The other day I was in a really bad mood. All this stuff had piled up on my desk at work and on my shoulders outside of work and it was just one of those days. One bad look or the wrong type of comment and it's all over. So naturally, as I was walking outside to get something out of my car, a man happened to be driving by in his old beat-up pickup and decided he should let me know his opinion by specifically rolling down his window at the moment I was heading back into the house and give his best "hey baby" whistle he could muster followed by a couple "tst tst!" in case I hadn't got his drift. That's it, buddy. Wrong day.

Now maybe you're thinking I turned around, marched over to his car, and gave him a good ol' piece of this young, liberal, feminist's mind. On top of the day I had already had, the last thing I needed was some skeezy old man thinking there was anything positive that would come out of his spontaneous and unacceptable actions. Sorry to disappoint you. But for me, at that moment, the energetic middle finger I threw back at him was sufficient enough to quench my thirst for a retort. Didn't turn around, just flipped him the bird and headed back toward the house. Right before I made it to the front door, I heard him yell out in response "Double back to you!" (the translation takes away from its effect), slam on the breaks, and I was able to catch a glimpse of him sitting in his truck staring back before I entered the house.

In writing, I don't think this story should necessarily be traumatizing or cause for concern. But my immediate reaction would prove otherwise. As soon as I got into the house, I realized my heart was pounding, my stomach felt weird, and I didn't know what I was feeling. I went into the bathroom and realized tears wanted to come to my eyes. Why? Probably because the day was so overwhelming even a little kid givin' me the eye would have freaked me out. But why else? Because this man chose to rob me of the security that I thought I could have at least in front of my own house. He stopped outside my house and not only knew which car was mine, but which house was mine. He knew what I looked like and he knew I had an attitude. He thought that he had every right to express himself in that manner because hell, why not? And I had to give him that right.

Why? Because if I choose to deny him that, I have no idea what his response could be. When he yelled back at me, obviously surprised by my outward expression of disapproval, something he was fully not accustomed to, maybe it was all in jest. He did it with a smile and got a kick of out of this young guera who thought she was badass. Then again, because I didn’t see him when he did it, maybe he did it pissed off. Maybe he was so appalled by a woman who thought she could respond to a man in that way. Maybe all he wanted to do was get out of his truck, run over to where I was, and respond to my reaction in whatever way he chose and the only thing holding him back was the fact that it was broad daylight and neighbors were all around. Maybe that was the only thing that kept me from "getting what was coming to me".

Maybe it's an overreaction. Maybe absolutely nothing could have or would have happened. But should I be willing to take that risk? Should a guy pissing me off be worth the possible result of his own response?

Did this happen because I live in Mexico? For those of you think the answer to that question is yes, wake up. Get real. Perhaps it's more plausible for it to happen in Mexico because the cultural norms do not perceive his behavior to be as offensive as that of the United States. Does that mean there aren't men that want to do it every day and the ONLY reason they hold back is because of the social criticism they know they would have to deal with? So for me, a young woman who wants to feel comfortable walking alone outside my house, what am I supposed to do when there is only one reason standing between me and a violation of my personal freedom and that one thing, like the daylight, something that changes from one moment to the next, or a neighbor, someone who could just as easily walk back inside, changes in the blink of an eye? As of now, what do I do? I deal with it. Why? Because I have to.
(...to the full post)

So I wanted to see what you think. This is something that I've definitely been aware of for a while but haven't really felt the need to, wanted to, or known how to address personally whether it be actively or just in understanding. Obviously the topic of sexual harassment and/or discrimination in is challenging to tackle no matter who, where, or what you are talking about, so throw in a couple other cultural and language differences and you're got yourself in a regular ol' pickle.

You can often chalk up a lot of workplace or business situation awkwardness in another country to language barriers and/or cultural differences. Calling someone by an improper title, using inappropriate language without realizing it, or going in for an informal cheek kiss when you're really supposed to shake hands- par for the course. But then there are those times that you wonder whether you are just letting something inappropriate slide because you don't know how to react. That certainly stems directly from the perspective I have being a female, as in most cases, but what I'm not sure of is when that changes or is adjusted because I am in a different culture and furthermore, if I should be ok with it. Because of the context I am writing from, the only case I can address is harassment coming from a male to a female.

A few examples come to mind. In terms of the two workplaces I have here, one is a U.S.-based organization that employs only two men, one the husband of the director, and the other a native Mexican man, and I have faced a total of 0 intimidation or discomfort. In the other, a native Mexican high school and higher education facility (of all places), the story has been different. While I have found the environment to be very professional and organized, it is also very much so run by the "club" mentality, either you're in or you're out, no in between. Because of that fact, I have come across various individuals who feel they have more right than others to say what they deem appropriate. That's not to say anyone has every directly come out and said something inappropriate, that would be too obvious. But I have been in the presence of male colleagues, one being my supervisor, who either refer to a female colleague in a way we would call "too friendly" or make comments, I'm sure according to them in a joking manner, about their work ethic, conduct, or appearance. Used to inappropriate hootin' and hollerin' in the streets, I'm constantly on the defense. Although I had never felt uncomfortable with the afore-mentioned supervisor, there was a time when another male colleague of his made a comment to him privately, turned and "pointed" at me with his eyes, and my supervisor just smiled in agreement and nodded. I stand out here. It's a fact. But, we can call it paranoia or we can call it questionable. Whatever we do, we need to put it in context. Personally, I let it completely roll off my shoulders. Later on I got really pissed at myself.

Another "higher-up" at school made more than one comment during orientation in front of all the teachers about how lucky he'd feel to have me as his teacher and get to look at me all day. Thanks, old man. But it's allllll done in good ol' fashioned fun so I don't worry, right? I need to remind you- this is all relative. This is not a daily occurrence nor one that has ever become an up-front issue at work. But does that make it roll off your shoulder material?

