Why Oaxaca, and...Don't I Miss My Family?

So, occasionally Jethro and I play the "you ask me a question, and then I ask you a question" game. Yesterday, he asked me the following questions:

1.) Why Oaxaca? 

2.) Don't you miss your family?

A veces, Jethro y yo jugamos el "pregúntame algo" juego. 

Ayer, me preguntó dos preguntas:

1.) ¿Por qué Oaxaca?

2.) ¿Extrañas a tu familia?

I get these questions from other people as well, and figured they'd make for an interesting blog post. If you end up super bored, I apologize. 

Otras personas me han preguntado esto también, y pienso que están buenos temas para un nuevo ''blog post.''

Si mueras de aburrimiento, te ofrezco mis disculpas. 

Actually, I don't. 

Ok, maybe a little. 

...o tal vez no. 

Okay. Quizá un poco. 

Anyway - let's start with #1: Why Oaxaca?

-- When I decided to have the immersion Spanish experience, I asked around. I asked friends who had done Spanish immersion programs all over the place, and they said 1.) do it, it'll work wonders on your Spanish and 2.) go to Oaxaca. 

People who studied in Puebla, Chiapas, Guatemala, Mexico City, and Guadalajara had all come, at some point, to Oaxaca...and it made a big enough impression that all of them said "go there." It didn't hurt that the price was also ridiculously reasonable...and that a lifelong dream of mine to experience a genuine Day of the Dead could be attained in Oaxaca. 

Okay. Vamos a empezar con #1: ¿Por qué Oaxaca?

-- Cuando decidí tener la experiencia de inmersión de español, pregunté a unos amigos que ya habían estudiado en programas en lugares diferentes (en México y otros países) y me dijeron dos cosas... 1.) hazlo! va a ayudar a tu español! y 2.) vete a Oaxaca! 

Gente que había estudiado en Puebla, Chiapas, Guatemala, el DF, y Guadalajara habían visitado a Oaxaca y la ciudad les hizo una impresión fuerte...tan fuerte que todas mis dijeron venir aquí. Y también el precio estaba muy reasonable...y tuve el sueño de tener la experience del Día de los Muertos...y sabía que podría actualizar este sueño aquí. 

So I bought the tickets...and within days was in love. 

Here's the thing...I was born an outsider. I was born in Germany to American parents, I was raised in Japan with blonde hair and blue eyes and an intermediate grasp of the language. I lived overseas longer than I lived in my legal country. I have always been a foreigner everywhere I go, including the US...and if I have to be a gaijin, foreigner, extranjera... I might as well be allowed to choose a place where that doesn't bother me. 

And it doesn't bother me here. 

I finally feel like I have a home, and I refuse to walk away from that feeling. 

Compré mis boletos y me enamoré en unos días. 

Fíjate que siempre he estado una "extranjera." Nací una extranjera. Nací en Alemania a papás de los EEUU, crecí en Japón con cabello rubio y ojos claros y con una comprensión intermedia del idioma. Viví afuera de los EEUU más años que viví en el país. Siempre he estado una extranjera en todas partes, incluso mi ''propio''país...y si tengo que ser un ''gaijin'' o ''foreigner'' or ''extranjera''...¿por qué no elijo el lugar por mi misma? 

Y aquí no me molesta que soy diferente, que soy extranjera, güera, gaijin... porque finalmente me siento como si tuviera un hogar, y me niego rechazar este sentimiento.  

So here comes question #2: Don't you miss your family?

The quick and easy answer is: yes, of course. 

But in the time I've lived overseas, or on the opposite side of the country, I've learned that my family is only ever 12 - 15 hours away (with flights and layover times...25ish hours by vehicle). I grew up understanding that families can love each other without living next door to one another. 

Llegamos a pregunta #2: ¿Extrañas a tu familia?

La respuesta corta es: claro que sí....

...pero en el tiempo que he vivido ''afuera'' o lejos, pero en el mismo país, he aprendido que mi familia siempre está cerca... 12 - 15 horas por avión, o 25 horas por coche. Crecí con el entendimiento de que families pueden querer y apoyar uno a otro sin estar vecinos.  

