has been well. ive managed to find a great group of other crazy international students and we seem to manage to have a good time every day. we've been exploring wellington and there's just so much here. i went on a bike ride yesterday, and although the winds whipping through the strait were a little tumultuous, i got to see so much of the city that i didn't even know existed.

i also made it to the bike co-op last night. i tried to go last week but my friend graham hadn't opened up shop yet. its a lot like home - the place is run out of the back room in the anarchist collective downtown. the house reminds me so much of watermargin; sights, smells, and all. packed from head to toe with posters and flyers of rallies in days gone by, books of revolt, and other such treasures. they have a free radical library open to the public and put out delicious bread and veggies that they liberate from wasteful dumpsters for the needy grabs of passersby. are you taking notes?

in our drunken midnight rambling explorations of the rolling wellington hills, we've managed to locate a couple worthwhile, exciting sanctuaries (aka playgrounds). like, make-you-jealous-that-your-childhood-wasn't-so-divinely-priviledged-with-such-amazing-structures type playgrounds. and yes, of course, with 100 ft long ziplines included. fantastic.

hmm i cant think of what other fruitful endeavors we've had. oh, did i mention that we're going to samoa? yeah, we've got a two week long mid-semester break in two weeks. original plan was the hot, golden (and now ablazen) aussie coast. but it's so damned expensive. so instead we're flying out into the middle of the pacific. honestly, do you know where samoa is? google it, please. its roughly the size of rhode island. except its actually an island. we've rented two thatched-roof huts on the lonely beach, staying for a week. woohoo.

alas, the sun is shining shining and there are no clouds in the sky. well actually, there's this one tiny little whisp of a cloud over there. that bastard, how dare he. pollute my nice blue sky with his puffy, white, puffiness. anyway, im tired of staring at this screen. im going to go on a little trip. be back in my head tomorrow. photos will follow.

but while you're waiting, enjoy these: http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/ExplorationsInSunlightAndOtherThings#

Chiapas Chronicles #6

Hi Everyone,

I hope you are all doing well. It´s been awhile and there is so much to say! I am on an internet cafe so I might not be able to finish everything I want to say! I also won´t be able to attach any photos for probably about three weeks since I wont have internet access. I am thinking of doing a slide show of all my pictures, serving some food i learned to make, and telling more about my experiences when i get back if that is something people are interested in.

The week of March 2nd was my last week in Chiapas and also my 21st birthday. On the Saturday before I was in San Cristobal with all my friends at the MSN house there. They bought me a pinata as a surprise and a cake. Then we all went out for fun! It was great, a little sad to be so far away from close family and friends, but also a lot of fun. There was none of the typical 21st birthday crazyness because it is already legal for me to drink here, but that was actually pretty nice. I will send more pictures of the pinata, which looks a little bit like me. Apparently when my friends were carrying it back to the MSN house it was the only time traffic stopped to let pedestrains go by and everyone kept screaming at them, "oye! wheres the party???".

The last week at Oventic was wonderful but also very emotional. A friend bought doenuts for me on my actual Birthday (which was a monday) and we shared them with some of the little kids there. After that the kids followed me around everywhere telling me how much they LOVED my birthday and asking me if i had anymore sweets. They knew i had a huge bag of candy from the pinata in my room but i couldnt let them have as much as they want because in Zapatista communities giving indvidual gifts, even a lot fo candy to a small group of kids, is frowned upon. Also, when they even have a sip of cola they get insanely hyper so i cant imagine what all that candy could have done. I ended up giving out the big bag of candy at a party we had later (ill explain below).

The kids overall though are really amazing at Oventic. They are incredibly independent and seem to have very few hang ups. They share well and dont seem to fight much. One girl, Esther, who has grown up in Oventic was saying how she wanted to learn guitar. A girl on our program asked Esther if she would like a little guitar for her to practice on (we had bought one as a going away present for the whole community). She said she didnt want for herself but if she could share one with everyone, that would be nice. Seeing these kids grow up like this, in a big community constantly surrounded by other kids and being really independent, really makes me think about what i want for my kids when i have them someday.

Some interesting things from the week. There are always young people coming in and out of Oventic and our last week there there was a guy from the Landless Movement (MST) from Brazil. It was really cool to talk to him about whats going on in Brazil and if i ever want to go there and study with MST i know someone who can hook me up with contacts. This week we also sang a song about abortion and how it is womans right to chose for herself if she wants a baby. Cool!

