Gas

It was mentioned here that the gas in Mexico is much cheaper than that
of the US. On the face of it, it's true, but in real terms I don't think
so. I'm no economist, but I tried my hand at proving my belief anyway.
This is what I got: An American dollar is $10.23 pesos, and a liter of
gas is $7.10 pesos. That comes to $2.64 dollars per gallon, or about 38%
less than the US national average of $4.24 dollars per gallon. But,
Americans earn more money than Mexicans. The per capita income of the US
is $45,800USD and Mexico's is $12,800. Americans make, on average per
person, about 72% more than Mexicans. This should surely change the
perspective of gas being 38% cheaper. To give a number to that
perspective, I just divided the cost per gallon by the GDP per capita
for both countries and compared them. The resulting number is 2.21. So,
I guess I can say that in real terms, the cost of gas in Mexico is more
than double the price of gas in the US. There are some problems with
this though. Mainly, that GDP per capita is a skewed number, especially
for Mexico, because of the very few people at the top that make a
retarded amount of money. Mexico also has a problem with, as Luke
mentioned, underreporting. I'd assume that records are particularly
inaccurate in regions with large numbers of indigenous peoples - many of
whom don't speak Spanish.

policiaca de la cuenca

My last post got me thinking about posting the nasty articles found in the news papers here, so, I did. You can find that blog here. I've cut out a bunch of articles with some really F'd up images and articles to be posted, and in so doing I've horrified the occasional student or staff member passing by or visiting me in my office. And to think this whole time I thought they were OK with what they read. I guess it's taking it a step too far when they're actually collected. The cleaning lady was especially interested in what I was doing with them. I told her that I was posting them on the Internet to show how crazy it is here. Naturally, she said that it's not a violent place. She then asked me if I knew the gardener that was recently killed. I guess natives defend their hometowns even in the face of their own unsolicited inconsistencies.

godfather style

check it out: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,376861,00.html

This sort of shit happens all the time actually. It comes up in the
local papers, but with pictures! This, however, is the first time I've
seen a mention of mafia shenanigans appear in English speaking news
media. I should scan and post the pictures of this guy who got his
hands, tongue, and cock n balls cut off by the local crime syndicate
here in Tuxtepec. It was the second I've seen where they left a note on
the body. The first one said something about how this is what happens to
you when you snitch. The latest one had something to do with how this is
what the do to their members who don't follow orders.

Summer bugs

    The summer months have brought summer bugs. Some of them are new and interesting to me, and others aren't; flies for example. The rivers of monster ants are straight out of National Geographic. They'll sometimes even envelop half the broad side of an our building, which brings a grounds keeper or three to exterminate them with a few cans of raid.  One bug has seemed to have quieted down a bit though: one that I've aptly named the barking cockroach. It looks like a cockroach with wings and hangs out in the trees, outdoing any of the most irritating loci with it's several minute long, piercing chirp.
    The most irritating bugs of all however are what they call palomitas de San Pedro (Saint Pedro's popcorn). Though I haven't had to deal with them as of late, they come - hatch, I suppose - once the rain has let up. Clouds of black winged termite-like insects will cover an area in the same fashion a smoke bomb covers a rioting group of Oaxacan teachers. They'll work their way into every nook and cranny of your clothing, hair, and shoelaces. They don't bite or sting, and in fact their wings pop off their bodies as easily as pedals from a daisy.
 

Thanks 'merika!

Hot damn! A $300 dollar “stimulus” check came for me today. Although I didn't make dollars, or even pay taxes in the US for that matter, I still qualify. I looked into it and it appears that a great many other American citizens living abroad have too received checks. What I don't get is this: If you're in a foreign country, which economy does the US government think is going to be stimulated; where are they going to spend that money? Duh!

"DOH!" and then "WHEW!"

So, I got a call from the human resources boss the other day informing me that my visa had lapsed as of this March. I played dumb. At their request I paid them a visit the following day with all my documentation. She said that I needed to take a trip down to Oaxaca City to sort this out. Upon informing her that I had $4,500 pesos, and that it will cost $2000 for the renewal and over $1,000 for the penalty, she said that I could wait until the next pay day. WHEW!

About not being able to work until it's valid again, not a word was said. I figure that if I were to have inquired, then they would have been obligated to say that, well, yeah, you can't work. Surely they realize that I shouldn't be working, but by the same token, they'd rather not leave 45 students stranded for however long it takes the ever so charming Oaxacan immigration office to process the paperwork.

