| Año 5 • No. 174 • abril 11 de 2005 | Xalapa • Veracruz • México |
Publicación
Semanal
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Páginas
Centrales
Información
General
Ex-libris
Investigación
Estudiantes
Arte
Universitario
Halcones
al Vuelo
Contraportada
Thanks to the people of Coyopolan / I |
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| I
arrived in Mexico carrying a rucksack, a camera and a few phone numbers
of people I had never met. As I was leaving, I looked back at every
friend I had made, everyone who treated me like a son, every village,
every tortilla on a wooden stove, every child from Coyopolan pronouncing
watermelon, and I realized how many wondrous experiences I now carry
with me. The two months I spent in Mexico remain some of the most
educational and joyous times of my life, the memories of which rest
in my heart and live on in my mind. Faculty in the department of Vinculación, students in the house in Coyopolan and the village community welcomed me with graciousness, trust and hospitality that I had never experienced before. Ironically, Mexico’s poverty and corruption have not destroyed the value Mexicans place on hospitality and the kind treatment of strangers. People consistently offered me their house, food and time. At one point, walking around a small town in Veracruz, a man called me into his shop where he was stood playing dice with friends. His name was Chewy and he insisted that I stay and have a beer and speak with him about my life and about his. I took the beer and then he jokingly proceeded to offer me all kinds of things in his shop including the hand of his daughter. It was genuine camaraderie, a level of comfort and friendship that people in foreign countries do not share with strangers. Leaving Mexico I feel as if I have become friends with an entire nation of people. Recently I took the Greyhound bus to visit my Grandfather in Kansas. In the Greyhound station in St. Louis there was a mother in front of me who turned around with a distressed look and said with a Mexican accent, Ay mi madre. I asked if I could help and translated to the man behind the counter. She was trying to go to Miami, but had been sold tickets to Nashville. After a few minutes she was in line with her family, tickets in hand and waving to me. She wished me a happy new year and I told her to be safe on her journey. Only an hour later on the bus, once all of the window seats had been taken, a young man walked on and asked if he could sit with me. His English wasn’t very good and understanding I moved my things aside and proceeded to speak with him in Spanish for most of the nine hour journey. I hope to continue to seek out friendships with Mexicans and show them the same kindness in the United States that I received in Mexico. My first and lasting friendships began in the house in Coyopolan where students of the University of Veracruz were doing their year of Servicio Social. Brenda, Nancy, Alma, Elizabeth y Ramiro introduced me to the village life and practices. The kids of the village introduced themselves and despite my limited Spanish they found plenty to talk about. During my first week, Ramiro (the chemist), Alma (the nutritionist), Juanita, Chelly and I walked up into the village of Cerro Boludo and families came to their front yards to welcome us and offer space in their houses and food for lunch. I then realized why Ramiro had told me that wouldn’t need to bring much food. One woman beckoned us in and we gratefully obliged. A girl was sat in the yard on a blue tarp harvesting beans by sliding her thumb through the dried pods. She and her daughter served us fresh milk, juice, eggs, cheese, beans and tortillas. They offered us more than reasonable portions of food that I was certain they didn’t eat everyday. I sat at the table and thought about the girl in the front yard and the men and boys in the fields and it occurred me after my second portion of beans that the more food we ate, the less they would have to eat. But the family continued to offer us more food. This moment remains vivid in my mind. In the communities surrounding Coyopolan we surveyed the population and I began to understand the norms of village life. As one of the others asked the families about their childbirth, education and vaccines I looked around and quietly took photos of the people and their lives. I have been a photographer for some years, but I have never been so satisfied with my work. Because I was living in the community and teaching kids English, I felt some ownership of the scene and had a greater understanding of what it meant. I have included some photos from my travels. (Continuará) |
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