So far: Rains and Fiestas

(Note: When I use " town", "community", or "village" I'm referring to my placement site - and many thanks to Sarah who took a lot of these pictures!)

It’s rainy season in South-Central Mexico. 

Here in Cuernavaca big clouds stretch across the sky and bring refreshing, chilly winds, light sprinkles and sometimes lightening and booming thunder when heavy rains enter into this urban basin. 

In the community where I work each Wednesday through Saturday (waaaay up in the mountains, about two hours outside of Cuernavaca), it seems like it rains even harder. At the Center there’s an abrupt whipping noise as rain pounds on the tent above our table, and a cracking wind that tosses around plants and tall tree branches. As the rains rush down sloping hills, crops along the mountainside are nourished; dirt and debris wash from the top of steep, narrowly paved roads. A rural nighttime bath.   

This also seems to be the time of year for fiestas.

September 8 was the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, an important day of observance and celebration for many Catholics. Nearby the Center, pre-recorded church bells rang early each morning around 6am - give or take half an hour - and minutes later a band would perform the most, well, interesting arrangements. Trumpets, saxophones, drums, and cymbals clashing together preceded a day full of activity.

Those of us of us at the Center would joke that the only way to get through the constant noise was to focus on only one instrument at a time, since each person in the band seemed to be playing their own creative tune.

Then all day music blasted from radios and cars, accompanying many processions, some religious and some not, throughout the town. Marigold flowers, incense, statues of La Virgen de Guadalupe and other saints were carried up and down the roads by crowds of men, women, and children. Sometimes this was a solemn procession and at other times I saw men dancing at the front with Mexican folk art figures and colored masks. Fire-crackers would burst overhead from time to time and, without fail, each shot startled me!

Many streets in Cuernavaca are still bright with the colors of the Mexican flag: green, red, and white. On Tuesday September 15 we celebrated el dia de independencia, the Day of Independence. That night all five of us YAGM volunteers met downtown at the zocalo, or city square, surrounded by lots of people celebrating, eating food, dancing to live music, etc. There was also a giant clock counting down the days, hours, and minutes to Mexico 200th anniversary of independence - next year, 2010. Even though streets were blocked off from regular traffic, they were nonetheless congested with vendors selling traditional Mexican dishes like steamed corn, quesadillas, warm atole (a corn-based drink), pozole (a soup made of chicken, hominy corn, and spices), and more. (Check the website later for some recipes!)

A mariachi band played close to the hour when everyone gathered together to join in on the Grito de independencia, the shout for independence, at 11pm.

Under pouring rain (big surprise?) the crowd shouted “Viva!” as the names of heroes, both men and women, were commemorated in the fight for Mexico’s independence from Spain. Finally, from the balcony of the Palacio Municipial, the municipal president declared Mexico’s independence from Spain and the words “Viva Mexico!” echoed all around.

White silly string flew into the air, showering the crowd where kids, sitting on top of their parents shoulders, blew whistles and noisemakers, and a collective yell filled the city square as the bell rung, signaling that Mexico has declared itself a free and independent nation. After this ceremony the Mexican national anthem played and then under a haze of patriotic fervor and euphoria, an exciting burst of fireworks lit up the sky. 

The celebrations aren’t over yet! We’re still in the month of fiestas patrias, so this past week outside of Cuernavaca was also full of excitement and energy. On Wednesday morning as we drove to the Center, there were lots of parades along the roads where school children, who had the day off, marched along with la Reina, the queen, of the parade.

Since school in the afternoon was cancelled, Sarah and I watched some of the town’s celebration. We saw bailes which are traditional dances, a folk singer, as well as presentations and short poems read aloud by students and their teachers. I was so excited to hear a poem read in Nahuatl! A few feet away there was a game for the men where they had to climb up a greased pole in order to bring down shirts, jeans, and other clothing that were tied at the top. The man pictured below is the only one who made it!

It was an interesting contrast that the crowd seemed so much more reserved than in Cuernavaca. There was hardly any applause after each performance and I noticed that all the entertainment was brought in from another town. Performers, wearing the same colors as the Mexican flag, stood out against the women who use dark indigo blue or russet shawls.

This strange mix of civic pride and traditional culture in Mexico really grabs my attention. It’s like there are two different Mexicos. I think the contrast is made even more visible in the community outside of Cuernavaca where I still can’t figure out how patriotism fits into the community’s identity. I wonder if people in marginalized communities, like the one I’m placed with, really feel free and democratic since their context is a product of failed policies, empty promises, and disempowerment. I won’t be able to understand this in only a year but it’s interesting to think about.

The exposure to the bustling, full of go life in Cuernavaca against the more isolated and rhythmic pace of life where I work is fascinating. A challenge has been dealing with my own hopes for a better future and instead seek to understand others’ hopes and dreams. This has definitely opened possibilities for people to explain why or how “things” work, to describe reality based on their own experience, and in the process deepen all I can learn from others’ perspectives. I’m also trying to ask better questions and learn more about the issues people face and my role in them which, again, isn’t possible in a year.

It feels like time is flying and I’m not even a month in - but even in this short amount of time, the power and beauty of people’s stories has been the most precious gift, adding to an even more enriching, eye-opening and life-giving experience. I’m so glad to be able to share parts of my story with you who support and encourage me. I’m thinking of you often, with gratitude, joy, and peace.