Last Days in Veracruz

Well, Veracruz is officially over (and by the way I’m post-dating this entry due to the whirlwind travel at the end that eventually got me to Ecuador). The last week was definitely a busy one. Mostly what kept me busy was the 25+ page paper I had to write for the class, but also some partying (not gonna try and lie there). All in moderation, right folks?

There is much I could say reflecting on Veracruz, but for the sake of this being a simple blog I will just say that it was nice to get the chance to do a study aboard program. I had always regretted not being able to do one as an undergrad in college and this program gave me the opportunity to have that experience. It was great getting the chance to travel with cool peoples for once instead of solo and learning as much as we did at the same time was an added benefit of the program.

I felt a real sense of loss as people departed during the final days, but it was nice that Gilbert, Vanessa, and I had at least one last day and night in Veracruz together. It sucked that I was still editing a draft of my paper, but I had to get a decent draft into Profe and wanted to get it done before getting to Ecuador (although I had to make some final correction in Quito before submitting another draft). I don’t wanna bore anyone with the details of the paper, but basically I traced out the path of slavery in Mexico and then went into the reasons why people of African descent are no longer recognized in Mexico today, even though the African population was for a time larger than the Spanish population during the early colonial period.

But back to the last Veracruz story. So Gilbert, Vanessa, and I had a nice chill last day and night. On Saturday we went to the Veracruz Aquarium, walked around the city, and partied a bit that night into Sunday morning. At the aquarium we saw fish, turtles, birds, lobsters, jellyfish, eels, stingrays, sharks, coral, etc. Basically, if you can find it in the ocean we saw it there behind the glass. We also had a good time joking around. We tried to get cheaper prices with a student discount (didn’t work), tried to get in other peoples pictures, and attempted to leave through the entrance (that didn’t work either). I also touched a baby stingray (probably not the smartest move), Vanessa got to touch a dead lobster shell (ouchiees!), and Gilbert got to reminisce about being back out in the wild blue sea with his underwater friends.

That night we gave each other mud facials, watched Björk videos on YouTube, and finished off most of the rest of the drinky-drinks that other folks had left behind (killed off Mr. Johnnie Walker too, that was some nasty stuff). I stayed up all night making sure my things were packed and also that I didn’t miss my morning flight. All in all, iIt was a good trip. A study abroad and vacation wrapped in one. Still, it was educational in more than just the scholastic sense and fun in more than just terms of partying and gettin down on the dance floor.

San Juan de Ulúa

Today we went to huge island fort of San Juan de Ulúa, established by colonial Spain off the coast of the port city of Veracruz during the 16th century. This place had big historical significance by helping shape Mexico or “New Spain” as it was called back in the day. I mean everything moved through this island fortress: various goods, raw materials like silver and gold, as well as prisoners and slaves.

Even though I have been to a number of places that slaves built or where they were held, you could definitely feel the evil that was carried out in this place. Maybe part of the reason for that was that we were allowed to enter the rooms where prisoners were held and got to see the holding cells and torture chambers. Our guide explained the different types of methods for torture carried out against people held there and they weren’t pretty. From what I got from the tour it seemed like torture was a pretty equal opportunity thing for the Spanish who ran the castle. African slaves, Indigenous rebels, and European prisoners caught up in war or the Spanish Inquisition all seemed to have been subjected to gruesome methods of physical pain.

Our guide said that San Juan de Ulúa was built with the labor of over 600 slaves, starting in 1565 with the constructions lasting over the next 200 years. When the slaves wouldn’t work, they were locked up in small rooms, crammed together where they could hardly move. They were only given water for up to a week at a time until they agreed to go back to work. At first I wondered why people would help build a fortress that resulted in supporting their own slavery, but just looking into one of the dungeon rooms pretty much explained where the motivation to work came from. I remember hearing that a shallow groove or small trench was carved in the floor of these holding cells for urine, excrement, and whatever other fluids would drain out of the room. Seing little things like this drainage ditch really hit me with how much you can study these things and really still have no idea what they were actually like. Even a 45 minute tour of this castle couldn’t tell me.

