Well. Mexico. The first thing you notice when you look around here is how green it is. Everywhere the countryside is covered with a veritable riot of vegetation. Even the fields are different mostly because the trees or plants are all arranged in straight lines.
The second thing you notice is how poor the people are. Even many of the nicest houses and buildings (few though they are) have a look of fraying around the edges; the poorest are simple bundles of sticks. Of course, this is a general impression covering a trip of 1700 miles, from Lubbock all the way to the Cintalapa, Chiapas, the southernmost state of Mexico. The average, however, falls well on the poor side of the line. Middle class people are rare in Mexico; Most of the people are very poor, and a few are very rich. Most of this anyone reading this probably already knows or guessed, but there it is for the sake of completness.
The people here at the clinic are a strange combination of friendly and hesitant, eager to say hello and to talk, but hesitant mostly because they can tell I have little practice with the language. Much of the time is spent looking at each other, understanding each other, but not having anything to say important enough to make the effort of crossing the language barrier: me of putting together sentences in Spanish (while nervous since I'm not used to using it) and them unsure whether I'll understand what they say or not. To cross into more territory probably already guessed by anyone reading, with some people we just take off in a conversation, but with others, I can barely understand a word, however hard I try.
Today we went to visit a friend of my grandparent's name Yuri (after the Russian Cosmonaut). Yuri is one of those blessed people who is bilingual, speaking good English even though Spanish is his native tounge. His children (around my age (woot!)) only speak Spanish, so I had a great opportunity to practice, able to ask Yuri about words I didn't know. I didn't need him to translate any of the Spanish for me though, which, thinking back, is a little surprising. I was able to understand nearly everything that was said to me without too much trouble.
Well, I also found out that the nine dollar camera I bought in the States when I discovered I had left my own at home is, well, worth about $9. The pictures I took of the clinic and some ruins we stopped at on the way look all right, but they are all a little blurry. Oh well, I guess I got what I paid for.
The second thing you notice is how poor the people are. Even many of the nicest houses and buildings (few though they are) have a look of fraying around the edges; the poorest are simple bundles of sticks. Of course, this is a general impression covering a trip of 1700 miles, from Lubbock all the way to the Cintalapa, Chiapas, the southernmost state of Mexico. The average, however, falls well on the poor side of the line. Middle class people are rare in Mexico; Most of the people are very poor, and a few are very rich. Most of this anyone reading this probably already knows or guessed, but there it is for the sake of completness.
The people here at the clinic are a strange combination of friendly and hesitant, eager to say hello and to talk, but hesitant mostly because they can tell I have little practice with the language. Much of the time is spent looking at each other, understanding each other, but not having anything to say important enough to make the effort of crossing the language barrier: me of putting together sentences in Spanish (while nervous since I'm not used to using it) and them unsure whether I'll understand what they say or not. To cross into more territory probably already guessed by anyone reading, with some people we just take off in a conversation, but with others, I can barely understand a word, however hard I try.
Today we went to visit a friend of my grandparent's name Yuri (after the Russian Cosmonaut). Yuri is one of those blessed people who is bilingual, speaking good English even though Spanish is his native tounge. His children (around my age (woot!)) only speak Spanish, so I had a great opportunity to practice, able to ask Yuri about words I didn't know. I didn't need him to translate any of the Spanish for me though, which, thinking back, is a little surprising. I was able to understand nearly everything that was said to me without too much trouble.
Well, I also found out that the nine dollar camera I bought in the States when I discovered I had left my own at home is, well, worth about $9. The pictures I took of the clinic and some ruins we stopped at on the way look all right, but they are all a little blurry. Oh well, I guess I got what I paid for.
1 Comments:
Mexico is green? Really? Actually, believe it or not, I've never been. I'd like to though. Excellent information here. Thanks for sharing.
Post a Comment
<< Home