Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival
Originally uploaded by Triana.

This guy taught himself!

Sunday Belongs to Horse People

This is the end of a long and fun day. My friends and I went to the annual Day Of the Horse festival. This is an extremely popular event, out of reach pricewise for many locals at $15.00 U.S. or $150 pesos to get in.

The setting is in the Adobe Guadalupe Valley, famous for its vineyards. In the midst of the activity showcasing different equestrian disciplines was wine tasting. There were all kinds of food and snacks, and it was very good! One could eat their way through this thing with no problem!

I ate two chicken tacos washed down with an apple soda. Later I indulged my Pacific Northwest roots and bought a frappucino which really went down well on a warm dusty day.

The equestrian displays were mostly mediocre by American/Canadian/European standards but these people were very proud of their show and some of the horses were absolutely gorgeous (see photos below, scroll down).

This was a truly cultural experience and I couldn't help but notice that perfection is not the goal; these people just do it. Timing was off, balance was bad and the skill level was unschooled but by golly, these people do what they can with what they have.

I couldn't help but be stricken by the enthusiasm and support of the nearly 2,000 member audience. It was endearing and as always, gave me a different perspective. I listened to people wrongly informing each other about things equestrian...it is difficult for me to acknowledge that I am living in the 21st century here. But we Americans are so addicted to "in-depth" and "completely accurate" information that it's difficult for my Anglo-Saxon American mind to not judge these people for being so undisciplined. It's all in the eye of the beholder, truly. These folks have grit. They love what they are doing. They are not doing it for money or prizes or prestige or competition. They are simply showing others what they can do. And people come. In droves.

I loved today and am still digesting my own reactions, automatic or not...watching how my mind insists that my knowledge and perceptions are correct.

I can see why other countries put us down for being self-righteous. We are. We work hard, we put everything we have into what we DO. This culture is so different. So very different. I've been hanging back all these months to see how I can fit in.

The lone jumper in this show informed me that he taught himself how to jump because there is no teacher available in Mexicali where he lives. They traveled for over three hours to do this show. Wow. I commended him for his performance. He does it simply because he likes it.

The encouraging information I gathered, though, is that Mexicans are very open to equestrian arts different from their traditional ones. As does every culture, they adopt a method to themselves, putting their own spin on it. Sometimes the results are good, sometimes not, but all the same everyone has a great time.

Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival photos
Originally uploaded by Triana.

They start dancing very young!

Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival photos
Originally uploaded by Triana.

An Escaramusa team from Ensenada shows their stuff

Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival photos
Originally uploaded by Triana.

Spanish Riding

Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival photos
Originally uploaded by Triana.

Here is a gorgeous Lusitano

And a video of him too!

Day Of the Horse Festival

Day Of the Horse Festival photos
Originally uploaded by Triana.

A proud Azteca Stallion

Saturday Night Belongs to Idiots

The following just happened last night and I am being lazy by copying an email I wrote to a friend after it happened...DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!

Okay so here I am, coming home from my English lesson
and a visit with my student/friend and her husband. I
stopped at a little convenience store on our block to
get ciggies and this stupid ass in a big car pulls in
behind me after honking madly at me while I was trying
to park. I ignored the idiot, parked and went in the
store. I came out and there was his car, blocking me,
and NO ONE IN HIS CAR. He hadn't gone into the store
either!!! Well finally I saw him get in his car and he
just SAT THERE taking his time and I got impatient and
started my engine. He didn't move so I put my truck
into reverse and he was parked so close to me, about
1" away that just the movement of my putting the truck
into gear touched his car. Well!!! He gets out of the
car and comes to my truck and immediately my
adrenaline starts. I got Zoila on my Nextel radio (we
only live at the other end of the block) and told her
what was going on.

