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

life in middle earth

wow, im sorry, im quite awful at writing frequently, aren't i?

let's see, last time i wrote i was just about to do bungy, eh? february 1, ah yes. i did the nevis bungy jump the next day. i think i mentioned it in my last post, but it was 134 meters, or around 440 ft. i honestly wasnt scared about it beforehand, but only due to my avoidance of thinking about it completely. i went with a couple israeli girls, marina and anush, that roberto and i traveled with for a while. they were terrified, and i felt awful, but they were actually forced to go first. you've gotta jump in order of weight so that the bungy sretches out appropriately. marina screamed the whole way down. anush was so frightened that she actually couldnt utter a sound. she was shaking afterwards. and, just to build up the anticipation before your jump, the glass panel in the floor of the gondala gives you the opportunity to watch your friends fall helplessly into a jagged, rocky abyss. how pleasant.

i got my legs strapped in and was escorted to the edge. you can't really move your legs that well when strapped to the bungy, and you really have to inch right up there. so despite my best efforts i was forced to look down. and that's when it hits you - you're going to die. the guy counts '3, 2, 1..' and you're off. for that very first split second, i think for the first time in my life, i truly believed i was a goner. you have no hope. there's no turning back. and somehow the guy definitely forgot to attach something the right way. you're not goin back up.

but then you come to your senses and realize that it's all gonna be alright. and it feels so incredible. at the nevis you freefall for 8 seconds and get up to 80 mph. which may not seem like much, but when you're hurdling towards rock, well..you get the idea. ha, jepp here does a good job of demonstrating: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJLBiDI4Xgc

we spent that night in queenstown and went out to the pubs. there's a really great bar seen there with all of the travelers and whatnot. roberto and i met up with a couple canadian guys, cody and rob, that roberto had met a while back. we all had a good time, despite the fact that we woke up with empty pockets. it's a good time, but queenstown can be hard on the bank account.

the next day the girls left early for queenstown and roberto and i headed out to walk the next three days along the routeburn track, throughout the fiordland area. it started off as a pretty normal hike through the rainforest for the first couple hours as we made our way to the campsite. on this particular hike, and a few others throughout the country, you can't just camp anywhere, but only at specific designated areas. our first night was spent in the presence of enormous snow-capped mountains, along the warm, sunset-lit shores of an enormous field (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302939906348100450). we shared the space with only a few others, who gathered together as the moon rose and the night slipped over us, sharing stories of travels and our other lives, back in the real world.

the next day was more challenging, as we clambered hundreds of feet up the steep, rocky slopes of the mountain. after two hours of steady uphill hiking we happily reached the treeline, where we were presented of the most magnificent views of middle earth. it was lord of the rings; vast expanses of sheer openness, rocks and boulders scattering the rough, barren surface (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302941217882247906). being coaxed up the jagged slopes by the sweet smell of mountain wildflowers and the thought of lunch, we made it up to the summit in only another hour or so. right next to the cabins there's a small 45 min. hike up to the top of conical hill, which was easily the hardest part of the entire journey. it just goes up, and up, and up. but the reward is breathtaking, the view spanning across the valley to the alps, leading to the beautiful southern fiords on one end and all the way to the tasman sea on the other. we ate lunch and continued on across a winding rocky ledge that led across the steep slopes of a few mountains to reach the second campsite, miles away. upon arriving in the mid-afternoon, it only took us moments before diving into the clear blue mountain lake, suspended high above the salty ocean and civilization by the snow-covered peaks of the alps. it was freezing, but oh so refreshing.

we were less fortunate the next day. heavy winds throughout the night almost blew our tent away and dragged in the clouds and rain, which started sometime during the night and lasted all day. the entire three-hour walk on the third day was spent rushing, skipping over rocks and streams through the rain and dense fog to arrive at the warm, cushy seats of the bus on time. there was no view, only the tall trees of the mountainous rainforest enshrouded in fog and falling water.

we got a package deal. we took the bus to and from the trek and got to check out milford sound before heading back to queenstown. it was incredible. the grandeur size of the mountains exploding from the crystal waters of the fiord is breathtaking. unfortunately, said rain and fog blanketed the beautiful coastal waters and kept our eyes from reaching all the way up to the jagged summits. nevertheless, i was there. and it was cool (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302944137206848418).

