Just ‘descansando’ (relaxing) a little bit this afternoon as I write… It’s the first really sunny hot afternoon we seem to have had in a while. Therefore, I’m making the most of it - sitting out on the small balcony next to my room, kind of wishing I’d chosen today rather than yesterday to stay at the school and go for a swim in their pool. Yesterday when I went in for a dip I shivered considerably and shared my swim with a whole host of insects – everything from a centipede to a hornet, with numerous varieties of flies and even a small frog! And, er, speaking of insects, I have a bit of a tale to tell…
Yesterday morning, as I was habitually eating breakfast and chatting to Socorro and the two builders working on her extension, she suddenly smiled a little wickedly and produced a small plastic bag full of red, crunchy, beetle-y looking things. She popped a couple into her broadly grinning mouth and asked me if I fancied a ‘chapuline’ (grasshopper)! I have read that these are a delicacy in Mexico (especially further south in Oaxaca where I’ll be staying in a couple of weeks), but I didn’t quite expect to be confronted by one with my morning coffee!
Now, usually I’ll give pretty much anything a try. However, I’ve got to say I can’t quite face insects, so I squirmed a bit and declined as politely as I could. By this point the two builders were munching away too though. “Go on, they’re delicious!” they exclaimed in Spanish, and I felt I faced a bit of a dilemma. Socorro is kind and I don’t think she’d be offended by me turning down her offer of a crispy toasted bug. However, I didn’t want to look like a wimp, or one of those travellers who gets over-squeamish about these kinds of things.
In the end I continued to demur, in spite of their insistence that I was missing out on a great taste sensation (one of the builders, in particular, was going into ecstasies telling me about chapuline ‘quesadillas’ – where they are served in tortillas with melted cheese!). Luckily I managed to make a bit of a joke of it, telling them that it was a little early in the day for me and that perhaps after several tequilas I’d give it a try! They seemed genuinely surprised that we didn’t eat grasshoppers in the UK, and were bemused when I explained that we tend to stamp on creepy crawlies and squash them when we see them rather than intentionally ingest them. As I walked to school I thought it over, though. Maybe if I could mentally think of a grasshopper as just being like a prawn or other crustacean I’d be able to give it a go. I’m not sure, though – it really doesn’t appeal.
My breakfast experience made for a good conversation starter in class that morning (Arturo thinks chapulines are great food – tasty, pure protein and apparently low in fat), as did my experience of the ongoing series of religious services in Socorro’s home (I sat through another one last night but think I can probably get away with politely excusing myself from any more). Arturo had quite a lot to say about the detrimental influence that he thinks Catholicism has on Mexican society, particularly in terms of presenting poverty as a blessed state, and disallowing contraception. I mentioned to him that I’d noticed the squashed empty carton of a pregnancy testing kit on the roadside walking into school that day (the Spanish term for pregnant is ‘embarazada’ – which, with its slightly shameful connotations, is something I don’t care for very much) and that this had made me wonder if some ‘chica’ had got herself in trouble. He said he wouldn’t be surprised – girls here tend to marry very young, and I get the impression that having children outside marriage is heavily frowned upon. However, being a single mother doesn’t seem to be uncommon - and many couples separate but do not divorce for financial, religious and practical reasons. This is the case with both Socorro and her daughter Liliana (Dariana’s mother) – and both women have been happy to talk to me quite candidly about how this was the best solution for them when their ‘no good men’ started dallying with other women and mistreating them.
Although it’s obviously a bit of an unfortunate situation (I don’t think it can ever be easy bringing up children alone), it’s hearing conversations like this that makes me so glad I’m doing a home-stay here in Mexico. I hear about all the weighty social issues in class and then I come back to the casa and learn about how they really relate to an everyday family. Another example would be the ongoing teacher’s strike here in Morelos (about which I witnessed a pretty ardent protest in Cuernevaca on Sunday). Both Liliana and her new partner (who also has a son) have been talking about how hard it is now sending their children for private tuition and making alternative childcare arrangements while they work. I must confess, I haven’t quite got to grips with why the teachers are striking, but it is evidently a pretty big deal.
Conversations like this are giving me confidence that my Spanish is improving, as I can get by with a bit of improvisation and with the ‘crutch’ of my dictionary. The grammar I’m learning at school is also registering itself in my brain slowly, although it is notoriously tricky (we’re doing ‘would have’, ‘should have’, ‘could have’ at the moment – which makes me think of that slightly annoying song ‘Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda’, which is probably not helping me much!). On the whole, I find if I think about it too much, I do feel a bit terrified. A new language can seem like an entire galaxy and, with Spanish, I reckon I’ve only really familiarised myself with my street and my immediate neighbourhood at this point, with whole counties, nations and continents still lying before me. I think not thinking about it might be the key, though, as it was when I learned to ride a bike or, indeed when I learned to speak English myself. I have no real memory of how either of those things happened. They just did - from letting go and getting up time and time again, and just opening my mouth to communicate. Socorro has assured me that I’ll get better if I just keep ‘hablando’ (talking), telling me in Spanish, “my family and I don’t have any formal knowledge of grammar – we just speak and, if you do too, you’ll get by”. This is heartening, and I will try to hold on to it. At least last night’s service taught me some useful new vocab and phrases - ‘sinner’, ‘fruit of thy womb’, and ‘deliverance’. Maybe a swift conversion to Catholicism and a spell as a Latin American nun is the way to go…
|  | 
|
