Yesterday one of my female students (there are 19 females and 4 males in the program),we'll call her N, reported a disturbing but unfortunately somewhat common experience. She had been exploring her neighborhood in broad daylight when the man walking a few yards in front of her suddenly turned around and pulled down his pants. She continued walking by him, squishing herself as close to the wall of the house on the street, and as far away from him, as possible.
I saw her soon after the incident. I told her that she had reacted in an appropriate manner, since responding in any way (yelling, turning around and running away) would have given the man an opportunity to respond as well, and shown him that he had affected her in some way. Having had a similar experience myself last year, I had felt confused, shocked, and then just really angry afterward. I asked her how she felt about it, and she said she didn't know how she was supposed to feel. Another student, L, said her first reaction would have been to throw punches, but N and I sincerely doubt she would have actually done so, since in the moment you're just so surprised and taken aback.
Last year, another student had someone try to reach up her skirt, and others were groped in public places like subways and just walking down the street, or propositioned in a lewd and inappropriate manner. A friend studying in Italy also had similar experiences, so it seems that this isn't just an issue in Mexico. In most cases, the men did not seem crazy or emotionally disturbed. They just seem to think that they can get away with this behavior with foreign women. I doubt they would ever try it with someone from their own country.
As for preventing this kind of thing, it seems almost impossible, since the events happen during the day, when other people are around and in busy neighborhoods and public places, and they occur with almost no warning. I suggested that N not walk down that street again, but that's about as much advice as I can give her, aside from providing a sympathetic ear.
Showing posts with label wtf mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wtf mexico. Show all posts
Sunday, January 10
Tuesday, March 10
Conspiracy Theory
On the long bus ride from Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido, I sat next to a chatty Mexican musician on his way to Huatulco to play a few gigs. The conversation went the usual route: where we were from, family, job, Mexico, and finally US politics. At which point, Jose Luis (that was his name) busted out with an insane conspiracy theory he read on the internet and swore was true because the daring journalist who reported it had been fired and black-listed by the government from working at any other news outlet. Here's the theory:
Beginning with the George W. Bush administration and continuing with Obama, the government has been planning to replace the dollar with a new currency called the "amero" or something like that. The plan is to replace US dollars (along with Canadian dollars and Mexican pesos) with the amero overnight, so that someone who has $1 million when they go to bed one night will wake up with effectively $250,000, or 1 million ameros. This is somehow supposed to help with the national deficit, make government officials rich, and also, of course, anger every single American with any money, not to mention the Canadians and Mexicans. Obviously there will be a giant uprising with rioting, looting, etc. And that's why Obama is planning to withdraw troops from Iraq: he needs them at home to quell any uprising.
Here's what wikipedia has to say on the topic.
Beginning with the George W. Bush administration and continuing with Obama, the government has been planning to replace the dollar with a new currency called the "amero" or something like that. The plan is to replace US dollars (along with Canadian dollars and Mexican pesos) with the amero overnight, so that someone who has $1 million when they go to bed one night will wake up with effectively $250,000, or 1 million ameros. This is somehow supposed to help with the national deficit, make government officials rich, and also, of course, anger every single American with any money, not to mention the Canadians and Mexicans. Obviously there will be a giant uprising with rioting, looting, etc. And that's why Obama is planning to withdraw troops from Iraq: he needs them at home to quell any uprising.
Here's what wikipedia has to say on the topic.
Thursday, February 26
Regaderas and plomeros
The problem with my bathroom in Oaxaca is that the shower head (regadera) is so corroded that the water goes almost everywhere but straight down. This causes several difficulties, the two main ones being that I get shampoo in my eyes a lot because I try to suds up outside the water stream, but there's no such thing in my shower stall, so the little spritzes make the suds run into my eyes; and that the water escapes the shower walls and soaks the entire bathroom floor, door, and wall next to my towel. If I'm not careful to push my towel to one side, I will in fact be forced to dry off with a soaking towel.
