The Top 10 Differences Between Working In Mexico and The US

10)     If your neighbours have a WiFi connection that is not password-protected, it is acceptable to hang a sign reading 'WiFi zone'.

 9)     When the electricity goes out, which is often, it does not mean that the restaurant closes, just that you need to buy more ice.

 8)     Neither is lack of plumbing a reason for closing.  Water can easily be obtained next door.

 7)     When something breaks, it can be rigged back together with whatever is handy- how it looks is not a concern.  If said object cannot be fixed by oneself, it will not be repaired/ replaced until the staff threaten to revolt due to frustration of not having a properly functioning said object.

 6)     Change for large bills comes from neighbours, not banks.

 5)     Showing up within a half hour of your scheduled in-time is perfectly acceptable and not considered tardy.

4)     When you ask for your salary four days after you should have been paid, your bosses ask you how many days you worked and how much they're paying you.

3)     If there weren't a shrine to the Virgin Mary, complete with crucifix and candles burning at all times, we would all go to Hell.

2)     It's not sexual harassment when your bosses tell you that you need to dress more sexy at work.

1)     It's rude if you don't kiss your boss (or anyone else for that matter) every time you come and go.

The First Thing That I Noticed About Colombia

Winding my way through the humbling Andes of southern Colombia on a minibus, I was captivated by all of the people in the lively, one road towns that we passed through. Vibrant buildings, hammocks and pool tables beneath light canopies of banana leaves, dissipated into the arbour as quickly as it they had come into existence two hundred yards back. Some we passed through rapidly, and they registered as nothing more than blips in the window, each a fading mirage. Others we drove through slowly, noticing every smiling face as women carried baskets of watermelon on their heads to the minibus, men momentarily put down their pool cues, and children looked up from behind the cash register of their family's shop. The elders sat in plastic chairs, in front of every home and shop, guitars and drums resting upon their knees. Shopkeepers hung out windows and stood in doorways. All around people were working and talking and smiling.
Each town was the same, every thirty minutes coming upon another, their happiness and energy so contagious that even those of us on the bus, tired and hot, trying to wait patiently to arrive at our stops, couldn't help but be overcome by their animism. We would buy their juices and fruits, become energised and begin talking with them, and continuing amongst ourselves after we departed, until once again the heat drained our energy. The towns became our oasis, infusing us with life each time we passed. As the day wore on, and the sun faded behind the mountains, the lights of the town served as beacons in the dark while the cool night air revitalised us and the women in the towns sold chicken and soda. Throughout the entire southern region, these towns dotted the Andes like ornaments on a Christmas tree, giving off energy, love and camaraderie.
The Caribbean Coast offers more of the same, sandy white beaches replacing the lush green foliage of the mountains. From the villages to the cities and beach towns, the atmosphere does not change. Shopkeepers hang out their stores talking with the street vendors. Those who are not working visit their friends who are, seated upon plastic chairs in outdoor foyers. In every direction the narrow lanes are filled with people talking animatedly. When evening falls upon the town and shops close, folks gather in the plazas to talk about their days.
Enveloped in such an atmosphere, it is impossible not to be overcome by the joviality of Colombia. Though civil wars have cast a shadow upon this land for over a century, often throwing the country into mass depression, now there is a catharsis of good vibes permeating throughout.

Feral Dogs and the Societies That Raise Them

In the US, there are no feral dogs. Feral cats abound, an epidemic that animal lovers bemoan, in cities and towns, hills and countryside. Organisations do their best to pick them up, have them neutered and spayed, to little avail. Dogs however, do not suffer the same indecencies. A loose dog may roam about for an hour, maybe two, before it is picked up by either a good citizen or the 'doggie police.' Those dogs will be euthanised if not claimed by their former owner, or if they were in fact feral, by some family wanting to adopt them. What does that say about the citizenry of the US? I don't rightly know, as I had never given the matter much thought before coming to South America.

