mi belly is so lleno with chile relleno

¡viva México! i can't express the overwhelming sense of calm and comfortability that swept me as i stepped out onto the streets of Mexico City and inhaled the soothing blend of roast chicken, churros, and car exhaust. mmmm. my fourth visit to this country is already showing signs of being the most interesting.

we arrived late Friday night and spent the weekend in the Centro Historico sightseeing, sleeping, eating, and adjusting. i felt right at home. luckily i haven't lost too much of my Spanish, so i was able to slide back into the Mexican rhythm without skipping a beat. i'm speaking metaphorically here - my salsa dancing is still quite spectacularly horrendous. i don't know the city too well, but it is familiar enough that i don't even really feel like i'm traveling anymore - it just feels like a second (or third, or fourth, or...) home.

on Sunday, our country assistant coordinator (it's a horrible title - essentially she takes care of all the logistics and still manages to be really easygoing and fun) guided us through some of the sights of the city. after a bus ride through the upscale ambassadorial neighborhood to see the contrast with the massive sprawling slums, we were dropped off on the beautiful boulevard Paseo de la Reforma and walked past the Bosque de Chapultepec park until we reached the Museo de Antropologia National (National Anthropology Museum, http://www.mna.inah.gob.mx/ ). it is a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon - the Paseo is closed off to traffic, so everyone walks, bikes, rollerblades, and skates through the streets. the Museum, if you have never heard of it, is one of the best in the world for its extensive collection of pre-Hispanic artefacts and information. if i weren't so jetlagged, i could easily spend weeks inside. as it was, i lasted about an hour and a half before metamorphosizing into a lizard on the sunny bench in the courtyard, napping the afternoon away.

our R&R time over, we jumped into the program again on Monday, starting with a relocation to the Colonia Santo Domingo (literally, colonia means "colony," but used to denote a neighborhood). the boys and i moved into a homestay with the Juarez family. we stayed with a very chill young man whose mother had begun hosting students over 10 years ago, so the family was well versed in hosting. over the course of the week we spend with them, i got on really well and was able to have some good conversations about family history, changes in the society, and current issues. of all the homestays thus far, this one was probably the easiest to live with, which is a real blessing because sometimes being a consciensous and courteous guest can be a lot of work and another source of fatigue on top of all the other stuff going on.

however, in spite of the long days of lectures and fervent activity, the week in Santo Domingo was one of the most rejuvenating of the year for me. the sense of community bond there is palpable; at almost every hour of the day there is a swath of activity in the streets: abuelitas (old women) selling pasteles (baked goods), taco stands, kids playing, teenagers listening to music or making out, men conversing in hardware stores, and everything in between. everyone seems to know everyone else, and in spite of the neighborhood's reputation for crime, i felt entirely safe because i knew that i was looked out for. fortunately, IHP has been coming here for a long time and has built strong relations with the community, so as students we are greeted not with suspicion but with warm hospitality. i tried to reciprocate their graciousness, but i quickly learned that it is more than i am capable of.

every morning on my way to school i would smile and offer a "buenos dias" to the three abuelitas selling bread on the sidewalk. they always responded with more kindheartedness and sincerity than i would ever expect from a stranger. this was just a taste of the deep qualities of this area and of the cultural distinctiveness of Mexico. i could not imagine living in a city in the US with such a strong sense of communal integrity, but perhaps that is just because i haven't lived in the right places yet.

still, the history of Santo Domingo is a unique one, and it certainly contributes to the community's overriding strength. less than forty years ago, all the land that is now a bustling, dense commercial/residential area was nothing but a stone-filled wasteland. it still carries the name Pedregal, which translates roughly to "rocky land". the neighborhood was born through an invasion, or occupation, at the hands of some 5000 poor families with few opportunities. working collectively, they literally seized the land overnight and began building all of their infrastructure from the ground up. although they had some disputes with the "original" owners of the land (i put "original" in quotations because, in a post-colonial nation like Mexico with a high indigneous population, this is a highly contentious issue), eventually the government granted them the land. now, largely as a result of their own efforts, the neighborhood has electricity, water, sewage, and transport systems, as well as schools, clinics, community cultural centers, and a vibrant local economy. there have been times of conflict and even violence in the history of Santo Domingo, but as i learned from my host family, the communal spirit is still felt by many people and it continues to impact the daily lives of everyone living there.