But I had discovered that if I aimed the shower head just right and only turned the water on just a little, the bathroom wouldn't get wet. I briefly considered asking the 2 women (both named Rosa) who take care of the building if I could get a new shower head. But I figured that since they clean my place twice a week, they were fully aware of the issue and chose not to deal with it.
However, once my parents came to visit, my dad decided that something HAD to be done. It was such an easy problem, he had changed shower heads many times. So he talked to the Rosas in his broken Spanish and managed to communicate his idea to them and ask for directions to the nearest hardware store. They were fully willing to let him go ahead with the project as long as he was paying for it.
Before leaving for the hardware store, my dad told me his plan. I begged him not to do it because I thought something was bound to go wrong, but he insisted that it was a simple process. I couldn't stop him, so I went off to meet a friend. While I was gone, he hit up 3 hardware stores, bought a shower head and pipe, and a wrench. But while trying to unscrew the extremely corroded shower head, he accidentally also turned the pipe coming out of the wall. And when he turned on the water, it came out of the new shower head, but also straight out of the wall.
So he decided to try to unscrew the pipe from the wall and change it out for the new pipe that came with the shower head. Of course the pipe broke off and left a chunk inside the wall. At this point he realized he was screwed, and went and talked to the Rosas, who decided to call a plumber (plomero. There's a lot of English influence on Mexican Spanish). Luckily, the plumber arrived on his bicycle in less than 15 minutes on a Saturday, and was able to get the remainder of the pipe out of the wall and install the new pipe and shower head. All for the ridiculously low price of 200 pesos (about $18).
I came home when the plumber was leaving the building on his bike and Rosa was collecting the 200 pesos from my dad in the door of my apartment. She immediately recounted the whole history to me, and my reaction was, of course, "Que sorpresa!". As soon as the door closed, I let out quite satisfying and emphatic, "I TOLD YOU SO" to my dad, and then thanked God that I hadn't been here for the whole process.
I admit the new shower works quite well, and it was cheap. But if the plumber hadn't been able to extract the broken pipe segment, they would have had to take apart the entire tiled wall of the shower stall and redone it with new tile, since they no longer sell the tile it's made with. And this would have cost much more and probably left us without a shower or possibly running water for several days.
Since then, my dad has defered to my judgment on (ridiculous) ideas or projects that he has come up with while in Mexico. Much to my relief.
But I had discovered that if I aimed the shower head just right and only turned the water on just a little, the bathroom wouldn't get wet. I briefly considered asking the 2 women (both named Rosa) who take care of the building if I could get a new shower head. But I figured that since they clean my place twice a week, they were fully aware of the issue and chose not to deal with it.
However, once my parents came to visit, my dad decided that something HAD to be done. It was such an easy problem, he had changed shower heads many times. So he talked to the Rosas in his broken Spanish and managed to communicate his idea to them and ask for directions to the nearest hardware store. They were fully willing to let him go ahead with the project as long as he was paying for it.
Before leaving for the hardware store, my dad told me his plan. I begged him not to do it because I thought something was bound to go wrong, but he insisted that it was a simple process. I couldn't stop him, so I went off to meet a friend. While I was gone, he hit up 3 hardware stores, bought a shower head and pipe, and a wrench. But while trying to unscrew the extremely corroded shower head, he accidentally also turned the pipe coming out of the wall. And when he turned on the water, it came out of the new shower head, but also straight out of the wall.
So he decided to try to unscrew the pipe from the wall and change it out for the new pipe that came with the shower head. Of course the pipe broke off and left a chunk inside the wall. At this point he realized he was screwed, and went and talked to the Rosas, who decided to call a plumber (plomero. There's a lot of English influence on Mexican Spanish). Luckily, the plumber arrived on his bicycle in less than 15 minutes on a Saturday, and was able to get the remainder of the pipe out of the wall and install the new pipe and shower head. All for the ridiculously low price of 200 pesos (about $18).