Since then, however, I have learned to discern a great deal about a culture through the behaviour of its wild dogs. In cities and beach towns, second- and third-world countries, I have realised that much may be deduced about a citizenry by both the way that a community treats their animals, and the behaviour of the animals themselves, which often mimics the attitudes and characteristics of the citizenry.

Before arriving in Argentina, I was told by an expatriate friend living in Buenos Aires to be prepared for the abundance of feral dogs- something that at the time, surprised me to hear. It had recently become illegal to kill feral dogs, and now they had taken over. I was admonished to look down when walking in the streets, so that I could avoid stepping in dog feces. Weird, I thought, but didn't really give the matter any more consideration. Then I arrived in Iguazu, Argentina. What surprised me most were the feral dogs inside establishments. No one kicked them out. In the hot muggy air of Iguazu Falls, dogs took their respite inside banks, shops and restaurants. I had been prepared to see them, but not inside the ATM booth. The fact that Argentines had decided that it was immoral to kill wild animals is a tribute to their compassion, especially the extent to which they live side by side with these animals, not even shooing them away from their businesses and homes. Unfortunately, the character of these dogs says something further about the attitudes of Argentines.

In Iguazu, Buenos Aires, and every other town I visited in Argentina, the feral dogs were the same: dirty, mean, usually injured, and going about living their lives doing whatever they'd like. The few that seemed like they would not bite you should you offer your hand, had open sores, their ribs poking through their matted fur coats, and mouths ajar with their dry tongues hanging out. One had to remind themselves that it would in fact be a stupid decision to offer ones hand to a feral dog. They often fought in the streets, gave chase to each other (and sometimes people) and fought over women and territory. The feral dogs, really the first that I had been exposed to, were everything that I thought they ought to be: wild, mean, and dangerous. The dog's behaviour was reminiscent of how the Argentines themselves behaved. Noses in the air, one foot carefully placed before the next, and an aura of self importance and entitlement visibly emanating from them like a heat wave in the desert. They were proud and possessive, just like their dogs.


As it turns out, though, not all ferals exhibited those same behaviours.

In Montevideo, the capitol of Uruguay, feral dogs were practically non-existent. That made sense: there were plenty of nicer places for a happy little homeless dog to go. The sparsely populated country contains plenty of rural beaches and towns for them to roam in peace; in the beach towns feral dogs abound. However, the dogs seemed more like community pets than wild beasts that only survived because it was illegal to kill them. They were friendly, followed around tourists and natives alike, and possessed nice coats and full bodies. Well fed and friendly, these dogs had a place in their community. Though Uruguayans are generally poor, they are warm-hearted, giving, and take care of each other and their communities, including the animals within them. These dogs, too, shared many characteristics with the citizenry of their communities: relaxed, friendly, and beautiful.

And so it was that I began to realise that dogs, like many things in life, are a product of their communities.

In Bolivia and Peru, feral dogs were less abundant, though still present. They were chased out of city centres and tourist areas fairly well, yet still existed in the small villages and open country. Though in these circumstances, they did not fare well. As in Argentina, they are malnourished and disease ridden. They scavenge for food in countries where there is little, and do not survive long. For outside of the few prosperous areas in these countries, whence the dogs are exiled, there is not enough to go around. Food scraps are not tossed aside, but used to feed families and livestock, and there is nothing left for an animal without a care-taker. For Bolivians and Peruvians take care of only themselves- left destitute after centuries of conquest, all that is left to them is survival. And in the larger and more prosperous cities, they shove aside tourists and dogs alike, wanting their cities to be theirs alone, after finally have gained them back from the Spanish.

After seven months of travelling South America, the first thing I noticed about Ecuador was its feral dogs. Which abound. Like Uruguay, Bolivia, and Peru, they were kept out of the prosperous cities, which were sparkling clean, developed and westernised, and left to roam the villages along the coast and in the mountainous regions. And in these places the dogs enjoyed a visible presence and place in society. Though not always well fed, the dogs in Ecuador receive plenty of attention, are friendly and playful, and eager and energetic- just like the Ecuadorians themselves. Vibrant and full of energy.

