Culture Shock

Change is hard.  On the American Airlines plane from Mexico City, I heard the flight attendant speaking English in what was clearly an American accent, but I couldn’t help but speak to her in Spanish at first.  We transferred planes in Dallas, and as I approached the clerk at one of the convenience stores I started to think about what I needed to say, again, in Spanish.   When I went into the restroom I saw a man rinsing his mouth with tap water.  I had a little panic attack for the man before I remembered it was safe to do that there.

We also find ourselves looking for opportunities to break larger bills (twenties) and wanting to hoard small bills and change.  This is because in San Miguel, like many other places we’ve been, money is given out by the banks in bills too large to use at most businesses we frequent.  When we do go to a larger business or a nicer restaurant, we are thrilled at the opportunity to break a 100 peso (about $8) or 200 peso bill (about $16) and get smaller change.  It took a couple of purchases here in the States for it to sink in that we could break a twenty almost anywhere, and we could use the small bills whenever we wanted.

Amy experienced moments of transition on our trip up and during these first few days, too, but the biggest shift in thinking for her has been in the car.  In San Miguel, we’re in a motorized vehicle only about every 5 days, and usually that’s a bus, so Amy is still in the mode of thinking we should be on the left side of the road from her days driving in Ireland (she hasn’t driven since we left there months ago).  A couple of times while I’ve been driving here in Oregon, Amy has commented, “I really should not drive here – I keep thinking you should turn in to the left lane.”  Since I almost never drove in Ireland, my brain wasn’t rewired quite so much, but I do admit to being much more aware and cautious as I drive, since I’m afraid I’m going to mess up, having driven only a handful of times over the last two years.

The biggest surprise for us, though, is how we’re NOT reacting to being home.  Person after person told us before we left Mexico that we were in for a real culture shock when we got home, and more than one person has warned us that the sheer variety in the stores can be overwhelming to see.  Our friend Ivy told of returning to America after a year away and walking into a big store for the first time.  She began speaking to the jars of spaghetti sauce:  “There are so many of you.  Why are you all here?”  She couldn’t even buy anything on that first trip to the store.

So, when Amy and I went to the Fred Meyer, I told her I was going to go commune with the spaghetti sauce, but I didn’t start speaking to it.  Everything here has seemed so normal, so natural, that we haven’t experienced the culture shock at all, at least not yet.  We have a theory or two on why that is.  First, so many people warned us about it that we really thought a lot about what it would feel like to come back home.  Second, we’ve been to around 20 countries in the last two years, so we have gotten used to experiencing new cultures.

 

Thoughts on the Re-Entry into America

On 17 December 2007, Pat and I boarded a plane and flew to Ireland. Prior to this my international travel experience consisted of 3 days in Canada and a week in Cancun. This Monday, 14 December 2009, will mark the first time Pat and I have been back home since then. I’ve been thinking (maybe perseverating?) lately on what I am looking forward to and what I am going to miss. Some of them are pretty obvious, and some would never have occurred to me two years ago.

Looking forward to:

Seeing family and friends

Sitting on a comfortable couch while watching television

1% Milk

Listening to NPR while in the car

French Vanilla creamer in my coffee

A long HOT shower.  They have been rather infrequent for the past two months.

Drinking a Mike’s Hard Lime while playing Boggle/Scrabble/Quiddler with Pat and my sister-in-law Nora

Buying new clothes and binning the nasty stinky hiking boots I’ve been wearing since June

Artery clogging buttered popcorn at the cinema

Going for a hike in McDonald Forest

Going to miss:

Crossing the street regardless of what the crosswalk signal says

Mom and Pop stores on every corner

Colorful houses

Tiny cars

Driving on the left side of the road.  I finally retrained my brain for driving in Ireland, and now I will have to reprogram it . . . while driving someone else’s car.  Hmmmmm, is this wise?

Street food and agua fresca

Opportunities to speak Spanish

Swearing.  Ireland taught me well.  I really must try to clean up my language before I see my nieces and nephews.

