« The Disneyland Phenomenon | Main | Untitled 2 »
March 26, 2007
Cristina, Queen of Colombia (or “The Awakening”)
I used to get along well with Cristina, the Colombian girl in my Rutgers group. I really thought it was cool how she was raised by two Colombian parents but grew up in Korea. But recent events this week have shown me a different side of Cristina’s character—something I’m not sure that I’m too fond of.
If you’re wondering about one of my last entries (I’m Not A Pushover…) it has everything to do with her and my upcoming trip to Chiapas with Erich. Erich and I booked this trip for over a month already and we had everything settled—the hotel accommodations, our itinerary, etc.
.......(this ommitted part of the blog has been set to ´´private setting´´) .......
In New York, we call people like that free-loaders.
We ended up having some problems deciding what to do, but in the end, I settled it. Cristina is not coming with us. Erich and I are going together, just the two of us, as planned. The settlement really has nothing to do with Cristina’s character—it has more to do with the principal of the matter. She is just as capable as any other extranjero student here and if she wanted to go on a trip to Chiapas, she had every opportunity to plan a more economical trip the way she wanted. So to rehash on an old entry, I’m not a pushover. Some things just don’t change no matter what country you’re in.
And this weekend reaffirmed my support for that decision. I went with a big group of kids (Erich and Cristina, included) to Frine’s grandmother’s house at Chabihau, a beach community about 45 minutes away from Progresso. We all took a bus from the centro on Saturday morning and made our way there together. And what was really cool was that we each got to bring our own hammocks for night-time.
My weekend at Chabihau was nice—certainly an experience. It’s a very impoverished beach community and the house we stayed in surprisingly hasn’t blown away yet in the wind. We all set up our hammocks and explored the area a bit.
By night-time, we build a camp-fire along the ocean front and toasted hot-dogs and sunchos. It was great to see everyone work together to build the fire and it turned out to be a really special time.
And then we began talking about life in the United States and our experiences here in Mexico. Cristina began on a tirade about her personal experiences here, not letting anyone really have a fair share in the conversation. Our discussion later turned a bit more philosophical, as we commented on the strong connection that the Mexican people have with Catholicism. Cristina announced to everyone that she broke from the Church because she’s been receiving “divine inspiration” (or something of the sort) from her boyfriend. Erich and I immediately picked up on her comments and we looked at each other. I chose to sit quietly and listen to everybody’s comments. Erich chose to argue Cristina’s beliefs.
The fact is, Cristina’s comments were strikingly odd—almost eerie, in fact. And it made me recall Daniel’s words weeks ago about being “balled and chained” in relationships. In a semi-prophetic, semi-stripper tone, Cristina told us how when she looks at her boyfriend, she receives omniscient knowledge, health, and motivation to continue living; after all, as she told us, her boyfriend is mere perfect.
When Erich challenged her beliefs and told her that nobody in this world is perfect (and that her decision to break from religion on account of a boyfriend was a shame), Cristina really got angry. She berated Erich for not talking to his girlfriend for 3 ½ hours a day like she talks to her boyfriend; she scolded him for not seeing the same “supernatural” qualities.
From a listener’s perspective, I must comment that Cristina’s situation seems quite unhealthy. Anyone that has to talk to a boyfriend or girlfriend 3 ½ hours a day from a foreign country seems to me like they are just insecure—like they just can’t make it on their own. Relationships shouldnt be meant to tie people down. They should be developed on mutual respect that two people have for one another.
.......(this ommitted part of the blog has been set to ´´private setting´´) .......
I’m quite happy and quite successful even though I don’t spend 3 ½ hours talking on the phone every night. I wouldn’t do this for anyone—friends or family.
And to be honest, I wouldn´t go around talking about my personal sex life either. Maybe I`m just modest, or maybe I just come with certain values, but I live my life by the rule : ``Whatever happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom``. A friend of mine in Michigan assured me that this outlook is not something to be ashamed of. And I thank him for his guidance...
Erich spoke to her a while about what finding god is all about and about what religion is able to offer a person. And I listened to Erich very carefully and agreed with him on every point that he brought up. I felt that it wasn’t my responsibility nor was it worth my time to try and break Cristina’s logic, but Erich went right for it, in a respectful and well-spoken way. And I listened VERY carefully to every exchange that the group made.
