Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Poesia es la consciencia de la Tierra.

February 17, 2009

  • Bus Station
  • 6:00 am Leave Quepos
  • 9:00 am arrive San Jose
  • Bank
  • Post Office
  • Lunch
  • 12:00 TICA Bus Station
  • 12:40 Leave SJO
  • 5:20 Nicaraguan Border
  • 6:30 PM leave border
  • 8:00 pm arrive Granada.

 

Poesia es la consciencia de la Tierra.

--theme for Festival de la Poesia

 

 

Buses

Food

Catch words

Soliciting

Nicknames

Toilets

Mexico

Personalized with religious imagery

Variety and ubiquity

Piche buey “guey”

Hawkers everywhere

Chilangos: Mexico City.

Public toilets, usually pay

Panama

Personalized with cartoons and graffiti

Comedores: cafeteria style. Little fresh fruit.

Carribean accent

Not solicitious

 

 

Costa Rica

Clean & simple. Little or no religious imagery

“Sodas”. Tasty not spicy. Fresh fruit. Great coffee.

“amor”

Not solicitious

Ticos

Public toilets are usually free

Nicaragua

Old school buses. Small dedications to God.

Chile criollo. Gallo pinto with platano maduro & queso fresco.

Vos,

Vaya pue’

Solicitous along market street. Rather quiet

Nicas

Water shortage issues. Usually free of charge

Honduras

Unadorned

Carne asada. Baleadas. K-trachas. Chicken galore!

amor

Solicitous, pagers

catrachas

Usually pay. Poor conditions

Guatemala

Very colorful exterior

Pipian (mole) Hilachas de carne

Vaya,

Buenas pilas, vos

Good negotiators, solicitous in market.

Chapines

Pay public toilets.

 

 

I arrived last night to Granada, a beautiful colonial city along Lake Nicaragua. It is not the undulating city spread of Guanajuato with its center along a gorge and its streets and alleys that wind up the slopes. Granada is laid out as a grid that gradually comes down along the lake, which provides cool breezes. The lake spills out into the Carribean which provided commerce routes to Europe (and access to pirates and invaders, like William Walker, a Unitedstatan, who wanted to proclaim himself president of Central America in the 1880s).

 

February 18, 2009

  • Mercado
  • Cathedral
  • Plaaza de la independencia
  • Convento de San Francisco
  • Torre de cathedral
  • Calzada & Lago
  • Centro Turistico
  • Carnaval
  • Groceries
  • Internet
  • Dinner
  • Poesia & Musica
  • Hostel

 

Haga Patria. Mate al orteguismo.

 

El trabajo es tu digno laurel.

 

La razon es mas fuerte que el fanatismo.

 

La lucha contra el poder es la lucha de la memoria contra el olvidio.

 

NO PACTO.

 

Uno cuenta la historia y el pequeno poeta dispierta.

 

--graffiti en Granada

 

 

Bienaventurado el hombre

Que no sigue las consignas

Del partido…

Ni asiste a los mitines,

Ni se sienta en al mesa

Con los gangsters….

--Erntesto Cardenal.

 

It is cooler than Panama and less expensive than Costa Rice. Nicaragua is a poor country but its people are rich in sincerity, friendliness and culture. They are genuine in their offers to help.

 

I have arrived in the middle of a poetry festival which provides many venues of entertainment. The two events I have been to have been packed. But then again this is Nicaragua, the land of Ruben Dario, where poets are heroes. Even the graffitti extolls the genre: Viva la poesia. I learned of Alfonso Cortes (1893-1965)a Nicaraguan poet who eventually suffered from mental illness. He is nonetheless is lauded for his poetry.   

 

February 19, 2009

  • Breakfast with Greg, his wife, & Conrad
  • Leave to Rivas
  • Return to station
  • Granada & internet
  • Hostel
  • Downtown
  • La Colina for Dinner
  • Don Alfredo

 

February 20, 2009

  • Leave for Managua
  • Managua
  • Hotel
  • Loma Tiscaya
  • Nueva Catedral
  • Area Monumental
  • Catedral Vieja
  • Palacio Nacional
  • Malecon

 

Mombacho Volcano is only about 10 km from Granada, but it is a world away. The high altitude of the volcano at 1350 meters creates a cloud forest where it is almost always covered in fog and mist. Bromelaids, ferns and orchids grow wild. There are also fumaroles in certain places that cause different plants with succulent leaves to grow. The fumaroles are holes in the earth where the heat from the volcano escapes. There is also wildlife there: monkeys, tigercats, frogs, salamanders, humming birds, but the only large animal I was was a sloth. Still it is a remarkable place in a beautiful country.