The pleasure of meeting other travellers and sharing common experiences

The overwhelming friendliness and kindness we have encountered in San Miguel.  It is like no other place in the world in that regard.

 

Small Business

Ice Cream vendor in San Miguel de Allende

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

Many Americans tend to think of the U.S. as the place for small business people, but I suspect there are more small business people per capita in many of the countries we’ve visited than back home. Amy and I recently walked around our neighbourhood counting small family stores (think of a 7-11, but about 1/3 to ½ the size) selling pop, chips, and a few other things. Within a three block radius we counted 19 of these businesses. We may have missed one or two, and we weren’t counting all the other small businesses, like papelerias (paper and school supply stores), auto shops, small clothing stores, and many others. And this is a residential neighbourhood, as much as that means anything in a country where there isn’t any zoning, as far as I can tell.

There is the Mercado de Artesanias (three blocks long) where artisans sell jewellery, small crafts, tinwork, and so on. The shops vary in size, from about 8 foot square, to maybe twice that size. There are quite a few more carts on the streets here, too, selling ice cream, tacos, chips, you name it. Vendors may walk through neighbourhoods pushing a bike with a grinder on it for sharpening knives or carrying foods like jicama, corn, or tortillas to sell. They call out what they’re selling or, depending on their craft, they may have a particular whistle, horn, or recorded jingle that announces their presence.

People often don’t have many employment options even in places like San Miguel, which is fairly prosperous. In a city like Corvallis there are still large employers like Oregon State University and Hewlett-Packard, a few mid-size employers, and lots of small businesses that employ at least a few people. Most people in the States will never work for themselves or start a business, although with the recession I know more Americans have had to get creative in finding ways to support themselves and their families. Because the costs of starting and running a business are so much greater in America, though, a person normally has to really want to be an entrepreneur; here a person needs to be an entrepreneur just to survive.

 

Thanksgiving in Mexico

Thanksgiving in Mexico

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

Yesterday marked the first time we’ve had to worry about getting typhoid from our Thanksgiving dinner, but with any luck, it won’t be the last.

We had been invited to Thanksgiving dinner by a lovely retired artist, but sadly her mother’s health has declined so she had to cancel. We found out Monday, and there was plenty of time to make other plans. Because of the huge number of Americans living in San Miguel de Allende, many restaurants were offering a full Thanksgiving dinner of turkey and the works, so we knew we had options. Unfortunately, we didn’t make a decision on Tuesday and only started considering the possibilities on Wednesday, when it turned out to be too late to make reservations at some of the restaurants.

No worries, we decided we would just fix our own Thanksgiving dinner. I love to cook, and our very first Thanksgiving together was spent by ourselves, cooking our own meal, so this would just be like old times. Besides, we’re used to spending holidays on our own, having spent last Christmas in Egypt. I scouted the stores, trying to decide on an appropriate menu that could be prepared in our somewhat limited kitchen. We decided on a menu of beer-butt chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, homemade dressing, fresh baked bread from a local bakery, carrots, corn, apple sauce, fruit salad and dessert. We felt like this was a pretty good approximation of a Thanksgiving meal, considering what was on offer in town. The closest we could get to dill pickles, for example, was dill relish, so we would have to make do.

At ten o’clock Thanksgiving morning our power went out. We assumed it would be back on shortly but hour after hour passed with no change. I didn’t want to buy a chicken that may have been sitting out with no refrigeration for hours (this is done regularly at some places already even when there is power) which made me nervous the longer the power outage lasted. It turned out the power outage was limited to our neighbourhood, so we knew we could find properly cooled chicken when the time came. The apartment has a gas oven, so we could cook, but if we didn’t have lights we’d never be able to finish cooking once the sun went down.

