13 posts from January 2008

20 January 2008: Hmm…MEAT…what is it good for (in India)? Absolutely nothing!

“There are animals in India, right?”

“Yes.”

“But if Indians, don’t eat meat, then what do they do with the animals?”

That seems to be the question of the week. I just got asked it for the fourth time in two weeks. I don’t mind being asked it nor do I mind answering. In fact, every time I manage to answer it in Spanish, my now Spanish-speaking ego grows a little. Besides, I find the question interesting because it reveals something about the person asking it. By the way it is framed, the question appears to reflect the belief that animals exist solely to serve humans. In a sense, implicit to the question is the dominion of humans over animals and I cannot help but wonder whether this may be yet another example of the pervasive influence of Catholicism in Mexico. Of course, your guess is as good as mine, but I thought I should fill you in on this random observation.

19 January 2008: Breaking news…

Those of you who know me and find my pathetic inability to swim amusing may find this news disappointing, but I have finally discovered how to swim…well, maybe not quite swim, but I can certainly tread water and occasionally even get some forward movement going. It’s not much, but I think it’s a stroke in the right direction. If I make any more progress with learning how to swim during the course of this trip, I’ll keep you posted. Until then, don’t stop making fun of my inability to swim…

18 January 2008: Where have all the classical Mayans gone?

From the intricate designs to the sheer size of their architectural projects, the grandeur of the Mayan civilization is transparent. I was reminded of this simple fact when I visited El Museo de Antropologia (Museum of Anthropology) today in Merida. And as I took in the utter complexity of Mayan civilization, it all begged the question: What happened to the Maya?

Just like the search for what killed the dinosaurs, a plethora of theories have been proposed as to what ultimately led to the demise of the Maya. Although the answer is likely to be a confluence of factors, a recent National Geographic article suggested that one of the key driving forces was that the Mayans had simply exhausted their environmental resources. For instance, one investigation has shown that in order to produce the stucco and other raw materials necessary for their building projects, the Maya would have generated deforestation at an astonishing pace. Thus it seems that along with its escalating grandeur came the escalation of environmentally unsound practices whose effects, in time, contributed to its downfall.

But this begs yet another question: Didn’t the Maya realize that their practices needed to change when they began to feel the environmental consequences of their actions? How could a civilization so advanced not recognize an environmental problem until it had been pushed beyond the point of no return? I believe that the answers to these questions lie in the hierarchical nature of Mayan society. Given the stratification of Mayan society, the person principally deciding how to use collective environmental resources, the ruler, was – by the very nature of his entitlement – also the person most isolated from the environmental consequences of his decisions. Such continued disconnect between decision-makers and their respective consequences is bound to result in grave misuse of resources.

Of course, such insight – if it is indeed true – does more than illuminate the past. In fact, given the obvious parallels between the stratified nature of Mayan society and that of our own, it may very well illuminate our future. After all, I live in a country where the greatest consumers of environmental resources, the rich, are also the ones best sheltered from the effects of environmental overuse and I also live in a country which, despite being the greatest contributor to climate change, is the one least likely to feel the immediate impact of climate change. Thus it seems that there are vital lessons to be learned from our Mayan counterparts. That is, of course, if we as a society hope to avoid – what Jared Diamond would describe as – collapse.