The guy said to me something like "What is your
problem?" I said, "I want to leave!!!" He reached in
and punched me in the chest...not hard but enough to
REALLY PISS ME OFF. I still had the radio button open
and I yelled at him, "NO TOCARME!" (DON'T TOUCH ME!)
Well Zoila freaked out at that point and was on her
way to the little store. In the meantime the guy had
gotten back into his car and I was so damned mad I got
out of my truck, SLAMMED MY DOOR and went up to his
car. He quickly rolled up his window and locked his
door but his back window was down so I reached in and
grabbed the back of his neck. Well, then another guy
came up to me asking me to calm down and I kept
yelling "THIS ASSHOLE TOUCHED ME!!" the guy took off
in his car and guess what, I wasn't done yet! I
followed him...Zoila saw his car roaring down the
street to the gas station next door, and me roaring
past her in my truck. There she was, standing on the
sidewalk trying to flag me down and I just blew past
her HAHAHAHAHAHA

So the guy didn't know I was following him!!! He went
into the gas station as if to use their driveway to
turn around (I wonder if that whole time he was trying
to run away???) and I pulled up and blocked his
way!!!! Well that scared the piss out of him so he
went tearing out of the gas station, tires squealing,
and he hit a dirt road and started to fishtail. The
road was dark and I wasn't about to follow him and by
now a crowd had gathered at the gas station. I told
Zoila on the radio where I was (right next door) and
here at the house they could hear the guy's tires
squealing all over the place.

He came back to the gas station and tried to block me
in so I let him think I was going to smash his car, I
slammed into first and hit the gas and brakes at the
same time. OH MY GOD he peeled off and went blasting
down the street, away from me!!!!!! And that was the
end of it.

This was all very stupid and dangerous for me to do
but damn it, YOU DO NOT HIT AN AMERICAN WOMAN WHO HAS
PMS!!!!!!!!

At the end of it all I was shaking and angry and was
taken in by my little family here, given a Diet Coke
to cool off and lots of hugs. Then we called our best
friend and told her about it, at my request. She
laughed so hard! But then admonished me for being in a
situation like that in the first place and told me
never to do it again. I said I didn't really want to
repeat it. But she also said she was very proud of me
for scaring the little pissant.

Burning the Midnight Oil

Today it was 11 months exactly that I have been in Mexico. It was an uneventful day and at the moment I am taking a break from creating a brochure for my new video production business to continue rambling.

In the past few days I've had many more surprises and impressions, perhaps many of them inaccurate to the true Mexican style since I don't live on the mainland. Even my best friend here says she would experience culture shock going to mainland Mexico! Her kids are afraid to go there because of the reputation of violence there.

Many people move here from various parts of the country. It is interesting having moved from a predominantly white island community to one of brown. I really do stand out in a crowd and no matter how fluent I become in Spanish or how much I absorb this culture, I will always stand out.

One of my English students is half Mexican and half Japanese. Now there is a combination! Here in her own town, strangers come up to her and start speaking to her in English. She has to explain she's Mexican. When she went to school for a year in Japan, she didn't know Japanese and then the people there got all nasty with her because she is Mexican. According to her and the Japanese side of her family, the Japanese like Americans, the English and Australians and that's it. Mexicans are little more than street dirt to them.

I can't help but wonder where it began and where it will end, this appalling difference between peoples. Yes, we share the same emotions but what we do with them varies from place to place.

Since I don't know a lot of Spanish yet (my comprehension rate is about 30% on a good day), I have plenty of time to observe and try to figure things out. Most of the time my intuition is correct. If I don't understand something I will memorize the words and wait until I see an English speaking friend and ask if what I think I heard is really what I heard.

Lots of people say I am very brave for lock, stock and barrel doing a full immersion into a culture so foreign to ours. I don't think of myself as brave. I mean, it's not like I would try to do this in the Middle East or somewhere that is that foreign to me! I mean, I'm a bit adventurous but not crazy!

Okay that's it for today.

Lupita and Triana

Lupita and Triana
Originally uploaded by Triana.

My English student Lupita (who is a local folklore dancer) and me on the 123rd anniversary of Ensenada exhibition May '05

Life In Mexico

Life In Mexico
Originally uploaded by Triana.

Making tamales at the ranch on Christmas Eve '04

Life In Mexico

Life In Mexico
Originally uploaded by Triana.

A dancing Palomino

Life In Mexico

Life In Mexico
Originally uploaded by Triana.

At a ranch in the middle of nowhere, an ice cream truck on a hot day!