It was a waiting game, and we lost. Because the power wasn’t back on until around six, we had no chicken, and no time to buy, prepare, and cook one. So, off we went to our favourite taqueria (in this case, a street vendor selling tacos) and feasted on gringas de pastor, which is like a quesadilla. I don’t really think there’s a risk of getting typhoid from places like this, but one of Amy’s friends said we were chancing it if we ate street food in Mexico. We’ve eaten at taquerias a dozen times with no ill effects, but I have to admit they don’t quite follow procedures that would stand up to the scrutiny of a county health inspector.

So, while it wasn’t exactly traditional, it was great food in a great city, and for that we were thankful. Besides, we simply pushed back making the full meal until tonight, and we did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself.

 

Life in San Miguel de Allende II

Pat and I have been talking about how much we are enjoying our time in San Miguel de Allende, but rather than just continuing to talk about the place I thought I would show you what one of our days is like.  Below is a photo essay on how we spent Pat’s 40th birthday.

We are house-sitting for a friend here in San Miguel and looking after her dogs, Mario and Jake.

Pat went out this morning to get a bottle of coke, and encountered a fiesta down at the end of our street at the nearby catholic church.  There seemed to be a battle of the bands going on.  In front of the church, young men and women dressed in native Indian costumes were dancing to a pounding drum beat…

…while at the same time, directly across the street about 20 feet away a band with trombones, french horns, clarinets , a tuba and drums played Mexican music.  Both groups seemed to be intentionally playing as loudly as they could in friendly competition.

While we were watching the festivities, our friends Eli and Joseph called and invited us to a birthday breakfast for Pat at Posada Corazon.

Pat's 40th birthday

We walked back home through the Jardín, where a Mexican Artisan Market is happening until 29^th November.  They are selling tapestries, hand painted wall-hangings, and mirrors like this one.

Things really picked up at the fiesta this evening with a live band, people dancing in the streets, and a small carnival with rides for the little kiddies.

Crowds at the fiesta

Carnival rides

This may seem like a unique and special day (and it was because it was Pat’s birthday), but we have stumbled across several parades and fiestas, and we bump into new friends and go to social events several times weekly.  This is just the way things are here in San Miguel.

 

Life in San Miguel de Allende

San Miguel de Allende

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

It’s been harder to keep up writing blog postings because things are so busy for us right now. We left Guadalajara to come to San Miguel de Allende, where we are spending fall term, and we’ve never been more active. San Miguel has about 70,000 residents, of which about 12,000 are ex-pats, mostly Americans, and the ex-pat community is really a community. We’ve been here less than three weeks and I think I know more people by name here than I did after living in Cork for 18 months. There’s always something happening, and we often run into people we know as we walk about town. Just this afternoon, Amy ran into Chip and Deborah, a couple from Texas we met shortly after we arrived, and today marked the fourth time she’s seen them since (I’ve seen them three times).

Let me use this week as an example of just how busy it gets here. The local paper has an insert with a calendar of events for the week, and after looking at this week’s issue, which came out Friday, Amy commented that there wasn’t much to do. So, Saturday Amy went to Zumba (an exercise/dance class) in Parque Juarez. Sunday we went for drinks at a retired artist’s house. Today I graded papers in the morning and afternoon, while Amy went to her photography class. We met to go to a movie made here in San Miguel, and tonight we are seeing an photography exhibit from the teachers for the Sante Fe Workshop, which runs classes here.

Tomorrow and the rest of the week, I’ll grade papers while Amy will continue to take her photography lessons. Tomorrow we have a dance lesson (which we bought at a silent-auction fundraiser a week ago) and tomorrow night I’ll go to a life-drawing session while Amy will attend a language exchange program at the library. Wednesday we have salsa lessons in the evening, and Thursday we’ll both go to the language exchange. Friday we have our Spanish lessons. And this will have been a slow week.

Really, we promise to do better and write more, if we can just find the time.