17 January 2008: Story time…

After my Spanish grammar class every day, I have a course on the history and culture of Mexico and, more specifically, the Yucatan. Recently, I came across two interesting stories about Yucatan culture that I thought you might find interesting. The first is about panuchos, a glorious combination of tortilla, beans, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, cheese, and either chicken, turkey, or hard boiled egg that was invented right here in the Yucatan. Legend has it that one day, a starving customer stopped at a small restaurant and asked the cook what he had. The cook apologized to the customer as he explained that he had only leftovers from which he could make nothing. But the customer insisted on having something and so the cook finally gave in and decided to throw something together. When the customer tried the cook’s creation, he immediately fell in love with it and asked the cook what he called this dish. The cook replied that there was no name for it, it was just something he had put together on the spot. After hearing this, the customer decided to name the dish after the cook. Since the cook’s name was Jesus, the creation was named pan de Chucho. In Mexico, Chucho is the nickname for Jesus and so pan de Chucho translates to bread of Jesus. Over time, the name pan de Chucho was shortened to panucho. So, what exactly is a panucho? It’s pretty simple really. To make one, you first stuff a tortilla with beans and then fry it. Then, you top it with lettuce, onions, tomatoes, cheese, and your choice of meat or a hard boiled egg and there you have it, a panucho.

I also learned another piece of cultural history today that was incredibly interesting. It turns out that Mayan women used to adorn their blouses with a type of jewelry known as a makech. A makech is essentially like a brooch but consists of jewels studded onto the shell of a live beetle. Also studded onto the beetle’s shell is a small chain attached to a safety pin, which ultimately attaches to a blouse. Since the beetle is alive, it does walk around on the blouse but it cannot wander very far since the chain is very short. Legend has it that the very first makech was the result of a forbidden love. It goes something like this…Once upon a time, there was a couple that society forbid from being together. The woman cried day after day because she could not see her love. But eventually, a shaman heard her cries and decided to turn her lover into a makech so that she could wear him close to her heart. Although the legend is obviously fictitious, makeches are certainly not. I spotted some in the market place today and I’ll post some pictures of them soon.

13 January 2008: To shoot or not to shoot? That is the question…

I struggle to decide whether to take my camera out or not. Part of me finds value in documenting the injustice while another part of me cringes at the thought of putting the poor on display. In the end, I decide to keep my camera in my pocket as I take in the scenes of an impoverished Mayan village from the backseat of a 12 passenger van.

Steady advances in infrastructure and commerce have certainly raised the quality of living in Mexico but poverty, especially in rural sectors, still remains. And for the most part, the victims of such poverty appear to be the indigenous peoples and children of Mexico.

It is not difficult to see why, when a Mayan family is forced into conditions of subsistence living in the Yucatan, the hope of getting a foot onto the first wrung of the ladder of economic development vanishes quickly. In terms of cash crops and other economic development opportunities, the geology and climate of the Yucatan offer unimaginably little to a Mayan family of six struggling to live off the land. The seasons here alternate between a long dry season and a short rainy season in which roughly the total annual rainfall of Pennsylvania, a relatively modest sum, is compressed into brief bursts of rains. To reduce agricultural productivity even further, the land here consists of limestone and thus, retains no water. As a result, many subsistence families are forced to resort to slash-and-burn farming, an environmentally destructive practice that ultimately produces diminishing returns.

As despairing as this situation is, there is hope and I am compelled to stress that although rural poverty in Mexico in part (emphasis on in part) arises due to natural factors such as climate and geology, it is by no means inevitable or a “natural” event. Sustainable solutions that promote socioeconomic development through environmentally responsible practices have been developed and successfully implemented in the past and can be for the Yucatan as well. In fact, I’m willing to bet that rural poor here already know the right solution. What we need to do is stop taking photographs and begin to listen.

12 January 2008: Cenotes and subterranean cliff diving…

I just went swimming in cenotes and it was, undoubtedly, one of the best experiences of my life! So, what are cenotes? Well, they are just like lakes with beautiful blue water except for the fact that they are completely underground, which makes them look as if they are right from the pages of a National Geographic magazine. Picture caverns filled with giant stalagmites and a small opening in the roof of the cavern through which the sun shines. While the roots of trees and vegetation line the opening of the cavern, the sun cannot reach the other end of the cavern and so you often see bats flying on the darker end. In fact, one of the cenotes we visited had the roots of a strangler fig hanging down from the cenote opening all the way to the surface of the water (about a 50 foot descent). Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention that the floor of these caverns is completely submerged under anywhere between 10 to 100 feet of water and the water is surrounded by climbable rocks that are perfect for cliff diving.