On the thursday before we left my program made a big feast and got a band for the whole community. We spend the entire day chopping vegatables and meat (beef and chicken). In the end we had a huge feast with everyone with lots of meat stew. I ate the chicken one which was pretty good, with huge chunks of chicken, cabbage, calabacitas, potatoe, and other veggies. We ate it with choppèd chili, tomato, and onion with slices of lime, tortillas, and hibiscus juice. YUM! everyone there liked it a lot because meat is really rare for people to eat there.

The weekend before i left, on Saturday, we celebrated International Women´s Day at Oventic. I woke up on Saturday to the sounds of tons of people everywhere! Mostly Zapatistas but some Mexicans and internationals were there, many actually camping overnight in Oventic. The feeling in the air was like a music festival, with stalls of delicious tamales and corn and people selling thier wares. There was a big speech by women, all in ski masks and bandanas covering thier faces. Then began a day for sports events (soccer, basketball, and volleyball), cultural events (poetry readings, music, ect,), and political events (speeches). of course only the women are allowed to participate in activities, while men can watch and cook, clean, and take care of the kids. I wanted to be on a soccer team, but didnt have time because i had to leave on a bus from San Cristobal later that day. The referees at the games were all women and all very good referees! It was impressive to see. The security at this festival was all Zapatista military, who are the best security people ever! They all wore ski masks (men and women but only men were doing security because only men are allowed to work on that day!). They were very relaxed and nonconfrontational, while also maintaining an attitude of seriousness.

Leaving Oventic that day was extremely emotional for me. I looked out across the festival, with all the amazing women, bands of kids, the food, the beautiful mountains. I know I would like to go there some day but I know if would be for my own personal experience because there is nothing the Zapatistas need from me! Staying there has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. The people and thier amazing spirit, thier struggle, thier strength, and thier history have all been great gifts for me to see. It brought tears to my eyes when we sang one of the songs for the last time "lindo oventik"
ya yo no puedo vivir fuera de oventik
porque lo que mi me gusta es construir
no me voy fuera de aqui
siempre listo a resistir
y si el mal gobierno nos quiere destruir
haremos en todos partes mas oventiks
oventiks mas oventiks
siempre muchos oventiks

I dont know if i can express in words how magical, how revolutionary, how just, how powerful, and how beautiful Oventik is. All i can say is that I would encourage everyone to learn more about the Zapatistas and thier struggle, because is it a powerful one and full of deep love for community and the world. I want to write more but my time at this internet cafe is running out (or at least my pesos are!). I will try to write back soon about my experience on spring break and being here Tlaxcala with my host family. Very different, very cool!

much love, Marlena

Tiger Reserves and the Wheel of Dharma

This is going to be long. Profuse apologies.

I think around three weekends ago, Flavien (my roommate), Shayoni, Siddarth and I went to Corbett Tiger Reserve. Corbett is around six hours from Delhi, but we ended up getting stuck in a jam Friday night, and spending the night in the car on the side of the road, finishing our trip around 7am the next morning. We ate paranthas stuffed with alu (potato), gobbhi (cauliflower) and eggs (don't know the Hindi word) with some yogurt and drank coca cola from glass bottles.
Siddarth had arranged for us to stay in a cabin in the middle of the jungle, which was a really great idea. Most of the hotels were on the edge of the park along the river, which was pleasant but also very commercialized. We loaded up an open air jeep and drove about twenty kilometers into the middle of the forest. Along the way, there were elephants, monkeys, deer and wart hogs. The room was in the middle of a fielded clearing with a panoramic view of the mountain range and the surrounding trees. Five guys stayed in house next to us and helped cook us amazing meals and drive us around on jeep safaris. We never saw Tigers, but it was still worth the trip.
There was a beautiful temple about five kilometers from our place, and it was covered in vines and flowers and large tropical plants which only confirmed my "Little Princess" conceptions of the Indian jungles. A moat filled with rainwater edged around each stone monument and landing, circling around to the middle of the temple where a cascading waterfall provided holy water to cleanse one's body before prayer.
On our last day, we decided to check out and go to Nainital to see the lakes at the top of these amazing mountains. To get there, we had to drive about an hour up winding roads through the range, ending up in the city at night fall. The lake was bordered with shops, restaurants and temples, all lit up in bright colors and highlighted by the full moon above. We found a candle shop, which apparently Nainital is well know for, and bought super kitschy candles for our apartment and friends. They had a picachu candle which I was unable to resist for 50 rupees (about a dollar). My camera had died at this point, so theres no pictures of Nainital, but you should really google it because its absolutely enamouring.

The following week I organized some more site visits and finished up some more ILO editing for my supervisor. I was able to fit in some dinners and drinks with some friends, attend a wedding, and make a last minute decision to go to Dharamsala.

