Arriving in Oaxaca City

It’s been a second since I’ve woke up in an entirely different culture. Culture is an interesting work because there are constantly many cultures of culturing morphing and moving all the time, some we can name as distinct to a specific place, others slither between in around despite place, influencing it and yet also being co-created by it. Like the the matryoshka doll, where one being fits into another and into another and so on, culture is like this.

I woke up in Oaxaca City, Mexico, after a fairly chill day of travel with my friend who is tagging along with me. Often the airport hop around is stressful, full of running to the next flight, getting confused about terminals or layovers, impatient ticket booth workers. This was one of the easiest travel days I’ve ever had. As I expected, landing into a world that loves color, as a way to make home and place and space, feels like a sigh of relief. For folks who know me, who have walked into my space recently, or seen my art, sewing or craft work, you know that I have a love of color and tone, as a synestesia type, color makes me feel big things, soothes my need to stem or self-regulate. Color helps me feel good, happy, less depressed, content, and connected to the landscape and people around me. Even though I am a guest in this place, the colors make me feel at home.

In the past, I’ve been resistent to international travel. I’ve done it plenty during times in my younger life, and it was profoundly impactful on me. My parents took me abroad a few times as a teenager, and it was the only time I ever really got far out of my very isolated home town. Our trips were very scheduled and touristy, every minute of every day dictated and determined, and I felt I was exhausted by the ‘bought experience’ of place. And yet, I had moments of authentic connection within that.

In college, I went to Peru, Bolivia, Spain and Ireland. Peru and Bolivia were a trip studying geography, and Ireland was another tourist venture that I got to go along on. I walked the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain in 2008, through a class studying walking and pilgrimage as a religious experience. Still, I was very aware of how our experience as Americans, and folks coming from a newer conglomerate and colonizing modern culture (I’l starting to get away from using ‘western culture’ these days) affected the cultures around us. It became its own culture, that which is shown to the visitors, to the point that it flips a place and people upside down.

I ended up writing my senior thesis in college while studying Philosophy and Religion, on the harmful affects of western tourism on traditional cultures, then drawing a very distinct black and white line between these worlds as if they were strict and clear.

As I’ve grown older, I I took time to dig into place farming for years food and herbs in New Hampshire and Vermont, and then decided to roam around the western U.S., not venturing out of the country for over a decade. I did seasonal cannibas work like many folks did during that era, and didn’t go to central and south america, but just studied plants in the U.S., took the time to explore the wild lands of the states and little places all over. Some part of me regrets not taking that time to explore in my 20’s, to travel, learn other languages, plants in other places more. I guess it’s never too late. I had a lot of fear of international travel, I still grapple with some of those fears. Part of it is feeling guilt about the privilege of the travel, that I may be somehow negatively affecting the place by spending fossil fuels to go there. In other moments, I feel guilt for spending the money, instead of working or getting a ‘real job.’ I grew up in a place where you only travel once or twice a year for a week and that is it. The rest of the time you work to ‘earn’ you one week of vacation a year. I have learned that this is specifically an American thing, and after doing seasonal work for years where my time was worth more per hour, I realized there are ways to work for chunks and then live simply and explore for a time. My overhead and impact is low compared to so many other modern folks in countries like the U.S., and yet high to most humans in the world who live simply in a way beyond what most American’s can imagine. Even here in Mexico, talking to folks in the hostel this morning, with my handmade clothes on I made myself, trying to relate to people from London or Austin, Texas or Finland, I still live very different day to day than most international travelers. Or I don’t know, it depends on where you are and who you meet. Another reason for resisting international travel was because I felt that it was unfair how easily it is for me, to travel to some place like Mexico, than for someone in Mexico to travel to the U.S. Simply because of the economy, NAFTA and historical colonization, eugenics and global politics, and so many more factors, the U.S. dollar and white skin, even if that white skin is made up of roots in indigenity somewhere, gives inherent power, that is uncomfortable to possess. Growing up in the south I had that being white in a place where my ancestors enslaved people historically with black skin.

And yet, there are many factors at play here. Last night arriving at 10 pm, my friend and I, another femme, couldn’t go out on the streets to walk to look for food. The front desk clerk at the hostel told us it was dangerous. It does also change how one moves in the world as someone socialized and appearing as a woman.

I also felt guilty about not having good enough language skills to meet people in connection where they are at. I was bothered by that in college when I first came up with the ideas for my research around commodified culture, and yet I can’t fully blame myself given that the culture I grew up in didn’t encourage learning more languages and also one didn’t need to know anything but English for the most part. The culture within the culture didn’t have to.

