Taxco, Mexico

Leaving the City of Eternal Spring, Cuernavaca, I managed to sneak away for a weekend in the charming valley village of Taxco, State of Guerrero.
I should note, the true name of this country is the United Mexican States, the Republic of Mexico. There are thirty states, plus the Federal District of Mexico (much like our Washington, D.C.). Cuernavaca is in the state of Morelos.
I am highlighting Taxco, as she is a splendid example of old world colonial Mexico 1500´s and onward, while several of her constructions date as far back as the 1100´s. Taxco is what the Spanish call a Pueblo Blanco, or white town. The majority of her houses are adobe and stucco, are plastered together, lining the narrow, cobblestone streets or paths which all funnel to into the main plaza or Zócalo of the village. Here you find her cathedral, which is on the list of the world´s most 100 watched heritage sites in danger of being lost. This mamouth, pale pink-sandy colored cathedral is reminiscent of la Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, in that she is coated with stone spultures and reliefs, such as saints and gargoyles. Gargoyles, by the way get their name from the gurgling sound that is created as water pours from their throats during rain storms. Inside her walls display mural after mural and goldleaf painted moldings and altars. Ancient porcelain saints lay out, displayed in glass cased tombs. They are dressed in colorful robes with ribbons and crowns. Many people come to these holy sites to pray to the specific saint who is thought to be responsible for assisting in earthly needs, such as loss or fertility or safety.
Everything in Taxco spills out over itself, her purple cascading flowers, her patchwork of pasted together homes, her tiny gardens and verandas. The village is wedged into the gap of a valley rising up the wall of a mountain. The labyrinth of stone stairways that connect mini-oneway streets lends itself to adventure and discovery. She is small enough to "get lost in" without worry... again, because eventually the radius of connecting stone walkways, staircases and streets all return to the Zócalo. My first morning in the village was a heart racing jumpstart vertical walk up to the mirador (lookout) offering panoramic views of the Taxcan valley, whose jewel would be the central square cathedral.
Looking up the from just about anywhere, you see la Virgen de Guadelupe at the highest peak overlooking the city with her arms opened wide, embracing the village. That would have been an additional hour skywards!

I arrived via bus at sunset. Unbeknowst to me, it was the closing of a week long Festival de Plata (Silver Festival). In addition to being known for her stunning setting and fresh air, Taxco is a silver mining town. Without giving specifics, I will say most of my Christmas shopping was satisfied in the spiraling, meandering markets of native artesans using local silver. The abundance of handicrafts is mind boggling. At these outdoor puestos (booths) in the marketplace, silver is weighed and you are quoted "the going rate." Although a narrow margin of bartering is possible, the quotes are very fair in the marketplace (when in doubt, please don´t barter in actual shoppes, just visit them to get an idea for the retail prices!). Most other crafts and items for sale in outdoor markets are offered at prices intended to be reduced by the practice of tourist-vendor bartering. It´s losts of fun, and requires a skillful and polite art to reach a rock bottom price without upsetting the merchant (wink!). Sincerely, I purchased several items which could´ve been "had for less" but I wanted to pay fairly and not take advantage of evident economic needs during their slow season. Finding the balance of fair trade is part of the art of bartering, and is a personal energy between you, the item, and the vendor. I am always chatty when aproaching the vendor, wearing a smile... and regardless as to the acceptance or decline of a sale, I am careful to express my thanks with a sincere look into their eyes. Being an American abroad carries with it several stereotypes: for example, one of being perceived as rich, and yet another carrying an air of entitlement, a conflicting combination (wanting more for less, despite having the money to pay fairly). I keep in mind something my brother, Brian, taught me, "You should never pay more for something than what it is worth to you." That means you may not be buying the item, or that you must wait until the item becomes available at the price you want it for. I found items for less that I had paid more for, and I also passed on items in which the price could not be bartered down to what I felt it was worth (to me)... often later finding it at a different puesto at an acceptable price.
The evenings in Taxco were filled with celebration and music. The townspeoples were crammed into the zócalo to enjoy the live concerts. Excellent and free top personalities were hired by the village to partake in the annual celebration. Silver is the commerce of the village and means wealth, thus it is honored each year. Three meter long tubular balloons were being tossed and bounced throughout the crowd. I had a VIP seat in the balcony of a pizzeria overlooking the square. I was jarred by frequent deafening screaches of excitement and applause, as the youth of the village cheered on their guest artists, musicians with pop rock talent and crowd pleasing banter.
Taxo is a MUST VISIT, so far my favourite locale in limited view I have had of the Mexican landscape. Taxcan people are kind, patient, and curious.
At the end of each day I had pleasantly exhausted myself with the endless walking of these hilly streets, carrying my packages and a nostalgia for returning home soon.

