International Insomniac

Tonight I find myself writing from under the covers of my glorious bed in Columbia, MD. No, I am not hallucinating, I am in the United States. Thanks to a generous plane ticket of a gift from my mom, I am spending 80 hours at home -- an all too short visit with my beloved friends and family. However, tonight (my third night north of the border), the sandman has refused to come, and so here I sit, the light of my laptop reflecting in my eyes, while the Discovery Channel broadcasts dreamlike images of Earth into my bedroom. (Planet Earth is still the best show ever.)

The voyage to Columbia -- and it does deserve to be called that -- began at 5:45 Friday morning when I arose in my Tehuacan bedroom. After a quick shower and even quicker breakfast, I walked the seven or eight blocks to the bus station, with my Vietnamese day-pack strapped to my back and a purseful of transportation documents on my shoulder. I arrived 20 minutes before the departure of my prompt 7:00 bus. Arriving in Mexico City at 10:30, I had several hours to kill, as my flight to the States would not depart until 3:20pm. I locked up my belongings at the bus station, and set off to explore.

After a short metro ride and a long walk, I arrived at the zocalo, the city center and middle of the MC historic district. I was prepared for some street vendor browsing, crowded intersections, and a cheap lunch. I was not prepared for the sight which greeted me: 100 men dancing in the street, clad only in shoes and tiny, strategically placed signs displaying the face of a Mexican senator. That was it. 100 naked men... dancing. Yeah.

It turns out, the men were actually accompanied for a dozen or so similarly clad (or rather, unclad) women, who sported nothing but shoes. The women, naked from head to ankle, tan, and jiggling all over the place, were handing out fliers. From the flier, I learned that this enthusiastic crew was part of a movement called the 400 Villages, which represents the rights of indigenous farmers based in the state of Veracruz. The villagers had traveled to Mexico City to hold this demonstration in protest of Senator Dante Delgado, the former governor of Veracruz. The demonstrators accuse Delgado of stealing their land and "demand the return of the land of the dispossessed and incarcerated." (direct translation from flier)

The sight of the dancing men, unencumbered by clothing, and the appeals of the woman haunted me for the rest of the day. It was a sight unlike any I had ever seen. It proved not only that Mexico City has no public indecency law, but that democracy and peaceful protect in Mexico City really functions better than in most U.S. cities. After I watched the protest for a few minutes, I continued my walk around the historic district. Two blocks from the zocalo, I saw a smaller gathering of unarmed police officers. They seemed prepared to intervene at the protest, should the need arise. But I don't think it did.

The protest was stunning, dramatic, even crude, yet perfectly legal and perfectly managed by law enforcement. It made me a little jealous to see such a well-functioning peaceful protest, but then I began to think: are these protests only tolerated because the police know they will be fruitless? After all, this has been going on for years. Or will this desperate cry for the public's attention and the government's reparations be successful? Learn more about the story here.

I had to return to the bus station at 1:00, and after that I headed to the airport. After confusion among airport staff as to where to send Delta customers for check-in (the counter just moved to the newest wing), I was rushed through check-in and security with my plane mates. We left on time and flew over New Orleans right at sunset. After a layover in Atlanta, I landed in DC at 11:15pm. Met by my mom and stepdad, my sister, and her fiance, I found the homecoming to be everything I hoped. After the airport, we went to IHOP and chit chatted over hot chocolate, coffee, pancakes, eggs, and french toast for 2 hours.

On Saturday, I lounged around the house until late afternoon, when I enjoyed a delicious Thanksgiving dinner at Pittsburgh South (my friends' house in McLean, Virginia). My late fall good cravings fulfilled, I met more friends and family today in Columbia for bagel brunch. Chinese food for dinner with Dad rounded off the weekend of indulgence. Tomorrow I have some stateside errands to run (banking, a haircut, battery shopping), lunch with one friend in Baltimore, and then dinner with another in DC. I leave for my journey back to Tehuacan at 7:55 Tuesday morning. This whirlwind weekend is the result of more than 30 hours of travel -- but so far it's all been worth it.

My return to Mexico will mark the beginning of the end of the semester -- just three more weeks of classes. Then, I'll start a 20 day backpacking journey that will take me as far as Tikal, Guatemala. I hope to find the answers to some of my Mexico questions on trip, but I know that the journey will leave me with more question marks than could ever be erased in 20 days.