Archive for the chiapas Category

it is hard to leave…

Posted in chiapas, mexico with tags , , on March 31, 2008 by markschaumann

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The “camionetta” is the mode of transportation and prized possession  of the campesino. In Chiapas state they are mostly little red pickups with the bed enclosed with corrugated stainless steel sheet on the sides. They are always clean and in good repair reflecting a pride in ownership.  The roof is open so everyone standing in the back can look over the sides or cab and view the scenery as they barrel down the mountainous roads. If it is raining they tie a tarp over the top so everyone stays dry.  Across the top of the cab is lettered a message such as:
God is love
Jesus saves
Jesus is the way
Gift of God
Only God knows my destiny
All we want is God
Thanks to God
Guide me Lord
Lion of Judah
There are many more that I don’t remember or can’t translate readily. Emblazoning a reference to God across the front of their prized possessions indicates to me, that God has a prime position in their lives.

As I study this society, I notice that in some regards it is like what America used to be. I am not saying everything is good about that, but I can’t help take notice how children are more obedient and respectful. The family unit is closer. The reverence towards God. Little evidence of drugs. The lack of crime (and this means when they immigrate to the USA the crime rate goes down where they settle). Abortion is illegal. Everyone values their job and tries to excel at it.  Authority is respected.

My Spanish instructor at the Latin Community Center also instructs the police department in the Spanish language and some cultural sensitivity issues they need to now about. She said when a Hispanic individual is pulled over in a car, he will not look  the officer in the eye. He will look ahead or down as a sign of respect. (I have no doubt that many cops have taken this as a insult requiring a call for backup and some flashlight therapy). I see similarities here when I encounter people younger than me; often I will hear someone say “de donde viene?” but I am unsure who said it and weather they were talking to me, because nobody is looking at me.

To some extent, I am seeing Mexico through rose colored glasses.  Not being fluent in the language I miss a lot of what is going on around me and I am just not too observant. To understand the culture, one needs to be involved in peoples lives, and all my relationships so far have been superficial. I see all the big smiles, but I don’t look far beyond them; but I am beginning to slow down and study things better. My lingual ability, (or LACK of lingual ability) is the big obstacle in getting to know people better.

 With all that being said, it’s still very impressive that I have had zero bad experiences in the months that I have been here. Sooner or later SOMETHING has got to happen that will tarnish the sparkle; however, it doesn’t look like its going to happen this trip, shortly I will be closing the door on Mexico and entering GUATEMALA! I hope its a lot like Mexico.

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San Cristobal de las Casas

Posted in chiapas, mexico with tags , , , on March 24, 2008 by markschaumann

Chiapas comedor

San Cristobal de las Casas has its hooks in me. “Desire” moves me from one town to the next, and “desire” has been absent since I arrived here. The climate at 2200 meters is a pleasant change after the heat of the Yucatan. The people are most friendly with a large indigenous population. While there are a lot of tourists here, if I ride my bike several kilometers out of town and stop at a roadside comedor for a Coca-Cola, I am once again an oddity that must be investigated. I enjoy these encounters immensely. I approach them with a big smile and gregarious attitude. First, there is initial shock that there is a gringo is at the door shouting “buenas dias” and wanting a soda, after they recover from that, they fetch me a drink and watch from a distance. I make myself comfortable at the plastic table and chairs that are always in front of each comedor and act like I got all the time in the world. Often times the first one to get up the courage to check the gringo out is a child. If its a boy he will always start by looking at (but not touching) the bicycle. If it’s girls they will say the one English word they know, maybe “hello” then run away giggling. I have had some interesting conversations with Mestizo women at comedors, they are often very curious about me. the indigenous women less so, they tend to remain aloof and watch from a distance (but not always). Spanish is a second language for many of the indigenous. The lengthiest conversations I have had have been with other men who are on break from work and stop and share the table with me. Usually they come in groups and there is often one who has worked in the States and knows a little English and is eager to use it. I have never had a bad experience at these roadside rests. I can’t ever remember someone giving a mean look or treating me like I wasn’t welcome there . It’s always a rich cultural experience that both sides enjoy and often culminates with the realization that we are not much different. Same problems, same joys, same aspirations.  

