Being immersed, aka being surrounded by another culture in day-to-day activities, really brings out the differences in how we do things, how we relate to things, and why we are the strange creatures that we are. I have been back from my annual winter getaway to Merida, Yucatan, Mexico, for two weeks now, and I am just starting to feel ready to rejoin life on the Canadian prairies. But it shouldn’t be a surprise. I mean for five weeks I didn’t speak or hear English except when talking to my husband. I was one of few non-Mayan or Mexican people living in our neighbourhood community. I was the outsider, and that is a role I am not used to playing.
It can be stressful, not knowing what to expect. I like to visualize situations before I’m in them. I like to know, or have an inkling, of what is going to happen, what things will look like, what to expect. It is also very exciting. Exploring new things, learning new ways and having mini adventures is a great way to learn about culture.
Of course, I love experiencing Mexican culture by going to special shows aimed at tourists. Merida has something cultural every night of the week! I love going to the market and authentic restaurants. But for me, it’s all about the little things. The little things that people do. The little things that are different from what you’re used to. The little things that add excitement to the day.
Some of the “cultural highlights” for me were:
- The fellow who climbed on to his roof and threw ripe mangos down to us
- Parrots swarming our car on a country road
- Everyone saying Buenos Dios, or Buenos Noches or just Buenos when they walk past
- Knowing that animal rights activists are stepping up to stop the mistreatment of animals at the bull fights
- The cocina económica next door: hearing the cooks chatting, singing and laughing as they prepare meals daily in the outdoor kitchen; the smells of delicious food wafting over the wall; making me a special batch of horchata when they hadn’t made any that morning
- The same cocina making me plátanos because I don’t like the bean soup
- Supper at San Pedro: SP was once a small town, but Merida grew around it. The houses and a few small restaurants are built around a field where carnivals and bull fights still take place. The restaurant we went to cooks everything over a wood fire and the wood is gathered from the surrounding tropical forest.
- In Merida the city is trying to protect parrots. A few years ago, there were only 11 in the central park and now there are 50. They are asking people to not throw garbage on the ground because the parrots eat it and get sick or choke and die
- Getting excited when you meet someone from another place and you can tell them all the fun things to do in Merida
- A picnic by the ocean: beer, mango, chamoy and friends
- Talking to our servers or drivers: the best way to learn about the area
- Realizing that the drivers are actually very good, although it is usually a “hang on tight” situation
- Buying the most delicious treats from a town “famous” for its bread (it’s all about what the locals know!)
- Learning a few words in Mayan to speak to your server
- The thrill of jaywalking (running)—sometimes the only way to cross the street!
- Finding hot sauce to squirt on your theatre popcorn! So good!
- Seeing the neighbourhood ladies visiting out front
- Waking up to mariachis playing at midnight for a birthday surprise
- Buying tamales from street vendors
- Envying the laid-back manner of so many people. It’s that whole hot climate/cold climate thing, right?
It is nice to be home though, home to a familiar environment. Back to my toaster. (don’t ask). Rather than lush, tropical plants, I have snow-covered brown bushes and flowers I forget to cut back last autumn. I don’t crank up the air conditioner; I add slippers and turn on up the furnace. I don’t hear the many sounds of the grackle, I hear the chi chi chi of the chickadee, the caw of the crow and the blue jay squawk. My neighbours are quiet, ensconced in their warm homes, the only signs of life being the odd movement of a vehicle or a recently shovelled driveway. There are responsibilities to live up to, places to be, things to do. We are back to normal. Until next year. (And until next month when the snow melts, the temperatures stay above zero, the birds return and the neighbours will be outside.)
Muchas gracias a nuestros vecinos Víctor y Viviana, Víctor (jr) y Merly. Gracias por llevarnos a tantos lugares. Gracias por presentarnos diferentes comidas y diferentes maneras de hacer las cosas. Gracias por tener paciencia conmigo y con mi español. ¡Gracias por su amistad! Fue tan agradable abrir mis cortinas cada mañana y ver a Viviana en su frutería, ó a Víctor subirse a su motocicleta para ir al trabajo. Fue tan reconfortante saber que estaban allí para nosotros. Esperamos verlos, nuestra familia de Mérida, el próximo año y compartir más aventuras.
Wanderings Art 