These dogs provide a good argument for nurture over nature. Regardless of the breed, these animals possessed similar qualities to those that bred them. Their treatment by society, as well as the general attitudes and characteristics of said society, would seem to heavily influence the nature of their feral dogs. Thus, the nature of a society may be aptly deduced by a quick study of the behaviours of their animals.

An American in Bolivia

   It isn't the most pain-free experience getting into Bolivia with an US Passport.  Even if your Spanish doesn't suck, you're not wanted in Bolivia, and they really don't care how much you try to speak Spanish, or the fact that  you want to be there, it really doesn't matter how much you appreciate their culture and want to experience the wonders that their country has to offer- they don't want you.
  US Citizens are the only folks in the world who have to pay to get into Bolivia, $135USD, for a five year, 90 day per year visa.  It's reciprocal, of course, but it's not my fault that the US Government makes it really hard for everyone to get into the US (of course, to be fair, it's not the average Bolivian's fault either).  Generally, US citizens, Australians and Canadians are the folks who have to pay entrance fees or get Visas, but not in Bolivia.  Here, US citizens are the only ones who have to pay when they get off the bus...  which may explain why, in the seven weeks I have been in Bolivia, I haven't encountered more than a dozen other US citizens (even though I am working in the largest hostel in Bolivia).
   So pay I did.  After all, there is too much to see and experience in South America's least developed country- the Salt Flats, Amazon, Lake Titicaca, Ruins all over...  native tribes and traditional culture that wholly (or at least mostly) leave aside and resist Western influence...
  But at every corner I meet resistance.  When checking into hostels in Sucre, Bolivia, I was constantly faced with consternation when filling out my passport and personal information- a few made negative utterances not-so-much under their breath.  Two hostels nearly turned me out- but I had a friend staying in one, and a reservation at the other, and was able to talk my way in.  In Potosi, a mining town with limited tourism, 'Fucking Grinigos' was shouted at us a number of times; once, we had a bottle thrown at our group of five, my shoulder being the unfortunate place upon which it shattered.
  Generally, I find Bolivians to be quite friendly, especially when I am able to communicate with them in Spanish.  Some places less so than others- the less tourism the less friendly.  The general feeling is that tourists bring money, and as long as they attempt to speak Spanish, and don't stay too long (90 days is the maximum anyone can get a tourist visa for), they're okay with you.  That friendliness, however, quickly changes when they learn that I'm not a Euro-gringo, I'm an American.  A typical encounter between a Bolivian and myself:  I approach someone at a market, or at the park, or in a cab, and greet them in Spanish.  We exchange pleasantries, discuss whatever brought us together, and then the conversation inevitably turns to them asking where I am from.  Now, I usually manage to avoid the answer with remarks like, 'no es importante' or 'estoy aca ahora.'  However, sometimes that isn't good enough, and then things go south- like they did one night at a club...
  After work one night a large group of us went to a club called Mongos.  When I say a large group, I mean, that around ten every evening, the staff of the hostel at which I work and the one around the corner decide where they want to go that night, and for the rest of the evening whenever a guest comes to either bar and asks 'where's the party tonight?' we have an answer.  At any rate, Mongos: mind you, this club advertises to gringos, and changes the music from traditional Bolivian music to American hip hop around three am, when we all get there.  So this surprisingly tall and attractive Bolivian man starts hitting on me, and we are speaking in Spanish for a good ten minutes, during which time he is constantly asking me where I am from, and I am giving him everything in my arsenal of deflections.   Eventually, after a concerted effort on his part, I concede and admit where I am from, at which point he turns around and walks away.  A few minutes later one hears the church bells chime three, and on cue, the music changes for the last hour of business.  I watched my would-be suitor walk out of the club at 03:01.
   When I was younger, I remember asking my sisters what it was like to be black.  After seven weeks in Bolivia and hours of tears spilt, I think I'm coming close to understanding.

