Chiapas de mi corazón

For this blog post I'd like to share a particular day during our trip that really stuck with me. 

We started the day in the town of San Cristobal de Las Casas where we stayed in a quaint hotel with an amazing hot breakfast buffet that served frijoles negros grown in the same town. On the mini bus we encountered people from different parts of Mexico; mostly from New Zeland and Leslie from Panama. Our daylong adventure started at the Agua Azul waterfalls but because of the rainy season, were muddy and not blue at all! A bit of a bummer but still a fun place. The second stop was the Misol-ha Waterfall which I felt had really set the tone for our trip. I enjoyed the waterfall from inside a little grotto where the mist of the waterfall covered my skin, then my hair and clothes. We hiked until reaching the near top and this is where we discovered that Leslie from Panama was just as adventurous as Miguel and I as he took pictures from crazy angles like todo un professional. 

The next stop was across the state to Palenque, where we were going to see some of the oldest Mayan ruins in the Americas. We were able to go inside where we imagined what it would be like to be 4 feet tall like many Mayans were as we crouched down to be able to fit in some parts of the pyramids. It was so amazing to see the work and homes of previous civilizations, and learn about their beliefs. Did you know that to distinguish yourself as royalty in Mayan culture, your head was wrapped as a small baby to form a cone shape so that others could see that you were closer to the gods and therefore royalty? Iknowright?! We saw the tombs of previous Mayan leaders and admired artwork that was created by our ancestors centuries ago. 

After returning to the bus from what seemed to be an alternate universe we had dinner at a mom and pop shop where we had tacos and headed back to San Cristobal. 

The first day was filled with all these new things and an overall amazing experience. 

The next day our guide had to take an alternate route because there were some people blocking the road. There was a manifestation of native people that didn't want the government to take their land, as a sign of protest they weren't letting anyone in. 

So there it was. Perhaps the alternate universe wasn't so alternate. Instead it now coexists with with others that don't respect the land and rights of the indigenous people. I couldn't help but think of the rest of Mexico (and the Americas), the bloody history against natives that seemed so far away yet right before my eyes. 

Pero el pueblo se defiende. 

If you get a chance to go to Chiapas visit the Zapatista collectives and donate to the cause, as visitors we can only understand their struggle and stand in solidarity but we let them know that they are not invisible and that across borders they have support. 

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Background: In September of 2012, my husband Miguel and I traveled to the state of Chiapas; a first for the both of us. The rich history and culture that remains in this state through several centuries is definitely part of the experience. We went for my husbands 30th birthday, which was during a particularly difficult time for us. We had begun living in different countries in December of 2011, got married in Aguascalientes, Mexico on April 20, 2012 and then I flew back to the states on April 26th without him. In a lot of ways Chiapas was our honeymoon, birthday and overall celebration of persistence. I am anxious for the day that Miguel and I can return with our future children so that they can befriend Chamula children and understand this important part of their culture. 

Aventuras en La Huasteca Potosina

One of the most beautiful weeks during my 2013 trip to Mexico, was spent in the state of San Luis Potosi's huasteca region. 

Starting the journey from Aguascalientes in a bronze 2-door Chevy hatchback my husband Miguel Angel, his sister Marisela, her husband Leonardo and I rode toward the state of San Luis and for several miles all we saw was vast and open road. 

La Media Luna 

After driving for about four hours and having numb butt cheeks; our first stop was at La Media Luna in the town of Rio Verde.  Never had I seen a spring of water so crystal clear with a turqoise hue that made me forget the stomach ache I had and run to get my bathing suit. This is where we met my husband's tocallo or name-same, Miguel Angel.  A middle aged Mexican man that greeted us and told us about his life having grown up just minutes away from La Media Luna Springs.  He told us that the water had an excess of certain minerals and that many locals believed them to be healing waters.  Many tourists scuba dive in this spring since it is quite deep and as you go down further you can see the plants with many different colors.  It is a good place for people scuba diving for the first time since there aren't any strong currents or vermin, the water is warm and very clear.  We stayed several hours, swam, ate and conversed with locals.  We had to leave before dark so that we could make it to our next stop where we were planning to camp and stay the night.  