It turns out that cenotes are unique to the Yucatan because of its distinct geological features. The land within 80 km of the shoreline in the Yucatan is incredibly flat and made of limestone. In fact, you can think of it as a giant Tums antacid tablet. As a result, rainwater passes right through the ground and forms subterranean water systems. Hence why you’ll never spot a pond, creek, stream, river, or lake in the Yucatan – they are all hidden underground. At areas where the subterranean water builds up pressure, the ground caves in, creating an opening through which the water can be accessed. Here, such openings are known as cenotes and they riddle the landscape. In fact, particularly large cenotes can always be found near the remains of ancient Mayan cities because the Mayans of northern Yucatan used to create holes to access the water in cenotes. Many of the contemporary Maya still use cenotes for water.

Of course, after swimming in the cenotes, I was all caught up in how exciting of an experience it was and I couldn’t help but think about the fun that such simple, often hidden, pleasures such as cenotes hold. It made me realize that despite the advent of videogames and iPods, the greatest pleasures in life will always be derived in the same way the always have.

11 January 2008: Where have all the waitresses gone?

Despite having one of the most progressive constitutions, Mexico suffers from a glaring divide between its theory and practice of the constitution, an observation that becomes transparent simply by eating at any restaurant in Merida. So far, I’ve been to a couple restaurants here and have yet to see a single waitress. When I asked a couple of the local folks why this was, their answer was short, but unequivocal: discrimination.

Of course, finding sexism here in Merida does not come as a surprise. After all, despite its relative prosperity and progressive strides, the United States certainly still suffers from pervasively menacing sexism. However what is surprising about the sexism here in Merida is the degree to which some women appear to have internalized these self-denigrating stereotypes. For instance, in a recent conversation with a couple of women here in Merida, I was stunned to hear several comments along the lines of, “But you know, Aakash, it makes sense that a woman has never been president in Mexico. They are way too emotional and weak-willed to lead a country.” Interestingly, they said this despite the fact that several Latin American countries have already successfully been led by female presidents.

Of course, before I get ahead of myself, I must stress that I only spoke to a couple of women and that they were in no means representative of Mexican women or even Yucatacan women as a whole. Thus, no conclusions or generalizations can – nor should – be drawn from the conversation I mentioned above. I simply felt compelled to share a bit of that conversation because it reminded me of how discriminatory social structures are often capable of internalizing their insidious effects in their victims. And in doing so, they create mind-forged manacles from which liberation becomes – excuse my lack of eloquence – damn near impossible.

10 January 2008: A little song and dance…

I learned about traditional Yucatacan music and dance today. It seems that the majority of musical tradition here falls under the category of trovas, which are small groups of musicians and singers whose instrument of choice is the guitar. You can think of trovas as serenading mariachis or musical troupes, which are actually what they are derived from. In fact, the concept of a trova arose in the Middle Ages and then reached Mexico shortly after the Conquest. After arriving on the Mexico main land, trovas spread out throughout Mexico and South America with the influences of each country shaping a unique style of music. For instance, in some countries, the tempo of trovas is relatively energetic and the lyrics are highly politicized, a mark left from the days of struggle for independence from colonial rule. Here in the Yucatan, trovas tend to play with a relatively slow tempo and all of the songs are either about romance or heartbreak.

In addition to visiting El Museo de Las Canciones Yucatecos (The Museum of Yucatacan Songs), I was able to see las serenatas y jaranas, a showcase of traditional Yucatacan trovas and dance. One of the things that struck me the most about the concert and my discussions with local people was that similar taste for music happens to be shared between the generations here – at least, much more so than is in the United States. Granted, the youth here still have their own, distinct taste in music, but they also seem to enjoy the music of the generations before them as well. This is something I hardly see back in the US, where kids seem to hate their parents’ “oldies” and parents can’t stand their children’s “rap” music. Of course, there are exceptions, but on the whole, it seems that tastes in music between adults and kids seem to overlap here a lot more than they do back home.