And yet, my perspectives are changing. I am trying to see things less black and white overall these days about everything. I accept that I awkwardly fumble around trying to catch a cab with little Spanish skills, or order a coffee not feeling confident about how to order the words right. And yet, that discomfort is important to push into, to try to challenge, in order to get to comfort.

I’ve felt this in many other scenarios, going to support the walk to Oak Flat, an Apache run spiritual walk to protest a proposed copper mine on sacred land in Arizona, I’ve gone for many years now. It’s a different culture, where I am a minority, and yet they welcome outsiders in. The first time I went I went with my then partner who was adament about going despite how I wanted to bail a few times. Also, he passes as native american so it was different for him, but yet, we agreed that being outside our comfort zone was worth trying to do. It ended up being such a profound experience of for a second seeing a world of someone else, in their comfort zone, and having more empathy because of it. I still am uncomfortable, feel like I don’t know all the customs and get things wrong, feel shy about talking to native folks I have connected with in the past assuming they don’t want to talk to me, and yet I show up even if I am messing up. I’ll be going again this year in late February, if you’re anywhere near the area, consider also going.

Being in Mexico is the same, and yet there are plenty of internationals around, plenty of ‘catering’ to the visitors from other places. I have a local friend we’ll be visiting and staying with who I am friends with outside of transaction and commodifying culture, but part of our ability to connect philosophically is because he put in the work to get a Phd in foreign countries, to learn English to an extent that he can meet me in my mind.

I’m here to get perspective, plant seeds in myself for future longer visits. Ground Shots is a work of web connecting, and sometimes it is not my place to be the connecter or tell the story or even give the platform for the story to be told. Other times, it seems fitting and makes sense, and when I’m invited, I respond curiously by following up. The podcast has been slow lately too for a few reasons, having less energy, less collaboration that keeps me motivated, and some past trauma around the project that I’m working through. And, not having any funding to help me prioritize the work. Eventually over the years you give something as a gift, for free, without a business plan, it comes back to you with burnout, debt and discouragement. And yet, the project, even if less abundant in episodes right now, is still being listened to all over, all the time. Other web weaving is happening without me even knowing, or I find out much later.

Oh yeah, I have a gofundme going for my birthday for the Ground Shots Podcast currently, I did one last year too and met my goal. I haven’t put it out there much because of the fires in LA, and the flood in the south near where I grew up from Helene, and felt my project was small fish in comparison. And yet, I’d be curious to interview folks I know who have been affected by Helene. I used to live in the very places now gone. I’d like to talk about the fire ecology of California, something I studied intensely for 5 years while living in my truck bopping around the state trying to say identify every Ceanothus or Oak species. So you’re support inspires me to feel less burnout, pay off my debt, and keep going.

Also, you know, becoming a paid subscriber to my substack here, feeds me and the project’s storytelling work.

So here, I am, today is a day. I want to visit the botanical gardens and see some of the political art of Oaxaca if possible. I came with one tiny backpack with this computer, 3 pairs of underwear, my toothbrush, notebook, pair of shorts and extra tank top and that’s it. It’s kind of nice to travel with nothing. But, I might go buy some wool pants or a sun hat.

We plan to hang here for a day, and then venture to my friend Samuel’s tomorrow to visit and conjure some podcast collaborations. We’ve got some ideas. I’m not sharing much until its really happening. If you’re a long time Ground Shots Podcast fan, you’ll know I’ve had Samuel Bautisa Lazo on twice, and his conversations are fan favorites. Here’s number 1- the first episode we ever did, and it was with him. We talk about in our conversations the affect of tourism, power, and money on his culture, things I dip into here on this substack piece.

I hope to write more while I’m here, for a few weeks. I hoped to be here a few months initially, but it took everything to get here, from the depression that keeps me in bed, to my truck constantly breaking down and working on it in cold temps, and spending every bit of savings i ever gain on my breaking truck… to bad breakups.. to low energy and fighting lung infections.. to having too many projects and tendrils to tie up before going from place to place, I had to throw my hands up, be ok with things not fully ‘right’ and just go with the tiny backpack. I feel good, content, happy.

The last time I traveled to Mexico I was struggling with a era of heartbreak post breakup, a particular era that was confusing and jarring full of smoke and mirrors, lies and deceit and everything about the places I went reminded me of the person who hurt me at that time, every color, paleta, plant and tiny honey bee. In a way that felt jarring and hard. This time, though those somatic imprints are still there and will never just leave, I am here in a different way. I’m not sure how yet. I must move into a new story, and the world is open, and yet vibrating to be condensed.

Onward to food, and wandering, and uncomfortable moments of growth, fumbling Español.