An article I read today, by Linda Ellerbee, got me thinking about my time in Mexico thus far. After reading it, I quickly realised that all the concerns I had before crossing the border, bred by the enormous amount of scaremongering that goes on the media abroad (by that I mean, Europe and the US), had vanished almost by the end of my first day in the country. The drug war, illegal immigration and collateral damages, pick-pocketing, rapes, bribing, crazy drivers and whatnot –oh, and since last week also the swine flu, or is it the Mexican flu?, sorry I think the term I'm looking for is Class A N1H1– are images that instinctively pop up in the mind of all those who haven't set foot in this country yet. In a sense, it's only natural if that's all people hear about Mexico in the media.
These things are a reality, they do happen in Mexico, but the sad thing is that they are becoming the definition of Mexico. Mexico has a lot of problems at the moment, especially all along the northern border with the USA. Thousands of people are losing their lives be it because they are trying to cross the border into the US in search of a better life, or because they are involved in the drugs trade in some shape or form. It would be wrong to belittle this, but the reality is that these problems are highly localised. Mexico is a very big country. (For the Irish out there: it's like when people used to think that the whole of Ireland was an IRA killing field.) During my first three weeks here –yes, three weeks might not be enough to make a statement, however– I haven't felt in danger once.
Having said that, this shouldn't imply that my trip has been completely void of anything unpleasant. The act of traveling to a different culture will inevitably be accompanied by a time, and a process, of acclimatisation. Acclimatising to a different language, customs, and culture can sometimes be a difficult time, particularly if you are not into the type of tourism that tries to smooth out differences between cultures so that the tourist feels more at home. What follows is a little description that illustrates an area where I have found it hard to acclimatise.
During my last two weeks in Tecapán (the little fishing village near Escuinapa, Sinaloa, we are staying in), I have experienced the inevitable cultural shock that comes from different gender dynamics. Here, and I will limit my analisys to the village of Teacapán for fear of generalising, I feel very conscious of what I am: a woman. Men and women move in separate public spheres. Women are very often seen outside their homes cleaning, burning rubbish, keeping an eye on the children, or just chatting with the next door neighbour. They also contribute to the family income: they run small businesses from their homes, they are the faces behind the shop counters, and many work in the local restaurants. Men are mainly fishermen, farmers, or construction workers, but they also hang out a lot together. Whereas women gather outside their homes, men are the ones that congregate in public spaces. Be it at the port, the local plaza, in restaurants: men hang out. If I cycle into town I am guaranteed to pass a dozen or more pickup trucks full of lads parading themselves through town. You will never see girls mixing with these guys.
My uneasiness with the whole thing comes from the fact that, unless I am cycling with my boyfriend, I can guarantee that I will be shouted, whistled, and honked at by every single truck that passes me by, I will be stared at like a bad smell if I cycle down the port road. Every time I've gone to the beach for a swim on my own I have been shouted at by men passing by in boats. The cherry on top of the cake came yesterday when I went down to the beach for a quick dip. About fifteen lads in a boat got out of their way to sail down to the very shore, where I was getting out of the water and quickly wrapping my towel around me, shouting names (and asking me to go for a ride with them) as they unleashed their male bravado on me. Although I feel really intimidated by the whole thing, I don't believe that it is meant with harmful intentions.
As an outsider to this town, the only places I can really access are the public ones. It would take me time (which I don't have) to access the private sphere of this town, and consequently to be in a place where I would feel comfortable, amongst the women. Even though I understand that I am not at risk, it doesn't make me feel less uncomfortable about cycling into town, or going to the beach, on my own... but at the same time, I am not liking the idea of having to wait around for my boyfriend anytime I want to do something in the "public sphere". I understand that this is a clash of cultural dynamics, nevertheless sometimes I wish I was a boy :).
Time will tell if I will be affected by the "bigger" problems that affect Mexico. In the mean time, I will enjoy my own personal process of acclimatisation.