I have a close friend who is a lawyer and works for the state penitentiary. Within an already frighteningly-flawed system, she goes to work everyday to see the people who we hope to never meet that have done things that we don't even want to think. She's badass. She does her work and she does it well. And that intimidates her supervisor. Actually, it pisses him off and he lets her know it. Some people just don’t know what to do with a strong-willed woman here who doesn't take shit. Now, granted there is a large majority of workplaces that are like that all over the world, but in a low-income community where over half of the households in the entire state have a family connection to migrants in the U.S., employment opportunities are not what we would call abundant. And naturally, for Mexican women, they are much less prevalent. So put that together with a Mexican mama who knows what she wants and you may just have yourself a spooked supervisor. One, like that of the friend I mentioned, who gives you more (unpaid) night and weekend shifts than other employees, threatens you with being let go because you didn't show up for work on Friday despite the fact that you asked for the day off three months prior, talks about you behind your back concerning your "lazy work habits" and "sense of entitlement" (where did he pull THAT out of???), and is just a plain asshole when it comes to issues you may have.

If someone says something that makes you feel uncomfortable or unjustly targeted, it's wrong. But what about if it's more culturally acceptable? Who says it's culturally acceptable or not? What does that even mean? I again, hate these kinds of things because I have trouble separating an issue from what could be the actual reality. And one of the realities here is that sexual harassment is actually addressed at times with such in-the-face campaigns as this one from almost two years ago. Granted, it has its critiques but it's an effort nonetheless. I should say that I have been more than impressed at times with the level of professionalism and level of commitment shown by those I work with but at the same time, flaws shouldn't be ignored.

We won't ever disagree that any form of harassment in the workplace is wrong but where do we get these ideas? What context did we form them in? What experiences have we had to make us feel that way? Why do those guidelines travel across borders when at the same time the argument is the opposite when we talk about things like the U.S. valuing work and money over family time? Microwaved dinner and Mickey D's over family meals and Sunday get-togethers?

Do you see what I'm saying? I think it's wrong. But that's because of who I am. The white woman from the U.S. who has actively put herself in open-minded environments her entire life before coming here. I'm going to keep playing with this one in my head and see what happens.
(...to the full post)

Have you seen the movie The White Masai? Is it well-known? I had never heard of it until a friend here in Zacatecas lent it to me. I believe her exact description was: "It won't be your favorite movie…but you have to see it. For the experience." Ay Dios was she right.

I mean I had seen similar movies before. The kind where it's in your face, no avoiding the reality, you live in a bubble type movie. But this one hit me in certain places I wasn't expecting and I think part of it was due to the context I watched it in.

To begin with, there are three languages spoken in the movie: English, German, and the native Masai (an African tribe) language. So I understood some, and the other parts I was reading with Spanish subtitles. Changes the experience. Then, as it began, so ignorant and naïve is the little white girl, I say to myself, hey, it's kind of like my story! A woman leaves her home to go live in a foreign culture to enjoy not only it, but also the person she has fallen in love with! Right. Not only grossly generalized, but I'm not sure I could have been more off.

It's the (Hollywood version, I'm sure) story of a Swiss woman who experiences love at first sight with Samburu warrior in Kenya. She leaves her old life behind to begin a new one with him. Based on the book that tells the true story, you are constantly wondering- could I/ would I do something like this? I mean, the entire movie, it was like my little inner-gender alarm was blaring in this sickeningly high-pitched tone with the brightest red light you could EVER imagine. Ever 20 seconds there was a scene, or a character, or an event, or a place, or a reaction, or a comment that I just had no idea how I felt about. So many possible responses: It's cultural. I don't know what it's like. That's a complete disregard for her individual freedom. What would she put herself through that? Is that justified? That's justified. Why. Why? Why!? Oh, I get it. I mean they just went on and on.

I don't think I've actually given my interpretation a thorough analysis. Maybe I’m a little scared to. The comments at the bottom of the above-mentioned website provide some real profound examinations (large amounts of sarcasm were placed in that statement). I mean really, how much do people believe that women will do anything for love? Well…is it true? Which women? Why only women? And is it ok what this Swiss woman put herself through all of those things just for…love? And then there's the fact that with her presence in this village also comes the western presence, a whole different aspect of the movie that you must look at.

I felt that the ending of the movie brought relief but at the same time left many doubts, many questions. It's the never-ending debate of culture vs. an individual's rights. And then came the undeniable question- what would be different right now, at this moment, if I wasn't in Mexico? What would I have been outraged by that now only made me question? What would I have done differently if I were watching this before engaging in the experience I am having now. Really, the root of it all, I, as a white female westerner, am looking at this very differently that anyone who isn't a white female westerner would. The task is to try and think what I would be saying if I didn't fit that profile.

Oh and me having to deal with overbearing, traditional in-laws and a few whistles in the street? Children's games compared to this woman's story. I mean really, in the end, the question is: Can two people from completely different (to full extent of the word) cultures fall in love? Is it possible? Ok, yes? Then can they live a happy life together? What kind of sacrifices would you be willing to make to do so?

Oh Happy Thanksgiving. We're not so in to that here.
(...to the full post)

The last blog I wrote and the response it received got me thinking- where do our opinions come from anyway? Sociological analysis aside, how do we form our opinions and for how long do they last? I'm thinking from a more rudimentary level, here. Why are there some things you are 100% sure of your entire life and others that change with each new person you meet? For someone who not only rivals all the burros in Mexico with her level of stubbornness but who at the same time cherishes her ability to learn from people, I am thankful to have seen, met, and experienced what I have so that my opinions could change and develop such a great deal.

I have said it before and I will say it again: I can't stand people who are a. convinced they're right all the time or b. "too much" of anything (too liberal, too conservative, too preppy, too punk, too much of a partier, too much of a bookworm). It's not the most impartial way to be but I've accepted that it's how I see it. I just feel very strongly that it only limits one's perspective and does not allow a person to experience life to the fullest. Our society is how we've made it and ignoring it will only perpetuate its imperfections. I used to be so afraid of saying that. That I was supposed to desperately want to be one of those ultra-liberal, I-believe-anything-is-ok, being politically incorrect is the worst sin I could commit, I should wear only hemp clothing people. One thing is being in absolute agreement with the idea that a person's life is their own and can be lived in the style he or she chooses. Another is being so set in one way or one idea that you are incapable of seeing another, seeing the logic or the root of that perspective. Enter – my life in Mexico.