roberto and i returned to queenstown with empty bellies and tired legs, but somehow found enough energy to suck it up and hit the pub. our next couple days followed as such: wake up, enjoy the warm rays and cool winds of queenstown, walk, eat, etc., then head out to pub/club/rob and cody's hostel. any of these in the last bit can be exchanged, switched in order, etc. to accomplish the same effect. we left queenstown, our pockets a little lighter, smiles a little wider, and headed off to dunedin on the east coast.

we were only there for a couple nights - its mid summer, all the students are gone, and we arrived on a sunday. it probably goes without saying that the place was dead. what is most likely a pretty cool city during the later months of the year was dark and desolate. i mean, empty streets by 6 pm. we were going to explore the coast the second day, which is host to everything from the giant albatross to seals and penguins. but it rained of course. actually, it poured, all day. so i went to the public art gallery and a tiny vegan restaurant instead. it sufficed. there was a huge exhibit by a famous kiwi painter, i forgot her name. it was interesting but i wasnt too impressed. the food, on the other hand, was definitely worth mentioning.

after dunedin we headed to lake tekapo, a gorgeous lake in the center of the south island whose water has been turned a glowing bright blue by the presence of rock sediment. riding from dunedin, i knew i was close to the lake and its neighbor, the amazing pukaki, before even 10 miles away (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302944765216063762). the overcast skies in the distance shown a bright blue, catching the reflection of the vibrant waters below and sending a message of hope to drivers hurdling along the desert highway. rolling into the crunchy gravel parking lot of the tekapo lakeside backpackers in the early afternoon, the clouds rushed to hide behind the mountains in the distance and let the sun reclaim the open sky.

we spent a few hours just roaming around the lakeside and taking countless photos, enamored by the beauty of the crystalline waters (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302945326495408226). i took off by myself after a while to explore around the lake on my bike. the views were stunning, especially from on top of the local mountain, next to a public observatory; the rolling hills of the desert gave way to the dark purple-blue silhouette of mountains in the distance, offering cover to the quickly setting golden sun (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/KiwilandPartI#5302946352750653682).

i got back just in time to make dinner and join in the good company of other travelers, who huddled around the picnic tables in the open sky to share stories and drinks. i met another american, a few english, welsh, a scottish girl Carol who had been traveling in sync with roberto and i, and teresa, a german girl. teresa and i stayed up and watched the moon turn from a feint, white sliver to a bright yellow globe that seemed to fill half the night sky. oh, we also met a nice little hedgehog fellow, who was sniffing through wrappers left around after dinner. very cute.

teresa and i both went to christchurch the next day, leaving roberto to spend another relaxing day along the beach of tekapo. i spent the next 3 or 4 days in christchurch, exploring, dancing, etc. roberto joined me later and we met more germans, katharina, teresa, and friends. [there are so many germans here, more than in germany, i believe]. its a cool city with quite a bit to do so i had no trouble filling a few days. we luckily arrived just as the weekend set in and were able to enjoy markets in the streets for a few days in a row. i also went to the art gallery there and was truly amazed. there were a few great exhibits, but the best was easily that of australian artist fiona hall, who reimagines and reshapes the uses, functions, and appearances of synthetic consumer crap. using soda cans, tuna cans, pvc pipe, soap, beads, and american dollars, among other things, she reinvents her objects to reflect our culture and society, beautiful species of plants, and the human body. her work was really really amazing, and you should see too: (http://images.google.co.nz/images?q=fiona+hall&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=D2iiSfT7DIKOsQPQvr2_CQ&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&resnum=4&ct=title)

roberto and i left the canadians behind and took off on the same day, both headed in different directions. while i just took a short drive up the coast, roberto hopped on a plane for auckland to tour the north island for the next few weeks before heading back home. the ride to kaikoura was beautiful, bringing me back into the mountains and hills, only to spit me out once again along the bright blue shores of the pacific. the coast around kaikoura is some of the most beautiful ive ever seen and is littered with amazing wildlife, seals and big birds included. i only stayed one night in the dusky lodge backpackers but managed to witness an absolutely mindblowing sunset and spend some time at the water's edge before the tide came to reclaim the dry, rocky beaches (http://picasaweb.google.com/wrenar/ItSHardBeingASeal#5304740377826779794).