I think what upset me most about the conversation were Cristina´s comments that she made at the very end. It´s clear that she disagreed with Erich`s views and to be honest, her nonchalant attitude came off as being blunt and overly dramatic. But at the end, she made some sort of comment to Frine and Monica that if they were looking for the ``right guy`` maybe someone like Erich would come along their way. To me, this was like the climax of the whole situation. I could not have found Cristina to be more hypocritical, more overly sarcastic. And to be honest, I wasnt a fan of it. I dont know for sure if anyone else picked up on it and for Erich`s sake, Im hoping that he didnt think too much of it. I hope that he too learned a bit more about Cristina. The fact is, it`s not my place to ask.
After our group conversation, Erich, Rachael, and I sat by the fire and spoke a bit more about religion. And then Erich asked me a very profound question, something which came to me totally unexpected. He asked me what I think about when I go to synagogue and pray. He asked me why I go. What my personal beliefs are like.
And you know something; I’ve never been asked that before. Neither my parents nor my friends have ever asked me that question before. And I took a few seconds to think about my answer.
As strange as it may seem—as ironic as it may sound—my being here in Mexico, a Catholic country, has really made me identify with my Jewish faith like never before. Every time I go to church with my host family, I reaffirm and reassure myself of my Jewish religion and heritage and think about exactly what it means to be Jewish. And I think that the process is a really special thing—I think that it’s really interesting how through another religion, I can become more comfortable with my own.
Just as I’m big on diversity, I also find that it’s extremely important to learn about other religions. Because church or synagogue, Qu’ran or Jainism, we’re all people at the end of the day. Religion in my mind isn’t meant to divide. It’s meant to unite.
So when I answered Erich’s question, I thought about many of the ideas that have been running through my mind since I’ve been here in Mexico. And one such thing is the deep sense of community that I feel Judaism has to offer. There are no Jewish people here in Merida and therefore, every time that I go to Mass, and see the strength of the Christian community, I think of my own community back in the United States. I think of my Jewish community on the East coast—of my family, of my friends, and of those Jewish students in my town. And I think of my community at Michigan—at Hillel, at Chabad, and around campus.
And so I told him that when I go to synagogue, I think that I think of my community. Moreso than anything, I pray for my community—that we should all learn to become better people. I wish that we all learn to become more morally-sound, righteous, humble people. I know that this thought is idealistic, but it’s true. It may sound like something straight out of that middle school book we read, “Pay It Forward”; the fact is, the idea is a really sound one.
You see, nobody forces me to go to temple when I’m at Michigan—I go on my own behalf. And nobody forced me to work at Hillel—I chose that on my own behalf. And I could very easily lie to my family and friends and tell them that I do go when I don’t. But I don’t do that. It’s just not me.
My discussion with Erich and Rachael really opened up the doors to something much greater than I ever expected. I really do think about my community a lot—about those around me—and maybe that’s why I enjoy helping people so much and listening to their problems. I think for the first time I openly affirmed my faith in religion and the benefits that it has for a community. And for the first time, I really was unwavering about my position on Judaism.
As we sat the three of us, side by side in darkness, watching the moon over the open ocean water, we took turns listening to each other, respecting each other’s points over view. The conversation lasted for a long time. I felt really proud to be speaking in Mexico on behalf of my community. I felt really connected.
Like Erich and I agreed, from every bad in this world comes a good. I recalled my friend Stephanie’s statement on life: “All things,” she told me “are inherently good.”
And so no matter how off-base Cristina’s comments were, no matter how much I could not identify with her morals and values, about her thoughts on relationships and dating, academics and diversity and religion, something inherently good came out of such a bad, shameful conversation.
The ashes of Cristina’s comments ignited a spark in my own religious philosophy.
The three of us spoke well after the others were asleep and return to our hammocks, satisfied by what we learned from each other.
The next morning, we all got up and went to the beach. It was nice to be out in the sun and it was nice to just relax. There was no mention of the night before and I wondered if there was any lingering tension or unshared thoughts.
And as we were laying on the hot sand, I looked out into the open ocean water. I thought about what I had said the night before and I remained content.
Frine walked into the water. She kept walking and wading, deeper into the ocean water. Silently I watched and I thought of Kate Chopin’s “The Awakening”, a book we read last semester about Edna Pontellier, a depressed woman from Lousiana that kills herself by wading out into the open ocean and drowning. The woman believes she has married the man of her dreams but then finds out she has nothing left to live for.
Silently Frine walked further out in the sea, not realizing that anyone was watching her.
And then I wondered if Cristina would ever follow…
Posted by jlsumich at March 26, 2007 05:53 PM