 

We Bid Goodbye to Europe

Agua Azul vendor

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

We bid goodbye to Europe (for now) and headed to Mexico. That we’re in Mexico might come as a surprise to some, since we had been talking for a year about returning to southern Spain to live in the village of Ojen for fall term. Unfortunately, in July, we heard about the Schengen Agreement. The treaty covers most of Europe and requires all signatories to drop their border restrictions within the treaty area, but beef up their border checks with any countries not in the Schengen area. It means that you can get on a train in one country and travel through several others without once showing your passport. But instead of having 90 days in each country (this seems to be the most common time limit for travel without a work or student visa) travellers have 90 days (out of any six month period) in the whole area.

We had spent too much time in the Schengen zone to stay there this fall, so we considered our possibilities. Should we head to Africa? Maybe the Balkans, which isn’t yet in the Schengen zone? Do we take the Siberian Express to Asia and spend a term in Thailand? In the end, Mexico seemed like a good choice because it would let us continue to work on our Spanish while seeing someplace new, and we’d just be that much closer to the States when we head home for the holidays.

We wanted to end up in Guanajuato, so we checked flights to Mexico City (about 4 hours away by bus) and on to Leon/Guanajuato airport but there was always a problem with the arrival time, the layover, the price, or something. We then noticed Guadalajara was just as close to Guanajuato as Mexico City, the prices were just a little better, and the arrival times not too bad. So, after about 20 minutes consideration we bought ticket to Guadalajara, Mexico.

We knew almost nothing about Guadalajara until we got there. It has a population of over a million people, and it turned out to be a great city. We planned to spend three days there, then extended that by four days, and probably would have stayed even longer had we found a good, inexpensive private room somewhere (the only downside of Guadalajara for us was accommodation).

What’s so great about Guadalajara? The food there was outstanding. We’ve since moved on from Guadalajara, and when we mention the food there, people always say it has the reputation for having the best food in Mexico. That’s easy to believe. At Karne Garibaldi, for example, I found myself making yummy noises every second bite. Seriously, I couldn’t stop doing it. If I described the food at most of the restaurants, it would sound pretty much like the Mexican food people are used to in the U.S. because it’s primarily a meat, some beans, and a salsa or pico de gallo, all wrapped in a tortilla (which is almost always a corn tortilla down here, unlike in America where flour is much more common). But it’s just different, trust me. And unlike places in America which always have the same large selection of tacos, burritos, enchiladas, tostadas, etc., some places here only serve one or two things. This is why Karne Garibaldi has the world record (something like 13 seconds) for getting a meal on the table after it’s ordered (the order pretty much consisting of the size plate you want).

It really seems Guadalajara is a very forward-thinking city, too. For several hours on Sundays, many of the main streets are shut down to automobile traffic so people can walk or ride bikes all over town. Because cars are still allowed on the cross-streets, every intersection has one or two people there to hold traffic until there is a break in the pedestrian and bike traffic. I don’t know if the traffic controllers were volunteers or paid, but either way it’s a massive undertaking. The parks department even has free bikes for people to check out if they need them. Many people headed toward the center of the city, which was also shut down to cars, and people filled the streets and shopped at the stalls of hundreds of vendors.

Actually, I could list so many other wonderful qualities about Guadalajara that this posting would fill a couple of pages. For a choice made entirely for its convenience, Guadalajara couldn’t have been a better jumping off point for our time in Mexico. We’ve already discussed that when we come back to Mexico (and we will) we’ll be sure to check on flights to Guadalajara first.

 

Cork Revisited

Our last stop in Europe was Cork, where we’d first arrived 22 months earlier.  We were going back to sort through a few things we’d left there, deciding what to ship home and what to take with us.  We also wanted to get some more travel shots, since we were headed to Mexico next.  But the real reason for the trip, the reason we spent a week there instead of a day or two, was to see old friends.

In that, the trip was a success.  Every night but the last we spent seeing friends, and it was great craic.  We visited some of our favourite restaurants, and saw all the new stores that have opened in city centre.  We’d only been gone a little over three months but it had changed quite a bit.

Our last day, though, reminded us why it was time to move on.  It was lashing rain, 1.5 inches that day, and those last minute tasks such as shipping things home, which would have taken less than 2 hours to do in Corvallis, took more than 7 in Cork.