i awoke groggily the next morning and packed up my bike slowly, doing so once again in the presence of lovely south island rain. the 3 hour ride to picton was wet and cold, but luckily short and beautiful. my laziness in the morning gave me little time to reach the beckoning gates of the interislander ferry, but i arrived just in time. a few hours later, the gates were reopened and we poured out of the boat and onto the dry, sunny docks of wellington harbor, my new home.

and for the next 5 days i made wellington my home. i have a nice little single studio apartment only 2 blocks from cuba st., the center of town. its an odd room, contorted into a strange L-shape, with stairs leading down to my bed and kitchenette. but its in the corner of the building, providing me one whole wall of windows that overlook the busy street below. i spent a few days settling in and getting to know the area, which is really great by the way. cuba st. is a lot like the commons, except about 4 times bigger. there is so much music and art here, it makes me so happy. its a beautiful city and will make for a great semester.

orientation was thursday. a large majority of the few hundred students studying abroad at Victoria this semester are American, but ive already met a few handfuls of really great people that i look forward to spending the next few months with. after spending a few hours waiting in line friday to enroll in classes in the most ridiculously inefficient manner possible, i was ready for what the weekend had to offer. from 20-22 of february, wellington gets a little spicier as it celebrates carnival.

i spent the morning of the 21, this past saturday, roaming around the amazing te papa, wellington's museum, with marina and anush, who were in town for the night. its a really beautiful museum and there are a few cool displays up now. the impressionists exhibit is up for a while and features a lot of really amazing works by monet, manet, etc. perhaps more intriguing, however, was the giant squid they have on display. they just discovered it in the deep waters off the coast in the last few months. and let me tell you, that sucker is huge. it's about 30 feet long and apparently has the largest eyeballs of any animal in the world, which are about as big as soccer balls. its wild.

i started the night off with a few friends that i recently met from new york and new hampshire. later that night we left the sweet songs of jerry garcia, the empty bottles, and the empty apartment behind to venture out into the restless city below. it was alive with people crawling throughout the streets, going from one show to another. we ended up at the san francisco bath house and danced along to the funky tunes of a great kiwi instrumental band. we joined the company of a couple hundred other smiling faces and spent the next few hours dancing together, the syncopated groove warming our hearts, enriching our minds.

and now im here - 6 hours from wellington in an alcove of natural beauty. im at the taranaki environment centre, surrounded by gardens and beautiful trees. ill be working here for a week before returning to wellington to start classes. its been an incredible journey so far, and it can really only get better from here on out. check out www.picasaweb.google.com/wrenar for my fotos, which i update much more frequently than these words. ill try to write again soon. miss you all.

love

Chiapas Chonicle #4....

Hi Everyone,

This week at Oventik was a little less eventful than the other weeks, though still wonderful! It has been very warm the last few days which is fills me with relief every morning I wake up and don't have to sweat in rubber boots all day. I was feeling a little sick for a day this week, which made me miss a day of activities but I'm feeling 100% better now.

This week we discussed various aspects of Zapatisto with our promotor, including their views on agriculture and farming. Zapatistas are against the use of fertilizer, which creates a dependence on the fertilizer and the government. They are also proponents of organic farming and not using chemicals or pesticides. The land isn't very good for farming and there has been widespread malnutrition, especially among children. However, the love of beans is very strong in the community and is reflected in a song (that they said is mainly for gringos to learn from and not people in the EZLN):

Se me sube el colesterol
vida mia
si me sube le colesterol

zapata vive la lucha sigue
se me sube colesterol

We sing a lot of songs together, but this one is the best by far! We have been eating really healthy here, mostly fruit and veggies and beans and tons of tortillas! The lack of protein leaves me hungry only a little bit after eating, but I've been bringing a little extra food with me back from San Cristobal to suppliment my diet.

This week we finally had the opportunity to give back to the community a tiny bit. We led games with the secondary school kids at night. We played Simon says, bonding games, and various forms of tag. It was actually a lot of fun and after the students got over thier initial shyness, things got really rowdy! Apparently taging someone doesn't consist of touching them, but actually tackling them and dragging them back to the other side of the room.