Now I write this because I am with the understanding, and with complete acceptance, that plenty of people that read what I write do not feel I reach their level of what they would call a "feminist". I'm over it. But it got me thinking- how much have my ideas and opinions changed since I adapted to my life here? How has my definition of what's ok and what's not, how I see my own life, what I want for myself, the role of women vs. the role of men changed? The answer is- a lot. Those things have changed a lot. I've had to get used to hearing things that would make my blood turn cold and the only thing that softens the blow is the fact that in Spanish my brain doesn't, or won't, capture the full meaning. I have had to become ok with the idea that gender roles just don't matter to as many people as I thought they once did. That I enjoy being feminine a lot more than I used to allow myself to admit. But most importantly- that I can't always let my ideas flow freely if I really want them to make a difference.

I've thought the following things more times than I'd like to count:

"Wow. Wow? He actually thinks that."

"She has no idea she doesn't have to put up with that."

" Mmhmm. In another time and place, I would have had fire coming out of my ears to hear that word. Now I just have to bite my tongue"

"Idiot."

So why do I put up with these things? If in the past it was all arguments, discussions, and learning experiences, why have my opinions changed? I think I've just realized that it's not necessarily the opinion that has changed but the way I choose to approach it based on the environment I'm in- whether that be the country, city, party, or coffee shop. I think a lot of people get used to being in a world, however small or limited it may be, that supports them and the way they think. I was one of them. But now, I'm surrounded by some of the most amazing people I've ever known- and I couldn't disagree more with them on certain issues. These issues used to be deal-breakers for me. Now, I see them as opportunities. As ways to slowly, but oh-so-surely, get a new idea or a different perspective in there. I'm not sure if this is living in Mexico or just leaving my comfort zone in general but I think it's a good thing.

So if now your response is that I am losing sight of the whole pint, or maybe that I never even understood it to being with, go on wit ya bad self. I'm gonna stick with this method. I think, for now, that it's ok and it's how I've learned to approach things. But don't worry, ask me tomorrow and maybe I'll have a completely different response.
(...to the full post)

Sometimes I wonder if more of the Latin culture has rubbed off on me than I'm even aware of. I recently had a conversation with a Canadian friend with whom I spent time with here in Mexico and she was telling me about an issue that she was addressing with her Canadian boyfriend back home (she's doing research in Panama). She said she was just "so upset" and "so angry" and didn't know what to do. Turns out a couple nights before her boyfriend had become very jealous and had just flipped out. She didn't go into details about his jealous, long-distance "outburst", but explained that he had already sent many emails, text messages, and phone messages expressing that he was sorry and felt like an idiot. She continued to go on about how ridiculous it was and how dare he react like that and that now she wasn’t even excited to be going home in a few days to see him and he had just ruined everything. My reaction? "So what?"



I didn't actually say this to her but my reaction got me thinking: Why was she so dramatically affected by this event when I viewed it as something of a complete overreaction? I went on to explain my opinion to her: jealousy is a completely natural and unavoidable part of ANY relationship. Sure, plenty of people deny it and like to say that they never feel jealous because his/her relationship is completely based on trust. What I always want to respond is that no one is questioning the level of trust in your relationship but in fact all I am saying is that it's 100% natural and ok to feel a little jealousy here and there. The problem is when you can't recognize that jealousy. When you don't notice or even worse, when you don't care; that's when jealousy becomes a problem. Her partner had actually recognized, acknowledged, and made her aware of the fact that he 100% understood that he had made a mistake- something not all people are willing to do. Feeling a desire to keep something that you like so much to yourself alone is completely understandable, hence why you like it so much and want to spend time with your partner. If you have your absolute favorite, delectable candy in front of you you're not going to turn to the guy next to you and be like, "Here ya go, friend!" Now the difference, my intelligent colleagues, that we are well aware of…is that we should not be treating a person like a dessert.

Now again- why do I feel this way? Is it how I have always felt? Is it based on the relationship (however limited they may be) experiences I've had? Then I began to wonder/worry- is it because I've spent so much time in a Latin country surrounded by Latin relationships? Was it because I am in a relationship with a Latin man?

Living here has given me a new perspective on countless things- music taste, social class, political corruption, placing value on the important things- and the list goes on and on and on. One of the things I would include on that list would be the way a relationship works and what is healthy and what is unhealthy. Granted, these are very personal things and are can be approached in a million different ways but for me, I sometimes find relationships in the United States specifically to be very dry, closed, and unappealing. On the other hand, I find them to generally be more balanced than those I have seen in Mexico. I have seen some craaaazy things done solely because of a jealous rage. I think people tend to relate jealousy to the male counterpart in a relationship but kids, these Mexican mamas KNOW how to express themselves. Now of course I am speaking in general here and know all relationships in Latin American countries are not based purely on feelings and desires but I feel comfortable saying that jealousy is approached with a much lighter perspective here. The problem is obviously when that jealousy so rapidly and so easily converts itself into the need for control.

I think with all the attention I receive as a foreigner in such a small city impacts the way my partner reacts to certain situations. I think there are a lot of people in life that might be surprised by some of the dynamics of my romantic relationship – on one hand he has become very understanding and really couldn't care less and at the same time I think there are moments when he's just like, guy, back off or you'll regret it. It's the instinct, the emotion, the want. It's what you feel, not what you think. So if we're doing so much thinking and so little feeling, what's left? Just a whole lotta "Ok, so tell me how you feel about that" instead of just letting the person show you.

I am in now way supporting jealousy-inspired outbursts or idiocies but all I'm saying is maybe we should be a little more understanding of our hearts and a little less conscious of our brains. That we can use situations like the one my friend went through as learning experiences that we don't want repeated instead of deal-breakers. I feel that we are all capable of understanding and controlling our emotions if we do it consciously.
(...to the full post)

When the relationship between gender and Mexico is mentioned you may think of machismo, the degradation of women, the testosterone levels in the men, and the perpetual enforcement of a heterosexual, marriage-based society that favors traditionalism over modernism. I'm hooooping that at least one of the entries I have written has shed a little bit of the light of the deeper extent of this relationship in general. But now I find that there was something else right in front of my face that I have yet to address that screams gender from every angle.

