Productivity, Finally!

This week the rain returned, I told someone that they would speak English better without chickens, I fell in love with two new songs, I made a good joke in Spanish, and I actually had to use my alarm to make sure I started some long days on time.  A month after I hit the “one year left in my service” mark, things have ramped up significantly.  That’s good news for a planner like me who wants to be busy and productive – and have a real reason to create spreadsheets.

My sister did the verbal equivalent of an eye-roll on the phone last week when I told her that I had a spreadsheet for tracking what I purchased in Mexico for future birthday and Christmas gifts for people back home.  To be honest, I track everything that I can here: gifts purchased for others, books read, vacation days used and planned, US visitors, travel ideas, etc.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I love a good spreadsheet.  Although I can tell you about different things I’ve done here that have added value, in general, feelings of competency haven’t been easy to come by as a volunteer.  My personal spreadsheets have helped supplant those feelings when they’ve been lacking in the professional realm.

Fairy tale view in the mountains, just before it started pouring rain. 

The rain has arrived and things are bursting with color (and tropical vibes). 

My coworker's dog, who joined us for a recent meeting in the mountains. 

Another round of rain on the way. 

We have this cycle of "vulnerability and adjustment" at Peace Corps that documents when volunteers typically experience challenges (dips) and periods of contentment (highs).  I'm now entering month 17, and I can confirm this chart has been fairly accurate for me.  I tried tracking my mental health on a scale of 1-5 my first few months at site, but it was too difficult to distill a week down to just one number.  I discovered that writing a weekly blog post was a much more effective way for me to process my current state of mental health (and there are some posts I wrote that will never get published but that helped get me through a dip).

As you can see above, I'm predicted to have nothing but smooth sailing from here on out. Well, until it's time to start preparing to reintegrate into US culture.

There are tons of benefits associated with being a volunteer, and there are just as many challenges.  For someone like me who has been working in the professional realm for a long time, the biggest challenge has been figuring out how to adapt to a new work culture.  Specifically, how to move from a culture that values efficiency and strategic planning above all else to one that primarily values relationships and grants the time needed to build and maintain to those relationships.  In the US, I would feel a little guilty talking to a coworker for 15 minutes about non-work related stuff, outside of our lunch break, or spending 3 hours of a 3.5 hour meeting eating and chatting.  Here, it would be rude not to do those things – and it’s actually really nice.

We recently had an office retreat to review our work plan for the next year.  We don’t normally have staff meetings in my office, so during our retreat I asked if we could have a quick 5-minute information sharing session once every 1-2 weeks.  It’s not common here, but it’s something that I really needed, so I finally asked for it.  My team said sure, but let’s do it while we’re having breakfast or lunch together.  So one morning this week, we spent an hour and a half eating breakfast together, talking about life and making jokes, and we each talked about what we were working on and what we needed from each other.  It was awesome! 

My coworker's son, who also joined us for a meeting out in the mountains. 

Lovely old hacienda where we recently had a meeting. 

So many colors. 

The week after our retreat, we had a site visit with the environmental program manager from Peace Corps Mexico.  He told my office that a) the second year is when volunteers are typically the most productive, and b) I should create a clear work plan for the next 8 months to clearly identify what goals needed to be met and who in the office I would need assistance from before I start to close out my service.  That lit a fire in all of us and I’m happy to report that I now have specific things to work on every day, I have an active “to-do” list, and I am consistently starting to feel busy and productive.  That’s partly due to the renewed focus on my work plan and partly due to the fact that our project has progressed to a point where there are more opportunities for concrete activities.

For example, this week I joined a coworker for a tourism committee meeting in a remote mountain town to pitch a pilot project to reduce the use of disposable products in their restaurants.  We spent a little over two hours driving there, socialized and ate carne asada, warm tortillas and fresh cheese for about 2 hours, talked about the project for 30 minutes, and then headed out to explore potential tourism sites to promote.  That’s when it started pouring rain and everyone was immediately soaked.  I was the only person with an umbrella and thus, the only person in my truck who didn’t need to change clothes before making the drive home.  The next day we all gathered under the patio outside our office to watch a torrential downpour that was so loud that you had to shout to hear each other.  I love that about Mexico - it's always appropriate to take a break and enjoy the little things. 

Sink - with broom - in the hacienda.  

Front porch on an old hacienda.

Lovely old light fixture.

Front gate view.

Dining room view.

It’s an interesting phenomenon – after hearing repeatedly that year 2 is where you make the most impact, I can feel that it’s true.  I can finally see where my skills and interests really overlap with our project goals and what value I can add.  I can say that I’m finally starting to appreciate and adapt to those different office norms.