Buenos Aires

As I wander the streets aplenty

I stare in awe at the city's bounty.

Overhead the buildings towering

Shine gloriously with their gold trimming.

The angels singing from their perches

Beckoning, they seek your patronage.

Carved perfection in marble and stone

Their essence captured yet somehow unknown.



And down another street I turn

New wonders abound for which to yearn.

Though here the shops don't stand so tall,

Yet their colours are cause of enthrall.

The bright structures do inspire-

Cause gaiety, forgetting mire.



And as I round another corner

Majestic music drifts on over;

Mirthful melodies to please the ear

As people gather, drawn in near

To hear the flutes and guitars and drums

Allowing the beats to overcome

Invokes within us peaceful musings

Of loves and losses and summer flings.



But even as the crowds do flock-

Still many others take no stock.

For though their pace be leisurely,

They have else they needs or rather be:

To San Telmo, at the street fairs;

Perhaps on Subte, to sell their wares.



Down to the tunnel did I descend,

To take the Subte to its farthest end.

Bust'ling and loud, peace there is never;

Sounds echo through the tunnels forever.

The squeaks and creaks and cracks of the tracks

Mimic the murmurs of folks at my back.

Whipping and spinning around corners-

Doors ajar grant I witness the wonder.



Envel'ped I paid no attention-

Abruptly I reach'd my destination.

Out from the darkness I did climb

Onto the calle, where church bells chime.

Immediately I'm accosted

Beggars and pedd'lers not abated!



Beyond, I continue on my way

To Recoleta, I shall spend my day

Among the tombs and mausoleums,

Serving History as its Lyceum;

Speaking for Argentina's belov'd

Evita's dreams forever confronted.

Eternally Heroes remembered-

Lama's legacy always admired.



Alas it's time, I must depart-

This place bestowed all it can impart.

By a new route I shall return

To behold new sights, from which to learn.

Through the park I start to wander-

Am overcome by its grand splendour!



As I pause to reap in the beauty

Earth's bounty I find has achieved full glory-

The trunks of the tress grow meters wide;

The boughs- an umbrella, doth shade provide.

Colors possessing such vibrancy

Like Alice wander I into fantasy.

My mind racing, infused by passion-

Nothing to stop my reckless abandon!



As I spin from reality

A tango dancer I'd rather be!

Passions ablaze, hearts of fire

Consume each other, ne'er to tire.

Faces so close, two become one-

The tease of the dance never outdone!



Eventu'lly I am distracted

From my dreams, no longer enacted

In my mind, by a scent so divine

As to tear me from a tango so fine.

As the smells come wafting o'er I find

That I cannot be appeas'd in my mind

Lest I head o'er to the parilla

Whence I discover meats fit for Hestia.



Their meats renown throughout the world

They were not lies- all you have been told!

Served juicy and rare, perfectly

Cut, flavours that cannot be equally

Match'd, only masked by seasoning

And marinades cause ruining!



To it's guests this city keeps giving-

It's chest full of treasures is unending.

Tango dancers, meats for royalty,

It's architecture and diversity

Of people and places, exuding

Beauty, music nothing less than pleasing.

History and culture emanates

Whence leave have I no desire to take.

Brasil: Lesson Learned

Spending most of February in Rio amounted to a month long party. And the party doesn't stop in Rio, it goes throughout the entire country, and it doesn't stop in February- it goes all year round. Though I had had enough by the time I left, this party life-style is just one faucet through which the Brasilian attitude emanates... You can get hints of it on the roads, where street signs are merely suggestions. You can see it at the beach by way of sungas and bikinis, or even walking down the street where sarongs, shorts and sandals are the dress code; bras and tee-shirts optional- even at work. You can see it on the faces of those in the slums and the favelas, and in the eyes of the folks asking for your empty beers to recycle. You can see it in children swimming in dirty water amongst plastic water bottles and wrappers. You can hear it in the Brasilian accent, and relaxed speech.