9 January 2008: The history of Merida five quick sentences…

It’s a small world after all. That was my only thought as our tour bus slowly drove north from the southern tip of Merida and recited the history of this beautiful city. But before I explain why, let me first take you through the Incredibly Abridged History of Merida 101.

Merida, now the capital of the Yucatan, was originally a Mayan stronghold by the name of T’ho. It repeatedly staved off attempts to conquest it until Francisco de Montejo finally took the city by force in 1527. Upon his conquest, Montejo dismantled the Mayan structures of T’ho and used the stone to build his own home, churches, and necessary offices, an act executed as much for pragmatic concerns as for ideological purposes.

In subsequent years, Merida remained a modest city until henequen became a precious commodity in the international markets. With the rise in market value of henequen, a durable fiber derived from agave plants endemic to Yucatan, came an incredible influx of wealth into Merida. In light of their new found wealth, many henequen plantation owners exchanged their relatively modest domestic vacations to places like Mexico City with more baroque trips to the cultural centers of Europe.

Upon their return from Europe, the elite of Merida felt inspired and began to incorporate classical French, Italian, Spanish, and Arabic styles into their architecture and ways of life. The most notable of these influences is Paseo de Montejo, the city’s main street that extends northward from the center of the city to its northern edge and is modeled after the Champs D’Elysses in Paris.

Of course, associated with the construction of Paseo de Montejo was a demographic shift. While the plantations remained in the southern end of the city, the elite of Merida began to relocate their mansions along Paseo de Montejo and in the northern part of the city. As a result, a modern-day bus tour of Merida reveals a socioeconomic cline, starting with the relatively poor in the South and gradually ending with the excessively wealthy in the North.

So, why is it a small world after all? The reason that thought came to mind was because the axis of inequality in Merida parallels that of global inequality in many ways. In both cases, the resource flow from South to North has left the North relatively wealthy with the South having to paying the majority of environmental externalities associated with unmitigated resource extraction. But, I digress, all of that is really a story for a different time.

What I appreciated most about the tour was that it reiterated the fact that there is a history shaping present day inequality. Learning the history of Merida vis-à-vis the divide between the affluent and the down-trodden reminds us that the inequality we see today is a direct consequence of the past.

Although it is a seemingly simple idea, it is often overlooked. A quintessential example of this is when people observe the link between race and poverty in the US and then go on to say it exists because the poor don’t work hard enough or don’t take advantage of the opportunities given to them. When people do this, they examine the present without taking into account the history that created such circumstances, thus abstracting the present from the past in a way that leads to flagrant misconceptions and false conclusions. Ultimately, this, I believe, is what makes the study of history one of humankind’s most essential endeavors.

8 January 2008: Yet another perk of the tropics…

Today, I discovered yet another reason to love the Yucatan: chocolate! It turns out that cacao, the plant from which chocolate is derived, is endemic to this region of the world. In fact, the birthplace of chocolate is none other than the cradles of indigenous Mexican civilizations. Indigenous Mexicans considered chocolate to be the food of the Gods; hence why Theobroma cacao, the scientific name of the cacao tree, translates to “food of God.” They mostly consumed chocolate in liquid form but their hot chocolate was nothing like our own because instead of using sugar, milk, and the occasional marshmallow, they mixed chocolate with chile powder and water. I actually tried “ancient” hot chocolate today and although it was good, I’d still swap it for hot chocolate as we know it in a heartbeat.

So, how’d chocolate get from indigenous Mexicans to Hershey, Nestle, and Cadbury? Christopher Columbus was the first one to bring Mayan chocolate back to Europe however it wasn’t popular until Hernan Cortes brought it to Europe for a second time around when it was eventually mixed with sugar. After that, its near universal popularity was quickly achieved.