Long story short: if you are a volunteer who hasn’t started year 2 yet, and you’re getting frustrated, hang in there!  And if you’re coming to Mexico anytime soon, bring all of your rain gear with you.  And if you want to listen to some really great songs, check out these two: Para Siempre and La Luna.  

Take a DIVE

I recently received a few magazines from the US, which was the best gift ever!  Until I opened up the issue of Backpacker magazine.  I had this sharp pain in my chest as I longed to be out on a trail surrounded by green trees and mountains.  I am a sucker for natural beauty, and few things make me happier than being on a lush trail with mountain vistas.  The last time I had a proper forest hike was in the fall of 2015 so its been way too long for such a great divide. 

My favorite hiking spot for the last 8 years. How I miss thee! 

I try to "hike" here too, but it's not quite the same.  It's still beautiful, but blazing hot and dry, with no snow.

Beauty is something I look for everyday here in Mexico.  Beauty and joy, because the more you look for them, the more you'll find them (and I need as much as I can get).  Physical beauty is a theme that comes up frequently here, and in general men don't hesitate to turn their heads to admire a beautiful woman walking down the street.  That can be a little jarring when you're in the middle of a conversation and the man you're talking to turns his whole body for a good view of the woman walking by, and you have to pause what you're saying for a few seconds.  It can also be jarring to hear people openly refer to someone as fat and joke about it.  

The other day I was at lunch with a group of men and one other woman.  One guy was looking at his phone and started laughing and sharing a picture of a woman they knew from the past who had apparently put on weight.  I saw the picture and was perplexed as to why they should give this woman such a hard time.  She wasn’t rail thin but she wasn’t obese and she was attractive.  There were comments about “that’s what happens when a woman eats too many tamales” and jokes about what a pity her current appearance was.  In the next breath, the guy next to me offered me his french fries that he didn’t want.  I was like “um, no thanks."  I’m already bigger than the girl in the picture, so I didn’t need to add any fry fuel to that fire.

 Finding beauty in a building.  

 There's always beauty in art.

Sometimes people create their own beauty with window art. 

In Peace Corps training, we learn all about the DIVE approach (describe, interpret, verify, evaluate).  The idea is that you shouldn’t rush to judgement about words, actions or situations you encounter.  That you need to try to identify if there’s something going on under the surface that could be impacting how someone else is behaving or how you are reacting, or some other meaning behind their words.  The concept is clear, but it takes a lot of work to put this into practice.  I’ve found that when my feelings are hurt by something someone says or does here, it’s much easier to just wallow in it for a bit.  Maybe that’s human nature or just the impact of being in a foreign culture and taking things with more significance than you would back home.

I have definitely made assumptions here and been offended, only to understand later that what I interpreted wasn't correct.  I will (perhaps begrudgingly) say that it is worth putting forth the effort to determine if you really encountered a bad apple or if there's something more to consider (a different cultural context, a misunderstanding, a history with a subject that makes you react to it strongly, etc.).  It takes work, but why be offended if you don’t have to be?  

Let me give you some examples of what I’ve heard from people here that I would describe as family and friends (i.e. people that I like/love and who like/love me back) that could have the power to offend.  

• When I was living with my first host family, I made a comment about how it took me longer to walk places because my legs were so short.  My host mom said "oh yeah, you have fat legs.  You need to lose weight."
• One day I went out for a long walk – my nightly constitution if you will – and I ran into one of my English students on the way home.  He asked what I was doing and then gave me an unsolicited lecture on how it was good that I was walking because that would help me lose weight.  And that I needed to eat only fruits and vegetables – in small quantities. 
• The other day I was paying my rent, and my landlady said “my daughter uses a soap on her face that really helped clear up her skin.  It’s only 40 pesos so I can get that for you and you can pay me back. It will really help your skin.” Note that the only thing we were talking about before this exchange was me paying my rent.
• When I was living with my second host family, I said I was going on a walk for about 20 minutes and they said “Oh my, that’s too far for you. Are you sure you’ll make it?”
• My favorite shopkeeper told me that I looked like I had lost weight and that I just needed to stop eating to loose more.  Then I would have more options for shirts to purchase. 
• One of my coworkers came in and we exchanged greetings and he said “you were really tired yesterday.”  Not really a question, just a statement.  I wasn't tired that day - maybe just a little quiet. 
• People comment all the time on the fact that I am wearing sandals (Birkenstocks, Tevas, etc.).  They’ll ask me at 7 PM at night “Are you going to the beach or something?” and when I say no, they’ll say “Oh, well…. you’re wearing sandals.”  Or they’ll just say “I see you’re wearing sandals again.”

Maybe I could find some more acceptable shoes here.

Soooo many churches, with so much beauty.

Totally unrelated, but if you look closely, you can see a batman symbol on top of the blue house. 