We moved through the tour pretty fast because we only had bout an hour before the boat that had brought us over was coming to bring us back to the mainland. It was tough to really reflect on being in a place like this in such a short amount of time, so I just tried to listen to as much of the tour guide as possible as I took pictures. Looking back over which photos to post online my friend Vanessa said that I wasn’t really smiling in any of them. I said I didn’t feeling like smiling at this place, but I did notice that by the end of the tour, when we were out of the castle and about to leave, I was able to joke around with people again and even take a few “fun” pictures with the fortress in the background.

Quiahuiztlán, Cempoala, & Antigua

Today we went to several historical sites, not only of interest concerning Mexico, but for all of the Americas in general. Our first stop was Quiahuiztlán, which is a sacred site of the Totonac people, who were overtaken by the Aztec in the mid-1400s (several decades before Spanish conquistadores came on the scene). Interestingly, the Totonac actually helped Cortés defeat the Aztec because the groups were enemies. But I digress, back to the story of Quiahuiztlán.

Quiahuiztlán is a place where the Totonac buried the remains of their elite rulers. I didn’t take any pictures of these burial sites out of respect for those interred there (only priests and other high officials were even allowed to go up into this area).  Still, I walked too close to the remains of a burial tomb and tripped on the corner of it. My Dwayne Wade converse were scratched, but that’s what you get trying to walk too close to burial sites.

The mountain which stood above this area was the place where Totonac priests preached from (their voices carried down to the people below). The mountain top also served as a lookout point and supposedly the call was given out in 1519 when ten Spanish ships headed by Hernando Cortés were spotted off of the coastline.

Our next stop was Cempoala, a Totonac training group for warriors. There were a number of monuments and pyramids there, including a training circle where I valiantly fought my friend Dulce and defended my honor.
: O D

Hernando Cortés didn’t set up shop in Quiahuiztlán or Cempoala (I don’t think he bothered too much with Cempoala because it wasn’t really in use by the sixteenth century). Instead, Cortés moved to the first Veracruz, what is now called Antigua. Here, the first Christian church was built on the mainland of the Americas. We got to see this church and the house of Cortés. They were right next to each other and I had mixed feelings about both of them. I mean, when thinking about Cortés’ motivation for coming to the Americas, it's clear that little of it had to do with the teachings of Jesus Christ. And most, if not all, of the buildings we see on these trips were built with the hands of forced labor.

After Cortés had left the area, the indigenous inhabitants were going to tear down Cortés’ house, but amazingly a huge tree had grown there with it’s rooted woven throughout the walls, which kept some of them standing. The people there read this as a sign and understood the tree as being sacred. Instead over tearing down the house of Cortés, they left it standing.

The people were right, this place is definitely both sacred and symbolic.

As we walked across a small bridge, where we could see down the river Cortés sailed down and docked his ships roughly 500 years ago, I was down-heartened. I’m good at dealing with tough stuff through laughter and joking, and that’s what I do most of the time on this trip. A lot of this stuff is heavy. You walk around, take a picture of a historic site where a thousand, ten-thousand, or perhaps more people died... and then you move on.

How does any of this connect today? What do we learn by making those connections? Who do we blame for these atrocities? What will blame help accomplish anyway? And how do we deal with our blended heritage that comes from the three corners of the globe? A bigger blog would be needed to answer all this.

Mandinga

After class today we went to Mandinga, which is a little coastal inlet / lake area just South of Veracruz. Today in Mandinga we had some great seafood, then took a boat ride around some of the islands in the area. I guess this place was where rivers meets the ocean there was a mix of freshwater with the sea. We saw a jellyfish, that our boat operator tried to pick up out of the water with his bare hands! We also saw some other wide life too, fish, crabs, and a variety of birds. This included an island where a ton of these birds were nesting and hatching their young.

