An Anthropological History of Puebla

Okay, I’m not really going to give you an anthropological history of Puebla.
I, however, did receive one today.

If you remember, I spend two hours each afternoon with my guia. We can go anywhere we want, and talk about whatever. My guia this week is David, who is studying anthropology at the university here – urban anthropology to be specific. Today, rather than walk around, I asked David to tell me about Puebla.

He gave me a complete, albeit brief, history of the state and the city. Keep in mind, this is all in Spanish. Obviously my Spanish skills have improved, but I was also able to understand because David is very good at finding other ways to explain words I don’t know.

At one point a stranger (and by stranger I mean two things: 1- someone neither of us knew, 2- someone more strange than me or David) joined our conversation. He spoke very rapidly, apparently assuming that I am fluent in Spanish, which I am not.

I did however catch parts of his talk. He moved very quickly from Indians in America scalping homesteaders, to atomic bombs in New York, and Los Angeles. I’m a little fuzzy about the connection between the two.

David, however, was very coherent. He actually made me feel a little stupid. If he had asked me for a history of the US, I know for a fact that I could not have given as complete a history.

“Well, back about 200 years ago, some people were mad at England, they sailed across the ocean and landed in Boston, home of the Red Sox, where they eventually opened up coffee shops – called Starbucks – that have spread across the entire world. That’s really about it. Oh, and once a year we shoot off fireworks to celebrate the day all the tea was thrown overboard (hence, Starbucks), and Benjamin Franklin was electrocuted by a lightning storm.”

I’m amazed that I was able to not only understand, but also ask questions and converse with him. I have discovered that I understand a lot more than I can speak. My recall of vocabulary is very limited; I have a hard time finding the right word. My comprehension is much better. Even if I don’t understand all the words, I’m able to grasp the meaning.

The most interesting part of the afternoon came right at the very end of the afternoon, after we had stopped at the local OXXO (convenience store) to pick up some drinks. I bought the drinks because I found out that David gets paid 40 pesos for the two hours we spend together. At the current exchange rate that is about $3.65. But I digress …

The most interesting part of the afternoon came right at the very end of the afternoon. A 17th century Spanish writer said,

Yo no leo para saber mas.
Yo leo para ignorar menos.

I don’t read to know more.
I read to ignore less.

I think I might have found my motto, my reason for coming here to Puebla in the first place.

I’m not learning Spanish to know more.
I’m learning Spanish to ignore less.
I’m learning Spanish so I don’t ignore the Latino students and families in my school.
I’m learning Spanish so I don’t ignore their culture, their traditions, their history, their language.
I don’t want to ignore their experience.

After I made the decision to stay only four weeks instead of eight (which I’m sure is the right decision because I have felt so relaxed since I decided), I discovered what I think is the reason I did not want to stay eight weeks.

I miss American food, but that is not the main reason.
I miss my house and my bed, but that’s not it either.
I miss my car and my independence – nope, not it either.
I miss my native language, but that’s not it because I really do enjoy Spanish.

I miss small town America. Going from Twin Falls & Wendell to a city of 3-5 million people has been the hardest change.

This implies that I might be feeling the same way had I attended a Spanish immersion program in New York, or Los Angeles, or Chicago, or Dallas.

I miss being able to drive 20 minutes to find a place where there are no buildings. Here in Puebla, I would have to drive for several hours to get out of the city.

I miss seeing green lawns, and big trees, and new flowers. That has been the biggest change, the hardest change. When I come back to Idaho, to my place, I will view things much differently.

Yo no leo para saber mas.
Yo leo para ignorar menos.

I hope I never ignore something or someone simply because I’m unwilling to change.