This attitude is so prevalent that it emanates from every aspect of the Brasilian character and life-style. It doesn't have to be spoken- it is felt, and understood. In a few days one realises that there is something different about Brasil- something spectacular. In under a week it becomes clear what exactly is going on.

Since leaving, I have continued to meet a plethora of Brasilians. Many in their young twenties study abroad, where higher education is more affordable. In these folks, too, is their attitude omnipresent- it is the Brasilian character. It's simple, serene, and accepting. It doesn't matter what one looks like, where they live, if they missed their bus, or how they'll find their next meal- to be Brasilian is to accept life, and enjoy it- to be able not just to say, but to believe, "Don't worry..."

Nintendo Wii: Slowly Defeating My Arguments Against Video Games

I have never been a fan of video games. Super Mario Brothers and Contra were just about the only video games I ever enjoyed, and I never had my own consul. I have always held that the games were isolating, keeping children indoors staring at television sets, rather than playing stick-ball with neighbourhood children; that they were a large factor in the growing anti-socialism in the youth of the last couple of decades. Similarly, that they helped to foster the current child-obesity epidemic, as kids sat in front of the tele in lieu of exercise. And while a game may have popped up intermittently that contained some modicum of educational value, they weren't big sellers, and when mom bought them, they got dusty on the shelf while children preferred to shoot ducks or find the princess.

When Nintento came out with the Wii, I had to admit, they almost defeated all of my arguments. With games like Wii Fit, players were able to get some form of exercise, whether playing tennis or golf, or doing a classic floor mat routine. However, I still had a problem: why are kids playing baseball with faceless voices from across the country, when they could be out front or at a park with their neighbours and class-mates?

Then there were the Senior Bowling Leagues, in which over 1000 seniors play among the 186 teams. The thing about this league is that, aside from the players now participating in something that is somewhat physical (though less so than actual bowling, it's on par with what their bodies are capable of), seniors participate as a community. Although the teams play with others from across the nation, the teams themselves are usually made up of folks residing in the same retirement communities or nursing homes, and it's not just the bowlers that participate- they are cheered on by their co-residents.

With this market of gamers newly discovered, more games, such as Brain Age, by Wii, are being geared towards seniors, and maintaining their cognitive abilities. Now, if we could just get the children to follow suit, before they reach their seventies...

Isn't that cool?

Last month I spent two weeks rooming in a hotel with a young woman, Sara, whom I instantly felt to be my long-lost little sister. One night, while we were playing games in our room with another young woman on the trip, I mentioned in passing my sisters back home. The second young woman looked at me with awe, exemplified by her wide-eyes, then to Sara. "I know, her sisters are black. Isn't that COOL?!' Sara exclaimed.

It truly is a great day when the next generation's reaction to my inter-racial family is: cool!

The Catholic Church: Moving Forward

The Roman Catholic Church has always had a reputation for strict adherence to its doctrine; rich with traditions, the RCC prefers its members to stick to stick to them. Historically, it has been unacceptable for a Catholic to practice something specifically contrary to a church doctrine, however, that modus operandi seems to be changing under the leadership of Pope Benedict XVI. The Church is moving forward with a more lenient arm around its member's shoulders. From neighbourhood churches to Papal policies, the Vatican is telling its members: it's okay to not be perfect; moving away from the strictness that fostered the idiom Catholic Guilt.

This week, the Catholic Church has been all over the news, and the overall tone is one of progression. After decades of serious talks about reunification with the Anglican Church, the Catholic Church is almost ready to incorporate the Anglican Church into its fold. The Vatican sponsored a five day conference of scientists and theologians to contemplate astrobiology (the study of the origin of life on other planets), and its meaning. In both Italy and the United States of America, the Catholic Church has been surprisingly quiet about issues that in the past would have invoked an outcry from the Vatican. When Pope Benedict XVI was named, moderates cringed and conservatives rejoiced; yet it would seem that he has taken to following more closely in his predecessors footsteps than anyone would have imagined.