Still, we’ll be back.  Shortly after leaving Ireland in June we began to miss our friends there, and we decided to put Europe back into our future travel plans.  It will be a few years from now, but we will return for a year or two.  Maybe someplace drier, though.

 

Eight Days in Paris

The Eiffel Tower

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

Paris was a delight. Contrary to any stereotypes Americans may have about the French in general or Parisians in particular, everyone we met was kind and understanding, despite our lack of any French language skills beyond bonjour and merci.

We had contacted a woman through Craigslist and arranged to rent what we thought was a room in her flat for our eight-day stay. When we arrived though, she gave us some instructions, asked if we had questions, handed us the key and left with her boyfriend. For far less then we would have paid for the most basic hotel room in Paris, we had our own private flat. It was small, very small, but it was in a great non-touristy neighbourhood and we loved it.

I won’t list all the sights, because you know what they are. I will say that the Louvre was not crowded because we went on Friday night, one of two nights it stays open late, and so avoided the daytime rush of tourists. We were able to walk right up to the main entrance and to buy tickets. We even got to within about two or three rows of gawkers beyond the velvet rope around the Mona Lisa, which is about as good as it gets, I think.

It’s fun to stay in a beautiful city like Paris long enough to have the chance to see some of the things many tourists do not. We walked through Bois de Vincennes, the Parc Des Buttes Chaumont, and the Bastille market, and we met up twice with a friend we’d first met in Montenegro. It is a wonderful city simply to exist in. A year or so ago we saw a movie called Paris, j’taime, or Paris, I love you. Now we understand it.

 

A Tale of Two Cities

Venice

Originally uploaded by Pat and Amy’s pics

Between finishing our time in Europe and heading to Mexico, we haven’t posted much recently. So, this is the first of three posts describing our last city visits in Europe (Venice, Paris, and a last goodbye to friends in Cork).

As we mapped out the ever-changing itinerary of our final weeks in Europe, Venice was the big question mark. On the one hand, it is a unique city of incredible beauty. On the other, it’s terribly expensive and overrun with tourists, even more so than other parts of Italy. Amy recently read a blog about a couple who had visited Venice and experienced a bit of shock when they got their bill for coffee at St. Mark’s square, most of it just for the privilege of sitting. Also, we had just read an article in National Geographic which explained that the tourist numbers keep increasing and the local population keeps dwindling, and the negative effects all that was having on the city.

In the end we couldn’t pass up the chance to go so we decided on a quick two-day visit. We arrived early on a Sunday morning, dropped our bags at our hotel, and wandered through the streets of the city, heading in the direction of St. Mark’s square, one of the main attractions of Venice. Because it was still so early and it was Sunday the square was pretty empty when we got there. It was a rare treat to be in such a place without fighting the crowds.

That entire first day was good. Venice is, of course, like no other city in the world, yet it’s all so familiar because of countless movies and TV shows. Amy described it as being on a big movie set, a feeling we had at times in London. I don’t need to describe what it’s like because even if you haven’t been there, you know already.

The second day we experienced all the things we had disliked about Italy the first time around, and a few extras to boot. It was Monday, so all the tourists were still there but the locals were also out in force heading to work, turning the charming narrow streets into claustrophobia-inducing torture chambers (and that’s from someone who loves caving). Nothing was as good as the day before, including our lunch, which was small, mediocre and expensive.

Worst of all, we made the decision to leave our bags at the train station (we were headed out to Paris that night) rather than at the hotel to save us time later. Unfortunately it meant spending €13 on a 15-minute vaporetto ride, basically the Venice equivalent of a bus ride. Then we stood in line for 45 minutes to leave three bags that would later cost us around €20 to reclaim. Every decision we seemed to make that day led to increased costs, long waits and crowds.

As we boarded the train to Paris, we were so glad to have seen Venice and to have experienced it, but we were pretty happy to leave, too.