The structure of the Mexican government is slightly different from the one that is in place in the United States but they generally have the same characters. There is a president (which, surprise, surprise, has never been female or of indigenous background), there are senators, governors, representatives, and what we would consider "mayors" of each town or city. The responsibilities of each role are generally similar to those that you already know in the states with slight changes due to things like the economic state of the country, the history of its development, and the unfortunate presence of various forms of corruption around every corner.

Here in Zacatecas, they are experiencing something very contemporary not only for the city and the state, but for the country. They are in the third year of a six year term held by the first female governor in the history of the state. She is only the fifth in the history of the country to be elected. She won the popular vote by being what many considered the "lesser of two evils" in the elections held in July of 2004. After taking her place in September, her support was widespread and the people were generally enthusiastic about her presence and the energy she brought to the city and the state. By the time I arrived here in July of 2006, much of the hope had already greatly diminished and people were claiming that she had done nothing for the people, had not followed through with any of her promises, and did not care at all about the welfare of the Zacatecans. Now this doesn't sound very far from the description we could use for many a politician these days, but the difference comes in when people start relating their personal opinion of her governing skills to the equipment she carries between her legs.

Being a female politician anywhere in the world ain't easy, honey. Of that we are well aware. But in a country where it is a brand new idea, not one that we have had a few decades to get used to, things are a lot heavier. Not only are people already saying, only halfway through her term, that "this is what happens when you put a woman in charge" (something I have trouble thinking would only be said in Mexico, especially during the current debates going on in the States), but there are lots of smaller details that have larger effects. For example, to anyone and everyone in Zacatecas, she is known as "Amalia". Call her Governor Garcia (I had to stop and think about what her last name is, I might add) and no one will even know who you are talking about. Now, when was the last time we referred to the lord almighty himself "George"? Then I keep thinking and right in front of us we have who…McCain, Dean, Obama and…Hillary. Hmm. Interesting. So our good friend, Amalia, is always impeccably dressed in her pants suit, occasionally fitted with a skirt, but most often with pants. She always has her hair perfectly styled and her pearly earrings shining through. Now these comments wouldn’t be necessary if she were a man but then again, a tie is a tie and a comb-over is a comb-over, isn't it?

Amalia has one daughter. The father? Mysteriously, he is not in the picture. She is not married which did surprise me when I first found out. In a state that is considered 98% Catholic, being a female governor is one thing but an unmarried one? I found out today that the supposed truth is that she is a widow but the common opinion is that she is divorced. Opinion based on fact or on a desired implication?

In terms of what I know of what Amalia has achieved, I can't lie, I haven't heard of or seen much. A lot of people do chock that up to being female which inevitably leads to being a bad politician. They overlook the fact that other female candidates in the past have faced violence, attacks, and even one that was murdered before her name could be put on the ballot for mayor. I tend to point out that maybe it isn't that she doesn't want to get things through the government, but more that they just ain't lettin' her in, folks. It's one thing to let her in the governor's office it's another to actually let her have a voice in the national government.

Personally, I was excited to arrive at the beginning of such a new and interesting political term. I have been very disappointed in her lack of influence not only on Zacatecas' politics but also on the importance placed on women's rights. Despite her claims that she would be focusing on their needs and wants, the only thing I've seen to show for it is a billboard or two with the faces of four woman, two children (beautiful and light-skinned), an indigenous woman, and the governor herself with the statement "Nuestras mujeres merecen ser respetadas" (Our women deserve to be respected). That'll show those misogynistic wife-beaters. Yo go, girl.

I'm still not sure what my personal opinion is on Amalia. I know that the majority, if not all, of the people I have spoken with have one that is almost 100% negative. I am also conscious of the fact that we shouldn't be defending her just for being a woman. The fact is, she could just be a dishonest, crappy politician like so many of the others out there. It's just so hard to not want to be behind her in a situation in which no one else is. Where do we draw the line? There are those in the States who look at the ballot and simply choose every female candidate. There's a lot to be said in using a technique like that. So in a country where having any woman on the ballot is a huge achievement, should we follow that same thought process? Even if we know she sucks?
(...to the full post)

In the never ending board game that we call the dating scene, we all know too well how not only do the little stand up cardboard players constantly change and evolve but also the board on which you play, the goal that gets you the win, and especially the instructions to play. It's like you combine Life, Monopoly, and Guess Who to create this debacle of "Sorry, I'm busy tonight…", "Why hasn't she called!?!", and "Dude…he's hot". Then there's the "Hey…tell me what are you thinking?", the "No you hang up first!", and the favorite, "It's not you, it's me". It's all so overplayed, so confusing, sometimes so ridiculous. And so delicious.

When I relocated my Chutes and Ladders board from its normal place in Mexico over to the States for a few weeks, I not only confronted so many of the normal 'Oh God he's going to meet my parents' moments, but also the 'Oh God he's going to meet all my close friends, see where I grew up, travel with me for over 5 days straight, be at my side at least 18 hours a day, and he's going to do it all…without speaking my language or being part of my culture". Ya know, the usual. Everyone already had this image. They had seen pictures and they had heard stories it wasn't out of the blue but there was a lot riding on this visit. I mean, just imagine. Having this amazing person in your life with whom you have shared countless moments and words, knowing how intelligent, compassionate, and especially clever he is and... oops! No one else with a significant role in your life can truly see that. Sure, he's cute he says "thank you" a lot, and is easy-going, those things you can see. But that's what you're supposed to see after 3 or 4 months, not almost 2 1/2 years. Makes ya wonder…how did this witty ol' chap and I get to this point anyway?

Then the weirdest part was… it wasn't weird at all. All the worrying, wondering, talking about what would happen didn't mean nada because things went more smoothly than anyone could have imagined. Everyone got along, everyone was excited, and everyone, especially him, was more than content to be a part of such an experience. Trust me, we deal with things that you don't even realize. Intercultural relationship aside, this board game is freakin hard. So the general success of this trip not only revived our relationship, but I think it reopened some things, too.