Bug Bites and Acronyms

When I wrote the preceding note my right hand felt like it was on fire. Some wretched thing had bitten me in the night and I woke up at 4:00 Sunday morning with the tortuorous experience of the itching and burning that wouldn't go away. I was half asleep and by the time I was fully awake I had taken the top layer of skin off the area. There were a number of little bumps indicating where the bites were and then came the hives, indicating an allergic reaction. Common opinion was that it was a fire ant. Thankfully the hives were confined to the area of damage. I think it's very rude to bite another thing when it is sleeping. Can't these pests find something else to do??? There are all kinds of yummy road kills they could be munching on, but nooooooooooooo, they prefer Gringa meat.

Midmorning yesterday we went to the pharmacist where I ruefully showed him my hand. He explained that it was a toxic bite (gee, do ya think???) and sold me some antihistamines which worked almost immediately to relieve the reaction. The problem is, it says on the box to only take one pill every 12 hours. In three hours my hand was itching and burning again but I could no longer do anything to relieve it for the pain. I put some antibiotic gel on the wound and oh my God, did it BURN! We called a nurse friend and she said if the cream made the pain worse, don't use it. But then I was told the second danger is infection. But I can't use the antibiotic cream! I am still trying to sort all this out, maybe I'll find a shaman somewhere who can smear something green and slimy on it. As long as I don't know what's in it, I don't care.

Now to add a few more thoughts to my previous blog. We were watching a movie yesterday and of course I listen in English and read the Spanish subtitles in order to learn new words and phrases. The acronyms drove me crazy. Here are two of them...

If you are listening to the news here and you can pick up a few words of it, they make a lot of mention of the EU. I was thinking for the longest time, "Why do the Mexicans care what the European Union is doing? Are they thinking of converting pesos to Euros?" The EU is mentioned every day here in lengthy terms. Then I saw an image of George Bush talking to President Fox of Mexico. The background didn't look at all European although they kept on about the EU. Well. Turns out the EU here is "Estados Unidos." the United States. D'uh.

In the movie we watched on DVD yesterday, someone called out for CPR but in the subtitles it showed up as RCP. Oh great, I thought. RCP????? After pondering that for almost 24 hours I finally asked what it stands for and found out it is Resucitacion Cardio Pulminar. I will never remember that. I can only hope that if I yell out CPR there is a dyslexic Mexican somewhere in the vicinity.

I can carry on a conversation with scientists, doctors, veterinarians and other professionals because the medical/technical terms are fairly close in both languages. But even after 11 months I can't say "Please pass the pepper." I don't have to say it because I normally don't put pepper on my food anyway. I can deal with most things that are critical with a professional but I don't know how to say knife, fork, spoon. I recently learned how to ask for oil for my truck. Car terms are easily translated as well if I tell the mechanic what the term is in English.

Of course I know most of the swear words in Spanish but I rarely use them unless I am joking. In traffic though I've been known to hurl a word or two. Fortunately I don't understand what they are saying back.

One thing Mexican men think is funny as hell to do is just blather a bunch of unrelated English words for sport and watch the gringo get confused. They love to play Let's Confuse the Gringo. Well, one day I'd kind of had it with that game and as I drove past the same pack of soccer-playing fun loving guys who loved to make me stop and wonder what they were saying, I played it back. I stopped, smiled, and said to them, "Hola! Insistiendos mistacos!" Then I drove away, watching them standing dumbstruck in the rear view mirror. I laughed all the way home. Having related that to my Mexican friends, they now think it's the funniest thing in the world to yell INSISTIENDOS MISTACOS! for no reason at all. And nobody gets the joke that doesn't know the story, so they confuse their own, which is even better!

These people have a crazy sense of humor. I consider some of it to be very mean, but that's maybe my Euro Centric thinking. Is mean the same thing around the world? Maybe so, maybe not. But these people love to have a good laugh at anyone's expense, including their own. So maybe it's not so bad.

Sometimes I feel like a cultural anthropologist, making my way through a society so different from mine and that of Europe. That's how I can cope with the loneliness sometimes is to pretend I am on a mission and learning the ways of the people like in all those films I saw in my college anthropology classes.

Thus begins another week as I hurtle toward my first anniversary of living here, which will be June 26. Wow, time flies!

Breaking My Brain

Communication in Mexico is something that, after 11 months, I have still to learn. It's not simply learning the language, it's the mind set!

