Would you like some Zapatos with your Zapatistas?
Our last few days were spent in Tulum, Mexico, a once important Mayan trading port and currently a huge hit with the tourists. In the late 19th century to early 20th century, Tulum served as the symbolic center of the Mayan rebellion (War of the Castes) before Quintana Roo accepted Mexican rule. The town itself is ordinary — touts try and convince you to eat at their restaurants, taxi drivers honk at you, and children practice soccer after school, and men with large loud speakers drive around in pick-up trucks listing the many varieties of shoes they have for sale. “Tenemos zapatos para trabajar, tenemos zapatos para los ninos, tenemos zapatos para la escuela, tenemos…” At first, hearing only the Zapa… in the amplified voice, I assumed this was a run-of-the-mill political agitator, going on about the Zapatistas. My Spanish ear has become more sensitive in the last two days.
So far, staying at hostels has given us nearly unfettered contact with European travellers. We have yet to encounter any Americans, although we came close today, when we met two Canadians from Alberta. Sarah thinks they’re lying about their nationality so people will think they’re smart. She wants us to start lying about where we’re from, but we stupid Americans don’t know enough about Canadian geography to pick a hometown. Shoot.
Speaking of stupid Americans, we ran into hordes of them at the seaside Mayan ruins of Tulum. After spending time with Europeans, it became flagrantly obvious why American have earned their poor global reputation. For one, after a week of feeling totally obese next to svelte Swiss women, we suddenly felt like the belles of the Mayan ball next to the American tour groups. For two… well, there’s really only one. I’m sure we’ll be writing more about our conflicted national identities as the trip goes on. Maybe we’ll even talk to a few actual American travellers. For now, we’re leaving in five minutes to catch a 12-hour bus to Palenque. From there… the journey continues.
-Megan (Sarah came up with the idea to talk about Americans, but the zapato guy was all me)
Tags: American Identity, Central America, Mexico, North America, Ruins, Travel, Tulum
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Nice to hear from you. Just say you are from Vancover. Its enough like Seattle that you won’t really being lying, you’ve been there many times and can talk about Stanley Park like its Rogers Park, and besides all of that, you were conceived in Vancover. I say thats enough to consider yourself Canadian! Hope the bus ride to Palanque is not only tolerable, but memorable. Love to you both.
eeeewwwwwwwwwww……………………. I hate vancouver even more now…………..
We’re up in Syracuse and soaking in a little Central New York State (CNY as they call it) culture.
We stand out like Manhattan expats too.
Glad to hear your Spanish ear is improving. You don’t want to buy any bridges or swampland by mistake
It is rather humbling to find out that not all people envy or adore Americans. Especially when it’s you:) Be who you want to be. You are in a cultural yarn shop and weaving your own tapestry. So far, the colors and textures look pretty good:)
It’s not summery here any more. It’s barely autumn. A crisp 36 degrees this morning when I ran.
Have you heard the World Series is tied?
First: I´m with Austen. Ew.
Second: go Tigers! (hope it hasn´t finished…)
Third: Still no Americans.
Fourth: Thanks for keeping up all!
-Megan
Hmmm. Jennifer, I was going to suggest Vancouver too, because there’s one in Washington state, just over the border from Portland. As I well know because I was in Portland a few days ago, intending to go to Vancouver CANADA when I realized I didn’t have my passport. Because I am a BIG DORK. See earlier response. Anyway, it was totally INSULTING to realize that a small dreary suburb of Portland, where I was, was called Vancouver, like a kick in the head.
Meanwhile, Ausen and Megan, human conception is nothing to be grossed out about. How beautiful and lovely it is to imagine the moment when we came into being, how close we feel to nature, the rhythm of the seasons . . . for example, while I was in the redwood forests last week, how much more fully did I experience their towering majesty knowing, as I did, that my own beloved sister was conceived somewhere beneath their mighty boughs?
Answer: NOT MUCH. Ewwwww!
Ahh. I know the Vancouver you’re talking about. Not quite the international scene as the one up north, but then again, you don’t need a passport.
Megan, whats with the Go TIGERs ? This is the team that beat Oakland, the one that is playing a team close to your mothers heart. You need to rethink this. Find a motorcycle bar, watch some of the game, find your passion. Get out your binoculars and look for the cardinal. I’ll keep you posted.
You know me and the underdog. (I went to Garfield.) I can forgive a defeat. But unless the Yankees are playing, I think I´ll always root for the American League team.
-Megan