 

I stopped in Managua because I have to catch a bus to Honduras at 5:00 am and TICA buses don´t go out of Granada. Apparently it was established as a capital between the rival cities of Leon (former capital) and Granada along Lake Managua. It is a large expansive city, not like the walkable areas of Casco Viejo in Panama City, or San Jose, Costa Rica, or Granada. It has large thoroughfares which makes it imperative to take taxis or public transportation to get around. And the streets seem unpopulated which gives it an eerie feeling. The Sandanista slogans with Daniel Ortega´s image are evident throughout the city.

They strike terror in you. I arrived in Managua and a friend of a firend warned me that elections were rigged and the security level is at the same level as in Mexico City. I left my money and passport in the hotel on the advice of the owner. It is a bit unnerving. Is it safe?

But what is interesting is how a fear can spread through one´s perception.

Frances, John´s friend warned me of the political goings on and the security issues of Managua. And when I got to the hostel today, the property owner told me to leave my passport, extra cash and credit cards there--yo respondo por ellas--because of threats of being assaulted. He told me where to visit, but to always take main roads. How is that for a confidence builder just as I am about to go out.

The evidence of poverty is real in Nicaragua. I am told there is 35% unemployment rate so people will do what is necessary to live. I took a taxi to the Area Monumental near to the old Cathedral and along the side of this main thoroughfare, was a encampment of people living in makeshift shelters of cardboard and plastic bags. It was very sad to see.

When I arrived at the Cathedral square, the church was a shell a remnant of the 1972 earthquake indicative of the area which was uninhabited. A thin woman simulated going for my pocket and her son copied her. ¨Asi pongo la mano y saco lo que tenga.¨ I smiled at the gesture but it was unnerving.

I was then approached by two boys who were offering me palm figurines. I said no thank you. But they kept insisting. At one time, one actually put the item in my hand and it fell on the ground.

¨Tome es una flor¨¨Tome es un grillo¨ 

No. No, gracias.

¨Tome como un recuerdo de Nicaragua.¨

¨No, muy amables.¨ I decided to be on the offense. ¨¿Como se llaman?¨

¨Martin. Moises.¨

¨¿Son hermanos?¨

¨No, somos amigos. Ande tome un recuerdo.¨

¨Que tal si les tomo una foto como recuerdo. Me gustaria.¨And they posed for a rather somber photograph.

Then they asked for money. ¨De nos una moneda para compartir. Ande pue´.¨

¨Lo siento no tengo.¨

¨Por favor de nos algo para compartir.¨

I remembered I had gorp (peanuts and raisins) in my backpack. I gave it them to share. They looked at it rather strangely.

¨Es mi comida. Yo tambien tengo que comer, pero se las doy.¨

They half smiled and began to open it as they walked away. I don´t think it is what they expected but it was better than nothing. Poverty will make you do strange things.

 

Reflections on Faith and Reason

It was an interesting discussion I had at la Posada. Don Alfredo said, “the Catholic Church is he worst of religions.” Because of what it has wrought. The Church provides hope for the poor, but he himself has no need for it. He is his own “god.” All religion is rubbish.

How do I respond? I readily admit that the Church is responsible for some reprehensible acts (and after visiting the Museum of the Purgatory, I see some of what the Church allowed and sanctioned in the name of moral and orthodoxy rectitude). But the Church does not make any sense without a relationship to Jesus. Along with the bad, one must recognize the good the Church as done: hospitals, education, addressing the poor. Don Alfredo maintains one does not need faith to do good works. I would maintain that its true but to maintain focus and dedication especially when the obstacles become insurmountable or the work becomes unrewarding, one needs supernatural strength and that is where prayer comes in. It is love that will get you through the rough patches. The questions and anxieties that arrive because one puts them in the hands of God. But I admit that Don Alfredo’s concerns are valid/ legitimate.