I came home when the plumber was leaving the building on his bike and Rosa was collecting the 200 pesos from my dad in the door of my apartment. She immediately recounted the whole history to me, and my reaction was, of course, "Que sorpresa!". As soon as the door closed, I let out quite satisfying and emphatic, "I TOLD YOU SO" to my dad, and then thanked God that I hadn't been here for the whole process.
I admit the new shower works quite well, and it was cheap. But if the plumber hadn't been able to extract the broken pipe segment, they would have had to take apart the entire tiled wall of the shower stall and redone it with new tile, since they no longer sell the tile it's made with. And this would have cost much more and probably left us without a shower or possibly running water for several days.
Since then, my dad has defered to my judgment on (ridiculous) ideas or projects that he has come up with while in Mexico. Much to my relief.
Wednesday, February 11
Taxi colectivo
One of the major forms of transportation around here are collective taxis. To and from the airport, they are usually large white vans. But around town and to and from Oaxaca de Juarez and the tiny surrounding pueblos, they are early 90s-era 4 door economy sedans with manual transmissions, a la Toyota Corollas or equivalent Nissans. The cars are pretty old and feel a bit rickety, with springs poking through worn-out seats and spent shocks doing little to soften the huge speed bumps and potholes common on Mexican roads. Taxis are red and white, and usually have large lettering on the top of the windshield with their destination: Atzompa, San Agustín, etc. A ride costs 10 pesos (about 60 cents). But the real kicker with these taxis is that they cram them to the gills: 4 people in back and 2 people in the one front seat.
On my first ride, I was lucky enough to get the front seat, since the back was crammed with 4 males. But after we had gone about 400 feet, the taxi driver suddenly pulled over for a stout woman standing at the side of the road. I could hardly believe it when she opened the front door and climbed in beside me. I scooted over as far as I could until I was sitting on the emergency brake, with my left leg resting against the stick shift and my left shoulder against the driver's seat. I had to concentrate on keeping my left leg pushed as far to the right as possible so the driver had room to shift gears. Luckily it was only a 10 minute ride and the woman was the first person to get out (you tell the driver where you want to be dropped off).
It was a weirdly awesome experience. I'll definitely be doing it again, since you really can't beat the price, and the discomfort only lasts a short time.
On my first ride, I was lucky enough to get the front seat, since the back was crammed with 4 males. But after we had gone about 400 feet, the taxi driver suddenly pulled over for a stout woman standing at the side of the road. I could hardly believe it when she opened the front door and climbed in beside me. I scooted over as far as I could until I was sitting on the emergency brake, with my left leg resting against the stick shift and my left shoulder against the driver's seat. I had to concentrate on keeping my left leg pushed as far to the right as possible so the driver had room to shift gears. Luckily it was only a 10 minute ride and the woman was the first person to get out (you tell the driver where you want to be dropped off).
It was a weirdly awesome experience. I'll definitely be doing it again, since you really can't beat the price, and the discomfort only lasts a short time.
Wednesday, February 4
WTF, Mexico?
WTF, Mexico? is an on-going commentary on the weird things I see that make me think, "WTF?". Kind of like the odd dental work I described in the "Bush should go to jail" post.
This installment of WTF, Mexico? deals with the vacant lot across the street from my apartment. It's surrounded by a chain link fence on two sides and a corrugated metal fence on the third. 3 walls and the second floor of an old cinder block building stand on the south end against the corrugated metal fence, while the rest of the lot is filled with dry, dusty brown scrub and random pieces of garbage.
On Monday, I noticed a lone man with a machete chopping down the patchy knee-high brush. He's been working there for the past three days, clearing a rather pathetic patch in the brush near the decrepit building. He's not there today. I have no clue why anyone would bother to clear this lot except to begin a massive construction project that would require heavy machinery and certainly more than one person. It's prime real estate, so that wouldn't surprise me. But the one guy, apparently hacking away for no reason at all? WTF?
This installment of WTF, Mexico? deals with the vacant lot across the street from my apartment. It's surrounded by a chain link fence on two sides and a corrugated metal fence on the third. 3 walls and the second floor of an old cinder block building stand on the south end against the corrugated metal fence, while the rest of the lot is filled with dry, dusty brown scrub and random pieces of garbage.