Spanish Language Center of Cuernavaca (SLCC)

The Spanish Language Center of Cuernavaca is located a few minutes out of the city center, and about an hour and a half south of Mexico, D.F. Maestro Arturo Pineda and his family warmly received me on Sunday evening for my first week of intensive, advanced grammar, conversation and composition lessons. Yes, we all need refresher courses and immersion time.
A simple google.com search will supply the average person with mutiple schools as well as multiple cities throughout Mexico and Central America, my personal favourite being Antigua, Guatemala.
I will spend two weeks in the Pineda home, as they are also my host family. November and December are the low season for Spanish students arriving in Cuernavaca (which is chocked full of such institutions!). As luck would have it, I am getting private lessons at group prices (because they do not have anyone else enrolled this week). I receive five hours of lessons from 8am until 1pm (three hours of intensive grammar and an hour of conversation and reading), followed by a couple more hours of local excursions and cultural discovery with Andres (markets, museums, cathedrals, etc.). Andres handles the business and marketing side of the school. All this for just $150US per week (plus the standard $100US registration fee). I have a private room, bath and three square meals a day for $20US per day. Madre Maru is a fine cook and extremely hospitible. She takes extra care to respect my diet which leans toward vegetarian (fish and fowl only).
Her kindness was tested further these last two days when I awoke ill. Unsure of the cause, but the symptoms presented themselves one at a time. I started my morning kneeling beside the toilet and ended my day with a thermometer in my mouth. Nausea and dizziness, followed by a fever made lessons that day a challenge to enjoy. My visit that afternoon to the local artesan market was even worse, as the odors brought on further nausea, reaching new levels as we turned down the open air meat market. I took comfort at the top of a stairway stall full of herbs and spices. A familiar and pleasing aroma hit my nostils and immediately allieviated my nausea, and nerves. I reached down and drew the spice contents to my face, inhaling intently. Cloves! I made it home without further disturbance, clutching the cloves like a security blanket. That evening I would skip dinner but enjoy a wellknown and celbrated tea of Yerbabuena (good herb) which has medicinal properties said to neutralize nausea and stomach problems. Well is must have worked, as my fever disapated and my body purged the remainder of its unwanted contents the following morning... fortunately via the preferred method of elimination, mind you.

So what might one expect for lessons?
My classes begin at the kitchen table with a chalkboard hanging on the wall and resource texts spread out. We play with multiple verb tenses that are craftily introduced, especially the elusive subjunctive whose rules vary from those found in Frenchj, and which have been essentially erased from English. I verbalize all my work (even when written), and seek clarification when I am uncertain of usage. My homework consists of worksheets, occasional translations into the target language, and ALWAYS un ensayo... the dreaded essay!

As I am avoiding tonights paper with this entry, it is best I close for the evening.
Please feel free to visit the SLCC webpage: www.allinfo.net/SLCC/
email:
slccinfo@terra.com.mx
Snail mail:
Familia Arturo Pineda
Calle Vicencte Guerrero No. 8 Col. Las Granjas
C.P. 62460 Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico
Telephone from the US: 011.52.77.73.16.49.66