Though obviously I'm being ironic, the human resources ladies were under the impression that the immigration office is indeed a pleasure for us to deal with - evident by the fact that they thought I incurred no fee when I changed my employer and domicile. Pishaw! That was another $2,000 pesos! I just about choked on my tongue when they reasoned that my visa wasn't renewed at the time I changed employers because I didn't have to pay.

oooohhhhh shit.

So, I, uh, sort of thought that when I paid immigration and waited 3 weeks for them to update the sponsor on my work visa that by so doing would also give me another year. Nope. From the looks of things, I've been a wetneck since uh, let's see.. yup, March 22nd (a "wetneck" is a mashup between "wetback" and "redneck"). It's a hell of a thing to work for a government institution when the government itself prohibits me from working.

So what's the plan, Stan?

Well, I know for sure that they're not going to let me continue working when I point this oversight out to them. After all, they didn't let me work while my visa was still current although listed another sponsor. That said, I'm left with two options: A) Don't friggin' tell 'em. This, to me at least, seems like the obvious solution. Ah, but what'll happen when I try to leave the country? Worse still, what will happen when I try to reenter? The alternative is then B), tell 'em.

Call it paranoia, but I'm worried about what sort of shit sandwich is in store for me. Did you read my earlier post about the new teacher and how they seriously prolonged the visa and hiring process? This was, we think, in part due to the fact that this campus hadn't really wanted another English teacher - he was intended for the other campus who stupidly rejected him after those who accepted him quit. Will the school use my plight as an opportunity to rid themselves of an extra teacher? Something else that worries me is that the human resources boss called 2 months ago, when my visa expired, and asked the English department head if they are supposed to send us a letter to remind us that we need to renew our visa. The English department head said yes, and that they've always done this - so why did they ask? Did they not want to incriminate themselves? Are they faining ignorance as to avoid orphaning 3 classes while I get it fixed? Does the university face paying a fine? Will they pass that savings right on to me?
  
Supposing that I'm a paranoid schizophrenic and none of the above comes true, I still have to tighten the belt quite a bit. This could be anywhere from one to four weeks without work. Luckily, mangoes grow wild here.

Out Group

Somebody mentioned to me 'in group virtue, out group vice' when I was complaining to them about how we're not treated as equals at the university. The sociological term basically refers to practices exercised by groups to which one doesn't belong as wrong, though overlooked or even thought of as right when practiced by one's own group. I don't think though that the term applies, at least not in this context. Do American universities remove the foreign teachers' air conditioners and install them in the domestic teachers' offices? Do we notify only the domestic teachers of events that affect all the classes? Do we schedule exams out of ordinary class time, during the foreign language classes without informing the teachers? Do we schedule staff meetings but exclude the foreign language teachers? Do we segregate the foreign teachers from the domestic ones? I think the answer to all of the above is no. Today was funny. I arrived to my afternoon class to the surprise of some of my lingering students. They told me that I was supposed to be at the meeting. I said, “Nope. They don't invite us to the teacher meetings.” “Porque? Eres maestro.” “Porque no nos quieren,” I told them. Half the class cringed, looked away, and nodded their heads like they'd just informed somebody that the game's rained out. A few others said outrightly, “si, cierto.” If there's a silver lining here though, I think it may be that the students get to have their perceptions changed when digesting the behavior of their elder countrymen.

Fish outta water: no me digas gringo

no me digas gringo

I hate the term "gringo." It's racist, no matter how you cut it. I tell them, "no - soy estadounidense. Te puedo llamar frijolero?" Nope. I also don't like "güero" that much, but for that there at least exists a two-way street; I can call them "morenos." Also, "gringo", though slight, carries with it a negative connotation; it's derogatory. It also exhibits the same traits as other words that are incontrovertibly bigoted in nature.

Kooba

We were planning on going to Cuba for spring break (Semana Santa), but hadn't saved up enough dough to accomplish such a task. So, we decided that perhaps the summer break would be better. By that time we would have received our "fondo de ahorro," a fat yearly payout of the money they take out and match from our paychecks. Instead, however, I'm going to make a trip to Pensyltucky to see the folks (it's been a while). After making this decision I read an article in Newsweek about the conditions in Cuba and what the author, a Mexican talk-show host, had to say about some of his callers and their perspective on Mr. Castro as his resignation has made the news recently. It was interesting to read how disparaging the views where between those callers who had visited the communist island and those who had not. Those who had had nothing good to say about the place, quite frankly, placed the Cuban plight squarely on the shoulders of the stubborn dictator. The other group however see the victorious revolutionary as an icon of American resilience; a proletarian hero in the face of insurmountable odds. The difference of opinion between these two groups obviously turns on first-hand experience of the place. Who are you to believe? On a related note, the more I've learned about Cuba, the more I've grown to scoff at those who sport Che Guevara shwag.

