Kids and Culture

The last few weeks have been “los Jornadas Culturales,” or Cultural Days, at the kids’ school.  The Cultural Days are an annual celebration of, um, culture.  They mark the birthday of the school’s namesake, German pedagogue Federico Froebel. 

Federico Froebel:  a Oaxacan?

Helen’s Cultural Days lasted two weeks.  Each class studied a country where one of the students in the class is from. 

Flags of the countries represented by families in the preschool.

Helen’s class studied the United States.  Helen’s teacher turned over the planning and the teaching to us.  We went in five days for about an hour each time.  Here is what we did.  (Keep in mind, our audience consisted of four- and five-year-olds.)

Day 1:  Colonial history and independence (in 60 seconds), history of the flag (in 120 seconds), Star Spangled Banner (several versions, including one performed by cats and dogs), flag-making (rest of the period).

Flags!

Day 2: United States music.  I brought my guitar and we sang “This Land is Your Land,” “Old McDonald,” “BINGO,” and “Johnny B. Goode.”

Day 3:  Clothes and food in the United States.  Special guest Tamara told the story of Levi's jeans and the Gold Rush.  (The kids were captivated, although maybe they were just perplexed that Helen’s aunt speaks such good Spanish.)  Then we sang the Peanut Butter and Jelly song, which I introduced by translating peanut butter as “cream of turkey” instead of “cream of peanuts.”  (In my defense, they use the Zapotec words for peanut and turkey here, which are easy to confuse:  cacahuate for peanut, and guajolote for turkey.)  We ended the class by making fruit ambrosia.  Whatever self-righteousness I felt about demonstrating that we eat more than junk food in the U.S. was blown when we added the marshmallows – the kids' favorite part.

Day 4:  Famous United States landmarks (a slide show).  Photos included Niagara Falls, the White House, the Washington Monument, Disney World, the Mississippi River, the St. Louis arch, the Grand Canyon, Mt. Rushmore, a Redwood Tree, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Hawaii volcano, and Mt. Denali.  Disney World and the volcano were the big hits, hands down.

Day 5:  Natalie attended the final “cultural fair.”  The idea was to sit at a table and answer questions about the United States.  The reality is that there was a picture of Buzz Lightyear on the table, so Natalie spent the hour answering questions about Buzz.

Max’s Cultural Days lasted one week.  There were mostly cooking workshops, but previously Max was selected as one of three kids from each grade to help a visiting artist paint a mural, so he did that instead of cooking.  (Max's teacher said she picked Max because he does such creative doodles in his assignment book.)  After a couple of weeks of planning, the kids and the muralist have spent the last four days painting.  Max has loved the experience so much that Natalie and I are willing to overlook the two pairs of pants and two shirts with nonremovable paint stains.  Actually, it has been extremely cool to watch the mural take shape.  There is no question that Max will have left his mark at the school.

Max did not participate in the cooking workshops, but a friend gave him his chef's hat. 

The wall, prepped for painting.

Partially-completed mural.

Max designed the scale and helped paint it.  The mural has been a true collaboration between the students and the visiting artist, whose name I did not catch.  

Max is not the only muralist in the family.  Natalie was recruited to paint the U.S. flag on a mural in the preschool, since the teacher wanted it to have all 13 stripes and 50 stars.

In addition to the three weeks of Cultural Days, which end today, the school observes Children's Day today, which is an official holiday in Mexico (normally observed on April 30).  For the kids, it means wearing “street clothes” to school and another day of fun activities organized by the parents.  For the parents, it means another day of organizing fun activities.  (As an adult, I can appreciate the answer to the age-old question of why, at least in the United States, there is Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, but no Children’s Day:  “Because every other day of the year is Children’s Day.”)  Natalie is carrying the banner for our family.  She is at school now, painting faces for the preschoolers.  Her one text to me was this:  “Someone thought it was a good idea to give all of the kinder whistles before the show!”  It sounds fun.

Helen and Max, modeling the outfits they chose for the one day they do not need to wear uniforms to school.  On the way outside, Helen decided the 70-degree morning was too cold for what she was wearing, so she changed into a longer skirt.