Email back online -- bcarver@fps.k12.me.us

El Castillo de Chapultepec

Giving way to a stunning 360 degree panoramic view of the city (as far as the eye permits, given the smog), and sitting high upon a steep hill on the edge of el Bosque Chapultepec, at the foot of el Paseo de la Reforma, you find the the fortress-like castle, El Castillo de Chapultepec. Built in 1785, it served as a residence for the viceroys of Nueva España, acting as local rulers for King Ferdinand and Queen Isabela. Later converted into a military academy (1843). Its real claim to fame was probably when Austrian Emperor Maximilian and Empress Carlota of the Hapsburgs arrived in1864, refurbishing el Castillo as their main residence, later enjoyed by Presidential-Dictator Porfirio Díaz, who was finally ousted by Benito Juarez. Several of the rooms on display in the Alcázar towers are reminiscent to the Victorian period, with their lavish furnishings and décor having been crafted and shipped from Western Europe and Asia, many as gifts from a variety of foreign dignitaries including Napolean. They include marble baths, oak paneled ceilings, French brocade drapery with matching upolstered furniture groupings, oriental rugs, fine China, murals, and stained glass.
For more info and photos, visit http://www.mexicocity.com.mx/castillo.html
The castle is also part of the Museum of National History, whose exibits chronicle the rise and fall of colonial New Spain right through to Mexican Revolution.

Museo Nacional de Historia: El marco natural de este museo es el Castillo de Chapultepec, proyecto de residencia imperial que habitara Porfirio Díaz y los primeros jefes Revolucionarios. Reúne piezas representativas de los períodos de la historia mexicana: La Nueva España, luchas de Independencia y formación de la República. En algunas de sus salas y espacios se observan varios murales importantes de la Escuela Mexicana con temas históricos. Se accede por una rampa que rodea el cerro de Chapultepec (Primera Sección del Bosque).

I found it easy to spend four or five hours touring her countless rooms, flanked by balconies, and a couple of gardens with fountains, one containing several sculptures of Aztecs near a fountain, the other being an inner courtyard atop the Alcázar, surrounded by murals of open-bloused Mexican women dipicting various poses of cotidian life (all in good taste, mind you!).

I finished my tour in the carriage house, where two relatively ordinary yet famous black horsedrawn carriages were on display. One being for the daily use of Maximilian, the other being the one that delivered Benito Juarez to the castle, to overthrow Dictator Díaz. A third carriage, however, was the main attraction. An excessively large and frilly, pink and red upolstered carriage, littered with wood sculptured angels and children at play, and velvet covered straps and silverplated accents dazzled us all. All thre blazoned the crest of Mexico, also seen on the national flag, an eagle perched on a cactus with a snake in its mouth (look up the history on this... it dates back to the Aztecs who originally inhabited all of modernday Mexico and the lake that once filled this valley).

México, D.F.

Por fin, regreso a la Red.
Internet access had been limited, as well as mi horario for postings. Often I would attempt to access this web page and my email without success. Otherwise, internet cafés were closed by the time I finished with my daily excursions. That´s a good thing, as GAP Adventure Tours has proven to be an outstanding means of visiting Latin America both affordably and safely. Having explained away such a long absence, let me now tell you a story.