I was looking for courses or lectures on Buddhism in Delhi, when I came across Tushita's website. Tushita is a semi-monastic community in the hills of McLeod Ganj which offers courses on many aspects of Buddhism, especially catering to westerners. McLeod Ganj is the seat of the Tibetan Government in Exile and His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I chose to take a nine day residential course on basic Mahayana Buddhism and meditation. Venerable Tenzin Chogkyi, a nun from California, ran the course with unrivaled enthusiasm and patience. Even if you don't buy into the karma-rebirth notion, you have to admit that those nuns and monks seem pretty happy...We were in complete silence outside of the class room--which really helped to keep us focused on the Dharma (teachings of Buddha). I'm by no means ready to take refuge or anything, but the Buddhist perspectives on compassion and actual love are quite compelling. I think I walked away from the experience with a greater idea on how to help my family, which was my main reason in going anyway.
Outside of class, Tushita was a peaceful place to just exist. We were surrounded by pine trees and views of the lower city, with snow-capped mountains towering above us. Monkeys were everywhere and made it really difficult to concentrate. The food consisted of bread with home made peanut butter and honey, baby bananas, clear-broth vegetable soups with cabbage, a form of kale, red beans, carrots and spinach. Dinner usually consisted of the bread, some sort of vegetable dish and tofu which always tasted like cigarettes. On the next to last day, I was ecstatic to see what I thought was paneer (cottage cheese, basically) in a yellow curry sauce, and took way more than necessary with my brown rice. One bite in, I was disappointed to learn that it was cigarette tofu and sweet cinnamon sauce. I couldn't waste it, so I ended up eating that, and returning to the table to find something I could cover the horrible taste with. I thought I saw spicy curry ginger soup (like the Thai soup) with carrots and potatoes, so I put that on top of my left over rice. I quickly discovered that the Thai soup was actually sweet cream, mangoes and oranges.
An annoying lesson in impermanence and mindfulness.


When the course was over, I found a guest house in Dharamkot with a group of three travelers I had met--Yoshi, Denali and Gina, all from California. They had been traveling literally everywhere in Asia, and were really great company. We hung around McLeod Ganj and ran into other friends from Tushita, watched a candle light procession of monks, nuns and laypeople on the 10th which was the 50th anniversary of the Tibetan Uprising. Most of my class mates stuck around to hear His Holiness the Dalai Lama on the 11th speak at his temple in McLeod Ganj. We had to buy little radios and find the translation channel, as he spoke in Tibetan. At the beginning of the ceremony, there was deep tonal chanting from the monks at the front of the temple. It sounded quite ominous, to be honest. Something you might here at the pivotal moment in a horror film or Eyes Wide Shut. The Dalai Lama used a lot of metaphors and anecdotes, including one where people are eating shit? Not really sure where he was going with that one...still, quite an inspirational person. Just looking at him you can tell he's genuinely happy--impervious to attachment, anger, or jealousy. At one point in the talk he asked "Where are the Mongolians?" And after a while, a small group at the back waved their hands. He then said, "You cannot understand me because there is no Mongolian translator, but welcome to you anyway." Great sense of humor.
After the talk, I wandered around a while, playing in the streets with the few Indians celebrating Holi--we were covered in yellow, green and pink paint by the end of the day. Around 6, I loaded up my pack with dried mango, home made chocolate, granola bars and raisins and jumped on the bus to Delhi. I mistakenly sat in front of some Japanese (I think) tourist who kept talking to each other rather loudly and laughing hysterically every fifth word. They kept asking each other, "Are you strong?" I have no idea what they were talking about, I thought they maybe meant drunk...but later context clues disproved this theory.
The bus broke down two hours later on the side of a mountain. John Lee was right when he told me that it hasn't really been an adventure until you are riding in a shaky bus on the edge of a cliff. We waited about an hour, and another bus came. This was fine, until about five hours later when the bus halted in the middle of a really bizarre city, where we were instructed to switch buses once more for Delhi. The next bus was completely packed and some Nepali woman kept tapping my shoulder and telling me to put my seat up, which made it nearly impossible to sleep...I'm sticking to the train from now on, if I can help it.

I'm back in Delhi now, and will probably stay put for a while. I think I need some time to decompress.

Chiapas Chonicle #5....

Hi All,

This week at Oventik has been really fun and full of breakthroughs. I am going to send another email about it if people are interested in learning more, but suffice to say that I feel I am learning so much politically and feel extremely inspired.