This week we also continued to work on weaving. So far to make a tiny bag it has taken me about six hours to finish all the weaving with minimal desgins. This bag, in the market costs about 50 pesos (less than five dollars) and though it takes less time for someone who is skilled at weaving to make such a bag, it really gives me a lot of perspective about the value society gives to different work and crafts. Also, in Oventik I have noticed a lot of men weaving and embroidering. Our promotor told us even twenty years ago it would be strange to see a man taking care of the children, weaving, or working in the kitchen. In Oventik men are doing all these activities and its really a testament to how much Zapatismo has changed some of the culture of sexismo and gender norms in only a few short years.

We also learned to make homemade tortillas this week which was amazing. They were crunchy and delicious and I plan on making lots of them for all of you when I get back. It was actually a very fun activity. We listened to music on a little boombox and cooked them over a little charcoal stove.

I'm afraid there is not much else to report this week. My glasses broke a few hours ago and I have been trying to wear my contacts which gives me a small headache. Hopfully I'll be able to get them fixed soon. I'm in Oventik for about one more week and then I have a Spring break (which I am spending in Oaxaca with some women from Hampshire College).

Much love,

Marlena

Rajasthan

I spent Friday evening debating on whether or not to go out, finally deciding on take-out and old bollywood films. Hanna ended up having a friend, Anon, come over for drinks and dinner--so we sat around on the balcony and thought about the implications of the recession and the future of journalism. Anon told us he was currently trying to write a book about Afghanistan, but that it was hard for him to personalize his experiences after working as an objective agent for so long. I think Anon is the best name for an author--I couldn't think of anything better.

Saturday morning I left for Niz. Train station around 5 am. I met Andre, who informed me that there were no trains leaving from Niz to Jaipur, and we would have to go to to Old Delhi. We went to Old Delhi in an overpriced rickshaw, and still, no train to Jaipur. We tried New Delhi station, but again, no trains until noon. The worst part being that I had to stand in line to figure all of this out, and I chose the same line as Andre, not realizing that there are designated lines for females and males. Consequently, I was pushed and harassed by a group of men trying to buy tickets who figured I had no right to be in their line. We decided to take the bus and grab some chaat for breakfast. We bought some sort of spicy potato pancake which was really very good.
The bus company ordered a bicycle rickshaw to take us to the bus--always an awkward proposition, but worth it in this case. On the way to the bus, we saw the morning milk being divied into large tin containers, newspapers being wrapped and tied with twine for their morning deliveries, and cows hanging out near open fire pits along the road. It's crazy that people get up around 4am to make sure everyone else gets their daily whatever on time before regular working hours. I remember seeing men bathing in a wash house in Chandni Chowk, and the tour guide telling us that they were bread makers who would go to sleep around noon and wake up at 2 or 3am, and then do it all over again.

We passed out for the first half of the ride (5 hours), but when I woke up, there was the most adorable little girl sitting across the aisle from me. Her name was Priyana, but she was wearing a black and yellow striped sweater suit, so I called her bumble bee. I ended up letting her play with my camera and take pictures, and she sat on my lap for a while so her parents could have a break. She really was one of the cutest kids I had ever seen. Her parents were also interesting--an engineer and a stay-at-home mom--Pradeep and Neetu. Neetu spoke no English and had to ask all of her questions through Pradeep, but would give me hand fulls of snacks along the way sans verbal communication. When I asked Pradeep what Neetu did for work, he said "Oh, she's just a stay at home wife." While indicating toward Priyana, I replied, "Just? Isn't that the hardest job of all?" He laughed and agreed, but he didn't seem to value her work very much. It's the little things like this that have been shaping my perception on Indian gender disparities.

We reached Amber Fort, where the bus let us off, just outside of the city of Jaipur. While debating on how to get into the city, several elephants marched by, so we decided to ride them into town. Basically, this was one of the worst experiences of my life. In order to make them move, the drivers had to poke them with a stick and kick them. I asked them to stop, and the elephant stopped. I soon realized that the elephants only responded to this sort of negative stimulus. The worst part was, that the driver once dropped his beating stick on the ground, and the elephant handed it back to him with its trunk! It was terrible, and I will never support that kind of cruelty again. A learning experience, at least.