Special Note: The Mandinka, who are an ethnic group located in West Africa, were sold into slavery in large numbers during the early colonial period.  Many of these slaves are believed to have landed in the port of Veracruz, Mexico.  The linguistic similarity of "Mandinka" to "Mandinga" is obvious and we can see the historical link of West African slaves being brought to this area of Mexico supports this as well.

Happy Father's Day!

Dear Dad,
I don’t think they celebrate Father’s Day as much here in Mexico, or at least it’s not as big as in the US. Can I use this as an excuse for why I’m not calling you to wish you a Happy Father’s Day? Really, I only call you when I’m in the states on the weekends to save your dime, so you think I’m gonna spend 30 pesos a minute here when I’m paying the cost to be the boss? You know I’m cheap, but where do you think I get that from? From you Dad, and I love you for it.

ps. I’m also really forgetful (or not paying close attention half the time) and I honestly forgot that it was even Father’s Day until this girl I was hanging out with mentioned it. I thought about you for a few seconds before she grabbed back my attention. Then I quickly lost focus on anything that didn’t pertain to what I was doing with her. Again, in my defense I can only point out that I am my father’s son, molded and shaped in his own ways. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you Dad or that I’m not thinking about you.

Happy Father’s Day!

Yanga and Mataclara

We went to town of Yanga today with Dr. Sagrario Cruz-Carretera, an expert anthropologist and historian here in Mexico. Needless to say, we got a lot of history in a short amount of time. I was late getting up and had to rush to catch the bus at 8am (though I wasn’t the only late one). We all slept on the bus ride to Yanga. The town is named after the African slave who fought the Spanish in the late 1500s along with other runaway slaves. They lived up in the mountains and their guerilla tactics repeatedly frustrated the Spanish. The Africans eventually won free status and recognition after years of fighting because the Spanish crown basically couldn’t stop them.

I got the chance to ask some other questions about slavery and got some really good answers from Professora Carratera. We also stopped at a small museo in this place called Palmillas (which I think might actually be a part of Yanga). Though not many people of direct African descent live in Yanga today, we visited another town called Mataclara, where people can be more clearly identified as being of African descent and in the past few decades have come to recognize their African roots. Florentino Virgen, a local leader at Mataclara, spoke with us about the town and gave us some insight into the the Afro-Mexicano experience. For hundreds of years many Mexicans of African descent deny their African slave past and give numerous other explanations for their dark skin or West African features. However, Florentino commented that “Negro no es un pecado” (Black is not a sin). This comment really struck me, as did much of what he had to say about reclaiming an African past, the closeness of the community, and labor issues.

Another thing I’m learning more about world labor systems, especially as they concern immigration and remittances (money made by immigrants in a foreign country that is sent back to their home country / communities). NAFTA policies passed in 1994 really affected this area by destroying prices of locally produced sugarcane. It got to the point where syrup was imported into Mexico because it was cheaper than domestic sugarcane. Men were forced to leave their families to find work an in other towns and many went to the US. The township of Mataclara was so close-knit that the men who had immigrated to the US sent back money (remittances) to family and has been used by the community to do things like build roads in the town. What a trip! I didn’t realize the extent to which international policy can so directly and substantially affect people on the ground materially. The “boarder problem” in the US was created by our crappy policies in the US. Go to Mexico and ask somebody.

Brush the Dirt Off

Well, we’ve had a long week, spending most of it at the conference: “Diaspora, Nation, & Difference: Populations of African Descent in Mexico and Central America.” We’ve been really busy with attending hours of panels and doing work for class while we’ve also had to figure out a new city. It takes a few days to get situated to where the best places to eat are at, where to do laundry, and of course where to party. All of Veracruz seems like one big party at times. Often times there’s more going on at 12am than at 12-noon.

My Spanish is coming back, slowly of course, but then again it was never excellent and I’m still trying to work on it. The problem is that I’m speaking too much English right now (that problem will be fixed as soon as I get to Ecuador, where there won’t be many people to speak English with where I’ll be staying). Anyway, most of the conference was presented in Spanish and I didn’t get the translator headphones so I didn’t catch everything. Just listening in Spanish forced me to pay closer attention and try to translate things myself. I understood enough between the English presentations and the Spanish ones with slides though (when I can see words in Spanish now I usually do pretty well with translating).