Tamasopo

When we arrived in the town of Tamasopo we bought beer to cool down from the humid heat that had all of us feeling extremely sweaty and sticky.  After that pit stop all we wanted to do was find a campsite and settle in.  Luckily we found one where the owner of the site was from none other than the city of Aguascalientes where we were coming from!  He was very hospitable and even helped us set up our tent.  By then the mosquitoes had begun to eat me alive.  For dinner that night we didn't have the most fancy meal, but we had such and wonderful day that even those instant noodles and roasted corn tasted great.  That night as soon as my face hit the pillow I fell asleep.  At some point in the middle of the night we heard a loud noise, which to several of us (for some reason) sounded like a propeller. Miguel asked, "What is that loud noise? It sounds like it's getting closer!"  Then Marisela said, "It's a helicopter!" As soon as she said that we all bolted up out of our sleeping bags and began to run around inside of the tent.  After about a minute of insanity we heard a train whistle. Leonardo said, "It's a train." At that point we all felt stupid but were too tired to talk about it so we went back to sleep. The next morning we had breakfast at a nearby mom and pop shop where they sold quesadillas and fresh squeezed orange juice, quite an upgrade from our dinner.  We ate a lot, since we knew it was going to be a long and busy day.

Puente de Dios

In the same town of Tamasopo, we went to the main attraction which is Puente de Dios.  You can expect quite a hike and to go through a series of stairs- downward to get to the waterfall and then to the area where you can swim.  The current was strong so there were some ropes that people could hold on to so that youdon't  get tired so quickly.  The turqoise water is breathtaking and on the other side of the roped area there is a tunnel like cave, if you cross it you then reach a more serene area where there is no current and you can swim and dive into the water since it is quite deep. We stayed there for a few hours until our fingers and toes were pruney and we got very hungry. We hiked up what seemed to be a thousand rock stairs and headed to the campsite to pack up our stuff and head on to our last stop. We left Tamasopo very greatful that we had met such hospitable people and had a lot of fun in just a day and a half.     

Xilitla 

After 3 days on the road, we had reached our final destination: the town of Xilitla which is located on the South Eastern part of that state of San Luis Potosi. Here we visited several places- all of which I recommend. After getting to know the town of Xilitla and eating some charcoal grilled chicken we settled into our Tipi at Casa Caracol, where we were going to stay a few nights. After that we wanted to swim so we went to Las Pozas where we quickly found out that in May, the water is ice cold! That wasn't a deterrent for Miguel who was in the water before we even had a chance to think about it. I passed on taking a dip, besides it was very close to where we were staying- I figured that if I changed my mind we could go back. The Gardens of Edward James were such an amazing place. I believe we paid an enterance fee but it was very worth it. You can expect to see abstract and surreal structures from concrete, metal, wood and of cousrse beautiful plants throughout the gardens with hidden waterfalls at different points, a great place to take photos.  We later found out that this was the setting of Mexican singer Yuri's "Invencible" music video. That afternoon we drove down the road to check out La Cuevas del Salitre we hiked downward to reach the bottom of the cave. While Miguel ran down, Marisela and I took our time and to be honest I was freaking out at some points where the rocks turned into dirt and it was very steep. I would definitely say that this hike isn't for everyone- if you love adventure, have decent balance and don't mind getting a lot of dirt under your fingernails then you'll love it! If not, stay on the outside part of the cave, you can take some very cool photos or be prepared to take your time going down like I did. The next day we went to las Cuevas y senderos Mantetzulel. We hiked for about 40 minutes passing the homes of people who spoke the local dialect and some also spoke Spanish we heard a mix of both; a very cool experience. Throughout our hike several ladies offered to sell us vanilla, cinnamon and mushroom tacos. The hike was a bit tiring but very much worth the sweat. The caves were vast and very dark at certain junctures where it felt freezing, and you could see the ridges in the rock formation which showed how old the caves were as was explained to us by the 17-year-old tour guide David who spoke both the local dialect and Spanish and was very helpful in being our interpreter with some of the people on the mountain. It was awesome and inspiring to see how preserved their land and culture was. 

Tamul 

Our last stop, as we cumulatively had about $1,000 pesos left was the town of Tamul where the main attraction was the waterfall or Cascadas de Tamul. We took a pontoon boat from the bay into the area where the waterfall was, the water was a bit brown and quite murky but there were a lot of people from all over Mexico since we went on a Saturday and it was a very fun boat ride. Once we got to the waterfall we were told that at that time of the year (mid May) it was quite dry so we didn't see much of a waterfall which was disappointing but also a bit expected since we were told the same thing at Puente de Dios where during other times of the year there are many waterfalls. So in Tamul we swam in el cenote for a few hours until we had to get back on the pontoon boat to head back. At that point we knew we were very low on funds and the nearest ATM was over an hour away. So we negotiated with a local restaurant owner and he rented us two rooms at his adjacent inn at $150 pesos each and since we had bought skirt steak at a local butcher shop but he shop he offered to cook it for us and just charged us only for rice. We encountered an angel is what we all thought, he asked that we just tell people to continue to visit the huasteca region and respect the people and the land that was enough for him.  To this man and the wonderful people of Tamul I dedicate this blog.  