Jaipur itself is really beautiful. The capital of Rajasthan is a well known source for Indian handicrafts and textile--some of the most beautiful artifacts I had ever seen. We were able to see the City Palace, Amber Fort, Krishna Temple, the Water Palace, Palace of the Winds, and Mirror Palace all in two days. We also walked around Old Jaipur and found our way through the mazes of bizarres and markets. We even saw half of a bollywood movie--Bilu the Barber, I think. It was completely in Hindi, no subtitles, but the context was easy to decipher--I think the dancing and repetitive singing helps. Again, there were separate lines for men and women. I can't say I wasn't relieved to be out of reach from wandering hands, but at the same time, doesn't this segregation just accept chauvinistic behaviours? The problem isn't that women are a temptation, the problem is that men seem to have a hard time respecting other human beings. Segregating men and women just seems to say, "Boys will be boys," so we shall provide a non-solution and ignore the real problem--that men here feel entitled to ogle, touch or harass women in general.

At the movie theatre, men kept asking to take my picture. Not really sure why, but this seems to happen a lot in large public places or monuments. I'm usually pretty skeptical, I don't really like the attention, especially since people are always trying to rip me off. Most of the time, they really just want the photo.
Our rickshaw driver for the weekend, Rafik, drove us around in an auto with a sound system (not common) and proceeded to blast Ace of Base, Backstreet Boys, JLO and Britney Spears. I was more than a little mortified, and again, did not want the attention. If people didn't realize we were tourists, they certainly did when we pulled up to Amber singing 'Hit me baby one more time.' Rafik was doing it for our benefit though, and I didn't have the heart to stop him. He also looked like Elvis and told us silly sayings:
"No ciappatti, no chai.
No money, no honey.
No college, no knowledge.
No woman...no cry."

We took the train back on Sunday afternoon. We booked sleeper class tickets, but didn't realize that we did not have confirmed seats. Basically it was standing room only on an un-air conditioned train and really narrow aisles. I wanted to go to the top and sit with the free-riders, but the family I was sitting with assured me this was a terrible idea. I had prayed earlier at the Krishna Temple near Amber Fort for God to humble me and to curb my appetite for possession (in a country like India, you are constantly tempted by shiny objects). I believe this was his first answer--it was, indeed, a humbling six hours. I had no water, no real seat, and the train would halt at different rural ports for ridiculously long periods. I would fall asleep for about ten minutes at a time, and wake up with about fifteen men peering down/over at me from their seats--awkward. The scenery was beautiful for the first hour of sunlight, but I wasn't near the window and the sun went down, blacking out all of India until the next day.

When we finally got back to Delhi, I grabbed my stuff at Hanna's and headed to the new flat in Defence. There was a little mix up with the flat arrangements--Swallie is still occupying the room I am renting--but she's moving out Thursday, so there's no real issue. There was a lot of yelling in French the day she got back into town, but things have since settled, and my flat mates, and their friends, have proven to be exceptionally lovely human beings. C'est la vie, no?

Last night I tried attending a lecture on Women Freedom Fighters at the India Islamic Centre. Everyone was very welcoming and friendly, but once the lecture began, it was entirely in Hindi, so I didn't walk away with more than the title and the names of the speakers. I'm currently trying to find a good way to learn Hindi--Swallie told me how to say "Is it because Im white?" and "I am not a tourist," so I can argue with rickshaws about overcharges. Rob and I went for some street food (chili fried rice--really good!) and then I introduced him to the techno-yogurt craze that is Cocoberry (Pinkberry in the States).

I'm currently debating on whether to go to Agra this weekend or a Tiger Reserve in a jungle about six hours from Delhi. Shaka says I have newbie syndrome--everyone always travels out of Delhi every weekend for the first month or so until they're settled. I think I might have this syndrome for a while...

Love and Peace,
Elise

Chiapas Chonicle #3....

Hi Everyone,

Back again this weekend. We thought we were going to stay in San Cristobal for the weekend but its turns out we weren't invited to the party! That's ok, it is nice to be back and have some internet and a hot shower. We are invited to International Women's Day which is in March and should be really exciting.

This past week was a lot better than the week before. We had about two days of sun during which I got a small sunburn. It was very cool, this past week we had a class on the roof of one of the houses of the school. The roof was covered with coffee beans drying in the sun and we discussed moments that had given us courage (in Spanish of course!). our teacher told us about how when the school was being constructed and he was very young, helicopters from the Mexican military would try to land there. He and other kids would run outside and put sticks with points on them into the ground so the helicopter couldn't land. He said it was a moment that gave him a lot of courage. It was very moving. Our promotor said how that kind of courage gives you rage, a rage of dignity. There is actually a holiday every year called, "La Digna Rabia". The first demand that Zapatistas made after the uprising was not for services, but for DIGNITY in terms of the Mexican governemnt stopping thier violence and paternalism.