I was soooo ready to kick anyone's ass who even tried to 'bring it.' I think I was more than expecting for him to have at least one prick who treated him rudely, mocked his lack of English, or was just a straight up dick, and all my devoted mental preparations were for nothing. Sure every now and then there was an ignorant individual who explained, to me, when he wasn't there, the comparison between the work ethic in landscaping between Mexicans and say oh, El Salvadorians, sure, because it's ok if he's not there. Right. Ok good. But in terms of your overall xenophobic, ignorant butthead? Nope, didn't show his face. At least not on this visit. Oh, besides the ridiculously obnoxious, irrational, and unbearable behavior of the immigration officer. At least we have our faithful system to fall back on.

I don't mean to say it wasn't akward at times. At a noisy bar yelling about old high school stories with friends and turning to his bored, clueless expression not only made me sad, but it frustrated me. Why can't we have a "normal" relationship? Let's be honest, we all wanna break the mold, but sometimes, you just want it easy. But more than that, this handsome young Mexican has said to me before, "Si fuera facil, cualquier pendejo lo haría." (I'm gonna leave that for a quiet moment between you and wordreference.com. And you'll need a little Mexican Spanish slang help while you're at it.)

A while back, before the idea of this trip even existed, I explained something: "If we're ever at my house or whatever, just know that I won't be this huggy, ok? Why? I mean, I dunno, it's just different. Like, I could never hold your hand in front of my dad. And my friends would just roll their eyes if we kissed in front of them. I don't know, ok? That's just how it is". Yeah, B.S. I guess it's just different when you're actually living it instead of just thinking about it. Plus, I think the awkwardness, disdain, or discomfort with PDA that is inherent in U.S. culture has kind of worn off during my time here. For a hetero couple, Mexico is like lovesick, puppy dog heaven. People just like expressing their feelings in a visual manner. Not liking seeing two people romp on a park bench is one thing but being annoyed by embraces or words of affection on the metro or in line at 7-11? Get over it.

Then there was the whole "ok, now what?" thing. I mean it wasn't a matter of, ok you know everyone now so when are putting a down payment on the two bedroom, but it was kind of obvious to everyone. It was like this was the last piece of the "normal relationship" puzzle that was going to get us to as "normal" as we'll ever be. There's a mutual understanding of our backgrounds, I wasn't hiding some freakishly weird family secret, we didn't break it off even after the awkward encounter with my hyper-active, self-righteous, cousins, seeing my pictures from ages 12-18, and the 11 hour car ride from Niagara Falls where the only think I could do to stay awake was sing Celine Dion in the days where she had her "should we question her sexuality" haircut. It's all coming back to me now. So up to now, I'd say we're doing ok.

The reality is…no one knows what's going to happen. I can't say "no one has any idea of what's going to happen" anymore because that's not the case. Ideas have been mentioned. I treasure my time living here because I know it won't be forever. The only thing that is lacking here is professional opportunities that would fulfill my needs. I've made that clear to myself and to everyone involved from the beginning. Sometimes I have to kick myself in the ass when I start throwing my own pity party where the theme is "Wah, I moved here for you, can't you just understand me" or "Boo, I gave up two years of some pointless post-grad job that I wouldn't even have liked…now you move your entire life and leave your job, family, and everything you know to come with me, ok?" Yeah, ok.

His English was actually much better than everyone thought. Even surprised himself sometimes. Like when a friend said "Awesome! Now that he knows he likes it he can just move here and you can start having babies!" After literally saving myself from choking on my lemonade, I was even more thrilled to turn and see a look of scared bewilderment on his. Perfect. No one wants to talk about life-long commitments, babies, or concrete plans yet. But eventually, much sooner than we'd like to think, reality is going to set in and this lil' senorita is going to have to buck up and face the musica.
(...to the full post)

So it's something that I tend to avoid. Something that worries me just thinking about it. Then when it actually becomes the topic of conversation, my stomach starts to churn. If the conversation continues and murmurs of opinions start to peek out, I feel my cheeks get warm. Then if it becomes a full out "discussion" with the expression of various point of view, and I end up either holding back brimming tears or excusing myself to the bathroom before I explode.

It's a debate I still have no idea how to approach or deal with or digest. I have even avoided specifically writing about it here because I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say. There are a lot of cultural differences that I see everyday that affect how I lead my life here…but this one is a toughie. It's not just the idea that a homosexual lifestyle isn't accepted, it's everything that this topic addresses - gay rights, gay couples, gay marriage, gay education, gay activism. The word gay is a trigger. A bullet-proof vest two feet thick couldn't protect you from the aftermath.

To clarify, the word itself doesn't necessarily evoke negative reactions or provoke nasty responses. It's that's the subsequent issues that result just aren't handled as well as within a community that has more experience confronting it, that is more used to the concept. As they say, we're afraid of what we don't know, right? Here maybe it's not so much as fear as much as being unaware.

Even with that understood, I struggle each time I am faced with the topic to not only know how to react, but how to judge my reaction. How often do I let things slide? Things I wouldn't have dreamed of before moving here? Is that ok? Should you let cultural differences change your approach? For me it's not a question of whether or not you should let them change how you react, question, or respond, it's a fact of the situation that you are in. More and more I am seeing how the mindset and understanding I have of queer issues is completely and 100% from a U.S. point of view. Just the fact that I use the term "queer issues" in this paragraph yet the description I used in the first one was "gay" illustrates the difference that exists between how things are approached in the two environments I have lived in. Apart from that, my big problem is where to draw the line. I've always had a problem with people that are convinced that they are the almighty on queer issues, that current cosmopolitan gender issues have one way of being overcome, and that they are the messiah to bring us to the light. Get over it. It's just not true. As we all know, there are far too many contributing factors to honestly be convinced that we are the be all and end all of what's up in the gay world.

Then it becomes personal. Some of the closest people I have in my community here are people I'd be afraid to broach the topic with for fear of what their reactions would be. Or worse, what their opinion is on any of the aforementioned issues. This is mainly because I've come across various situations that have reduced me to the physical state that I mentioned above and the thought scares me. I never thought I could have someone as close as some of those that I have here that hold those opinions. What does that mean? About me, my lifestyle, my choices, my environment?