I am trying to get used to the fact that my Anglo-Saxon ways are useless here. My brain is nearly done in every day by this culture that doesn't know how to say "no" or "I don't know." If I ask a simple question, it might be forty-five minutes of listening later and I am still unenlightened as to the answer...the monologue has taken a turn into a story about one's crazy brother who got on the wrong side of the Mexican Mafia.

Trying to make appointments, plan an hour or start a project involving anyone but myself is maddening. I see people going here and there, doing this and that and wonder how long it took for that particular action to occur.

Issues of money are interesting too. Since few people have it, it is generally shared. "Do you have 100 pesos?" and the Mexican friend will produce it for you immediately. If you are foreign, they know you will pay them back. If you are one of their own, they will wait until they need it rather than expect it back today or tomorrow. At that time, they will come to your house and ask for it at about 9:30 at night.

The ability to outwait each other is astonishing here. One will rent a piece of equipment at a certain rate, say 50 pesos a day. Four months later the owner of the equpiment calls indignantly for the equipment and says "Leave it at this location, I will be in a meeting." What this means is that they know darned well you're not going to pay and since they are so angry with you that they would like to rip your teeth out they choose to not be there. And no money is exchanged even though arrangements to discuss it "tomorrow" are made. I guess this is why everybody else has contracts.

What is very funny is that people here will do these things to each other, yet when it is done to them they are very angry.

I've been reading some online articles about Mexico and I still don't understand this wild culture any more than I did when I first got here. But Ensenada is not completely Mexico. After reading encounters of people in Guadalajara and Mexico City, I think I'll just not go there.

In reading accounts of others, I can see where Northern Baja is very Americanized. I can't imagine what would have happened to me mentally had I chosen a place in the interior. Well, I wouldn't have anyway.

As I engage in soul searching, it never ceases to amaze me how deeply programmed we are by our cultures. I have a better appreciation for what Gene Roddenberry did with Star Trek. But that was easy, watching Star Trek. After an hour you just turned off the television and got on with your life. Living in a culture so very foreign to mine is a challenge every day and I move between being thoroughly charmed to being completely disgusted.

Learning another language does not mean you are going to accept the mind set of the native speakers of that language. But as I turn inward and look out, sometimes feeling so homesick I think I am surely going to shrivel up and die inside, I investigate my own programming; I keep what is valuable to me. If it turns out that I'm the only one on the team, so be it...I'll just pick my projects that I can do alone.

As you can tell by reading this, this hasn't been the very best weekend. But there have been more best weekends than not here. So here I remain with my new people, in a distant galaxy, far far away.

Not Too Brown

I've noticed that when it gets warm here, the women tend to complain how hot it is. It doesn't get that hot here in Ensenada, but it can get quite warm. At the ranch, I dress in jeans and a tank top on the warmer days. The women who are at the ranch begin complaining about how warm it is while we are working.

They wear long sleeves and hats all the time. And once I said, wear a shirt like this, pointing to my tank top. "Oh, no!" they say. "We will look like Indians."

There you go. To call someone "Indio" here is an insult. It means that one is uncivilized, ignorant and dirty. The shade of brown is important here. Where in the U.S., people prefer to be tanned and not too white, here they prefer to be lighter. It's kind of a status thing, I guess.

I didn't realize that it was that important in Mexico. But here in the North of Mexico, the people tend to be a lighter shade of brown, or even as white as me. Lighter is better. They very much like the color that the Gringos turn when they're in the sun and wish they looked like that.

Yet their skin is such a warm shade of brown, it's very lovely and I don't understand what the big deal is. Of course, I'm not them.

A very desirable trait here is a Mexican with green eyes. Apparently that combination is of a rare tribe that is highly regarded.

These little racial things are, of course, left over from the days of Cortez. It's amazing how a mind set can change and stay there and no one questions it.

I encourage people to enquire, to find out why rather than just follow the herd. This is exactly what the government here doesn't want, people who enquire.

My partner read an article to me about people who do well in Mexico...most of them are not Catholic, or not practicing Catholics. They are educated and independent thinkers. They are in the minority. Education and the Arts are not supported here.

I notice that the support for the Arts is also falling apart in the U.S. When I was in school, music was part of the curriculum. It is here, too. Students learn to play a recorder, marimba, guitar. Music is a major part of their lives.