All in all, an amazing experience. If you are planning to visit Mexico for the first time or have only gone to where your relatives live please don't think that Mexico is just Cancun and other such overrated tourist attractions. I wholeheartedly recommend visiting the Huasteca Region in the state of San Luis Potosí; a magical place that will leave you in awe of its natural resources and wonderful people. 

NOPALERA

Nopalera le dicen.

Nopalera por India.

Nopalera por fuerte y filosa. 

El nopal existe en su frente, y cuando tus palabras intentan tumbarla recuerda que ella existe porque resiste.

El nopal sigue con retoños a través de los siglos

...y tu rechazas su belleza sencilla. 

Con su resplandor te dice a ti y al mundo: nopalera yo soy por mi país de origen, y también en mi país natal.

Nopalera yo soy.

*This poem was inspired by my great grandmother Maria, a woman who spoke Nahuatl or “Mexicano” before learning Spanish and who taught my mom that indigenous is beautiful, no matter what anyone says. Generations later, in different times and in a different country, the indigenous blood in my veins remains hers, it remains nopalera.

Tijuana

Our experience in Tijuana was brief since we only went for a day trip.  We encountered an interesting mix of people, and the stories were very captivating.  For a lot of reasons people tell horror stories about border towns.  When Miguel and I talked to people about our story they almost immediately shared theirs, some people even spoke to us in English. We all had a common thread- we were all so close yet so far from los uniteds.  

I most identified with a young couple we met in Rosarito- the woman was a mother of one and had been deported from the United States 4 years prior and now called Tijuana home.  Originally from La Paz, she relocated to be closer to her partner who was Chicano that lived in southern California.  They were doing the back and forth thing like Miguel and I.  All around Tijuana we met many people who had been deported and instead of going back to their home states they stay hopeful, que la segunda vendra pronto. 

Inspired by my Tijuana experience I wrote this poem: 

The limbo land that is Tijuana 

Los burreros con historia 

Los cholos y los santos 

Los Xoloitzcuintles con su fuerza Mexicana 

De este lado también hay sueños. Creías que solo tu podías soñar? 

La diferencia es que mis sueños no tienen barreras, ni fronteras, ni pobreza. 

Solo necesitan tiempo- muchos la llaman 'la segunda oportunidad' 
para hacer el metamorfosis y pasar a esto que le llaman realidad.  

De este lado también hay grandes sueños. 

Inspiracion: Durante mi primer viaje a esta ciudad fronteriza, Tijuana me enseño que las fronteras no son malas. Son innecesarias y arbitrarias y los malos son los que las admiran y encima de estas fallas hacen bardas para "protegerse" de los habitantes originales de este continente. 

DE AQUI Y DE AYA

Defining our individual identity is a different journey for everyone.

From what I recall, I have struggled with defining my identity since I moved to Wisconsin.  When I was 7 years old I moved to a town of about 7,000 people called Lake Geneva.  I moved to this town from the city where I was born, East Los Angeles where I attended a bilingual Montessori school that I loved, where I had a lot of friends, and amazing teachers. In L.A. being bilingual was the norm; blending Mexican and American culture was the way of life.  When I moved to Lake Geneva I had to speak only English because I was one of two Latinos in my entire class and the only one that spoke Spanish.  It was a culture shock to say the least, so I assimilated to my new environment.  I spoke Spanish only at home, and watched movies, read books, and magazines that had nothing to do with Chicano culture or any culture that wasn't White.  I did this because that was my environment but also because I wanted to fit in.  When I was in high school and began liking boys I realized that I was more interested in boys that were Latino.  Then came the second major battle with my identity.

Looking non-white in a predominantly White culture can bring a slew of identity and self esteem questions.  I couldn’t help but think that no matter how I acted, how smart I thought I was, I still wasn’t like everyone else, and racial microagressions by my peers reminded me of this nearly everyday. These comments ranged from “Wow, you speak really good English, how did you learn it?” to “You’re actually very pretty for a Mexican girl.” Well gee, I was born and raised in the U.S. so maybe that’s why I speak English and I’m sorry that I don’t fit your fucked up and unrealistic stereotype that Mexican girls aren’t pretty. When I was that age I didn’t really question these comments, because I didn’t want a confrontation to result in me feeling like even more of an outcast; microagressions like these were (and are) destructive, they made me feel (and I’m sure many other young POC) like I didn’t belong.   I went through phases of not accepting myself, a bit of self-loathing and feeling like I would never fit in.  As if our pimply tween years are not enough of a mess, add on top of that believing that you need to hide your ethnicity as best you can, so it's not all up in someone's face or risk getting called a Taco.