Mexico (and Latin America in general) is still dealing with how to move beyond its colonial past concerning race and racism. While in many ways, most people in Mexico are accepted as being mestizo, or “mixed,” this definition is extremely complicated, especially when taking into consideration people of African descent. The discussion of titles, self-identification, and colonial terminology repeatedly came up and was one of the more interesting discussions. Whether “Afro” or “negro” should be embraced or rejected by Latin Americans of African descent is definitely an issue that strikes close to home for me. It became heated at times as some people argued vehemently that they were “black” first (e.g. Afro-Cubano, Afro-Mexcicano, etc.), while others took the stance that they identified most closely with their national identity (e.g. Cuban, Mexican, etc.).

Oh, we also experienced some pretty strong elitism as our group got kicked out the closing conference reception tonight cause we weren’t “guest speakers.” We were all dressed up and already sitting at one of the big round tables about to get our free-eat on and were rudely told to leave. It was cool though, our group went to get some drinks (I grabbed a couple 26 peso tortas - cheap & good!), and then we went out and partied tillat this place with a stage right in the middle of the club with the band playing. They Dj spun reggaeton and electronica in between the band’s sets and we danced until almost 4am. Brush the dirt off your shoulder and keep it movin.

From Xalapa to the City of Veracruz

Yesterday we left Xalapa for the city of Veracruz for the second stint of our five week trip (check the map at the bottom to see locations). We stopped at a few places along the route, including El Lencero, which was a hacienda, or large estate, of General Antonio López de Santa Anna. Santa Anna was the general who won the Battle of the Alamo in 1836, and was also President of Mexico on and off over the span of 15 years from 1833-1847. El Lencero definitely was a nice place, including all the amenities of the 19th century. If they had MTV cribs back 150 years ago this place would definitely have been showcased. I mean, how many people do you know who build their own church next to their mansion?

The port city of Veracruz is definitely a bit more lively than Xalapa (even though the public square in the picture at left was almost empty during midday, it was jumping with people Saturday at midnight). The food and atmosphere are somewhat touristy, and the city has a strong Caribbean vibe to it. The music, architecture, and people remind me more of Havana, Cuba than other places I’ve been in Mexico. This just goes to show that Mexico is a diverse place, with many different cultural influences.

El Tajín

This blog won’t take all the pictures I want to post so I’ve uploaded the hottest pics through Google’s Picasa. Just click on any picture to go directly to the album or you can download the pics in full resolution here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/dubbelish/
Yesterday we took a 4 hour bus ride to the ancient Totonac city of Tajín. El Tajín (Place of Thunder) is a city that contains a number of pyramids and other stone structures. The immense monuments are over a thousand years old and you could definitely tell building them was labor intensive, requiring a massive amount of human power to move and position thousands of tons of rock. None of us could even imagine having to move stone in that kind of heat! I was sweating like a dog just walking around.

Of particular interest were the courts, where the ancient mesoamerican ball game was played. I think our guide said there were 17 ball courts there of various sizes. The object of the game was to bounce a rubber ball (weighing almost ten pounds) through a circular goal using only your hips! Another interesting thing about this game was that the winner was ceremoniously sacrificed, which was considered a great honor in Totonac culture. There were some pictures of these players and a representation of one of these sacrifices carved into some of the stones there. Another beautiful carving also included the god Quetzecoatl (all these pics described above are in the photo album).

Hot Springs/Aguas Calientes

After class today (which included a lecture on the African slave trade to Mexico - some really interesting stuff) a bunch of us went to some natural hot springs to rest those weary bones. The sulfur rich waters were hot and soothing, but smell a bit like rotten eggs (though you don’t really notice it after a few minutes). My body hasn’t been this relaxed since winter break when I was vegging out with family and friends.

On a side note: Obama clinched the Democratic nomination today!

¡Sí se puede!