For decades, The Anglican Church and the Roman Catholic Church have made efforts at unification, but talks stalled constantly due to inherent doctrinal differences amongst them. Perhaps one of the most important differences is the Eucharist. Like most Christian religions, the Anglican Church views communion as symbolic. One of the cornerstones of Catholicism, however, is the belief that the priest actually transforms the wafers and wine of communion into the body and blood of Jesus Christ. This was perhaps the biggest issue of unification for Catholics- but not for Anglicans.

The Anglican Church allows women and married men to be ordained as deacons, priests, and bishops, a practice which the Catholic Church has vehemently fought to keep out of its ranks, especially in recent years when the American Catholic Church has lobbied hard to change this policy. Clergy in the Anglican Church have found it impossible to join a church which would exclude a large number of its members from conversion. In a striking move forward last week, the Catholic Church released a document outlining the compromises each church would have to make in order to successfully unite, and its overall reception by the Anglican Church has been positive.

The Roman Catholic Church would create separate dioceses for Anglican Churches, which would incorporate many Anglican beliefs into the church, indoctrinating them and allowing them to foster and grow as part of the greater Roman Catholic Church. And although the Church does not plan on lessening its requirement for celibacy of the priesthood, it would admit married priests on a case by case basis, and create a separate seminary and model of priesthood for men interested in becoming priests in the new dioceses. However, with all those concessions by the Roman Catholic Church, the Anglican clergy would have to make a few as well- like re-ordaining as a Roman Catholic priest, and accepting the doctrine of the Eucharist.

Unification is not the only thing the Roman Catholic Church is rethinking. The possibility of sentient life on other planets, and what that means about Creationism, has become something which deserves consideration by the RCC and the Vatican Observatory. In the seventeenth century, the Roman Catholic Church imprisoned Galileo and burned Bruno at the stake for their thoughts on the universe. For centuries, these acts set the tone of the Church regarding the nature of the universe, and sentient life within it. Now, however, the Vatican is admitting that life on other planets is possible, and insists that if true, it would not undermine the Church's belief in Creationism, but help to understand it more fully. The RCC is now admitting what many of its members often held to be true: life on other planets and Creationism are not mutually exclusive.

Aside from unification with the Church of England and the RCC's openness to the possibility of sentient life on other planets, the Catholic Church has been surprisingly quiet about other issues. Recently, a Strasbourg-based European Court of Human Rights ruled that crucifixes must be removed from public schools in Italy. Most citizens were outraged by the ruling; public officials stated that the symbol was more cultural than religious, and that Italy plans to appeal the ruling. The RCC, though displeased, has left most of the lobbying to the State. Similarly, in the United States, health care reform has once again raised the issue of abortion in the States. Historically, the Vatican has seized every opportunity to get on its soapbox where abortion is an issue, but this week little has been heard from Rome, though American Bishops were less quiet.

The RCC, it would seem, is making a huge effort to incorporate more members into the Church. Once mortal sins are now venial; what was once grounds for excommunication is now grounds for compromise and exploration. The Catholic Church is now attempting to reclaim the title that has for millennia been its namesake: Universal.

The iQuit

Apple's latest and greatest, dubbed the 'iQuit' by the Democratic National Party's official blog, has been released- from the Chamber of Commerce, that is.

Apple joined a handful of other major businesses in leaving the Chamber of Commerce in a row over the Chamber's role in climate change. As much as I have never been a fan of Apple, I must praise them for taking a stand, and recognising that businesses must step up to reduce the noxious effects they can have on the world's environment and resources.

I also feel obligated to mention, that even though I cannot support NIKE, they did demonstrate a modicum of awareness by resigning from the Board of Directors...

Check out the DNP's blog and see for yourself what they had to say...

...and read what the Chamber of Commerce has been lobbying for in regards to climate change, and who stood up against it.