Hey. Do you want to know something? Those stereotypes you have, well they’re kinda useless. So I suggest you put them away, in a box, under your bed or in a closet where they can collect dust. Better yet, just burn them. What am I rambling on about? Well, stereotypes limit you. They
blind you. They often induce fear of other people, places, or the like. Mexico? Yeah right, you say. Only in a sweet resort on the beach, you say. Why? Oh because you’ve bought into a load of crap. I mean, seriously? A resort? That’s what you call “traveling to Mexico”? Well, you’re wrong. That’s not Mexico. Yea, I don’t really care where this place is on your map. It’s not Mexico. So while you’re sipping on your cold margaritas in your comfortable beachfront cabana with all your amenities and room service, I’m going to go over here to catch a bus back to my homestay. It’s a bumpy ride and I’m sitting next to a man with gel in his hair, but you know what? It’s all good because I’m more in Mexico than you are. Swine flu? C’mon. Swine flu in Mexico is soooo winter/spring 2009. Get over it. Drug trafficking? Puhlease. Go a few blocks the wrong way in any big city in the United States and you’re bound to see sketchier things than you would by visiting, actually going to Mexico. Just like anywhere else in the world, use your street smarts and common sense. Don’t have any? Go buy some. They sell everything in Walmart these days.
Anyway, look.
Look.
Do you see how beautiful Mexico is? It’s not your typical Speedy Gonzalez in a burrito. It’s pretty ribbons in pretty girls hair standing around in their pretty dresses in the Zocalo in Oaxaca city. It’s the stacks of sugar skulls and loafs of Dead Bread. It’s the many, varying, sometimes surprising smells in the market. The smell of spices, raw meat, cloth, chocolate, leather, wood. The smell of people working, eating, observing, laughing, talking. The unfamiliar landscape of short bushes and shrubs, cacti, hills, mountains, trickling rivers trying to find their way. Go a couple hours in one direction and there are big trees, more green, chill winds and rain. You see a lot when you sit in the bus for hours upon hours, looking out the window. You see a lot when you mix and mingle in town. You don’t see much just sitting in your hotel or napping which, I’m afraid to admit, I myself have done. And what did I miss while I slept? Probably more little kids asking for “un peso, un peso”; a band striking up some song in the middle of the day in the Zocalo; more cups of hot chocolate and free chocolate samples. These are only some things I can imagine I miss by not putting myself out there. God knows I could have missed a chance to see someone or something really interesting, or even not so interesting. But at least it would have been a chance to
see.
To see. This verb not only refers to the good ole’ eyeballs. It can refer to the mind, to perception. What can you learn to see? Well, if you delve into the world of
Hispanic literature, you’ll learn to see
lo fantastico cohabiting the same space and time as
lo cotidiano; the past, present, and future blurring their lines of demarcation to form space with no time; life sitting side by side with death. And everything is so much more magical this way. I see it. I
see it. And it’s a beautiful view. Come have a real look.
Do you see how beautiful Mexico is? It’s not your typical Speedy Gonzalez in a burrito. It’s pretty ribbons in pretty girls hair standing around in their pretty dresses in the Zocalo in Oaxaca city. It’s the stacks of sugar skulls and loafs of Dead Bread. It’s the many, varying, sometimes surprising smells in the market. The smell of spices, raw meat, cloth, chocolate, leather, wood. The smell of people working, eating, observing, laughing, talking. The unfamiliar landscape of short bushes and shrubs, cacti, hills, mountains, trickling rivers trying to find their way. Go a couple hours in one direction and there are big trees, more green, chill winds and rain. You see a lot when you sit in the bus for hours upon hours, looking out the window. You see a lot when you mix and mingle in town. You don’t see much just sitting in your hotel or napping which, I’m afraid to admit, I myself have done. And what did I miss while I slept? Probably more little kids asking for “un peso, un peso”; a band striking up some song in the middle of the day in the Zocalo; more cups of hot chocolate and free chocolate samples. These are only some things I can imagine I miss by not putting myself out there. God knows I could have missed a chance to see someone or something really interesting, or even not so interesting. But at least it would have been a chance to see.
To see. This verb not only refers to the good ole’ eyeballs. It can refer to the mind, to perception. What can you learn to see? Well, if you delve into the world of Hispanic literature, you’ll learn to see lo fantastico cohabiting the same space and time as lo cotidiano; the past, present, and future blurring their lines of demarcation to form space with no time; life sitting side by side with death. And everything is so much more magical this way. I see it. I see it. And it’s a beautiful view. Come have a real look.
Wow, you made my week Sam!! If more people would think like you, we'd have a better world for sure!!
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