You cannot serve both God and Mammon

I am realizing that I am trying to be both a Christian (a person of faith, a believer, a follower of Jesus) and a secular person (a person who contemporary who is adept with current state of affairs). There exists a language for faith and there is a language for reason. And I cannot bridge some elements to the other. How do I use a secular language to articulate elements of faith to someone who is irreligious or skeptical of all religion?

On the other hand, how do I live out a faith that is authentic and genuine and not based on superstition. (Superstition is what other religions call he rituals of other religions) Don Alfredo put some challenges to me. What is it that I believe? I have come to be skeptical of some of the things the Church teaches and have come to choose those things that seem genuine to me, eg. The perpetual virginity of Mary. I am also skeptical of the teachings of sexuality. I have come to use sitsen lieben as a principal.

The church’s teachings on sexuality are suspect to me, especially as the Magisterium is made up of celibates. The fact that as a gay man, I’ve had to overcome my self-aversion to my own sexuality was not helped by the Church’s teaching on homosexuality. I have come to believe that sexuality is a gift from God. It lies at the heart of us to remind us to love and be loved. There are those who simply view sexuality as a biological urge, but as humans we have reason and hopefully use that reason not to hurt others. The total gift of self from one person to another.

In regard to Mary’s perpetual virginity, It just seems unhealthy that Joseph and Mary would live a healthy relationship as a married couple without having any sexual relationship. If Joseph and Mary engaged in sexual relations, had children, it would not take away from their holiness or the special place Mary has in the Church. It seems that emphasis on Mary’s virginity has placed a preference to not being sexual, when sexuality can be healthy, spiritual, and holy. Joseph can be a chaste spouse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he did not have sexual relations. Mary’s virginity can be of a spiritual nature, then is she remained true to God’ word in her body and soul as if she were a virgin. It is as if once you lose your virginity you lose your innocence. She retained her innocence even as she gave birth to Jesus. I am not sure of this but it is my speculation. But I am trying to bridge my life as a rational being and my life as a person of faith.

So I find myself on the secular side. Do I give lip service to the Church by going to Mass, praying, assenting to church officials? My being catholic has no meaning without belief in Jesus. It is based on my relationship to Jesus, to following him, to listening to him, to pouring out my heart to him that any of the rest makes sense. It is this relation hip to the other that has stared great movementsin our time: MLJ Jr., Albert Scwhiezter, Mohatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez, Malcolm X, etc.

In the movie Dumbo, the protagonist, the big-eared elephant believes he can fly because he has a “magic” feather which he believes gives him the ability to fly. In the culminating scene as he falls from a circus scene, he loses his feather. His sidekick, Jeremy tells him he can fly as he falls, that he doesn’t need the feather and he flies without the feather. Is religion in the role of humanity, this feather? Is the faith we hold simply a talisman to which we ascribe great power so ca believe that we can fly? Perhaps we need to let the feather go and fly without it.

But then maybe believing makes it so. Maybe having the feather helps us to curb our appetites, to live authentically, to be compassionate and care for our fellow neighbor.

 

 

 

 

Te mataron y no nos dijeron donde enterraron tu cuerpo, pero desde entonces todo el territorio nacional es tu sepulcro o mas bein cada palmo de territorio nacional en que no esta tu cuerpo, tu resucitaste.

Creyeron que te mataban con una orden de FUEGO!

Creyeron que te enterraban y lo que hacian era enterer una semilla.

--Ernesto Cardenal

 

Madre, que dar pudiste de tu vientre pequeño

Tantas rubia bellezas y tropical Tesoro,

Tanto lago de azures, tanta rosa de oro,

Tanta paloma dulce, tanto tigre zahareño.

 

Yo te ofrezco el acero en que forje mi empeño,

La caja de armonía que guarda mis tesoros,

La peaña de diamantes del idolo que adoro

Y te ofrezco mi esfuerzo, y mi nombre y mi sueño.

--Ruben Dario

 

Yo soy aquel que ayer no mas decia

El verso azul y la cancion profana.

En cuya noche un ruiseñor habia

Que era alondra de luz por la mañana.

El dueño fui de mi jardin de sueño.

Lleno de rosas y de cisnes vajos.

El dueño de las tortolas, el dueño

De Gondolas y liras en los lagos.

