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April 24, 2007
Malas Pesadillas
So I’ve been working like a dog because it’s the end of the semester and everything seems to be wrapping up all too quickly (just as it does in Michigan). I’ve written most of my essays now, which are in the hands of Tomas Ramon, my Literatura Latinoamericana maestro. He will be conferencing with me about my writing later on in the week.
Despite the fact that it’s the end of the semester, our classroom discussions have not come to a halt. Today in Antropologia Mexicana we had a great debate about the role of a minority culture in a Westernized society. Eugenia, our maestra, read to us an article posted in the Yucatan Diario in 2000, about a conflict between a Mayan and a Meridian:
A Mayan woman had been working as a cleaning lady in the house of a Meridian for four years. One day, while she was working, she stole money from the kitchen table of the house in which she was working. The Meridian woman noticed that her money was missing and called the police to come and arrest the Mayan. Upon their arrival and the questioning that followed, the Mayan woman claimed that it was a special holiday for the Mayans; it was a traditional custom to take money left in sight and exchange it for bread or other grocery items. She claimed that that’s exactly what she was going to do.
This raises the question: where do we draw the line between being acceptant of other people’s cultures and respecting the laws of a society. Clearly here in Merida, it’s illegal to steal money. But should the Meridian woman have called the police? If the Mayan woman claimed that she was unaware that stealing in Merida was illegal, should she be punished for her actions? Should she be punished for trying to carry out what her culture dictates?
In any event, we had this great debate in class today. It was interesting not only because it raised questions of cultural identity, but also because it raised questions of the judicial system in Mexico. And of course, I was fascinated listening to differences in court regulations/procedures. In fact, there is a current national proposal to hire “cultural interpreters” for the court room to stand alongside the “language interpreters”. Mexico is a country of many cultures—many of them very obscure and removed from mainstream society.
One of the counterarguments went as such: If a Mexican were to go to the United States and begin working, what should be done about it? What if the Mexican claims that he was unaware that you needed to become a citizen first before working? What if the Mexican claimed that in Mexico, the culture dictates that anyone is able to work in whatever sector they wish, and he was trying to practice is own cultural customs? From this, the “doors to the immigration debate” opened up.
I did quite a bit of talking in the debate – also to make some of the points in my international relations paper clear.
When I returned home, I ate a quick meal and then decided to take a siesta. I’ve been tired lately from all the work as well as the hot sun. Julito came up to my room and asked me why I was taking a siesta and why I was so tired. I didn’t know what to say, so I told him that I had “malas pesadillas” (bad dreams) the night before and that I didn’t sleep at all.
He asked me what I dreamed about and I told him that it had to do something with Batman chasing me.
Without warning, he got down in front of my hammock and told me he was going to give me a prayer-clinic and show me how to ask god for good dreams; clearly, as he told me (if I was having a bad dream about Batman), “Con Dios, no le caigo bien” (god doesn’t like me very much).
He showed me exactly what to do and I thanked him for his help and then, he disappeared downstairs. I thought about why I didn’t sleep well last night.
I went to the Vacqueria, I remember that. Well, first I went to El Hoyo, the café to do some work. Erich met me there and we went to the Vacqueria, a traditional show in the center of town. I like seeing the traditional shows—not only because they’re free—but because it’s an important and easy way to see what Meridian culture is really like. The woman in their ipils and the men in their traditional playeras went dancing around the centro; they did 6 step dances and 8 step dances, some with water bottles twirling around on their heads and woman twirling around baskets of flowers… it was nice to see…
And I think when I got home, I just thought a lot about the end of the semester. Things have been pretty quiet here; everyone’s working to finish up their essays/projects/exams. And what’s going to happen afterwards? Everybody will be headed their own way… I thought about the great Mexican friends that I made—Carla, Deanella, Fernando, MaJo and others. Will I ever speak to them again? And I thought a lot about the students in the other program that I’ve come to befriend—Erich, Will, Dayna, Louisa, Melissa, Molly, Rachael, Matt and Alec.
Thinking about their program, I was left really bitter about my own program—especially after some of the uncomfortable meetings we've had together. Will we ever speak again? While I’m friends with a lot of the other students in the other group, it’s more important now more than ever that I respect my place as a Rutgers student here in Yucatan. They have their own end-of-the year graduation party and we have—well, ?. But I’m not going to let these little things get to me…I should just be concentrating on my work; that’s all.
So I think that all this thinking is what left me really tired this morning when I woke up. What’s going to happen in our remaining few weeks? What kinds of things to I have to look forward to? When will I finish all my work?
I’ll just be taking one step at a time. And for some reason, I hear the famous words of the song by the mexicana cantante Selena running through my mind as I finish this entry…
Posted by jlsumich at April 24, 2007 06:37 PM