I keep learning more and more about Zapatismo, and the more I learn, the more I like it. We had a discussion about religion with our promotores (our language teachers) and they said that in terms of religion, most Zapatistas identify as Catholic becuase thier parents are Catholic and that is who they are. However, they also acknowledged that the Catholic Church has played a big part in keeping women down ( I noticed many prochoice Zapatista t-shirts in thier store). They also said that with new generations many young people are no as involved with the Church and that most Zapatistas mix elements of thier Maya culture and traditions with Catholicism. I know from reading some books on Zapatismo and discussions with others than many within the Zapatista movement even consider liberation theology parternalistic and unhelpful.

We went to a Zapatista autonomous community this week which was very interesting as well. We saw a lot of artesan, weaving, and metal work cooperatives. At many of the cooperatives the people working thier explained that many of the patterns and symbol they use are important in Maya history and religion and that they continue to use them in thier design. We also talked with a representative from the local EZLN government. He talked about how the people of the community are mostly not trying to vivir (live) but subreviver (survive). He showed us the local EZLN elementary school. As he showed us the small building, with it's dirt floor, simple wood benches for desks, and limited supplies, tears came to his eyes. He described how the teachers at the school, also Zapatistas and mostly young people, get no pay for thier work (only food) and live very very hard lives so they can work to educate thier community. The kids were copying down the phrase, "Zapatistas are fighting for life" (translation).

He also showed us the government school that is in the same community. The school was obviously much better in terms of money, but the playground was also govered in a fence and barbed wire. He said that the Mexican government only has begun projects to help indigenous people since the Zapatista movement and in that case, only try to provide these programs for Zapatista or tentative Zapatista communities instead for all indigenous communities as a whole. In this was it becomes obvious that the governmen's policies are made to buy off people from the EZLN movement instead of trying to actuall help or work with communities. The representative admitted that many people have been bought off by the government because of thier extreme poverty, but at the same time most people in that community have remained strong and support the EZLN school.

He also said, again with tears in his eyes, that the government education taught students to look back to the past, to revert to a way of thinking where people think they can only ask the government for the help they need instead of making it themselves. He said the Zapatista education was an education born from struggle and born from pain. That the students are taught to look at thier community and thier world and see the truth, see the truth of the poverty and thier struggle, to teach the students to be independent and think for themselves. He said that the government education only teaches students to respect thier superiours, wheres Zapatista education teaches kids to respect thier superiors and thier inferiors. Again, the teachers of the EZLN are called "promotores" or promotors, not teachers. The experience was extremely moving.

As for me, I am very happy now. I am still practicing my Spanish and trying to improve. It was much better this week because we had sun and weren't wet and cold the whole time. I also have been doing exercise with a group of women everyday (we climb up and down this big hill/driveway into the community five times, which is very hard since it is very steep. This entertains the people to no end, making many older women giggle at us as we doing this strange gringo exercise thing). I also organized two other women on the trip to make everyone on our program and our promotores valentines day cards. It went over really well and everyone loved thier cards, incuding the director of the trip who said it was one of the nicest things any of the groups he has led has ever done for eachother.

I am finding myself really loving Mexico. While I am still a huge outsider, I love the land which is so green and cool and lush. The food is very fresh, with plenty of lime, avocado, chile, and papaya. Many of the houses are such beautiful bright colors and chickens, gentle stray dogs, and tired mules wander everywhere. We hiked to the top of the mountain the other day to see a happy cow grazing by herself on the edge of the a cliff. It was very beautiful.

The people here have also been teaching me so much about thier struggle and myself. The are nice and kind, but not overly gracious or rude. The young children are very independent and hang out together and look after each other in little groups. The little babies are kept very close to thier mother, father, or siblings. They are carried in a shawl that is tied like a sling to the back or front of the person. There are also a lot of wonderful fathers, some who seem to do the majority of childcare. There is one father who is always caring for his little baby (Isla Flor) and is incredibly sweet with her.