On Monday, I noticed a lone man with a machete chopping down the patchy knee-high brush. He's been working there for the past three days, clearing a rather pathetic patch in the brush near the decrepit building. He's not there today. I have no clue why anyone would bother to clear this lot except to begin a massive construction project that would require heavy machinery and certainly more than one person. It's prime real estate, so that wouldn't surprise me. But the one guy, apparently hacking away for no reason at all? WTF?
Monday, January 19
"Bush should go to jail"
Yesterday I was strolling up Alcalá, a pedestrian street paved with cobblestones that forms the tourism backbone of Oaxaca City, when a random Mexican man stopped me and asked the time. When I told him it was a quarter to three (tres menos cuarto), he asked if I was from Argentina, because in Mexico (he claimed), they say cuarto para las tres. Today I verified this, although at the time I strongly suspected he was messing with me.
When I said that no, I was not Argentinian but from the US, he immediately started talking about Bush, and how didn't I think that Bush should be sent to jail? I was so surprised at the comment that I kind of laughed, and said that yes he should, but it was very unlikely to ever happen. After that the conversation died out and I made my escape. The whole conversation had been friendly, I didn't feel that this random Mexican blamed me for Bush's actions because I was American. But it was very odd. There is definitely strong anti-American sentiment regarding the recent conflict in Israel/Gaza, as evidenced by this graffitti on the American Consulate.
Also, what is up with the dental work in Mexico? Instead of doing porcelain or tooth-colored caps, they put gold or silver frames around individual teeth. It gives me the creeps, even though I realize it's much more common. It makes people seem older than they are, or dirty because they somehow don't take proper care of their teeth. I'm not talking about an entire gold tooth; I'm talking about just a very thin outline around the outer edge of the tooth. I've seen it on women and men, both, and I have a very hard time not staring.
When I said that no, I was not Argentinian but from the US, he immediately started talking about Bush, and how didn't I think that Bush should be sent to jail? I was so surprised at the comment that I kind of laughed, and said that yes he should, but it was very unlikely to ever happen. After that the conversation died out and I made my escape. The whole conversation had been friendly, I didn't feel that this random Mexican blamed me for Bush's actions because I was American. But it was very odd. There is definitely strong anti-American sentiment regarding the recent conflict in Israel/Gaza, as evidenced by this graffitti on the American Consulate.
Also, what is up with the dental work in Mexico? Instead of doing porcelain or tooth-colored caps, they put gold or silver frames around individual teeth. It gives me the creeps, even though I realize it's much more common. It makes people seem older than they are, or dirty because they somehow don't take proper care of their teeth. I'm not talking about an entire gold tooth; I'm talking about just a very thin outline around the outer edge of the tooth. I've seen it on women and men, both, and I have a very hard time not staring.
Friday, January 9
A note about change
The other day I bought an ice cream cone at La Michoacana, a chain that sells ice cream, popsicles, etc. There are 4 branches alone on the zócalo. I tried to pay for a 10 peso cone with a 50 peso bill, and the woman there actually refused to take it, claiming they didn't have any change (it was like paying for something that cost a dollar with a five dollar bill). So I dug through all my coins and came up with 9.50 pesos, 0.50 pesos short. I was about to leave in extremely annoyed defeat when the woman behind me in line offered me the 0.50 I needed.
This is a trend around here. Nobody likes to accept bills that are even slightly more than what you're paying for. And since you have to spend your small bills and coins all the time, you never have any change. It's a Catch-22. I currently have a few 500 peso bills (about $50), and I have no idea how I'm going to break them. Probably buy some books or something.
This is a trend around here. Nobody likes to accept bills that are even slightly more than what you're paying for. And since you have to spend your small bills and coins all the time, you never have any change. It's a Catch-22. I currently have a few 500 peso bills (about $50), and I have no idea how I'm going to break them. Probably buy some books or something.
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