I do occasionally lament that I can't attend every school function my siblings have, but at the same time they know - without a doubt - that there is no one in this world who loves them more than I do...and that I will easily shake the sun out of the sky to make the important things happen. 

A veces me lamento el hecho de que no había podido asistir cada evento de las vidas de mis hermanitos, pero al mismo tiempo saben que - sin duda - no hay nadie en este mundo que los quiere más que yo, y que fácilmente quitaría al sol del cielo para hacer posible las cosas importantes.  

Plus, living overseas gives my family the opportunity to travel somewhere new and do something exciting. :) 

Además, vivir en otro país presenta a mi familia con la oportunidad para viajar a un lugar nuevo, y hacer algo diferente. 

The hard and dirty truth is this: I'm really happy. 

Oaxaca makes me happy. 

My life here is a happy one. 

My family is happy that I am happy. 

So I suppose, now, I turn the tables and ask you the same questions...

1.) Why are you where you are?

2.)  How does your family factor in the equation?

La verdad - simple y clara es: Estoy muy feliz. 

Estar en Oaxaca me hace feliz. 

Mi vida aquí en una vida feliz. 

Mi familia está feliz porque estoy feliz. 

Ahora, te pregunto las mismas cosas....

1.) ¿Por qué estás donde estás?

2.) ¿Como afecta esto tu familia? 

Hundred. Dollah. Bills.

Picture this:

You are in Billings, Montana. You have a $50 bill in your wallet, and you want some Mountain Dew. That Mountain Dew costs $2.50 (because you're buying it in a bottle, not in a super sized cup). You drive your unnecessarily large truck to the nearest gas station, pick out your bottle, and walk up to the cash register.

The cashier says, "That'll be $2.50." You open your wallet, and hand him a $50 bill.
He gives you $47.50 in change. You say, "Hey, thanks. Have a good one." He nods, and smiles, and says, "See ya around."

And you continue with your life.

Imagínate esto:

Estás en Billings, Montana. Tienes sed, y quieres un Mountain Dew. También tienes USD$50.00 en tu bolsillo. Un Mountain Dew tiene un precio de US$2.50 (porque vas a comprar una botella, no una copa super grande como normal). Manejas tu camioneta enorme al estación de gas, eliges tu botella, y estás lista para pagar. 

El cajero te dice, "Va a costar US$2.50." Abres tu cartera, y le das US$50.00 en efectivo. 
Te da US$47.50 de cambio, se sonríe y te dice, "Gracias. Nos vemos."

Sigues viviendo tu vida. 

Now picture this:

You are in Oaxaca, Oaxaca. You have a 500 peso bill in your pocket (about US$45.00), and you want to eat lunch at your favorite restaurant, with a fixed price menu of 100 pesos. You walk to the restaurant, sit down, eat the delicious food, and then ask for the bill.

You pull a 500 bill out of your pocket, and put it in the check holder. The waiter takes it.
Then he brings it back and asks if you have change. Two things can happen at this point:

1.) You dig through all of your pockets and bags looking for change. You come upon a 200 peso bill. The waiter asks again if you're sure you don't have exact change. You say you're sure. He takes your 200 pesos, but everyone knows he's slightly annoyed.

2.) You don't have change. You begin to apologize profusely. You thought you had 100 pesos. You were sure. The waiter goes to the kitchen, they don't have change. The waiter asks people in the restaurant if they can break 500 pesos. You hang your head in a shame. They say no (because change for 500 pesos does not exist). Finally, the waiter leaves the restaurant and goes to a neighboring store where someone breaks the 500 peso bill.

Ahora, imagínate esto:

Estás en Oaxaca. Tienes 500 pesos en tu cartera y quieres comer en tu restaurante favorito, con un menú diario de 100 pesos. Caminas al restaurent, te sientas, y comes bien. Le pides al mesero la cuenta, y cuando llegue, pongas 500 de efectivo adentro. El mesero lo lleva....y regresa para preguntarte si tienes cambio. 