I arrived in the (arguably) largest city in the world, hosting some twenty to twenty-five million inhabitants, and about a hundred museums. Mexico City (D.F.) is inconceivably great in scale, and thick with pollution. The city oozes seemlessly into suburbs to create a megatropolis.
I am in recovery from the two months of extreme travel, the latter end in which I managed pick up a hitchhiker that doesn´t want to leave... a chest cold that has lasted at least a week and seems to be irritated in this high concentration of carcinogenic air.
The nights in Mexico are chilly, and the group was rudely welcomed in Palenque with heavy rains and clammy cold nights. So unlike the weeks of tropical weather our bodies had become accustomed to. This combination made for an easy attack on my immune system. I´ve been pumping echinacea and B vitamins, but the phlegm just keeps flowing. (I know, "TMI" too much information).
This week marks the beginning of my month long tenure in the home of a Mexican family, The Tripp-Moran residence. Señora Martha Tripp and her two sons, Jesús y Ricardo. Jesús and I are acquaintences from my summer trip to Brittany, France through the Experiment in International Living (EIL) program. Jesús, or "Josh", is the local representative for EIL groups traveling to Mexico. We met at Leader Training in Burlington, Vermont. When he learned I would be traveling throughout Latin America, he insisted I come to stay with his family.
They have been most warm in receiving me. Unbeknownst to me, as it turns out the Tripps are a family of means. They have a charming home in the Tlalpan, Colonia (a perhaps more affluent quadrant of the city). We have three little dogs to keep us company, Florinda, Brownie y Cosmo (two rusty Dalmatians and one sandy Chihuahua). The maid, Marta, visits three times per week and also helps to cook meals.
On my first day with the Morán-Tripps, we attended a grand scale art exhibition and food festival at the Colegio Americano, where the younger cousins of Señora Morán-Tripp´s sister attend. Most all of the Morans were present and engaging me idle chit-chat full of enthusiasm and welcoming smiles.
I tried a snack called Eloquite, where the corn has been stripped from the cob and is mixed with mayo, lime juice and chile powder. The ever present licuados (blended fruit and ice drinks) made for a refreshing thirst quench, mine with mango and pineapple.
The extended family is alive and well in Mexico City. Despite the cosmopolitan trends, the tight-knit family nucleas includes frequent contact with the tíos, primos y abuelos. In fact, I met Abuelo Morán on Sunday. He joined us for a meal. Almost apologizing, Señora Tripp felt compelled to explain why her father did not live here, in this home. She said that the family was shocked when he announced that he would like to "try" living in a retirement residence... not wishing to burden any of the three daughters and their families with his needs at this stage in his life. Of course, his decision is more commonplace for folks from the U.S., however a real exception to the rules here in Latin America.
My first night (Saturday) with Tripps? Josh swept me off to a birthday party, that looked straight out of the O.C. television show. A luxurious home neslted in an upscale neighborhood. A garden party, with blaring music, from the ample watts of the hired D.J.´s sound system, and all sorts of concoctions being poured at the open bar, attended by several camareros in bowties and vests. Sister Vanessa had opened her home for her brother´s birthday, with a rented white tarp tent and rented large white foam block furniture for the guests to mill around the spacious candlelit garden. Her two black Great Shnauzers would make their appearnace at the close of the party, dusk.. 5am!! I had stuck to drinking Coca Cola, to keep me alert.
I met longstanding friends, many who had attended the French school here in the city most of their childhood. Others who were connected through college, and yet others from work. Most in attendence were well versed in English, and were shocked with my degree of fluency and could hardly believe me to be American (we are notoriously uni-lingual!).
You could say a good time was had by all -- especially the birthday boy, who attempted to get us to stay on even when everyone else had departed.
I was never so happy to land in bed and wondered what the damage would be when I woke, attempting to recover from this chest cold. I wouldn´t rise until 3pm that afternoon. Embarrassed and creaping down to the kitchen, Señora Tripp wasn´t the least bit surprised. It seems this culture, or at least sub-culture of Mexico´s elite are accustomed to such socialite behavior, reminescent of Auntie Mame (if you haven´t seen this movie starring Roselind Russell, rent it!).
We had laughs about the characters I´d met, and about how such a party would have been shut down immediately for disturbing the peace had this been set in a U.S. city. It was explained that celebrating is a way of life, and so long as you don´t "throw parties all the time" in general the neighbors are quite understanding and apt to do the same... on the occasional special occasion.

Note, I will be back dating postings from where I left off. Postings appear in chronological order, thus watch for postings prior to this date, as I attempt to recall and record GAP Adventures.

By now you will have discovered that I am not a "writer" and do not pretend to have such literary talents. I also do not have a spell checker option with these entries and am often hurried and do not have opportunity to proof my work for errors. For this, you have my apologies and I welcome any corrections to my entries you feel need attention.

I also welcome submissions to be included in these archives. Should you have stories of your own and/or cultural commentary pertinent to Latin America, I encourage you to email me your submissions (in the form of a letter is often the easiest). If you give me permission to post your letters, I know the variety of speakers would elevate the reading enjoyment of such a blog.

Many thanks for your patience, if you were wondering why postings had halted in Antigua, Guatemala. I now have convenient access to the internet, and hope to be more regular with blog postings.

Aside from catching up on emails and blog postings, I am researching Spanish language school options in and near the city. I visited several schools in Antigua, Guatemala that I feel would serve the Falmouth community needs, for those interested in studying abroad for any length of time during any time of the year. To give you an idea, the cost for enrolling in the Antigua schools per week (including a host family and three square meals per day) runs between $155 and $195. This would be for about four hours (a half day) of lessons five days per week.

Please note: I have received requests from FHS students to write their college recommendations. If you are one of my students in need of a college, university, or program recommendation, please feel free to make your requests as though I were at Falmouth. Securing your future studies and successful admission to higher levels of learning remains a priority, and I am at your service.