Natalie, dressed for Children's Day.

Now that the Cultural Days and Children's Day are coming to a close, we need some R&R.  So, this evening we leave on a two-week trip.  First we go south, where will visit Chiapas and then spend an afternoon in Guatemala to (hopefully) renew our visas.  Then we go north, to Mexico City, where Max is playing in a soccer tournament and Helen, Natalie, and I will do some sight-seeing.  We will have access to e-mail, but we are not bringing the computer so the next blog entry might not be until we get back at the beginning of May.

A quick parting story:  Yesterday Helen had a stomach ache.  Our housekeeper, Cristi, examined her then told me and Natalie in Spanish that Helen has a "ranita," or "little frog," in her stomach, which is a colloquial way to say she has a tummy ache.  Helen, who understands more and more Spanish every day, got upset - and maybe even a little frightened - when she heard about the ranita in her stomach.  She yelled into the kitchen, "I DID NOT EAT A FROG!"

Happy (early) Children's Day.  --Harrison

A Taste of Home

In a few days, our trip will be half over.  Even though we will be here for another three and a half months, the reality that this experience will end is beginning to set in.  Each of us, in our own way, is thinking about it.  Helen, for instance, recently asked if she can visit her Mexican school “on some of the days” when we get back to Oakland.  Max said it would be good to stay here for a year, instead of for seven months, to get “really fluent” in Spanish.  Today, Natalie took videos out the bus window on our way back from running errands while the kids were in school.  She wants to remember “just how cool it all is,” which I understand.  As for me, I am starting to take things off the list of what I hope to do here.  For example, it is looking less likely that I will learn to play mariachi music.

While it will be hard to leave Oaxaca, last week we were treated to a wonderful reminder of what we have to look forward to when we go home.  We had visits from Natalie’s sister and niece, Tamara and Macey, and from our good friends Valerie, Michael, and Sam.  We spent a couple of days alone with each of them, and three days with everybody together.  We managed to do a lot in a short time.  

Such as... Tamara, Macey, Natalie, and I went with our neighbor, José Manuel, to see the ruins at Mitla and the huge tree at Tule.  All of us went to Monte Alban, except for Max and Helen, who had school, and Natalie, who had a brunch with some school moms.  Natalie took everyone to the Santo Domingo church and museum.  We shared a kilo and a half of grilled meat and vegetables with our friend and tutor, Mercedes.  We hung out at the Zócalo.  We wandered around town and bought lots of crafts (and two pairs of shoes for Macey!).  We went to a mega-candy store so Tamara could buy treats like sugar-salt-jalapeño packs for her Spanish students.  On Michael, Valerie, and Sam’s last full day we took a bus to Ocotlán, where we visited the workshops of a master knife-maker and a blind sculptor.  And in between all the sight-seeing, the kids played dolls, dress-up, Club Penguin, catsup war, computer games, and more, and we spent hours sitting by the pool drinking lemonade and other, stronger beverages.  

Here are some pictures.

Max and Sam, showing their impeccable table manners.

Helen giving Macey an earfull.

Tamara and Macey at Mitla.

Macey and I have a similar attention span for ruins.  Here:  Mitla.

Here:  Monte Alban.

Macey and Valerie climbing stairs at Monte Alban.  Macey surprised us by zipping up the stairs.

Sam scared us by running down the stairs.

Michael at Monte Alban, connecting with a student.

Macey and Sam at the Santo Domingo Museum.  Wishing they were in school?

Better than a museum:  the candy shop.

Sam went to soccer practice with Max, and played.

Cousins at the Zócalo.

Neat storefront.

Knife-making demonstration.

Sam and Max with Max's classmate Caleb.  Helen dancing hula in the background.  We did not buy the sword, but Sam bought a fishing knife and I bought a machete.

Helen, Max, Sam, and Macey walking home after school pickup.  Yes, Max is holding Helen's hand. 

As much fun as we had and as many things as we did, the best part of the week for the four of us was to spend time with people who know more about us than we have been able to share in the last three months.  We are making many good friends in Oaxaca, several of whom we hope will become lifelong friends.  But nothing like a week with people who already are lifelong friends and family to make us appreciate home.