--Ruben Dario

Thursday, February 12, 2009

I am off to Cosa Rica.

 February 12, 2009

  • 11:00 am leave Panama City
  • 5:00 pm Costa Rica border
  • 7:30 pm depart border
  • 11:40 pm arrive San Jose, Costa Rica

 

I am off to Cosa Rica.

 

After a long bus ride on TICA bus we got to San Jose at 1 am (Panama time). It was a 14 hour bus ride.

 

I’m finding the Costa Ricans friendly. The taxi driver helped me out with Hostel Pangea was closed for the night. The hotel attendant provided me with information and polite conversation as I ate breakfast. The newspaper lady who went out of her way to show me where the TICA bus station was. The Quepos bus ticket attendant who suggested that I take the 6:00 am bus instead of the 4:00 am bus back to San Jose. The brother and sister who were selling their mother’s brownies. The temperature here is also more appealing as it was cool and breezy and sunny, making San Jose a pleasant place to walk.

 

Fortunately, San Jose is a wonderful city. The people are cheerful, approachable and friendly. The climate is temperate so there is not the tropical weather of the Panama City. It is interesting to go to the parks and museums and see how the nation puts forth its history, its accomplishments, and its culture. I attended the Numismatic Museum (a museum on the money of Costa Rica) and I was surprised how interesting it was. Money is not only a way of making commerce, it determines the value we place on services and things. And what images are printed on the money indicates what the culture values at the time, whether it is national figures, crops, animals, buildings, etc.

 

February 13, 2009

  • Bus tix and
  • Jardin de mariposas
  • Parque Morazon
  • Parque Espana
  • Parque National
  • Museo National de Costa Rica
  • Catedral
  • Museo de Banco de Costa Rica
  • Internet
  • Dinner

 

CR alguien te U.S.A.

 

A los arias no se les para. Gobierno carepicha!

 

Me duele la vida.

 

No al TLC (trato de libre comercio) El trato se eligio por el pueblo.

--Costa Rican graffiti

 

El que trabaja por la libertad y la Gloria no debe tener otra recompense que la Gloria y a la liberacion.

--Simon Bolivar

 

Another thing about Ticos, is that they call you “amor” when they disagree with you or have something unpleasant to tell you. Many of the other Central Americans dislike this as it thye put on a different face rather than being upfront with you.

 

Elogio de un inmigrante

Desde el fondo de los

Tiempos siempre hubo

Alguien ante que

Nosotros, alguien

A quien desplazamos,

Alguien que nos margin,

Alguien con quien luchamos y

Alguien con que al final nos confundimos.

--Victor Hugo Acuna, 1999

 

El futuro de Costa Rica es incierto. El panorama sombrio generado por el aumento de los problemas sociales y el cuestionamiento sobre la funccion social del Estado, no debe hacernos olvidar una de las principales lecciones de la historia: que la misma se construye con el accionar cotiando del todos los individuos, los cuales como sociedad siempre had luchado por forjar su propio destino.

--Museo Nacional de Costa Rica.

What a brave statement to put in a national museum.

 

February 14, 2009—Dia de San Valentin: Dia del amor y Amistad.

  • Parque Sabana
  • Bus Station
  • 9:00 am leave San Jose
  • 1:00 arrive Quepos
  • Parque Manuel Antonio
  • Quepos
  • Groceries
  • Post office
  • Dinner

 

 

What a wonderful place Parque Nacional Manuel Antonio is. It has a bit of a jungle where you can see monkeys (squirrel, capuchin, spider), agoutis, morpho butterflies, sloths, lizards, iguanas, snakes, a fer de lance. And along side the park is a beautiful sandy beach to lay out on.

I walked through Manuel Antonio in flip flops through the forest floor. I wonder if it was such a smart thing to come here without boots and wander off from the established trail.

 

The only bad part of being here is that it is expensive--I paid $2.00 for a bag of Salvadoran corn nuts to snack on. I should have stayed in Quepos where there are more amenities, though where I am staying is quite nice: Hotel Plinio, nestled in the jungle.

 

What I have learned:

  • Be embarrassed for God
  • Stretch yourself
  • Be open to others, talk to them, make conversations
  • Be grateful, always
  • Pray. Find time to be with God.

