"Are You Catholic?"
MEXICO | Friday, 13 June 2008 | Views [781]
I have been taking Spanish classes at UNAM for the past 4 weeks but have found that in my attempt to bring myself closer to the Mexican people by getting a firm grasp on the language I have incidentally landed in an international haven, a refuge for foreigners who find themselves suddenly living among greasy tacos and concrete skies: they call it CEPE (Centro de Ensenaza Para Extranjeros). So I have been in fact mingling with those mostly of the European and Asian variety for the past month. That’s not so say that I’m not still getting plenty of “Mexican” at home though.
Last weekend we celebrated Saul’s dad’s birthday and had anyone and everyone over including 5 of Lucia’s 9 sisters and their families over; everyone arrived late, as expected, and in waves. There was a lot of drink involved and by the end of the night, I found myself sitting in a wire-mesh chair talking Saul’s vainglory aunt’s ear off. In my drunken demeanor I shared with her my most “favorite question” to ask other foreigners and my biggest frustration about being a teacher. Note: she was not my only audience on this matter. I also discussed this particular frustration of mine with Guadalupe’s neighbors (when I said anyone and everyone this is what I meant) and I have to say, they were rather insightful.
In case there’s any interest, my favorite question to ask other foreigners is “Why did you come to Mexico…?” It’s especially interesting when they come alone because Mexico City isn’t the safest place you could go in the world when you’re on your own. I mean, I know why I’m here but I feel as though I’m pretty invested in Mexico in all realms of my life so it always intrigues me to know what the “pull” is for others.
As for my biggest frustration about being a teacher? Hands-down the attitude that it is entirely the teacher’s responsibility to teach you English and you have no responsibility to study or read in your spare time. This frustration mostly grows the experiences that I’ve been having with my girls at Pepsi. I’ve been with them for almost a year now but by the time I made my way into their lives they had already been taking English classes for two years and neither one of them could have a basic conversation. They were obviously fed-up with taking classes and making no progress - and I soon realized the reason for their lack of progress.
Several times this year, we’ve discussed what they want out of the classes and they’re even told me exactly how they want the class to be laid out, and yet every 8 weeks they come to me complaining that they still don’t feel like they’re making progress. And every time I tell them, “Well, you guys, this is the thing: we are designated 3 hours of class per week - you collect me from reception half-an-hour late everyday, which whittles our actual time down to 2 hours. It’s not much. On top of that, you’re not living and working in a English-speaking country so you have to be more realistic about your expectations. And the final thing is it’s not easy to learn a language…you’re going to have work hard outside of our two hours a week if you really want to see progress.” Duh, right?
Well, they came back to me with the same complaints about their lack of progress again this week. They would like to do conversation classes once a week and grammar once a week, which would suit me fine if they would actually make an effort to try and remember what I taught them. But the fact remains that these conversation classes don’t evolve into much when we’re constantly stopping to translate because these girls don’t know basic words and phrases used in conversation and don’t bother finding out. So, to prove my point about them having to take initiative, I conducted an experiment on Wednesday. One of the girls had asked me to translate from “mientras” in the middle of a very choppy sentence. I told her that it meant “meanwhile” and noted that these kinds of words are things they should know by now and make an effort to remember. They nodded their heads and we continued on with the class. At the end of our hour together I asked them what “meanwhile” meant and they just stared at me blankly. Thing is, I know I’m not a bad teacher - I’m starting to think that they’re just bad students. If only we could learn languages at the click of a switch, hey.
So that was that. I’m sure that The Vainglory Aunt loved listening to my quirks and rants, but let’s move back about five irrelevant paragraphs now. So my life isn’t devoid of all things lovely and Mexican, and I know that having more linguistic ability will make discovering Mexico a bit easier, but as it stands, things are pretty regular. Just rushing from early morning classes where I’m teaching in the north west of the city, down to the south of the city where my classes at UNAM are, dancing to the tune of “la musica nortena” twice a week, and making it home in time to plan for the next day and do homework. Sounds quite dull actually, but amazingly, my days are feeling a lot fuller nowadays. There’s something to said for being around people your own age I guess! And another secret is that I think I miss school. I even spent a couple of minutes scoping out Journalism Masters programs on the internet the other night…forget I mentioned it, for the time being Mexico beats school kind of like rock beats scissors.
