So it’s 12 degrees Fahrenheit in Ithaca. I thought that today I would be out jogging, but that’s not happening! No way. Maybe in the near future I’ll be brave again. Maybe not. As for now, I’m cooking stew and split pea soup for my lunches in the next few days. I somehow managed to get myself locked into some hours of work at a book store where every student at Cornell has to be to buy their textbooks. It’s a madhouse! It’s only temporary, though, and overall I enjoy it. I think I have a special love for young kids, so seeing millions of them in one day is a joy–until the last fifteen minutes where I can’t see straight anymore. Anyway, since I’m not at the cafe anymore, I can’t just eat when I’m hungry. I have to wait for my breaks and have my own food to eat–unless I want to stand in line at the bookstore cafe and waste all my break time there! (No thanks!). So I’m cooking my food as read the history of Texcoco.
Texcoco was the cultural capital of pre-colombian Mexico. It was there where, after the conquest, the first cultural school was founded, as well. What I’m trying to do with this study is connect dots that are very intriguing to me. Right now, a friend of mine (also named Gabriela) is living in Texcoco and together we dream of bringing back to life those secrets of our indigenous past that was used effectively for medicine. Something even more intriguing, the community that the other Gabriela is partnering with, has held on to the original traditions & language since forever and still exist and practice all that which is Aztec (Nahuatl). This community is in Texcoco.
The temperature continues to drop. My stew is done now. I’m running in my mind how to dig into our indigenous culture and bring back that which is precious for all Mexican people. At what point did we completely lose our souls–and our dignity? When we were enslaved or when we embraced someone else’s culture, language & religion as supreme? Why are so many of us still helpless and lost in the abyss of ignorance and superstition? How can we ignite their own desire of knowledge and learning? Maybe by showing them the beauty of their own selves.
Right now most people accept that which is European as the mark of beauty, while that which is indigenous, not so much. These people, at a subconscious level, buy into that idea too. They abandon their own value and adopt the value of what is fed to them via telenovelas and other media. They don’t know how to read. They can’t afford to go to school. What they believe is what the pastor tells them.
I can’t change that, I know. But I would love to! I dream of it. I dream of finding a way for them to believe in their own beauty, in their own greatness, and the glory of their own heritage. I also dream of finding a way for Mexicans to no longer risk their lives to cross a dangerous border, but instead, stay home and try to build something great. How to do this is beyond me, but I dream of it, nonetheless.
It’s too cold to workout, but it’s not too cold to read, to write, and it’s definitely not too cold to dream.