 

February 15, 2009

  • Parque Manuel Antonio
  • Catarratas
  • Escondido
  • Punta Catedral
  • Quepos
  • Dinner
  • Hotel

 

February 16, 2009

  • Manuel Antonio Beach
  • Hotel
  • Quepos
  • Store
  • Internet
  • Dinner
  • Hotel

 

La Ceiba

Arbol native de los tropicos del Nuevo y Viejo mundo. Notable por su altura hasta de 70 metros. Considerado sagrado en teimpos procolombianos. La ceiba simboliza: vida, perpetuidad, gradeza, bondad, belleza, fuerza, union.

 

I went out to the beach yesterday to lay out and relax. Though I put on sunblock I could only stand 15 minutes or so and in my mind I was thinking I was doing irreparable damage to my skin: causing my skin to age and laying the possibility for skin cancer. So I stayed in the shade and still got sun. I don´t understand how other sun worshippers who are so much lighter than I can stay out in the sun for hours...

 

I also made a mistake of going into the ocean with my walking shorts on. The surf put loads of sand into my many pockets. Sand is terrible for cell phones and digital cameras. So I spent the good part of 30 minutes in the shower washing out all the sand. What a pain.

 

Traveling alone

While traveling alone, there are a few times when I feel out of place. One was on Valentine’s day, though I was a bit tipsy. The tables were laid out romantically in red bouganvillias and red poppies, even though there were only three couples. The Ecuadoran girls I met at the Catarratas were surprised I was traveling alone. When I went swimming, it would have been nice to have someone to look out for my personal items as I took a dip. But being alone is not as bad as sharing the experience of the new lands and experience with someone.

 

I noticed my reaction to a US panhandler in Quepos. I was looking for a bank when he came up to me directly: “Are you from the US? Can I help you with something?”

I didn’t want someone following me to the ATM so I responded, “I’m looking for a pay phone to make a call.”
He asked, “Can I cand $.15 for colones as the pay phones don’t take US currency? (It was about 50)”

I was a bit confused and he asked again, “How much?”

“About 50, but I will take what you can give as I am looking for a bite to eat.”

I gave him 100 and then another 100. “Can I help you with your call?”

“No thank you. I have a 1000 prepaid phone card.”

“That will won’t last long.”

“that’s OK. I just want to say hello.”

         A while later I was at the public phone struggling to make an international call and using the prepaid card. The panhandler came up to me suddenly, “Did you make the call?”

I was slightly perturbed. “No, I haven’t. I called the card information number to get information.” I explained. He was eating an empanada and then he walked away.

The following day I saw him as I was walking to the ATM. He didn’t see me (or maybe he avoided me) But when he presented himself I was a bit annoyed. Apparently he came here for work and he was trying to scrape by by eating and getting back to the US. But my gut reaction was to scold him: What brought you here? Where is your family to get you back to the US? Why are you in are sort town and not in San Jose to talk to the US consulate to get some help? Where is your family to lend you money to get back? Judge, judge, judge….

 

Monday, February 2, 2009

Casco Viejo, Ojos Viejos

 February 9, 2009—To Panama

  • Breakfast
  • Airport
  • Arrive Panama City
  • Walk Casco Viejo

 

February 10, 2009

  • Templo San Jose
  • Panama Canal
  • Museo de la Historia
  • Museo del Canal
  • Walk
  • Dinner

 

Casco Viejo, Ojos Viejos

When I arrived in Panama City, I stayed in the Casco Viejo (the Old Quarter). The area is under development; many of the buildings are simply empty shells. And while there is a police presence, at night, the Casco Viejo is dark and under populated making for a rather unsavory and unwelcome place, especially around the alleys. It could also be that I had arrived from Mexico, where there is often an active nightlife of people noshing at street eateries. The Casco Viejo is situated at the tip of a peninsula in the Pacific, so it has the potential to be a lovely place.

I discovered that since Panama uses the US dollar, the prices are higher than I had expected—my taxi ride from the airport to the hostel was $US 28 (not the $12-15 listed in my guidebook). But I made a more humbling discovery upon my arrival to Panama City.

While the taxi driver knew how to get to Casco Viejo, he was a bit unsure at to where my hostel was. I had a reservation at Hospedaje Casco Viejo, but he intended to drop me off at the first hostel he came upon. “Here is your place,” the taxi driver announced to me. I sat in the taxi unsure to get off.