In my own circle, hostility has not been a problem. It's not a matter or being afraid or vehemently against anything or anyone. It's more just general discomfort. Jokes, questions, name-calling. The unknown. I recently had a conversation with someone that made me even more uncomfortable due to the level of our relationship in which the person expressed that they did not agree with the fact that a mutual acquaintance we have, who does not have a biological father in his life, chooses to call a family friend that has taken him under his wing dad. It just so happens that this family friend is openly gay. The conversation went on because the person gave the explanation that this young boy lives with his mother and his two sisters. His mother is somewhat absent in the emotional and caretaking department. So this boy has had no straight male figure in his life and only sisters as constant parental figures. Now what happens when he grows up and instead of actually trying to figure it out for himself, chooses the path that he has grown up seeing all along and just decides to be gay, even if he's not.

So you mean what would happen if a young boy chooses a sexual identity just based on what he has seen even if it's not what he truly wants in life? Toughie. I'd hate for that to happen.

I don't know. It's an ongoing thing that I'm still trying to work out. I think the hardest part for me is knowing how far I'm willing to let things go with people that I have in my close circle. I still argue, voice, and express myself but sometimes I just get tired of being on the defense. Am I letting things slide too much?
(...to the full post)

My last post was kind of all over the place. Some of the things I talked about just didn't come out the way I wanted them to. I think this trip home to the States is really kind of throwing me off; there are a lot of things that I'm doing or saying or seeing that I'm not even conscious of but are actually making a big impact on my time here. I think that the best way to express what I want to say is by sharing a list of comparative Mex/U.S. observations:

It's so strange being back here (I'm visiting home [the U.S.] for a few weeks) for a number of obvious reasons, but also for so many of the little differences in my life in Zacatecas that I had started taking for granted. They don’t have tortillas with every meal here in the States; the majority of people begin their day before 9:00 a.m.; there are not corner stores every 1/2 mile; going to the movies is way too expensive; people assume that you were born here, that you speak English, and when you don't fit into these categories…people are really thrown off and can have very interesting reactions.

Then there's the whole fact that I feel I have lost every ounce of sexiness on the plane ride over the border. It's as if everyone is so terrified of being offensive or inappropriate that even a glance here or there of appreciation is beyond the acceptable limit. Now, I'm not out there looking for turning heads on every corner or even a Friday night date (might prove uncomfortable with my partner at my side), but what I do think lacks every now and then is a general acceptance of natural attraction, appreciation of others’ attraction, and just a little more warmth between the people. Interestingly enough, I have noticed that in both Mexico and the States, when women find other women attractive it’s not as big of a deal to make public such feelings.

Oh, and back in Mexico my partner always feels the need to walk on the outside when we walk down the street on the sidewalk together. Now, it’s hard to understand his inclination outside of a place where something like this is an integral part of the culture, but it is understood that if you are walking down the street with the woman on the outside (open to the street), it’s and open invitation to yell out with those famous cat calls I refer to so frequently. So anyway, my partner unconsciously is always on the outside. I’ll admit, I’ve let my irritation and anger dissolve into understanding and general ambivalence. But here, in the States, not once has my partner even made a move for the outside. It’s just a different feel here.

People are so afraid to be warm. Friendly, kind, outgoing, if you want, but really it's just a matter of acknowledging other people around you, saying a few words in the 7-11, or smiling as you cross walking in and out of the metro station. I can remember after moving down to Mexico for the first time, I would meet people and literally after five minutes, they would be inviting me to stay with them and their family in their hometown. A very common thing to do in Mexico, all parts of the country, is to describe your own house as someone else's. For example, the following could be a common convo:

Person A: "Hey! It's good to see you again! How are you today?
Person B: "So great. How are you? You look really nice today.
Person A: "Oh thanks! Hey, I can't remember, where did you say you live again?"
Person B: "Oh really close. It's on Rayon Ave. Just go to the end of the street and right there you'll see your house!

It's tough to really get the feel without the Spanish language, the warm tone of the voice, and the…mariachi music in the background (did you pick up on the sarcastic stereotype right there? Tricky, I know), but it's just a simple example.

I think I also had grown accustomed to the engraved gender roles that are ever-present way down south but for some reason they don’t' freak me out as much anymore. It's all your experiences, ya know? Education, people, you know, things you've seen. When something becomes commonplace, and you have a stronger understanding about where people are coming from, where that behavior is coming from, you don't fear it as much. Not gonna lie, I see it to be refreshing and yet terrifying at the same time.
(...to the full post)

What do you want from a relationship, really? What is it that you think you're looking for? Emotionally? Physically? Logistically? Should the person look a certain way, speak a certain way, think a certain way? No really…think about it. We all have our personal tastes that determine why we eye flirt with the third person down at the bar and not the fourth, why the nerdy guy with converse sneakers is more eye-catching than the dashing one with crystal blue eyes, and why you can't get enough of her despite the way she snorts when she laughs. Maybe you only date people who like to cuddle. Or maybe you can't stand PDA. Maybe you like 'em badass and sexy. Then again there's much to be said for the quiet and alluring. Perhaps you think that you would never date someone who didn't agree with you on issues a, b, and c. I mean, your viewpoints are part of you for goodness sake. Then again, maybe you just don't date.

I think I just always assumed that anyone I dated would fit a certain outline. Not that I had a pre-made box ready to throw the person in the moment I decided we should date. More that, like many people, you tend to eventually develop an idea of the person you picture yourself with. Not necessarily long-term, but if something were to become serious, you're pretty sure they would fit these guidelines. I'm not sure there's necessarily anything wrong with that. I would consider it a very positive attribute to understand who you are so well that you also understand what you need from a partner.

But what happens when you find yourself in a relationship that you have no idea how you got into? Or the person you adore waking up next to fits only 2 of those 25 guidelines you had all neatly prepared for yourself and your future? What if this person's stature, political beliefs, sex, favorite foods, level of enjoyment derived from reading a good book in the bathtub), or skin color just doesn't match up? Well, crap.