It’s hard not to be offended or hurt when someone makes comments about your weight, your skin or your perceived lack of physical abilities.  It’s confusing when people talk about your shoes all the time without offering a compliment (hey man, I got the feminine Birkenstocks - these are uber cool in my crowd).  It’s frustrating when people make assumptions that you are tired or in a bad mood just because you’re quiet.  As volunteers, we are encouraged to use DIVE every day, but I'm not sure our counterparts or communities receive information on that front to help them interpret our behaviors and actions.  And people really think I'm weird when I tell them to "take a DIVE" in our mountain town ;)

I have been here for more than a year, so my assumption is that people think I’m all good.  I can communicate with them, I have housing, and I’m getting integrated.  I’m not sure they realize that more time doesn’t make everything easier for me.  It makes some things A LOT easier, but other things are more difficult with more time.  I’m way more comfortable now talking to people, traveling, shopping, etc. than I was a year ago.  However, those cultural differences that butt heads with your norms and values are harder to ignore the more time you spend with them.  

These are my favorite trees and so beautiful. 

Art on the coast - I always love some artistic beauty. 

Art in a Querétaro park.  Even weird, dark art can be beautiful.

When I encounter something that has the power to offend, I try to implement the DIVE approach and clarify my understanding of the situation, but as a non-confrontational person operating in a second language, it's difficult.  I talk with other volunteers to get perspective and try to remember that I'm operating in a different culture with different norms.  Just because something is different and uncomfortable, that doesn't make it bad (it just makes it weird and uncomfortable).  And I keep looking for that beauty, wherever I can find it.

Traveling with my dad

My dad and I recently spent 12 full days together on a road trip across western Mexico.  The last time we spent that much time together, just the two of us, was probably the summer after I graduated from high school.  I’m happy to report that a) my dad loved Mexico, and b) we did not kill each other.  In fact, we had a really great time!  I asked my dad what his favorite things were about Mexico and he said the people, who were so incredibly kind, and the food, which was so incredibly delicious.  Here’s a snapshot of the highlights from our cross-country trip.

We really worked on mastering the art of the selfie during this trip. And everyone told us they could tell that we were obviously related.  

A very nice women in San Miguel offered to take our picture for one non-selfie.

Querétaro

My dad arrived to Querétaro to find me in the midst of my first ever bout of food poisoning in Mexico.  The next morning, he woke up feeling super congested, so we headed out to a local pharmacy to get him some meds.  They had a doctor on site doing free consultations – in English! – so my dad got cures for what ailed him.  

I was thrilled to introduce my dad to my host mom Lilia!  She is the most loving, kind-hearted woman and my dad was so very appreciative for the hospitality and love I received from her family during my stay.  Her husband was unfortunately away, but we got to briefly meet her son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter before heading off to explore parks, museums and plazas in the city.  At one park, three teenage girls approached us and asked if we were tourists. I said yes, and they explained that they had a homework assignment to create brochures about a local festival and the park we were visiting, to share those brochures with tourists, and to then take a photo to document the moment.  My dad loved it and the girls were very grateful to have our help completing their assignment.

With my beloved (and tiny!) host mom, Lilia. 

 Helping some students with their homework. 

Doctor's visit for my dad - with lots of rubber duckies. 

My dad got to witness one of the uber popular clown shows in the street. 

Checking out Los Arcos with Natalie, Brennen and my dad. 

I wasn’t able to eat for the first four days of his visit, but we still met up with some other volunteers for dinner and drinks and my dad got to partake in all the fun.  My friend Natalie knew just the candy store where he could find tamarind and chili flavored treats for my stepmom, and Timoteo immediately helped him expand his Spanish vocabulary.  I woke up that Sunday with a cold, so off we headed to the pharmacy yet again.

San Miguel de Allende

Chances are, you know someone who lives in San Miguel de Allende who is from the US or from Canada, as the town is essentially overrun by extranjeros.  It’s a beautiful city with lots of good restaurants and mercado, beautiful buildings, and several lovely churches and plazas.  I took my dad to explore El Charco del Ingenio, where I returned from the bathroom to find him surrounded by a large group of students.  I was perplexed as to what was going on, especially when he grabbed my arm and said “Thank god you’re here! They’re talking to me in Spanish!”  

Turns out, we had run into the friendliest, most inquisitive group of students who were on a field trip to the park.  They asked us lots of questions and we talked in Spanish and English for about half an hour.  At the end of the visit, they asked if they could be Facebook friends with us, and posed for group photos.  I sadly still couldn’t eat in San Miguel, but I did power up to visit two rooftop restaurants with my dad, including the restaurant at the top of the famous Rosewood hotel, which is definitely worth a visit. 

 My dad with his new best friends. 

My dad on the trail. 