“I don’t think this is my hostel,” I commented. “My hostel is Hospedaje Casco Viejo. This is Luna’s Castle.”

He looked a bit perplexed. And I suggested, “Let me get my guide book out to check the address.”

I turned on the vehicle light but it was too dim to read the book.

I then pulled out a small light with bright intensity. While the light provided sufficient illumination, I could not clearly read the small print. I blinked and it was the same. I have been myopic (near-sighted) since I was a teen and not in my mid-forties, I was losing my ability read at close range—anything closer than 8 inches. Ah my body, which has been a good servant for so long is beginning to fall apart. The limits I had in my youth I am acquiring. And the limits I have overcome in my youth are no longer there. Will I overcome these physical limits?

 

When I was young, I thought that the worse thing that could befall me would be to lose my hands as they are so pivotal to making art. I realize now that my eyesight would be a greater loss, as I could learn to make art with my mouth or my feet, but I cannot compensate for the loss of my sight.

 

 

There was a dearth of restaurants in Casco Viejo. Jilma, The hotel receptionist who is replacing her daughter  referred me to the Café Coca Cola, but all I found was a Chinese buffet bar. It was inexpensive but the food did not look appetizing. So I left. There seems to be a lack of night life in the area. It could be that the Panamanians don’t have money. It could be that it is not cheap. Panama is not Mexico or Thailand, where people are out at all hours of the day eating….

 

 

I had a hard time in Panama. Later I realized that though I knew the language, I had to learn the culture and more immediately how things functioned. For example, I couldn’t negotiate a good price on a taxi. I was told that a fare to la calzada or Amador (a manmade causeway) would be about $US 3.00. the first taxi driver told gave me a price of $US 7. A second taxi offered to take me for $US 15. Instead of going down, the price was going up. I decided to take public transportation. After asking several people I caught a taxi at Plaza Cinco de Mayo. It was a small bus where some 25 people got on (not kidding). The price was right. But unfortunately the bus broke down and we had to wait to catch a van to the destination. A van stopped and some 15 people got on (not kidding). The van dropped me off at the end of the causeway, but it was a mistake as it was midmorning (and hot) and the entire place was depopulated and meant for tourists.

Panama reminds me much of Cuba with the large numbers of African descendents. There are also noticeable indigenous: the Kuna. And a sizable Chinese population and mestizo population.  There is a diversity of colors in panama:
African, European, Indigenous, Asian & Mestizo.

I was not impressed with Panamanian food. The first night I ate a set menu in Casco Viejo because the food was made to order—but the fish was adequate. But most of the eating establishments have ready-made food: fried meat and stews (guisados).

The other thing I notice is that there is not the solicitation I found in Mexico. On one hand it is good not to be hawked merchandise  as I walk down the street, on the other hand I am at a disadvantage in getting cheap taxi fares. I later found out that taxi drivers solicit passengers by flashing their headlights as they pass a pedestrian. If the pedestrian wants a ride, he raises his hand and flags it down and a fare is negotiated.

 

I finally got a reasonable taxi fare ($3) to Albrook Terminal though one of the guesthouse residents said I could get one for ($1.50-2.00) I think that ist is a challenge when visiting is that you have to know thearea and the people and the culture of a place.  I can’t expect to arrive in a place and know a culture.

 

I am rethinking how I planned this trip. Three days in one city and then move on.  It is as if I am stamp-collecting as many entry and exit stamps from as many countries into my passport. Especially here in latin america, time move much more slowly. Today I went to the bus station to get a ticket for tomorrow for San Jose. Getting there took an hour. And then there was the standing in line. But once the young lady saw me it was OK. It just takes a whole day just to get somewhere. I could fly, but it is more expensive and you don’t see as much of the country.

 

When my tia Teresa traveled, she wanted to get to the boarding place as early as possible. She did not want to miss her flight or bus. And she would make sure she would not eat or drink very much as bathrooms are sometimes not available or they are in unsanitary conditions. If you have traveled you know what I mean. And heaven help you if you got sick while traveling. Let this serve as a warning.

 

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Mexico City—cuidad palpitante, envigorante, agotante, y conmovedora....