Ahora, 2 cosas pueden pasar:

1.) Empiezas buscar frenéticamente en todos tus bolsillos, tu mochila, etc. Encuentres 200 pesos. El mesero te pregunta otra vez si no tienes cambio exacto. Le dices que no, estás seguro que no tienes cambio exacto y el mesero se va con un poco de frustración en su cara. 

2.) No tienes cambio. No sabes cómo pasó esto. Estabas seguro que tenía cambio contigo, pensaste que había 100 pesos en tu cartera. Tienes vergüenza y no puedes mirar a nadie en la cara. El mesero empieza a preguntar a la gente en el restaurante si tienen cambio. Por supuesto, nadie lo tiene. Finalmente, el mesero se va a otra empresa y regresa con tu cambio. 

I have discovered that there are really only 3 ways you can change out 500 pesos:
1.) Have a really good relationship with someone who owns a high traffic business, and be careful not to abuse the 500 peso bill breaking more than 2x a month.
2.) Have a local bank account, and stand in the epically long lines at the bank in hopes that the cashier will break your money.
3.) Buy something that costs more than 300 pesos (but then you're spending a lot of money...to get change...)

Every time I see people running between businesses with bills in their hands, I laugh.
I get it.
It is the game of the 500 peso bill.
A dance. A puzzle. A joke.

He descubierto que realmente solo hay 3 maneras en que puedes recibir cambio de 500 pesos:

1.) Tienes que tener un buen amigo que tiene una empresa con muchos clientes. 
2.) Tienes que tener una cuenta de banco aquí, y tener paciencia con las filas, y también suerte de que el cajero vaya a cambiar tu dinero. 
3.) Tienes que comprar algo que cuesta más que 300 pesos (pero vas a perder 300 pesos, y solo vas a tener ~200 de cambio). 

Cada vez que veo a una persona correr entre negocios, con la esperanza de cambiar dinero, tengo que reírme. 
De repente, lo entiendo. 
Es el juego de los 500.
Es un baile. Un rompecabeza. Una broma. 

And I find that there are no words that describe, in full detail, the look on someones face when you pull out a 500 bill...or when someone walks into a room and asks if someone has change for 500.

It is a pained and exasperated expression which translates roughly to: sorry, I can't help...but boy, do I feel your pain.

If it were up to me, the 500 peso bill would be an ancient artifact.
It is not needed.
It is unwanted.
It has no admirers.

And now, for a musical accompaniment...

Y no hay palabras para explicar la mirada en la cara de alguien cuando otra persona entra el cuarto y pregunta, "alguien tiene cambio de 500?"

Es una mirada que dice algo entre, "Claro que no, pero entiendo muy bien tu posición."

Si podría eliminar el billete de 500, lo haría. 
No es querido. 
No es necesario. 
No tiene ningún amigo ni admirador. 

y ahora...para una canción del tema... 

Put A Smile On Your Face.

Growing up (and even now) my dad would always tell us that happiness is a choice.
He would say that when you wake up, you get to decide: Am I going to be happy today? Or am I going to be (insert unhappy emotion here).

Now, he'd typically say this when one of us kids was in a particularly bad mood, and hearing that we were choosing to be in a bad mood often just made us (more) mad.

And maybe at that age it wasn't totally a choice; a lot of it was hormonal.
But, there was still some choice involved.

Now that I'm a rational, grown human being I can easily understand where he was coming from with that little bit of insight.

He's right.
He's always been right.

Every day, I wake up and I get to choose the path my day will take; it's always easier to take the positive path.

Even on a bad day, or when things get rough...it's still easier to be positive, to choose to be happy in spite of the issues.

Life was never made easier by frowning or wallowing.
So, yes. Sometimes life gets weird and hard. Sometimes a miserable day is absolutely necessary.
Sometimes life throws curveballs.

But life is too short to waste it feeling sorry for ourselves...for wallowing, for worrying, for anger.
Instead, we should look ahead towards the things we know we enjoy, and move through our struggles with a positive attitude.

Way more can be done to address what's bothering you if you carry a clear head on your shoulders, and a smile on your face.