This week we talked a lot of the paramilitary groups in the area and their effect on the Zapatista and indigenous communities. To begin with, one third of the Mexican Army is currently in Mexico. In addition to these “official troops” there are also a large number of paramilitary groups, including one that is ironically called “Paz y Justicia”. These troops are able to carry out violence against indigenous communities without being “officially” tied to the Mexican government, who can call the violence “intertribal” or “regional” conflicts. These paramilitaries, despite being indipendent from the Mexican government, constantly have new training and tactics much of it probably stemming from trainings by the USA for the “War on Drugs” and from the school of the Americas. There have been numerous deaths of indigenous people at the hands of the military, the most famous being the Acteal massacre of 1997 that resulted in the death of almost fifty people mostly women and children. These people were not Zapatista but part of a PACIFIST group called Las Abejas. The victims were gunned down as they worshiped in church within hearing distance of the Mexican military that actually watched as the paramilitary group marched past them about two kilometers to carry out the massacre. At least five of the women who were killed were pregnant and their bodies were mutilated as survivors could hear them laughing about, “killing the seed”. This was a way of scaring other organized indigenous groups from working with the Zapatistas in any form. After the massacre, many of the members of Las Abejas actually became Zapatistas and were radicalized not just by the horrific experience, but the reaction of the Mexican government that has not brought one of the perpetrators to justice. One of the reasons it happened in Acteal was because the elected head of the municipality is actually the head of the paramilitary group.

The paramilitaries continue to intimidate and kill indigenous people and push them off their land. There have been many confrontations with the military by indigenous groups, including women and children literally forming a circle around their community and pushing away fully armed soldiers with their hands. There are a lot of great films about Zapatismo put out by Paper Tiger Television (http://papertiger.org/) and Big Noise Tactical (http://www.bignoisefilms.com/films/features/89-fourth-world-war).

Despite all these terrible murders and assaults, the Zapatistas are absolutely against acting out in vengeance and personal anger. There have been no violent actions against paramilitaries by Zapatistas because they are disciplined and smart enough to realize that being provoked into violence by these paramilitaries would be an excuse for the Mexican government to come in and wipe them off the map.

This weekend we went to a refugee Zapatista community called Polho that currently has about 5,000 refugees living there but at one time had up to 7,000. These are refugees who have been forced off their land by the paramilitaries and cannot return for if they even venture close to gather firewood they are threatened by the paramilitary group in the area. The community of Polho used to be just another Zapatista community but opened up to accept all the refugees (or “displacidos”) who began pouring in around 1995. The community has a school, stores, and cooperatives among other things.

We had information session with a few local officials and then climbed up a large hill (very very steep) to see the view from the highest place in the community. There were several houses up there made of wood and tin and families putting out their laundry and turning their coffee to dry (this is very good coffee growing country and many displaced communities lost rich soil to farm coffee that has been a good produce for them to sell). For where we were we could look out across the green mountains and see Acteal in the distance. There were other flat patches of green in the woods covered mountains that are other abandoned communities. I can't imagine the pain a person must feel to wake up every morning and see their home in the distance but be unable to go back there for fear of death. It was heart breaking, infuriating, and I was humbled by to think of my own life so full of blessings that I could never imagine a pain and struggle so great.

On another note, on the way back down the mountain I started sneezing because of all the pollen and plants around (or for whatever reason because after all I am always sneezing). Suddenly I heard someone in the distance going, “aheee!aheee!” and I turned the corner to see several meters away an old woman with her little grandchild mocking my sneeze! It was really funny and we laughed and waved. I guess some things are universal.

Some other things I have learned this week are about examples of the Mexican government giving aid to indigenous communities that is totally empty. In one video an indigenous man held up a bottle of medicine that the Mexican government had given them for their clinic, demanding to know why the government, if it cared so much for the people, would give them an unmarked bottle of medicine that had no instructions or event the name of the drug! “It could be very very old. It could be poison for all we know!” the man said shaking the bottle around. Sketchy as usual. We also learned about the woman one of our leaders is married to. She is involved with our program (I'll talk to people more about it in person) and because of her involvement several years ago the Mexican military entered her home killing everyone in her house, including her husband, and leaving only her and one other person alive.

All in all this has been amazing week. I am making friends with the other kids here and loving everything, even the awkwardness and hard moments which have been teaching me a lot too. Next week I will be going on Spring Break with some friends to Oaxaca and because I don't want to travel with my computer (I am giving it to the director of the program to bring with him to Mexico City), I will be unable to write anything to all of you. Next stop on my amazing experience is Tlaxcala! We will be moving closer and closer to the border for the rest of the program. I am very sad to say goodbye to Chiapas, Oventik in particular and all the amazing people I have met. However I hope to keep their example of organizing, of strength, bravery, “digna rabia”, community, and love in my heart for the rest of my life.

Besos y abrazos,

Marlena