 Mexico City—cuidad palpitante, envigorante, agotante, y conmovedora.... With some 22 million inhabitants it is one of the great cities of the world in the heart of Mexico. While many decry its immensity, it crowded spaces, and its crime, it still holds the draw and magnetism of a great cosmopolitan city.

 

Internado Infantil Guadalupo, Iztalpa

In Mexico City, I stayed with my friend, John O, who this year has been staying at the Internado Infantil Guadalupano, a boarding house for at-risk and abandoned boys run my the Christian Brothers (La Salle Brothers). The boys are referred to the Internado by a social worker or a government agency. It does receive some financial support from the government, but the community must also fund-raise from benefactors a yearly USD$ 1,000,000 for its financial stability (which is small change if you compare the amount with what US schools must manage).

 

The Internado is for boys from grades 1-12, and university level. It is impressive how the place provides the boys with their physical, emotional and spiritual needs; they are provided with beds, clothing, food, education, recreation, medical care and moral guidance. The school has a medical doctor, a psychologist, and a few social workers. The work is not easy as it is a 24/7 job to look after the boys. One must maintain one’s equilibrium even as the work is demanding. And the teachers/caretakers will punish the students be posting them or redo activities.

 

Not all the boys are “orphans”. Unfortunately some of the boys have families who visit their sons monthly or weekly. But some of the boys do not have any families. They parents cannot raise them or they have been abandoned. These charges will have to find the emotional and spiritual strength to overcome this loss.

 

Understandably the boys are not without their issues. Some of the boys are easy to look after and some are more challenging. But the great majority are wonderfully adjusted children who have acclimated to being at a boarding home. While it is certainly is not the same as having a family, the community provides them with discipline, a balanced curriculum and love. The alternative would be that that boys would be in abusive families or out on the street.

 

This is their typical schedule:

6:30            Wake

7:00            Line up & Breakfast

7:30            Brush teeth and free time.

8:00            School begins

11:00          Recess

1:30            Class ends

1:30-3:00    Extracurricular Activities

3:00            Comida (Lunch)

3:30-6:00    PE & Chores

6:00-8:00    Free Time

8:00            Cena (Dinner—usually leftovers & bread)

9:00            Bed

They are assigned to clean after themselves such as washing their dishes, cleaning bathrooms, and bedrooms.

 

Plea on the Subway

On my way down to the subway in Mexico City, I passed a woman on the steps who was begging. She was covered in a shawl and exposed her swollen calf. The choice I confront as I walk down is how do I react to her plea which is communicated in all her aspects: from her outstretched cupped hand, to her dress and posture, to her look and her audible requests. Her entire being is a plea for help. In my mind, a torrent of thoughts and excuses passes by: I can’t help everyone. She may be scamming people in this outfit. Where is her pride? Where is her family? Poor lady, what happened to her? Has her situation come to this point where she must put aside her pride to beg at the feet of commuters? Do I give or not give? The most disturbing reaction for me is to ignore and harden my heart against feeling compassion.

 So I give her a coin, but I realize that the offering is not so much for her as it is for me—a plea on my behalf that I not cease to be human, to be compassionate, to be empathetic and caring. Yes it is a challenge to respond to all the beggars and panhandlers. And sometimes I give and sometimes I do not. That is not the issue. The question is do I respond to the solicitations in a manner that is human or not?

 

February 2, 2009

  • Quemanco Park
  • Internado
  • Computer
  • Hang out with Carmen

 

February 3, 2009

  • Wake Primaria Students
  • Breakfast
  • School
  • Comida
  • Micro
  • Zocalo
  • Collegio de San Ildefonso
  • Sto. Domingo
  • Dinner
  • Bellas Artes
  • Internado

 

Security in Mexico City

I was well aware of the security issues that Mexico City is dealing with (killings, kidnapping, robberies). The stories that my Mexicans told me regarding assaults by taxi drivers gave me pause. Brisa, caretaker to Brother Enrique, told me she got into a taxi to get to work when the taxi driver began to insult her, telling her that she would disappear. She was frightened but maintain a calm appearance as she humored the man and discreetly took off her jewelry. After driving around, she was finally let off as the driver continued to curse at her. She was simply grateful to have to been let off.