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Good Friday

Posted in chiapas, mexico with tags , , on March 21, 2008 by markschaumann

christ carry cross

He died so that I will live

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and he gave his life as a ransom for many others.

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But the story didn´t end here, hang on, Sunday is coming…..

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a visit with the doctor…..

Posted in chiapas, healthcare, mexico with tags , on March 17, 2008 by markschaumann

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The doctors office door 

With the USA presidential campaigns in high gear the healthcare issue is at the forefront of political debate once again. The healthcare system in the USA is expensive and complicated. I had an encounter with the Mexican system this week and I will share the experience with you.

My eyes have been bothering me for the last year or two. At the end of the day they hurt. I blink a lot and can’t stay up late watching the television. The problem has got much worse over the last two months. I’ve been riding south into the  sun and its has took a toll on my eyes. They are completely bloodshot, I look like a dope addict. (lil’ sidenote, speaking of drug  addicts, I saw a GOOD movie this week called “Things We Lost in the Fire”  Benecio del Toro is a superb actor, and Halle Berry, well she is ***Halle Berry***, ‘xcuse the interruption, but I just had to tell someone about it) Back on point-

 I can’t sleep at night, it feels like I have sand in my eyes.  I decided it was time to see the doctor. There are three options for medical care that I know of: go to a public health clinic, go to the Red Cross, or see a private doctor. To visit a private doctor is the most costly, but still should be cheap. I asked the folks that run the Posada where I am staying where they thought I should go. They recommended an eye doctor that was close and they called and made an appointment for me. I set off  for the doctor early in case I had trouble finding him. I found the intersection where the office should be without  problem, but there was nothing there. I asked a guy who was walking by if he knew where the eye doctor was. He pointed at a red door in the stone wall running along the road. The door had no markings or signs. I pulled the cord that was hanging on the right side and it rang a bell. A couple of minutes passed and a little window in the door opened and a child asked what I wanted. I replied I had an appointment with the eye doctor. She smiled and said, “you want the señorita” and closed the window. Hmmm…. So the doctor is a señorita, I begin to wonder what she looks like. Five minutes go by and the niña doesn’t return, but an old guy shows up with a key to the door and he lets me in. Behind the wall, on a very large lot, is what looks to be a stone house with a tile roof  but it is too big to be a house. He points to the sliding glass door where I should enter. I enter and have a seat in a chair and take in the surroundings. It is dead quiet. The stone wall isolates the street noise and there is no noise coming from within, not even the hum of a refrigerator. The floor is polished brick, the walls are cedar tongue and groove with a painted ceramic tile cove base. There is no ceiling, leaving the underside of the roof exposed. Large rough hewn beams support the roof. There is an open courtyard in the center of the building.

 The doctor is late, but that’s OK, I need some time to think about how I am going to answer the questions she will have for me. I get my electronic dictionary out and figure out how to describe the problem. I hear the doctor entering the building, then she appears in the hallway. She starts with the questions as soon as she sees me. She speaks fast. This is going to be difficult. I take my glasses off and show her my eyes. I see sympathy and understanding in her eyes. We go to an exam room and she give me the E chart exam (you know, the one where you point which way the E is facing), I score perfect with my glasses on. Then we go to a different exam room, where she turns out all the lights and peers in my eyes with a tiny light. Then we go to a third exam room where she looks in my eyes with a microscope of sorts. Then we go to her office. On her desk is a mechanical typewriter, not a computer, not a electric typewriter, but a mechanical typewriter, I haven’t seen one of them in a while. She draws a diagram of my eye with a pencil and puts a lot of dots in the white area and explains that I have lesions on my eyes. She says a lot of things but most of it is going over my head. We get to the treatment phase and I need to understand this perfectly. She realizes this and slows down a bit. She writes the name of the two drugs I need on a pad and goes over how to administer them, it’s kind of complicated, so she goes over it a few times and then has me repeat it back to her to show that I comprehend the instructions. And that’s it. Total cost 200 pesos ($18USD). She compliments me on how well I speak Spanish (ha ha) and sends me on my way. The drugs cost me 90 pesos at the pharmacy; I’ve been on them for three days and I definitely feel better, I am sleeping better than I have in a long time.

So, how does that compare with the healthcare system that you are dealing with?

I’m thinkin’ maybe I ought to visit the dentist while I’m here….
   

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