View from the Rosewood. 

View in the mercado. 

Guanajuato

This is one of my favorite places in Mexico and it took the top prize for my dad as well. I found an Airbnb at the end of a short, steep walk up from el centro with a rooftop deck that overlooked the city.  Guanajuato is bursting with color and art, and watching the sunset from a roof is the perfect way to end your day.  I was finally able to eat and enjoyed the best bagel I have had in Mexico (i.e. it was toasted – that’s all it takes to be the best here) before we set off to explore the mercados, Diego Rivera museum, mummy museum and plazas.  

We ran into a religious parade and a thunderstorm, my dad got to experience killing a cockroach, and he got to hear the nightly serenade of barking dogs and crowing roosters.  We also got to visit yet another pharmacy for me to try some new medicines for my worsening cold, and for my dad to get an inhaler and decongestion meds for his crud.  Sleep was hard to come by with both of us hacking all night, but Guanajuato was amazing and should be at the top of your list of places to visit.  

Afternoon parade.

 Overlooking the city before the rain. PS: my dad bought that hat in Querétaro and really, really loves it.

My favorite art shop in town. 

My dad scored an insane amount of points with the game "slug bug" here in Mexico. 

Sunset on the rooftop of our apartment. 

Guadalajara

After a four-hour bus ride, we arrived in the sprawling metropolis of Guadalajara where our cab driver tried very, very hard to get my dad to move to Mexico.  He asked why my stepmom wasn’t with us, taking care of my dad and getting him water (or whatever) he needed, when he needed it.  I tried to explain that in the US culture, things are a little different, but he strongly encouraged my dad to come here and find a new wife, with an offer of free cab rides.  My dad said he was too old for that and I believe the drivers exact words were “that doesn’t matter; you’re not so ugly – we can find you a wife.” 

With my dad’s marriage still intact, we headed out to explore the historic center of Guadalajara and the upscale community of Tlaquepaque.  This area in Jalisco is brimming with art and tequila, and I found lots of great little gifts for family and friends.  I also found the most amazing Airbnb ever which had a city view, big balcony, lovely decorations and a washer and dryer.  We holed up in the peacefulness of that luxurious apartment both nights, washing our clothes and welcoming a response volunteer for a visit as I had carried a package for him from the Querétaro office.

Historic Guadalajara. 

Art in Tlaquepaque

 King Bart. 

Lovely art in a kiosk. 

Colorful Tlaquepaque. 

Our lovely apartment with the best feature of all - a washing machine.

El Campo & Puerto Vallarta

We left Guadalajara on a 6:30 AM bus to my site, and my dad marveled at how many times we stopped on the side of the road to pick people up and drop them off over the course of 5 hours.  We came home to a broken flush valve on my toilet, and all I could think was "thank god my dad is here to fix this for me."  It was really great to show my dad my site and for him to meet my host family, my coworkers and my English class students.  After hearing about the tasty taco stand down the road for months, my dad finally ate tacos with me and my students and agreed that they were worth the wait.  On Sunday night, we went to the town plaza to listen to music and hit up the social event of the week.  Unfortunately, there were two bands playing at once: one band in the main kiosk with an accordion, and another band – with a tuba – playing directly below them.  On the bright side, I found a guy selling chocolate-filled churros which were so good I didn’t even care that I oozed chocolate all over my shirt.

Resting on the hike to the overlook for my town. 

Shrine along our hike. 

 Selfie at the local ruins. 

Eating tacos with some of my English class students. 

After two days of mellowness, we headed out for one day in Puerto Vallarta where we soaked in the hotel pool, lounged in the shade and had lunch and dinner on the beach.  It was super humid in Puerto Vallarta, so although my dad was sad to say goodbye to me, he was very happy to make it to the airport AC!  We were both sick the entire trip, but still managed to log over 73 miles of walking on his phone health app, and to find beauty and joy in every day.   

One last selfie at the ocean. 

Super cool mosaic. 

Art at our hotel. 

Love for the ocean. 

Seahorse at sunset. 

It was a little sad to leave the US after my Christmas visit, but it was way harder having my dad leave me here.  After 2.5 weeks sharing a hotel or house with volunteers and my dad, it was a lonely first night back in my apartment.  Mexico has definitely shined the light on the importance of family and lit a fire in me to be closer to them.  I've got less than a year to go, and that's gonna fly by, so if you've been thinking about Mexico, drop me a line!  Maybe you don’t speak Spanish, maybe you (or I) will be sick your entire visit, and maybe we'll only be able to find un-toasted bagels, but as you can see in the photos above, a good time is guaranteed. :)

PS. My dad thought my apartment here was bigger and nicer than all of my US apartments, except my last Queen Anne apartment, so come on down for some fancy accommodations!