Oaxaca Cultural Navigator

I’m nearly through Charles Mann’s “1491″ — an extraordinary, powerful testimony to the survival and skill of native American people who, archeologists have posited, have lived in the Americas for at least 32,000 years. When most of Europe was covered in ice and uninhabitable, North and South America were populous and thriving. I’m discovering so much that I did not know because it was never taught in school: the diseases of influenza and small pox were responsible for wiping out 90% of the Indian population making it easy for the European conquerors to overcome any resistance; waves of migration from Asia probably occurred through Beringa (a swath of land from Alberta, Canada, fanning down into Washington State) and along the coastal areas of the Americas. Sea-going, hide covered canoes could have traveled from North America to the farthest tip of South America in a 10-15 year span. Indians were the world’s first mathematicians, architects, astronomers, and cultivators, and it is useful for us to reflect on the enormous impact this has had on the world as we examine the superiority myths that our western culture and history perpetuate.
Here is an excerpt from the book that I want to share with you:

“Mesoamerica would deserve its place in the human pantheon if its inhabitants had only created maize, in terms of harvest weight the world’s most important crop. But the inhabitants of Mexico and northern Central America also developed tomatoes, now basic to Italian cuisine; peppers, essential to Thai and Indian food; all the world’s squashes (except for a few domesticated in the United States); and many of the beans on dinner plates around the world. One writer has estimated that Indians developed 3/5 of the crops now in cultivation, most of them in Mesoamerica. Having secured their food supply, Mesoamerican societies turned to intellectual pursuits. In a millennium or less, a comparatively short time, they invented their own writing, astronomy, and mathematics, including the zero.”

Perhaps we would treat the Mexican farm or construction worker with greater respect if there was a greater knowledge and appreciation for the cultural history of her or his native Mexico. Perhaps there would be less fervor to build a fence and strengthen the border if we acknowledged the cultural assets of immigrants. Perhaps we could build a bridge rather than a barrier that would create collaborations and exchange.

Airport Melting Pot

Yesterday was a LONG travel day, starting at 2:30 a.m. eastern time.  As soon as I landed in Miami, I knew I was in the transition to Latin America.  In the airport, Spanish is the dominant language both among travelers and service people.  As an English speaker with a very rudimentary knowledge of Spanish, it is clear to me that it will be critical for future cross cultural communication in our world, we must become bilingual.  I also began to notice in the airport melting pot that we are a country of beautiful, racially diverse peoples whose origins are from throughout the Caribbean. And, then, what do I find when I land in Mexico City?  Krispy Kreme donuts and Starbucks coffee along the endless shopping mall promenade on the way to the connecting gate to Oaxaca.  Now, why am I surprised that a Winston-Salem, North Carolina, company (almost in my back yard, so to speak) has implanted itself into Mexican food culture? In North Carolina we struggle with the integration of Latino immigrants, whether to accept academically talented yet undocumented students into our colleges and universities at resident tuition rates, and how far we will go legally (or not) to expel the “other” from our midst. On the other side of the border, Mexico struggles with the Americanization of its culture, the erosion of identity through the likes of Krispy Kreme and Starbucks, Dannon competing with Lala in the refrigerator case, ubiquitous television marketing a consumer lifestyle.  

Going through “immigration” in Mexico City, I see the teenage brothers and sisters traveling in pairs, without their parents, entering the country of their cultural origin but not their birth, U.S. passport in hand.  Intuitively I know what this is about: the parents, undocumented immigrants, sending their children who were born in the U.S. “home” to visit grandmother (abuela) and tio (uncle) and primos (cousins) to keep the family connection alive.  I board the plane to Oaxaca and sit next to a beautiful 14 year old. She is traveling with her mother and sister.  Her English is impeccable, yet she looks Zapotec.  She says it is a language her grandfather speaks, but no one else in the family learned it.  She was born in Fresno, California.  They traveled by bus from Fresno to Tijuana, where they bought plane tickets to Oaxaca through Mexico City.  This must be a path that many from Mexico who live on the west coast take and I realize that there are many layers to our culture in the U.S.  – many ways of innovation and living that I am not aware of because I live in my own world. 

Eric and my sister, Barbara, pick me up from the airport in Oaxaca, and I am now back in the land I call my other home. (I am almost 62 and wonder how long it will be that I can make this lengthy journey, and then I recall my aunt who has been traveling alone to India for over 30 years.  She is now 90 and continues to make the trip–an admirable quality!)

Food Culture

We stop for dinner at El Porton before going on to Teotitlan.  This is a new diner that looks a lot like Denny’s, but what a surprise!  We had squash blossom soup and chicken flautas topped with mole, crema and avacado.  It was as good as if we were in a 4-star restaurant and the bill was under $10 per person including drinks.