Then again, maybe that "crap" is uncalled for. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Maybe you need to let down some of those barriers you have up to protect yourself from deviating, not necessarily from the comfortable, but from the understandable.

Every day I'm trying to figure this all out for myself. I keep soaking in the aspects of my life here that are different and trying to see what my perspective on them is. Then I try to connect them to my lifestyle, my relationship, and the future I see for myself and it becomes that much more confusing. The simple fact of the matter is, the way people think here is very different from the community I come from. It's both fascinating and frustrating at the same time. Often, I confuse my personal life with my social and political one and it's something I tend to regret. A relationship is something between two people. But where, and how far, do the outside factors enter?

For instance, if you are a Mexican man (born and raised in Mexico), do you inherently have a little bit of "macho" in you? Not that you raise your fist at the first hint of anger but more that you see thing from a certain perspective, you enjoy things a certain way. Does this "macho" man need a very "feminine" woman? What if she doesn't like cooking enchiladas and wearing tacones (high heels), and becomes defensive discussing the femincides in Juarez? One deviates from the norm, the other doesn't. Does that mean these two people truly can't form a loving and balanced relationship? It's safe to say they probably have some of the same expectations of a relationship – care, support, understanding, acceptance…but should they truly have to "accept" each other? Should we "accept" our partner? Or should we wait until we feel we are entirely embracing who they are instead?

From a personal viewpoint, who the hell knows what a relationship is "supposed to be like". And really, the only people that know what a specific relationship is truly like are the ones taking part in it. We can probably all agree that it's about learning who you are, who they are, and if those two factors can blend. I'm not talking about forcing them to blend or even waiting until they blend naturally. I'm just saying, sometimes, with a little remodeling, two opposing puzzle pieces can be meshed together a lot easier than we may think. Hence why that macho man and his "liberated" woman, an opinionated and vocal woman and her soft-spoken partner, or any other combination you want to create could potentially find the path to a successful relationship. Then again, maybe the whole idea of a "committed relationship" is an unreachable dream that we've been forced to believe in. The Cosby Show, the Brady Bunch, and the Camden Family…it's all a figment of your imagination.

But it helps to talk about it.
(...to the full post)

We're all aware of the competition that women are capable of feeling between each other. Her ass is cuter. How does she keep her hair so flat? So what if she doesn't need to wear makeup. I like wearing it. Why does she giggle like that? Could she flirt a little more? And the famous…what does he see in her anyway? And here's the best part…EVERY woman has done it and will continue to do it. Some actions are rooted in more superficial issues than others, but still true for all. We need to stop trying to act like we don’t do these kinds of things because denial usually just makes the problem worse.

Sure, some of us are much better at keeping our inner she-bitch hidden and sometimes we can overcome it for periods of time. Some of the effective ways to avoid such loss of our selves to the whims of the societally-imposed she-bitch are by not reading popular magazines, not watching popular TV shows, not hanging out in popular places, and not being around popular[ly defined] people. At least then you know you are hanging out with real people; people that, even when you have those urges to give the evil eye or spill your drink on her new pants (even if they were 2 bucks from the thrift store they still look cuter on her than they would on you), you know that it is an unfounded urge produced by society's subliminal evil forces and not of your own doing.

Now multiply that by 13. Awesome. That's how I feel walking through the streets here in Mexico. It's something I've accepted and now have a much easier time dealing with. It's that... women here have a hard time liking me for who I am. I'm different. I'm exotic (i.e. over 5'3'', blonde, light eyes, and wear flip flops regularly). They don't know who I am. Men notice me because of this, and only this, and it causes a lot of women to not want to be mi mejor amiga. The intimidation that I unwillingly represent not only causes nervousness but often, blatant glares. We're talking in restaurants, in bars, at work, at baby showers, in the supermarket, the taco stand on the corner, and especially walking down the street. And then they notice: I speak Spanish? Phew, forget it. Not only am I a gringa, but I can employ their language, too, and communicate with other people. I am officially the enemy.

If I am honest with myself, I can admit that I only have one real Mexican female friend. I definitely have other good acquaintances who know I'm not Satan's gringa messenger. Maybe we just haven't moved past the role of just conocidas, but it's still disheartening to be fully aware that my lack of a real female Mexican social circle is due to basically…the color of my skin and hair.

One time I went to an internet cafe and the person I'm dating nudged me to look up. The guy working there was oblivious to his open mouth and googley eyes as I walked in. Now… I know how to work it – but this kind of reaction? I can't take credit for it. But the kicker was what the girl sitting next to him, who we then figured out was his girlfriend, said: "Hey…hey…I'm right here! No ya know what? Go ahead. Just look. It's not like you see one of those every day". Wait for it…wait for it…annnnd….she sends a glare right at me!!! Awesome. Another amiga to add to the list.

It's a weird dynamic I got goin' on here. The truth is, I absolutely love living here. I love the people, the culture, the food, the music, the relaxed lifestyle, the passion in the people. But even after a year of living here, I still get really irritated by the reaction I receive, both from men and women, when I'm walking in the street. Like I've mentioned in other posts, it's not a major city and that has a lot to do with the specific experience I'm having, but I don't like that I feel more comfortable walking down the street holding my partner's hand because at least then the men can't whistle and the women know I'm no longer competition. Trust me, the novelty of being "different and exciting" wears off a lot faster than you think. And even faster if your Irish roots scream stereotypical "gringa".
(...to the full post)

So it seems to me that, so far, I am the most (for lack of a better term) straight-edge on this blog. And separately, perhaps not quite queer enough. It's something that a lot of us men-lovin', queer-supportin' ladies deal with. It's the struggle with knowing how to identify personally (generally as the majority), how to support those who identify differently (generally as marginalized identities), how to fight against those who don't support those who identify differently (the punks), and then how to meet a decent person these days (not easy).

Then I think of an increasingly favorable way to cope – just not identifying. What's the point? We all know that we've had urges to bat for both teams. And let's hope it stays that way. So, I'll be the first one on the page to lay it out – I'm in a straight relationship. And yes, you guessed it, with one of those Mexican men I mentioned in the last post. I'm laying it all on the table now because it occurred to me this is an important factor in the way that I digest my experience living in Zacatecas. Transitioning from being a single American to a non-single American woman in Mexico has provided me with very different experiences. But that will probably be addressed more in-depth later.

