The Trek, Language Bump and Initial Observations

We left Baton Rouge at 5, got to Huston at 6, left for Veracruz at 9, got there at 11 and onto the bus to bring us to Cordoba. Only one bag of the entire group was lost to the ravages of the mysterious airport luggage sorting system’s sacrificial rite. Finally, we made it to the hotel a little after 1 and all promptly passed out in our assigned rooms for the night. Except, of course, Taylor (my roommate for the night) and I. There was a partially clothed man in our bed. Slight mix up at the desk… had to be reassigned quickly. Made for a good laugh.
The next morning, after all forcing ourselves to leave the sweet embrace of much needed sleep, we convened in the lobby for a breakfast meeting with Fondo Cordoba summarizing the 2 weeks ahead and introducing us to the family’s we will be staying with. Or at least that’s what I was able to gather with my less than limited grasp of Spanish. The families are the elite of Cordoba; drawing a comparison between them and those people we’ll be working with should prove quite interesting. Apparently, more families than needed signed up to host and nearly everyone was placed into households alone. This works, *if* you know the language well enough.
And that’s one big *if* I just don’t fit into. No matter… I’m quick enough on my feet and half the point of this trip is to be immersed in Spanish. I just wish I had a list of pronouns… and some basic vocabulary. The family I’m with seems nice so far. I’ve met the mother (Maru) and her mother who helps cook meals daily from the sounds of it. Her husband is the brother of the father of the family Chustz is staying with. They have 3 kids. Fernanda (16 and currently in Quebec), Rebeka (12) and Ernesto (10). The fact that they have a nearly live in maid feels odd… I’m not used to such a luxury since I’ve always been more accustomed to doing things myself when they need to be done. A Pom and Jack Russell are also part of the mix. The Pom is sweet as can be while the Jack Russell is mischievous… the rascal stole a bag of skittles from my laptop case.
We ate lunch as a family. They picked on me a little for being a vegetarian, at first thinking it was impossibility. But it was all in the friendly joking manner, much like my biological family does. Everything was tasty… the spaghetti, the bread, the broccoli and abas (wonderful lima-bean-esque vegetables with six times the flavor and about the size of a quarter). I got to try some local cheeses, they were more than amazing. If it weren’t against customs regulations to bring agricultural products into the country (or if I were a far more daring and less law abiding citizen) I would find a block or two to come home with me. All closed up with chilled mangos in a strawberry tasting sauce… was most delightful. Rebeka’s friend’s family owns a ranch that conveniently has mango trees which are conveniently in season. There’s a large crate of them in the kitchen.
I know all this talk of food may make me seem obsessed with it before but the meal gave me an opportunity to view into the family dynamic. The layout of the table is there, formal place settings. However, the traditional tight observance of fork order was not. The father, obviously, sat at the head of the table. When each new dish was brought out the serving order was as follows: guest then father then grandmother then mother then children. I found it interesting how the hierarchy many people consider retired was openly expressing itself. I’ve never seen such an order before. Generally speaking, within my family and the other families I’ve encountered in mealtime settings, self service or a free-for-all... not that they don’t care enough to dish out the meal in a preordained fashion, I think We’ll see if this is just opening day extra hospitality or a daily occurrence. I think it might be the latter.
I got the inquisition generally associated with meeting someone new in half Spanish, half English (Rebeka, Ernesto and their father all speak it very well). What am I studying, do I have a boyfriend, where am I from, where do I go to school, do we really have 8 cats, what do my parents do, what was my sister like… As it went on, I managed to pick up a few new words, which was nice.
After lunch, I got to explain the mysterious gifts from of a pair of boys from Baton Rouge they hosted as part of a football exchange program earlier this year. Cajun spice sprinklers (aka Tony’s) are indeed a condiment to be used with anything. Gumbo mix, however, is not. And etoffee is served hot and with rice, not fresh out the can.
Rebeka and Ernesto play tennis and since today was “no work, go get acclimated to your surroundings” day, I got to see them play for a little.
We had dinner with the president (mayor) of Cordoba and members of Fondo. Once again the food and people were wonderful.

But tomorrow the adventure really begins: we start work.

I was thinking about what has motivated me to support this project since its inception. The best answer I could give myself is my deep seated idealism. I’ve always wanted to use what skills I have to help those who need and want to learn from them. On top of that, I believe all people should have an equal chance to connect to the world around them. Not only will it allow them to intake good ideas and learn in ways and by means never before imagined, but such a connection will allow them to take part in the increasingly close global community. In other words, I believe in making globalization more *global*lization and less Americanization. I love my native culture; however, I want to learn more about how the rest of the world lives its life before it gets swallows up. And as I see it, we have the equipment and the knowledge and they have the need and the will to learn. Thus, there is no reason why we shouldn’t be willing to help.

As far as my Spanish learning saga is going, Chustz is giving me a crash course as we go along, I’ve compiled a list of words I know and need to know, and just from listening there are several questions and basic phrases I’ve picked up along the way and can answer to in pitiful Spanish or English.

And now, I’m exhausted.


Extra: Someone told me there was a surplus of old VW Bugs driving around down here… I’ve decided as a side note to check this out and make daily notes:
Old Bug count for the day: 58