Brisa had another incident with a younger taxi driver who had parked along a forested street. He had a chain to the passenger door which prevented her from leaving. He kept telling her that he wanted a child with her as he looked back at her through the rear view mirror. Brisa, in her inestimable way, told him that she was already married with children. She was finally let go.

Brother Enrique shared that his Rolex was stolen as the taxi he was in was at a stop, when masked and armed men pointed a gun at the driver and himself and robbed them of their valuables.

A fellow passenger on the plane related how her brother, who was driving with his father and mother, had made a right hand turn in with his car around another auto. The occupants didn’t appreciate the slight and followed him until he came to a stop. The men came out and put a gun to the brother’s head and the father’s head. The mother came out of the back seat, kneeled in front of the assailant and plead for her son’s life, which save him. She also related how her partner was coming home from work when his auto broke down in a dicey part of Mexico City. Seven different police officers had stopped to see him but none offered to help him. They suspected of having drugs, illicit dealings, searched his automobile. All in a manner of plying him for a bribe.


Then you have my friend John, who has no compunction about negotiating down the price of taxi fare. After the Prowler’s Ball (party) in Liz’s apartment in Polanco district at 3:00 a.m., John didn’t want to get a sitio taxi (while they are more secure, they cost more) so he decides to hail a street taxi a few feet from a sitio place. He gets one and negotiated: “Regular es 80-90 pesos, y como es noche, es 20% mas. Entonces $M 120 es bien.”

The driver counters: “No. Esta muy lejos Lomas Estrella. $M 150.”

John counters back: “No. Creo que $M 120 es un buen precio.”

“No. $M 150. Cuanto les cobran los de sitio?”

We get off. John says he is stubborn about not paying more than necessary.

We get in another taxi. John asks: “Cuanto por ir a Lomas Estrella?”

“$M 150.”

“Que tal $M 120?”

“No. $M 150.”

John does not easily give up. “Bueno vamos a subirle a $M 130.”

The taxi driver finds a middle ground: “Bueno, no Usted ni yo. Vamos para $M 140.”

“Esta bien.” At this hour in the morning, John gives in to finding a cheaper fare. Later we find that $M 150 is a very reasonable fare and John and I were just lucky not to pushed our luck or get assaulted in the light of the incidents that have happened to our friends.

 

 

February 4, 2009

  • Cathedral
  • Gran Templo Mayor
  • Museo Jose Luis Cuevas
  • Iglesia de SS. Trinidad
  • Templo de Loreto (Beautiful)
  • Templo N.S. de Pilar
  • Museo de la Ciudad de México
  • Parque Alameda
  • Post office
  • Internado

 

****

 

Tú eres el patrimonio vivo

De la Ciudad de México,

Heredeo, interprete

Y renovador de una cultura de muchos siglos.

 

Tus eres la pieza más importante

De Museo de la Ciudad de México

Tú eres el Museo

De la Cuidad de México.

 

****

 

El 13 de agosto de 1521, heróicamente defendido por Cuahtemoc cayó Tlatelolco en poder de Hernán Cortés. No fue triunfo ni derrota que el doloroso nacimiento del pueblo mestizo que el el México de hoy.

—Plaza de 3 Culturas.

 

 

Promises, promises

Brother Paco, the head master at the Internado, asked if I could give a hand with the boy’ athletic competition at 7:00 am. I said I would. I arrived at 6:50 am to the patio where they line up and I waited and waited and waited. I finally went inside to get out of the cold. I came out at 8:00 am again but asked the security person if he knew where they were. He said they had left in the micro at 7:00. I was confounded as I was there before that time and didn't here the bus leave. I guess I will do other things today. I just bothers me that I said I would do something and I didn’t fulfill it....

 

February 5, 2009—San Felipe de Jesús, first Mexican-born saint

  • Breakfast
  • Mass
  • Basilica de N.S. de Guadalupe
  • Tlatelolco
  • Plaza de 3 Culturas
  • Museo de Arte Popular
  • Internado

 

February 6, 2009

  • Micro
  • Fundación de Mier y Pesado
  • Classes
  • Comida
  • Museo Frida Kahlo
  • Internado

 

February 7, 2009

  • Taxi
  • Fundación
  • Polanco
  • Castillo de Chapultepec
  • Prowler’s Ball at Liz’s

 

February 8, 2009

  • Breakfast
  • Mass
  • Comida
  • Free Time