So what the hell does any of this have to do with gender and queer issues in Mexico? In terms of dialogue? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That's because the majority of the people here just aren't thinkin' about it. I say the “majority” because it is a rare thing that I come across a little dialogue in my daily, weekly, or even monthly life. If I was living in a bigger city it would be different, but for now I become frustrated when I try to personally or socially address gender (and especially queer) issues. I think I was (surprisingly) spoiled by a certain pocket in U.S. culture and a more personal social circle that was more aware of these topics; I slammed a bit too hard into a metaphoric wall when I moved here.

I met this guy at a carne asada last week and he was describing one of the few gay clubs that exist here and it hit me – I've lived here for almost a year and I have yet to go out to a gay or lesbian bar. Why? Well, like I said, being in a relationship (for the good and the bad) allows you to not feel guilty for having a more relaxed social life. If I actually went out to bars and clubs on a regular basis maybe this detail would be different but I'm still trying to figure out this separation that exists in my social life that I never experienced before. But in the end, it shouldn't be so easy to exclude this part of the Zacatecas night life from one's social scene.

As one queer-identified friend responded when I asked him to come visit me, "Don't Mexicans hate gays?" Then the answer occurred to me: “Don't a lot of people hate gays?” Yes, you will probably find that a large percentage of Mexicans are uncomfortable or in disagreement with a gay lifestyle…but no, Mexicans don't "hate gays". They're not used to it. They have no experience with the idea. They live in a VERY different society than the one that the majority of our readers live in. They're vehemently taught by their political leaders, the church, and their elderly relatives that it's different, weird, and – yes— morally wrong. It's just that here, there is a lack of support, a lack of a place for gay culture in this society. You have to be REALLY out, or REALLY not out at all. There isn't much of an in between for identity growth because the culture just ain't havin' it. I've heard more than once that "gay" actually means having a penthouse and BMW in New York City…it's the idea of being gay that exists here rather than the actual thing.

In a city that is 98% Catholic, you have to give a little credit to the fact that this country just doesn't have the foundation in its politics, culture, or social values to keep in step with the good ol' U. S. of A. One of my co-workers once asked if I thought there were a lot more "gays" (as they are commonly referred to) on campus these days. And I said no, I think there are just more that finally feel comfortable in their own skin. The thing is, folks, a lot of times people think of "queer culture" but what they are really thinking about is "American queer culture". There's no room to talk about things like semantics, adoption rights, or anti-discrimination policies- we gotta get people used to the general idea before we can ask for their support on what we consider to be inherent expectations.

But hey, civil unions were legalized in Mexico City last November. And the truth of the matter is, you gotta start somewhere.
(...to the full post)

I'm a woman. I'm a young woman. I'm a gringa. And I'm a proud gringa. I'm a gringa that stands out a LOT. I'm a post-grad. I'm a really confused post-grad. I'm both a friend and I'm a partner in a romantic relationship. I'm a friend and a partner that is asked to do a lot. I'm a friend and a partner that sometimes just wants to be the young, recently-graduated gringa doin' her thing. But I also live in a place where: domestic violence is not addressed, men are NOT nurses, there are numerous translations for the word f*g, abortion is illegal, 98% of the people are Catholic, I have yet to see two women holding hands in more than a "hey buddy" kind of way, and sex-ed is non-existent. But for some reason, I’m in a place where that brings me more excitement, hope, culture, energy, spice, and knowledge into my life than any other experience I've ever had.

At first it was the looks, the comments, the invitations, the smiles. And sometimes, even the cat calls. It was the sexiness that women exude by simply turning the corner. The odor of confidence that the men left behind them with each step. It was wearing things I had never worn. Doing things I had never done. Saying things that even as they tumbled off my own lips, made my eyes widen with surprise. In the end, it was the cambio, la transformación, the newness that had never existed before.

Then there was the guilt. The questioning and wondering. I was insecure about the quality of the security this place provided me. As a hot senorita walkin' the street, what about the obnoxious cat calls? The lingering-too-long stares? Shouldn't they piss me off? Shouldn't I shout back, make them realize how disrespectful, chauvinistic, and ignorant their gestures were? Why wasn't I upset?

With all the sureness in my voice, I will tell you that the first time I lived in Mexico (two years ago) my life was changed. With the same sureness I will say that I still don't understand the full extent of my transformation, though I sense that I will continue to figure it out far into the future. But at this point, what I do know is that my understanding of being a woman changes every day I wake up here.

I think one of the biggest revelations I’ve had is that Mexican women just really love themselves so much more than most of the women I have met before. And they love themselves in such a different way; it shows in everything they do. Naturally, our oh-so-supportive culture has made its way here from the States through the help of Paris Hilton, step class, Subway, and Slim Fast but the root of it all – the Mexican woman – is still present in everyday life: tight shirts despite the chub at the waist line, lots of makeup simply because it feels prettier, high heels to climb La Quemada, an archaeological site with steps measuring 2 feet high. It's everywhere. And for once, I felt the urge to flaunt it. To use it. To appreciate it. Granted, we've still got those who take two and a half hours to put on their fake eyelashes and another hour to get their lip liner perfect but they are less noteworthy to me in the grand scheme of things. I am surrounded by women who know how bad-ass they are and aren't afraid to show it.

Then there are the men. These damn Mexican men. One minute you can't handle the pride flowing out their ears, their pick-up lines dripping with sleaze and unoriginality, and the next…you're giggling at how romantic it can be. It's sickening. You just want them as friends, then you want them in bed, you just want them to want you, you just want to want them…doesn't matter. Hell maybe you thought you didn't even LIKE men! So many of them have so many of the words that hit you right there. They know how much they should touch you, say things to you, how often to look you in the eye. They're not afraid to hug you in public and at the same time they give you a sense of security you never knew you didn't have.

Who knows. Honestly, every day there's a new tidbit I see that brings a thousand questions to my mind. Hopefully you can tell me what you think it all means.
(...to the full post)