Stupid Gringo, you can't go to Cuba! On the contrary. American Law disallows spending dollars in Cuba without a license. I wouldn't have been spending dollars. How can I spend what I don't have? I earn good ol' Mexican pesos, amigo. That's what I'd burn. Besides, the Cuban authorities don't stamp American passports. If they scare off American tourists by documenting your stay, then they don't get your money. But, you can't enter the country without a visa. The solution (between the horns) is stamping a card that you can carry with you! All this aside, I'd be returning to the US after mah main man Barak Obama is in office, the dove I've been hopin' for.

more stuff

    We knew which classes had to be taught considering who passed and who failed last semester, so we planned around that, only to get the hours that we can teach English and which students are available throughout those hours the day before classes actually started. I caught a lucky break because what I ended up having to teach was what I was already planning for. The other two teachers had to change one of their levels.

A new teacher just came aboard. There are two campuses in this region and it was understood that he would be needed at the other campus. This was the plan according to the head of human resources and the assistant vice dean. Both of them have just quit. So, the only person who knew about it was the English department head of my campus. Lo and behold, when Chachi McClueless foreigner gets to the other campus, they're like, 'who the fuck are you?' If I were in his shoes, I would have flipped. Unlike me however he speaks perfect Spanish and seems somewhat passive in nature.

The nice thing is that we handle our own department. We teach what we want, when we want, and with whatever material that we want. We've planned our own system and I think it works pretty well (it's modeled after the Cambridge system).

I've just implemented an online learning resource. Using an open source suite called Claroline. It seems being somewhat Linux savvy comes with its benefits. After talking with Potosino university students as well as those here, using the internet as a learning aid is unheard of. From my perspective, it's unheard of that an online learning resource is unheard of.

I've also just learned that we are qualified to produce state sanctioned translations of official documents written in English en lieu of a university English teacher status. Boy, that's like driving drunk for me.

Look. I've written something.

    A couple people – literally, two – have complained about how far behind this blog has gotten. I hope this update will shut you up.
    I've been teaching at the Universidad del Papaloapan in Tuxtepec, Oaxaca for about three months now, and as far as things go that concern me, all's well that is well. I qualify this with that concern me because quite frankly, I think the school's system is badly broken. Symptoms of it's dysfunction are found in the fifty percent fail rate, passing grade – sexual favor exchanges, the dismissal of the assistant vice-dean, and a tightfistedness over that which shouldn't be in the face of a laxity over that which should.
    I maintain, though, that all really is quite well because what ought not be forgotten is that I'm to maintain a Germanesque non-interventionalist perspective on things. I'm nothing but an “active observer.” So that is to say that I'm admittedly part of this jacked-up circus of a so-called public university but certainly lack the cultural membership or political clout to affect any change, at least directly. I do however sometimes revel in the – albeit presumptuous – thought that perhaps other departments look upon our language center, of which we're given virtual sovereignty, as an example of ingenuity, diligence, and organization. Having come to understand a certain strange Mexican social dynamic here though, leads me to believe instead that we're despised and plotted against.
    This dynamic has been explained to me by means of three variations of the same a joke by three different Mexicans. I understood the first person who told me this story to be apologetic, and the other two told me as a warning – to watch my back. It goes something like this: There's a vendor walking down the beach with two baskets of live crabs. One has a lid and the other does not. A beach goer asks for some fresh crab. “Which do you want? Japanese crab or Mexican crab?” asks the vendor.
    “Well, which one is which?”
    “The Japanese crabs are the ones in the basket with the lid on it.” The customer inspects the two baskets of crabs and chooses.
    “So,” the customer says to the merchant, “why do you keep a lid on the Japanese crabs and not the Mexican ones?”
    “Well you see, just like any trapped animal they want to get out. I don't have to keep a lid on the Mexican crabs however because when one is about to succeed and escape, the others grab him and pull him back in.” The story is meant to be descriptive, not explanatory; I don't know what it says about the social psyche, just that this is what seems to happen here, though I've yet to witness it personally (I have a suspicion though that it may apply to the dismissal of the assistant vice-dean, who actually resigned though under force). A testament to the ubiquity of this story, aside from that I've heard it from three unaffiliated Mexicans, I shared it with one of the other foreign teachers here and as soon as I mentioned crabs, he finished the story. Somebody had told him already.

... Later I'll substantiate what at the moment seem like bald claims.