Saludos de Mexico!
by Ed Levenson
Greetings from Mexico! I retired from the School District of Philadelphia in 2012 and came to Oaxaca City, Mexico in November 2013 to participate in a Spanish-language program and in the S.I.T. (School for International Training) TESOL program here in experiential learning. I am now a volunteer teacher of English at the Oaxaca Learning Center. Not only does the Center have English-language classes for Spanish speakers; it has Spanish-language classes for indigenous students from surrounding villages who speak Zapotec, Mixtec, and such other languages as have been derived from Olmec and Mayan, and whose extended families have resisted learning Spanish since the time of the conquistadores five hundred years ago. In stores in Oaxaca, I am astonished to meet workers who do not understand me; and it takes a few seconds for me to realize that it is not my Spanish shortcomings which are the main problem.
Another revelation has been the enthralling beauty of the traditional crafts from the surrounding villages which are sold in stalls in markets in the city itself as well as in the following respective villages: San Marcos Tlapazola (red pottery), Santa Maria Atzompa, (green pottery), and San Bartolo Coyotepec (black pottery), San Antonino (embroidered blouses), Teotitlan del Valle (woven rugs and tapestries), and Taxco south of Mexico City (silver jewelry).
Most significant are the friendliness and helpfulness of the Mexicans I meet. Perhaps Oaxaca is an exceptional place; I ask taxi drivers whether they were born and brought up here; and most say they have lived here all their lives and love the city, adding that the place is “muy tranquillo,” implying, I think, that they know that other places in Mexico may be less so. For that matter, I find taxi rides themselves to be very enjoyable experiences; and, since I used to drive a cab part-time in Philadelphia, I frequently mention that to drivers saying “todos los taxistas aqui son como mis hermanos” (“all the taxi drivers here are like my brothers”) (to be sure, I have had a few female drivers as well); and we establish friendly relationships. Above all, I have experienced impeccable honesty from taxi drivers and salespeople in all my dealings here. For example, I went to a market recently to buy for an omelette chapulines (salted grasshoppers), a popular delicacy, interestingly, which contains much protein. The woman in a stall gave me two bags and said they cost twenty pesos (about $1.20). I thought she meant twenty pesos each and gave her fifty pesos, gesturing for her to keep the change. She indicated twenty pesos in all and proceeded to ask for the bags back, which she then refilled with double the quantity of grasshoppers.
Before I left the United States, I had been warned by acquaintances to be wary of Mexicans; but I must say that, on the contrary, Americans must eschew nasty stereotypes. They are destructive. As a case in point, I have found that medical care here, contrary to the advice of some, has been excellent. After I ran out of my supply of the medicine niacin brought from Philadelphia, I needed a refill; it bolsters good cholesterol and is the equivalent in America of Vitamin B3. A pharmacist, who was able to fill five other prescriptions, determined that that vitamin per se does not exist in the entire country of Mexico. She then consulted on the phone with a doctor in an adjacent hospital, who rushed to the pharmacy in five minutes, studied the reference material, and concluded that niacin here is found in another form, in “Vitamina PP.” Also, I have gotten both a hearing test and a hearing aid; and I have had the bags under both eyes removed—receiving the care of first-rate specialists. And I might add at a fraction of the costs in America.
I live with a family, whose head is Senora Ruth, my anfitriona. The word, technically, means “hostess”; it is derived from the mythological Anphitryon, father of Hercules. Senora Ruth, however, is much more than a hostess. She is a veritable “house mother.” I call her my “Mama Mexicana.” She has grown children, one of whom works in Mexico City, the second of whom is studying at a university in Puebla. They return for visits, but Senora Ruth’s household is now a family for foreign students who rent rooms in her home. Presently, besides me, a student from Michigan named Becca is here; the warmth in the home is such that not only do I have a new "Mama,” but I am blessed with a new sister as well. And not only that but Senora Ruth’s Mother lives around the corner and visits often. I call her “Mama Abuela” (“Mama Grandma”); in return she calls me “mi nieto” (“my grandson”) or “mi nietecito” (“my little grandson"). I must be the oldest “little grandson” in all of Mexico. We have a very lovable schnauzer here also. His name is "Sit". It appears that, when he was a puppy, he understood "sit" in English but not "sienta te" in Spanish; and the family, therefore, named him "Sit." I think he should become the official mascot for the S.I.T. TESOL program.
In my English-language teaching at the Oaxaca Learning Center, I use exercises with practice conversation and teach vocabulary using flashcards and reinforcing new words with the game “Concentration”; and I am also employing Sandra Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street, to which I was introduced in my very first PhilWP session. I have four delightful students who are beginners in English; and we do converse at times in Spanish, which purists do not recommend. But the learning is a genuine reciprocal process; and as much as I am teaching the students English, they are teaching me Spanish. They see how much I enjoy what they impart to me, and excellent rapport has resulted. I believe that I am teaching The House on Mango Street in a new way and that, because trust has been established, the students are comfortable with my approach. I have a student read slowly a paragraph in the Spanish version twice; then, we read the same paragraph sentence by sentence in English. The text, as is well-known, is a classic about the positives and negatives of the Mexican immigrant experience in Chicago. For the students the English is a huge leap, but they identify easily with the material and are rising to the occasion.
I miss all my friends in the Philadelphia Writing Project. I don’t think anyone will blame me for not missing the weather extremes from which you have suffered last this winter. When I do return to Philadelphia, however, I will be invigorated and ready to get back to business. Meanwhile, for those of you who remember my affinity for telling what I used to think were funny stories--not always appreciated, I know--rest assured that many Mexicans do enjoy my attempts at humor, such as my saying to a waiter in a restaurant, “Tengo hombro,” (“I have a shoulder”) instead of “Tengo hambre” (“I’m hungry”), and then trying to cover my supposed mistake by saying not “fue broma” (“It was a joke”), but “fue bruja” (“It was a witch”).
Ed Levenson is a retired social studies teacher. He joined PHILWP Iin 2007 attending Invitational Summer Institute and participated in Summer Institute II in 2008.