And now, here is something you might not know about cockroaches.  They may be able to survive a nuclear holocaust, but cockroaches do not last long in a glass of wine.  I learned that a few nights ago.  At first, I could not figure out why the wine I was sipping tickled my lips.  Then I locked eyes with a drowning cockroach that was trying to climb into my mouth.  In the time it took me to spit the wine onto my shirt and then rinse it out, the cockroach died.

Ya no puede caminar.

This has happened to me before, in New Orleans.  Who said lightening never strikes twice?  --Harrison 

Migrants

Last month, I posted pictures of an installation by Helen Escobedo, called Éxodos.  Max and I had passed it on our way to the our tutor Mercedes' house.  The installation consists of approximately 50 life size, downtrodden figures trudging across a plaza and down some stairs in front of the church in the Jalatlaco neighborhood. Although the figures appear to be made only of re-bar covered in rags, their posture and their positioning make the group very lifelike.  In fact, when Natalie and I went back last week, it had migrated to the edge of the plaza and further down the stairs.

There are two possible explanations for the movement.  One is that the installation is intended to be mobile.  The other is that the church needed the plaza for something else so they relocated the figures to the side.  I prefer the first explanation, although I suspect it is not the case.  It would be fitting to have a monument about the plight of migrants migrate across the plaza.

According to an obituary for Helen Escobedo, who died last year, she first exhibited Éxodos in Mexico City in 2009.  (The full exhibit consists of 101 figures, but only about half traveled to Oaxaca.)  The obituary states that the piece evokes "the thousands of persons being exiled from their homelands.”  For me, the piece evokes the migration of Mexicans to the United States.  Almost everybody we speak to in Oaxaca – from taxi drivers to teachers to businessmen to the Zapoteca woman who sells dried seeds at the market – has either been to the United States in search of work or has a relative who has been there.  I often have thought about the difficult border crossing, or of the poor living and work conditions in which many Mexican (and other) immigrants find themselves.  But the toll on those left behind also is heavy.  People here have told us about vast parts of the Mexican countryside that no longer are farmed because the workers all went to the United States, and in some regions skilled labor is scarce for the same reason.  The city of Oaxaca does not feel abandoned in that way, but we have met plenty of people whose father, or whose aunt and uncle, or whose children, live in the United States and are deeply missed.  Perhaps the figures of Éxodos, slowly working their way across the church plaza, are meant to remember them.

On a lighter note, some of you may be wondering about the status of Max's and Helen's food protest that I described in the last post.  Take a look at the date of that post.  Sorry, I could not help myself.  --Harrison

Food protest

Today marks our three month anniversary in Oaxaca.  So far it has exceeded our expectations.  We have met wonderful people, seen incredible sights, learned so much.


The kids, especially, are thriving.  Natalie and I attribute this in part to our decision not to push them to do things they do not want to do.  For instance, when they announced last weekend that they are sick of the local food, Natalie and I went along with it.  According to Max, who is their spokesperson, they will eat only processed food that comes in packages, preferably from outside of Mexico.  No fresh food.

Max and Helen demonstrating their new diet.  Max is adamant they will stick to it.  Helen looks skeptical, but apparently big brother knows best.

Max's and Helen's decision to eat only packaged food will not stop us from enjoying the local delicacies -- in this case, quesadillas with tomatillo salsa and homemade cheese.

The new diet makes it easier to pack the kids' school lunches.

Do we mind?  Not as much as you might think.  Yes, it bothered us when Max locked me and Natalie out of the house for three hours because we did not buy the Twinkies we saw in the grocery store.  (I think he has heard too much about the teacher strikes in Oaxaca, which are a regular occurrence now that spring has arrived.)  But, to be honest, Natalie and I are a little sick of the kids.  There is something satisfying about seeing them do this to themselves.

"Gee kids, maybe next time you should let the water cool down before taking a bite."

As the food protest continues, we will keep you posted on its effects.  So far it has been five days.  I doubt it will last through the end of April.  --Harrison