And now for a list of 10 things that make me happy:
1.) butterflies
2.) snuggling with babies
3.) the trike (a motorcycle)
4.) good friends
5.) fresh pressed juices
6.) avocados
7.) sunshine
8.) learning new things
9.) daisies
10.) running

All The World's A Stage.

Let's start with the positives.
Actually, I'm not so sure it's a "positive" but it's not the angry rant that I have brewing in the depths of my soul.

So let's start with something lighter.

Street kids.

They are literally on every street in Oaxaca. Hungry, dirty, hilarious, vivacious, little kids who typically spend their days begging for money.

And occasionally food.

Because I am almost 100% certain they don't get to keep the money they collect, I will not give them any. But food? Always.

If a child asks me for food, I will never say no. Starving or not.
And so today, when Lisa and I were walking to the little park to sit and eat lunch, and this little chico came up alongside us asking for some of our peanuts, we happily obliged.

And I gave him a sucker.
And then a woman passed by, selling alegría and I bought those and gave him that, too.

The look on his face was pure shock. He had only asked for peanuts.
He walked back towards his accordion-playing dad with his hands full, and a spring in his step, and I felt a little better knowing that they'd have something extra to eat today.

- - - - -

Now about that angry rant.

As much as I love Oaxaca - and I really, really love it here - there is one thing that I just can't figure out how to approach: the bounty of unwanted attention.

I can handle the annoying noises.
I just pretend I don't hear them. I keep my head down. I don't make eye contact. I don't say hello.
Well, 88% of the time.

But despite trying to make myself invisible, the fact of the matter is simply that I'm not. And I'm different.

And I'm not sure why, but for some reason my differentness seems to be synonymous with "Hey, complete stranger! Yeah, you! I don't know you but why don't you come talk to me? I'd really love to answer all your really personal questions!"

At least once a day, but usually 2 or 3 times, I am approached by a complete stranger (of the male variety). Sometimes, these conversations are innocent: why are you here, what do you think about Oaxaca?

But more often than not, they go like this:
Them: (catching pace with me) "Hola."
Me: - Looking at them without saying anything. -
Them: Are you here for vacations?
Me: No. I live here.
Them: What do you do?
Me: I have a job. That's why I live here.
Them: Where did you learn Spanish?
Me: Good question.
Them: Where do you live?
Me: Here.
Them: - laughing because I'm being difficult. -
Me: - still walking -
Them: You're really a beautiful woman.

This typically ends in a proposition of some sort. Am I interested in going to a hotel? Do I want to hook up somewhere? Do I live alone?

What I want...is to walk down the street...in peace.

I realize this sounds like a silly thing to continue to be angry about. But, unless you have to deal with it on a regular basis, you don't really get it. A lot of people here don't get it. I was recently walking down the street with a male friend, local to the area, and out of seemingly nowhere he exasperatedly said, "Is this what it's like for you every time you leave the house?"

And all he was witnessing were the stares. I was walking with him, so no one was going to say anything to me.

Before I could answer his question, he answered it himself saying that it's probably 10x worse when I'm by myself, and that he'd never realized it was so bad.

- - - - -

This is the last I'll complain about it for a while. But sometimes it destroys your confidence. It shakes you. It makes you question everything about yourself. The way you're dressed, the way you walk, the way you hold your head up. It makes you hyper aware of everything.

You always have an audience.

But I have found that if you make a really ridiculous face at people when they say something crass, they often don't know what to do with themselves, or how to interact with you.

And it's hilarious.

A No Good, Very Bad Day. / El Día Horrible y Molesto

I woke up on the right side of the bed.
Me desperté de buen humor.

I had some water, got some work done, put my clothes on and decided to check out a little "natural" foods store by my house in the hopes that I would encounter rice flour and buckwheat groats (to make myself some pancakes, obviously).

Tomé agua, trabajé unas horas, me puse la ropa, y decidí caminar a una tienda cerca de mi casa (trigo verde) de "cosas naturales" con la esperanza de que encontraría harina de arroz y buckwheat (para cocinar pancakes sin gluten).

I wasn't holding my breath about the rice flour and buckwheat, so it wasn't a huge surprised that the store didn't carry it.