At a party, I asked what music I should bring. I was told, 80's music. There was also a mix of Mexican rock. When the Mexican rock was playing, everyone was dancing. When the 80's music came on, they all sat down. It was pretty funny. Music is in their blood, music that is a rich mix of their heritage and that of their conquerers so long ago.

We're now off to the ranch.

My Students Inspire Me

I love my English students. They are all very sweet people. I have noticed even in advanced speakers of English that there is still a problem with using "in," "on," and the feminine and masculine words "he,she." They will say "It is in the table" or "It is on the car." When speaking of women in the past tense, they will say "...and he said" instead of saying "...she said." The reason for this is that in Spanish, there is no separation between "in" and "on." There is one word only, "en." Same with possessives; instead of "his" or "hers" it's simply "su."

They are encouraged by my trouble with some Spanish words, and when I explain to them my problem with past and future tenses (there are FIVE tenses in Spanish) and figuring out whether the subject of my sentence is masculine or feminine, they don't feel so bad.

We discuss all kinds of things, sometimes resorting to Spanglish to make the point. It's really fun.

In addition to getting paid I always get snacks, such as coffee and cookies or little sandwiches and cake. These people are very generous and the warmth of being in their company is wonderful. They are such hospitible and grateful people, very open to me with their stories. They trust me and that is an honor. They will often tell me things even their spouses of families don't know. To be trusted with personal information and engage in psychological support is an amazing experience.

It is said that Mexicans are the 2nd happiest people in the world. It's not hard to believe. No matter what, these people find something to be festive about. They are happy people who love to have a good time. An invitation to play a game is always accepted, they love games and will often make a game out of something if there is nothing else to play with. Toothpicks, matches and bottle caps are no exception. If it can be played with, they will do it, young and old.

I love my new home more every day. These people are extraordinary in my eyes.

Some Things I Miss

This morning I went to the supermarket; I keep trying to learn not to be in a hurry.

I miss Safeway. I miss the speed and efficiency of moving people through the lines. This morning, there was hardly anyone in the store. With the customary Mexican way, I got to the "Express" line and the cashier had to call someone over to undo some transaction. Of course, this involved sliding a card through the terminal, writing and stamping about 57 papers, sliding the card again, this and that...it took me 20 minutes to get through the line with all that nonsense, and I was the only one in the line, purchasing four items! One would think that with computer terminals and such, things would move a bit faster. But no, Mexicans love to stamp their papers.

Same thing for going to the bank. In the U.S., we don't like lines so we do online banking. Heaven forbid we should wait for more than five minutes at the bank! Try three hours! Here you go to the bank and take a number. Then you sit down if there is any available seating. There may be 125 people ahead of you (this is NOT an exaggeration!). I've clocked it and the average transaction at a Mexican bank takes 10 minutes. Type this into the machine, get a printout, stamp, stamp, stamp, do something else, stamp, stamp, stamp, write something down, stamp, stamp, stamp, sign here...stamp, stamp, stamp. Going to the bank here is torture unless you have a good book to read!

The pleasure and pain of Mexico is a system without a system. At the gas station, you don't courteously pull up to the front pump. You pull up to whichever one you want. There is no self-service here, they pump your gas and wash your windshield if they feel like it. Most of the time they do. The gas station people are very nice. One woman who works at the gas station next door to me taught me how to say my numbers in hundreds, like "one hundred, one hundred and fifty, two hundred," etc. She always smiles at me when I proudly ask for the amount of gas she taught me how to say.

Driving is an adventure. Mostly you have to watch out for the microbuses and pedestrians and people on bikes and other cars and big trucks and the occasional donkey cart. Well, I guess you have to watch out for everything, really...a car accident here is a federal offense and no matter who's fault it is, both parties are arrested. If it is determined that it's your fault, you'd better have some extra cash to bail yourself out of jail! Most people here don't have car insurance; the person at fault has to pay for the other person's repairs. Period. The bad part about this is, you don't have insurance protection. You also can't go and buy a plasma TV with your payoff should you choose not to repair the car. This keeps expenses down quite a bit.