i wish i could do more justice to this story as it is something that is not found much in American history outside of perhaps the Great Depression era. i cannot overstress the impact that it had on my conception of a healthy community and the lessons that i have learned about collective action, grassroots organization, and social change.

changing gears to academics, we have been overrun with fascinating lectures and site visits. we've heard from government officials, social activists, NAFTA critics, and even a woman from USAID who spoke very bluntly about the pros and cons of the organization. at the end of the week, we visited an urban agriculture project in the heart of the city run by a small team of enthusiasted young women who are trying to insitute viable gardening systems as a way to decrease family dependency on expensive supermarkets (which are often supplied by large-scale US farms growing GM crops - but that's a topic for another discussion) and improve health. we also visited the home of Cesar Añorve, who is the Mexican king of dry toilet technologies, although you would never guess from his quiet, sweet demeanor.

soon we will be leaving for Oaxaca, and as much as i've enjoyed the big city, i cannot deny that my lungs are dying for some fresher atmospheres. now, at least, i have learned a little bit more about the city and what i want to explore in the future. and seeing as one can never "see it all," isn't that the real value of being a compulsive wanderer? feel free to disagree. i do.

hasta luego, middle earth!

the last two weeks in the big N-Zed have been... many things. frustrating, inspiring, anxious. we split into two smaller groups and i went with one and spent 5 days in Golden Bay, which is a super-cool small community on the northwest coast of the South Island that has a shown us some of the best examples of "localization" that we've seen so far. for the first time on the trip, we were in a town where, after 3 days of visiting different people and places, we could recognize faces in the town center and really get a feel for what a close-knit community feels like here. there are all kinds of different people, from permaculture agro-yuppies to f--k-the-system hippies to 4th-generation dairy farmers to wwoofers galore.

every day there was packed with activity, yet we didn't seem to get too exhausted because it was all so interesting. some of the highlights were definitely the Autumn Farm, a self-described "paradise on earth" that incorporates sustenance organic horticulture with a chic accomodation house catering to gay travelers. another was the Mussel Inn: organic micro-brewery, folk music locale, restaurant, and prime hang-out spot. also, we visited the sustenance garden of a guy named Pedro who grows everything without irrigation or tilling or outside fertilizers. we got to pick our own veggies for dinner: huge beets and carrots (see picture below) and potatoes and squashes and greens. they were delicious.

granted, not everyone in the area is a back-to-the-land type progressive, but there is a real sense of symbiosis and reciprocity. the strong tourism industry in the area doesn't hurt, either.

overall, the week was incredibly inspirational and optimistic. it really gave us all some palpable examples of creative people who have actively changed their lives and their communities for mutual benefit. one of the mottos of our group is lovingly acronymized as TATA - There Are Thousands of Alternatives - as opposed to the dominant rationale provided for mainstream trends in globalization, TINA, or There Is No Alternative. hope is a much-valued asset among us, as it is often hard to come by these days.

after Golden Bay, we reunited outside of Nelson for our retreat and country synthesis. there's been a lot of relaxing in the sun, drinking wine, and doing homework. and sleeping on the trampoline under the stars of the southern sky.

if you want to read more about New Zealand, i can toot my own horn and recommend that you visit www.ihp.edu, mouse over "News" and click on "Letters Home." for the first two countries, our student fellow wrote these letters, but for NZ i thought i'd try my hand out and give her a break from what can sometimes be a monotonous task. so check them out - they're probably more interesting than the narrative dribble to be found here.

oh yeah: in two days i leave for MEXICO!! ¡ay caramba! ¡dios mio! ¡andale, guero! ¡mis pantalones estan en fuego! ...[disclaimer: the words written here do not necessarily represent the SANE tanner welsh. please don't judge him too harshly]