Entendí que la probabilidad de encontrar estas cosas no fue probable y por eso no estaba sorprendida que la tiendo no las tenía. 

But, everything else that happened next was kind of annoying.

Pero todo lo que ocurrió después me hizo agravada.

1.) I bought my soy milk, soy sauce, and alegría with 500 pesos. I realize this is a bitch move, but the bank gives you these large, annoying bills...and you have to break them somewhere...

1.) Compré leche de soya, salsa de soya, y alegría con 500 pesos. Lo sé. Entiendo que no hay nadie en todo el país que quiere cambiar 500 pesos. Pero que voy a hacer cuando el banco me los da? Tengo que usar los de alguna manera...

2.) The cashier tried to shortchange me by $200 pesos. Then she acted mad when I requested the rest of my change.  How many extranjeros has she short changed? And seriously, doesn't she understand that "math is a universal language?"

2.) La cajera trató de robar $200 pesos de mi cambio. Y fue ella que se puso enojada cuando le dije que quería mi cambio en completo. Eso me hizo pensar en cuantas personas la mujer ha engañado...y ¿no puede entender que los números son universales? 

That really, really bothered me. But I tried to just shake it off, and headed to el mercado.

Eso realmente me molestó, pero recuperé, y me fui al mercado.

3.) Every vendor in the market was in a bad mood (save the one woman who I buy bananas from. She's always in a good mood). They were all upset about something (maybe it's the influx of 5 million foreigners, half of them being demanding, rude, English speaking snobs). Or maybe the traffic because of the Guelagetza had them all bothered...because there were quite a number of vendors setting up pretty late for a Saturday morning.

3.) Cada vendedor en el mercado era de mal humor (con una excepción: la mujer que me vende los plátanos. Siempre está de buen humor). Todos eran molestos por algo (probablemente los 5 millones de extranjeros en la ciudad, la mayoría sin las capacidades de hablar Español). O...tal vez por el tráfico (debido a La Guelagetza). 

Anyway, that was annoying too...because they're typically all so happy. I didn't like that they had been having bad mornings, too.

Eso me molestó también porque típicamente todos los vendedores están felices! No me gustaba que estuvieran teniendo problemas también. 

4.) On my way home, I was taunted by these two young men. As I am a "tall" white girl living in Oaxaca, I am no stranger to being whistled, "chutched," and called at (or chased down, spoken to, etc.). But because I had already had an annoying morning, these two guys really got under my skin. They followed me down the street, trying to think of things to say about me.

4.) Mientras estaba caminando a mi casa, 2 jóvenes decidieron molestarme con tonterías. Ya que estoy una mujer "alta" y viviendo en Oaxaca, estoy acostumbrada de escuchar chiflas, "ch-ch", y otras cosas (o tener alguien perseguirme, o hablar conmigo, etc.). Pero, como había estado teniendo una mañana molesta, estos jóvenes me hicieron muy enojado. Me estaban persiguiendo y diciendo cosas groseras. 

"Oh, she thinks she's sooooo cool."
"Hey, aren't you going to turn around and flirt with us?"
"Oye, let me just touch one of them (referring to my chest)."

"Oye, ella piensa que ella es súper genial."
"Chica, no vas a coquetear con nosotros?"
"Oye, solo quiero tocar una! (en referencia a mi pecho)." 

So I gave them the finger.
And they laughed.
And that made me mad that they were laughing.

Y los "dí el dedo."
Y se me burlaron.
Y eso me hizo enojada que estaban riéndome. 

5.) When I got home, I realized I forgot to buy tostadas. I had to go back out, despite wanting to crawl into a cave and die.

5.) Cuando llegué a casa, recordé que había olvidado de comprar tostados. Tenía que salir otra ves, a pesar de querer esconderme en una cueva y morirme. 

6.) I got cat called by no less than 10 different men ON ONE BLOCK.

6.) 10+ hombres me dijeron cosas molestas, todos en la misma cuadra. 

7.) A man cut me off in line at the store, and then apologized profusely when he heard me speaking Spanish with the cashier. What the heck?! So, now because I speak Spanish I deserve my place in line?!