Mexicans love a bargain and are into quantity, not quality. Not surprising for a Catholic country where the average family has four or more kids. They love Wal-Mart. They think Wal-Mart is the best thing since the tortilla. They say the price is lower and the quality is higher. Well, the price is lower because there are no import fees. Quality? That's anyone's guess. Mexicans produce good quality things themselves, so I won't be surprised to see them become much more self-sufficient when it comes to superstores.

Milk is the same price everywhere. There is a standardized thing where things like milk, beans, tortillas, and a few other staples are kept at a low cost. Well, milk is expensive here, the price just shot up a few months ago. I am told that milk is cheaper in the U.S. and I believe it. A gallon of milk here costs about $3.50.

Other things are much cheaper; one can eat very well on about $5.00 a day here, or less. I've had three squares for less than $4.00 before.

You won't find the super organic, microbrewed specialty beers here. You have a few choices, mostly Tecate, Corona, Dos XX. The Mexicans don't like to import beer. They are very into their own beer.

Although I miss the speed of things that I don't like to do, I can't help but wonder if it's really better to know that something is going to take you a long time, like going to the bank. It really slows things down. The only place where Mexicans are fast is driving. Everything else happens when it happens, pretty much.

Living here takes a different sort of planning, but thankfully I had the experience of living in the provinces of England and the San Juan Islands before moving here. You learn patience there, waiting for ferries and such. Island life is anything but convenient. Still, Mexicans are more relaxed than the islanders are.

Now we move into Mother's Day...it's always on May 10, no matter the day of the week. It's very strange having Mother's Day on a Tuesday, but I thought it even more strange to have it in March, like they do in the UK. As long as mothers get celebrated, that's what's important. There are some very good ones out there! Don't forget to acknowledge them, even if they aren't your own mother.

Teaching English

For the past few months I have been teaching English to some Mexican people who work in industry. There are a lot of American companies in Mexico, especially in the border towns. Ensenada is the southernmost "border town" in Baja CA and it is exploding with activity.

The people I am teaching work for a compnay whose plant is moving to another city quite far away and most of them don't want to relocate. Mexico is suffering from exploitation from the U.S., companies looking for cheap labor (apparently under NAFTA). As the standard of living got better for Mexicans, the American companies decided to set up shop in Asia for even cheaper labor. This is leaving folks here high and dry, which is sad.

Anyway, back to my students...they are of varying fluency in English. All of them understand English but are hesitant to speak it. They all think they need to drop their accents. One can never really do that with a second language learned as an adult, so I tell tham that they will always have an accent due to individual speech patterns and not to worry about it. They don't like to speak English with their own people because they are made fun of. I tell them ignore that and speak it anyway and never, ever to be afraid to speak English with me.

I learn so much from my students and they all study in earnest. It's great. They are all so kind to me, they love their "Teacher." Once we begin the classes, my name is Teacher from then on. It's very sweet.

I love being a helping hand with English for these people. Never before did I understand that speaking English is the key to freedom for many people. Wow. English is the current language of power. I feel very sad that my own language is going to hell in so many ways...I well remember my English classes in school and although I never had any patience with "simple past" and "dangling participles" (I still don't), I do have an investment in my language. I love its origins, looking up words and how they began. My students have the same enthusiasm now.

Since Latin is the root of Spanish and English is a descendant of German, the divergence is huge. Learning Spanish is expanding my mind a lot, giving me insight into the mindset of an entire culture with a rich and varied history. It almost feels like the days of old when Latin was the dominant language and only those affiliated with aristocracy or the church learned it.

Illiteracy runs rampant in this country due to school expenses being so high. Uniforms and school supplies are often beyond the reach of most of the population. I have never so much appreciated education as I do now. It is an honor and a privilege to teach these people. Once they are fluent enough, we can discuss philosophies, opinions, anything! It is terrific to look into the minds of my students, to learn their personal histories, their dreams and goals and their ideas about life.

Ten Months

Well, I've been living in Mexico for 10 months now, with my three horses. Ensenada isn't really "Mexico" proper, it's in Baja CA, which is very different than mainland Mexico.

Ensenada boasts the highest number of scientists per capita than anywhere else in Mexico. It's not so very different from some places in the U.S., other than people can get away with a lot more here.

The people are basically warm and friendly and appreciate efforts to speak in their own language.

I hope you will enjoy perusing these pages as I add to them.