But let's be real, tacos are delicious, and being Chicana is just as badass. Which takes me into my real formative years...college.  I'm skipping High School mostly because I did a lot of stupid shit that helped like 0% in the search of my identity.

Miguel came into my life at an interesting time.  You know when people say, “don’t rush into a relationship, find yourself and then you’ll know what you really want.” It’s true, you need it to be able to value, have faith and love yourself before you can give that to any one else.  I am my own person, and I love that. I am strong, resilient, passionate, smart and compassionate.  I was this before Miguel, because I loved myself I was able to bring an added strength into our partnership.  This is what has made us work, and has helped me continue to grow as an individual.

We met in college. Miguel represented in many ways what I tried to hide about myself when I was growing up, not because I didn't like it, but because I felt like that was my survival tactic. He was paisa, barely spoke English, was undocumented, yet he was the most fascinating and secure person I had ever met. From Miguel, I learned something very important: I deserve to be free and free means discovering and being completely in love with the mujer with a hell of a fighting spirit that I am. No more questions asked.

What's past is prologue.

Don't get me wrong; I acknowledge that I had a lot of opportunities, and privileges as I was growing up, and that the journey of finding myself to some people sounds like first-world problems type bullshit.  However, I've learned that it's about using the negativity and oppression to then fuel your ambitions to educate yourself (believe me I don't just mean school), and give opportunities to other POC when you are in a position to do so.  It's about creating change to systems that oppress us instead of conforming to them.  On this journey one of the most important things that I learned is that staying true to your roots is imperative to loving yourself. Just think about how many sacrifices have been made by our parents/grandparents so that our lives could be better.  Pero, we still have a lot of work to do.

“Until we can all present ourselves to the world in our completeness, as fully and beautifully as we see ourselves naked in our bedrooms, we are not free.”*

For those that have ever felt that you're not from here and also not quite from the motherland- take a step forward and challenge that! We are from here AND there. Somos de aqui y de aya.

It's taken me 26 years but I now realize that I stand for equality and am an arduous fighter alongside womyn that ever thought they had to hate themselves while making a futile effort to be loved by others.


* Merle Woo, This Bridge Called by Back: Letter to Ma (Watertown: Persephone Press, 1981), p. 141

PARA EL SIGUIENTE MUNDIAL

Seremos más viejos 

Pero no creo que más sabios...

Habremos visitado más rincones del mundo 

y lamentando ni un sólo segundo. 

Para el siguiente mundial no importara en que país estemos 

La vida dejara de dividirse en cuatro. 

Dejara de importar el fútbol-

Aunque sea por un segundo. 

Porque estaremos juntos. 

Piel a piel... Recorriendo el mundo.

La luz será una realidad,

La oscuridad nos dejara.

Los países del mundo seguirán en sus guerras;

Frias, ardientes y la revolución a toda máquina.

Pero tu conmigo. 

Ahí en nuestro espacio donde el chaos deja de existir. 

Y yo contigo. 

Piel a piel recorriendo lo que quede de este mundo, y del más allá. 

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Inspiration: During the last world cup in 2014, my husband Miguel was taking me to the airport so that I could catch my plane from Mexico back to Chicago, the most sorrowful goodbyes I've endured even remembering them makes my eyes foggy. We had to live in different countries while we were getting his papers, so he could come back, but almost 3 years into being long distance, hope and patience were hanging by a thread. Believe me, the last of our problems was whether Hollands shot was a penalty or not...

You know you're Mexican when...

This. All of this. 

 1. The closest thing you have ever gotten to a massage is a  sobada.

2. If you know who Paco, Miclo and Cruzito are.  #aTodaMother








 

3. There are at least a few people who you know only by their apodo but not their actual name.
















 4. You have used limon (or have seriously thought about it) when you run out of hair gel. 

5. If sal, chile, and limon are in your regular diet...how else do people eat pepinos?! 















6. If you have been warned que te va a dar un aire, you don't question what it actually means, you just don't go out with wet hair and you always take a sweater. 

8. If you know the wrath of la chancla voladora.

7. If you our your siblings wore this para que no les hicieran ojo.






9. When you finally mastered the art of how to calentar las tortillas. 

10. If you had to limpiar los frijoles because your mom was classy and she made them old school.