7.) Un hombre le tomó mi lugar en la fila en la tienda, pero después de escucharme hablar en Español con el cajero, decidió ofrecer disculpas. ¿Cómo crees? ¿Ahora sabes que puedo hablar español y por eso me vas a ofrecer disculpas?

That bothered me.
And I haven't gone out since (well, I did go running...but my house is attached to the gym). Speaking of which...

Eso me molestó.
Y no he salido de la casa desde la mañana (pues, corrí en el gimnasio, pero es adjuntado a mi casa)...Ah, eso me recuerda... 

8.) The dueño of my depa (apartment) spent 10 minutes lecturing me about how I need to eat more, especially as a vegan, especially because he never sees me eating, especially because I run. He asked me why I don't eat that much, and I said "I haven't been that hungry."

8.) El dueño de mi depa me habló durante 10 minutes, y me estaba diciendo que necesito comer más porque nunca me ve con comida, y especialmente porque me gusta correr. Me preguntó por qué no como mucho, y le dije que no he tenido mucho hambre. 

He looked at me skeptically.
That bothered me.

No me creyó.
Eso me molestó.

9.) When I decided to cook, my chickpeas had gone slightly sour. That wasn't a huge deal, as I had ample other things to prepare myself. But I love chickpeas, and so it made me sad.

9.) Decidí cocinar y descubrí que mis chickpeas se estropearon. Eso no fue algo muy grande ya que tenía muchas otras cosas que cocinar...pero me gustan los chickpeas, y por eso me puso triste. 

So there you have it, the story of my no good, very bad day (so far). Perhaps it will get better, perhaps it will get worse.

Bueno, aquí tienes mi historia del día horrible y molesto. Quizá vaya a mejorar. Quizá vaya a empeorar. 

Either way, it is what it is. Writing about it is cathartic, and reading it to myself makes me chuckle a little. So I suppose everything is fine, if I've ended up here with a smile on my face.

De cualquier manera, es lo que es. Escribir sobre estas cosas es catártico...y leerlo a mí misma me hacer reír un poco. Supongo que cosas no son tan malas si estoy sonriendo. 

The end.

A Love Letter

I love Oaxaca.

I realize that this isn't a huge secret. But it is the truth. I just love it here.
I've been sick since before I got here...but do I care?

No.
How can I?
I'm in love with Oaxaca, and who can be sick when they are in love?

There's enough out there for me to enjoy that I find a way to conquer whatever it is that ails me, and put myself in the sun. On the terrace. In the streets.

I've been here a week, but it feels like forever....in the best way. Like the pieces finally fit. Like somehow, I was always here.

TCKs will understand this. For example, I was walking down the street thinking today about normal things: groceries, my plans for holidays, doctors appointments, hanging out with friends..

...and at no point did I stop to think, "In the next place I live, I'll...."

Nope. That door is closed for now. There is no next place I'd rather live. Not yet. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next April.

I suppose I never stopped to think about what beautiful feels like.
But it feels like this.

And I hope someday, you find it too.

The Angry Girl Rant.

I am not a cautionary tale.

I am your neighbor, your cousin, your daughter, friend, niece, sister, aunt... and I am an independent thinker, and I'm living my life as authentically as I can.

Unfortunately, there are those who exist in my life who find my way of thinking and living to be less than what they would imagine is acceptable.

Well, I'm just going to take off my filter and say one thing to you (*you* being a general, multiple bodied *you*):

I don't care what you think. The fact that you are putting my life under your microscope only tells me one thing: you want out of your own, and into mine. Otherwise, you wouldn't be meddling. You wouldn't have things to say.

Your disappointing behavior is bleeding jealousy everywhere.

My honest thoughts are...if you can't support me and/or at least try to understand the decisions I have made, am making, and will make...then you're just looking for one more thing to distract you from your own unfulfilling lot; I refuse to be that person for you.

And now, here's my unsolicited advice from me to you: wake up tomorrow, and do something different. Ask the questions you've been too afraid to ask. Do the thing you've been too afraid to do. Change the life you're tired of living.

But stay the hell away from mine until you've come to an adult understanding of what it means to live and let live.