The reason why I even came a’blogging today was because I encountered a character, as you might say, the other day on an otherwise regular Metrobus ride home. We had 10 seconds to load into the bus at Doctor Galvez and as everyone rushed to find a seat on the bus I found myself seated next to a harmless old woman. This was favorable because I wanted to be able to read my newspaper slowly and discreetly but without drawing attention to the aspect of my “foreignness.” She plopped her side-bag on her lap and we were on our way, she with her bag and me with my fantastic front-row view and newspaper at the ready. I had barely plugged into my iPod when I felt her in my periph. I pressed pause and noticed her smiling at me as though she’d just said something to me - which she had. I said, “Mande?” and she repeated for me, “Eres Caterina?” I could only come to one conclusion comprised of two thoughts: she was some sort of psychic or visionary who had a special message for me (the thought alone made me excited - at least someone knew what I should wear for my Grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary party in August) and the fact that she just uttered my name was downright creepy.
But I was in the mood so I responded, “Si.” Of course I’m Katherine and you know it, you old kook, now tell me the good news. And then I saw it and literally everything that I had been dreaming up about her warning me of what was to come in my future unwound in my head in one disappointing second. As I watched her wrinkly old hand slide out of the front pocket of her bag, I noticed a shiny pamphlet between her thumb and forefinger and realized my mistake: she had, in fact, not said, “Are you Katherine?” but “Are you Catholic?” My eyes widened with realization - unfortunately probably not the kind of enlightenment she was hoping to introduce me to. Before her fingernails even had chance to appear from within the front pocket, I corrected my initial answer and shouted at her, “Oh! No! No, no, no! No soy catolica!” In retrospect, it was probably a little much but I really didn’t want to mislead her never mind waste a pamphlet so I made it clear that I was not Catholic. But I was Katherine and this was where the confusion had stemmed from.
She didn’t seem moved really and with an understanding smile, simply slid her hand back into its pocket and turned to face the front of the bus again. Apparently she took rejection in her stride because just a few seconds later, she quietly leaned forwards, tapped the girl sitting in front of her on the shoulder, and asked her The Question. She performed this ritual for the entire duration of the bus ride as long as I was on it and though she was absolutely innocent and cute as a button, I found her determinedness and planning amusing. Her hand made the pocket its home and, like a snake, would only start sliding out, pamphlet clenched, whenever she spotted potential “prey.” If she got a negative reaction, her hand would discreetly slide back into place where it would stay until someone new came into view. Positive reactions were responded to with an enlightening comment and a pamphlet; her hand, desperate to feed their hungry spirits, would whip out of its hiding place to deliver the goods then immediately resume its position there in the bag on her lap and her eyes would continue to dart around the small space seeking out unassuming but ultimately interested Catholic riders.
And that was just one less normal than normal Metrobus ride. Well, I’ll be spicing things up here in just a matter of time…Kristen will be making her way Mexico City-ward in two weeks and after a week here in the City, we’ll be flying to Merida. From there we’ve made a tentative plan to explore Chiapas and Oaxaca (I’d love to squeeze Quintana Roo in but we’ll see) for 4 weeks. The only thing I’m sure of is that we’ll end up in Puerto Escondido one way or another! Even though I’ve already traveled a bit here, I must admit that I’m a little nervous and it’s not what you might think. I’m not nervous about my safety or money, nothing standard - I’m actually nervous about our experience being way less social than Asia was with Jess. In Asia there’s definitely a backpacker’s community and it’s comforting, but judging from my experience in what I like to call the State of Friendly People, Vera Cruz, backpacker’s here are kind of on their own and there aren’t many. More Mexican tourists than anything. The other thing is that Jess is in Asia again as we speak, either reliving our experience last year or overwriting them with better ones. In her case though, I’ve got to say that I’m more nervous for her safety and belongings…here’s hoping she doesn’t lose her camera, sleeping bag, passport, $300, credit card, and souvenirs this time. I’m going to stop being nervous now, start being excited about the upcoming adventure, and get some of this homework done.