The other day I was going to the bathroom when I noticed a huge group of kids gathered around a big concrete tub of water (we fill our buckets in it to flush the toilet). Because the bathroom was so close to the tub and the door hardly closes and the kids are prone to laughing at us when we pee (or diarreah loudly!) I felt really nervous. I guess it showed on my face because this little boy laughed at me and made a roaring sound and a motion with his hand like he was a lion or something. He laughed so I laughed and then looked at what all the kids were studying. They were raising some fish in the tub and one of them had died. They were trying to get it out.

I feel like I am learning so much and am very grateful to be getting this opportunity.

Le Flat

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2263152&id=433022&l=a7fbf

For those of you without facebook, you can view my pictures of India at the above link. Let me know if there are any problems with it.

So staying with Sascha and Anna went well--Sascha is from Germany and Anna is Czech. I stayed with them Monday night and we ended up watching too many episodes of the Big Bang Theory (they had downloaded every episode available). They even invited me to an Indian wedding next week, so hopefully I will be able to go.

I spent the rest of the week with my friend Hanna, the Swedish journalist who I met at Andy's party. She was gracious enough to let me take over her living room for about a week in her amazing tree house of an apartment. I'll take pictures of it before I move out, it is the best flat I've been to thus far--really open and on the top floor of the building, so half of it is roof access (you have to walk outside to go to the bathroom or the kitchen--but its a good thing!) The shower doesn't work at her place, so you have to fill a bucket with hot water and take a bath with that. I really actually prefer this method because you don't waste much water--if you don't use it all up you can even save some for other purposes. I only wash my hair most of the time, anyway.

I went apartment hunting on Wednesday and met a lot of really great people in the process. My first stop was in Jangpura Ext. which is really close to the Habitat Centre where I work. My potential roomie, Shaka, is a basketball coach at the French Embassy School, originally from Camaroon but molded in Paris. He was really great, and there was even a poster of CHE on the wall like at home! The only thing that might have been odd was that I had to walk through his room to get to my room...but I wouldn't have cared, I would have just felt bad for Shaka.

The second flat was in Malviya Nagar, which is pretty far south in Delhi. It's about a twenty minute ride when there's no traffic, and forty minutes in the morning to work. The flat was amazing--very modern and new appliances/fixtures, lots of marble and really high ceilings. There was a wrought iron sprial staircase in the middle of the hallway which leads up to the rooftop. My room would have been ginormous with its own bathroom and balcony. Sukrat, the guy who showed me around, is a documentary film maker who is currently working on a campaign concerning the Bush administration (go figure), and the other woman who is living there is a Fullbright Scholar from Florida--didn't get to meet her though. He was really interesting, and although I really liked the flat, it was more expensive and too far from work.

The third flat was in Defence Colony, belonging to a couple of French. I found the place around the same time as the other prospective roomate, Simond, and his friend Andre, were approaching the gate. We all walked up together and met Antoine and Flavien, the current occupants and had a tour. The flat is really nice and so Simond and I jokingly argued over who would get it. In the end, he let me have the room (what a gentleman). Three of them work at the French Embassy, not exactly sure where Flavien works--he told me but I cannot remember. They ordered dinner and we discussed travel plans for the duration of our time in India. I'll be moving my things out of the cubicle and into the flat later this evening. I'm headed to Jaipur this weekend with Andre, so I'll let you know how that goes. Andre is actually couchsurfing at Wesley's flat, who I had asked to couchsurf with last week--small world.

Rahil, his friend Carol, and I were originally planning on heading to Agra this weekend, but its V-Day and we didn't want to be caught up in the yuppie mess professing their love to one another at the Taj Mahal.

The couch surfing thing is still in effect--I've met several people for dinner/drinks and they've all been really interesting. On Tuesday, I met Rob from Alabama and had dinner in Defence Colony (where I accidentally ate Lamb--so much for my awesome streak of vegetarianism--to be fair, it was hiding in Naan). He's a rotary scholar who did his undergad at UGA, so of course I had to meet him. Right now hes at JNU doing a masters in Economics--he was really knowledgable and told me a lot about the current relgious conflicts in India, which was really interesting. We got a little lost, but it was fine since he has a motor bike, which makes it incredibly easy and enjoyable to get around the city.

Internship is still going well--I have a lot of research to do in the coming weeks to prepare for the World Day Against Child Labour.

Miss you and love you all,
Elise