Mexico Traditions: ...and Pepsi!

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It's hard to believe, but the third anniversary of our arrival in Mexico is fast approaching. I remember it well!

As we rode toward our new life from the airport towards Morelia (state capital of Michoacán), we were confronted by a huge red, white and blue sign painted on a pristine white wall: “Bienvenidos a Michoacán ... Pepsi.”

I was in trouble. I took a deep breath.

As a corporate consultant, my last U.S. client was...Pepsi. Projects often fail to start or finish as planned. This one was no exception. When we arrived in Morelia, the project was in full swing—much to the deep distress of my beloved husband who was furious that I would be work-distracted as we began settling into our new home in a new culture and speaking a new language.

Once we were comfortable in our rented house, we began to poke around. Reed's distress sensitized him to see the Pepsi logo all around. But, honestly, it wasn't hard. Pepsi really was "...everywhere you want to be."

The familiar red, white and blue circular logo was painted on wall after wall along the streets and highways of Michoacán. Awnings, tables and chairs in restaurants sported the Pepsi logo. Sadly, even our favorite neighborhood family restaurant wasn't exempt. The Pepsi logo was visible in every pueblo we visited on the meseta (rural highlands) and on the islands in Lake Pátzcuaro.

Pepsi at feet of Purhépecha woman in traditional dress

Pepsi showed up on the back of shirts worn by deliverymen bringing Santorini bottled water to our house. Obviously the deal is, "We'll paint your wall or donate table, chairs, awnings if you'll display the Pepsi Logo." It is impossible to escape Pepsi in Mexico. 

One day Reed looked down the driveway to see a Pepsi truck improbably parked on the berm about fifty feet away from our front gate. Deliveries were in progress across the street to our neighbor's tiny convenience store—really nothing more than a window counter open to the street. When I heard Reed's anguished cry of protest, I feared for our marriage!

In front of our gate—¡Qué barbaridad!

Before arriving here, I hadn't thought much about how the U.S. and Mexican economies relate to each other. So these statistics surprised me:

• Some 18,000 U.S. corporations do business in Mexico.
• Ninety percent of Mexican exports—oil, manufactured goods and agricultural products—go to the U.S.
• Fifty percent of Mexican imports come from the U.S.
• U.S. banks own Mexico’s largest banks.
• Kansas City Southern Railroad owns the line that runs past our house from the Pacific port of Lázaro Cárdenas to Mexico City.
• Mexico’s largest sources of income are from the sale of oil to the U.S., tourism and remittances—money sent home to families in Mexico by family members working in the U.S.

The impact of the U.S. economy on the Mexican economy is profound—a reality captured by this Mexico dicho, saying — “When the U.S. sneezes, Mexico gets pneumonia.”

The first time I saw the string of U.S. box stores lining a prize stretch of highway into Morelia, I gulped — Where am I? This isn’t Mexico! But, yes, it is Mexico today. 

CostCo, Home Depot, WalMart, Sams Club, Sears, Office Depot and Office Max all have Mexican presence. But that’s not all. Side-by-side with U.S. companies are Mexican-owned box stores imitating and extending the U.S. retail business model.

Then there’s the impact of U.S. popular culture on Mexican culture. Like every other region on the planet, U.S. popular culture makes a strong statement in Mexico: music, movies, television series, magazines, youth fashions, electronics….

Purhépecha women in traditional dress reach for cellphones from the front of their embroidered blouses. 

Reed photographed this Purhépecha teenager paddling a traditional canóa (canoe) with an iPod firmly in his ear.

In the face of such raw economic and political power, Mexican President Porfirio Días put into words the sentiments of many Mexicans toward their powerful northern neighbor—"Poor Mexico: So far from God; so close to the United States."

In time, of course, the Pepsi gig ended, and we established a life-affirming rhythm at la Casa Mariposa. But to this day Pepsi remains somewhat of a family sensitivity. 

This is the background, then, for my coming across Craig "Cisco" Dietz's account of the day he and Xun, his gardener and a Maya shaman, set out to purify the Temezcal (sweat lodge) they had constructed together using traditional tools and materials in the backyard of Cisco's house in San Cristóbol de las Casas (Chiapas State). Cisco's account exemplifies the cultural curiosity that we cherish while giving us a chance to glimpse traditional Maya beliefs and customs.

Culturally threatened since the arrival of the Spanish five hundred years ago, Mexico's surviving indigenous populations have demonstrated creativity in preserving their traditional ways of life. They persist in finding ways to adapt modern realities and resources to their traditional customs. Often the results represent important new ideas for sustainable living.

Reading Cisco's account, I couldn't believe my eyes. Among the objects used in this traditional purification rite, Cisco lists the objects that Xun brought: Posh (traditional Maya brew), Pepsi, hunzio, candles, fresh rainwater and Xun’s history, of the continuance of traditions of Chamula....

Yes, you read correctly, here in an ancient Maya rite of purification was...the ubiquitous bottle of Pepsi!

But don't let me spoil an opportunity for you to experience this account first-hand. Here's the link: Cisco Dietz http://www.mexconnect.com/articles/725-temezcal-y-xun-the-sweatlodge.

Travel Journal: Maya Bio-reserve in Chiapas State

Reed received a terrific message from a friend in Connecticut asking for more information about Chiapas. Reed's reply is the jumping off point for this post.

As for your question about Chiapas being a 'hotbed of revolt', where we were appears quite safe and full of European tourists. One tour driver told us that since their uprising in 1994, the Zapatistas have become an established political force in the Maya areas. As a result of their activism, each pueblo now has its own health clinic and schools (we saw and commented on them), which they didn't have before.

I think the federal government now pretty much leaves them to themselves, while nonetheless providing funds for community services. Sounds like good politics on the part of the Zapatistas. In fact, our waiter at our hotel in Palenque complained that the Maya pueblos get all the government money while his pueblo, on the edge of the city, gets none.

Mayan children in a 'remote' pueblo 

Much of the eastern 'wedge' of Chiapas that juts into Guatemala, which seems 'remote and so far removed from contemporary society', is included in the Reserva de las Montes Azules (Blue Mountains Reserve) and other, smaller reserves.

At first glance, these Maya preserves do seem 'remote', but the global world has arrived. 'Ecotourism' is a major business. Tour buses run daily from Palenque—which is full of international tourists—to a number of organized ecotourism sites run by local Maya communities.

Jane and I went on a half-day trip from Palenque to Agua Azul (Blue Water), so called because the minerals make the water appear turquoise.

Agua Azul 

We ate lunch at an open-air restaurant by the river, operated by the local Maya community. It certainly looked 'remote', but we laughed to see the outdoor dining area dominated by the ubiquitous large-screen TV providing live CNN International coverage of the rebellion in Egypt. 

When I went to Yaxchilán, the boatman piloting our launch—the only way to get to this 'remote' site—pulled out his cell phone to chat, in Maya, with his buddies up the river. In my photo of the launches on the beach, check out the red and white radio or cell tower in the center of the background in the jungle on the Guatemala side of the river. 

So much for 'remote'. 

We generally don't enjoy being around large numbers of tourists. San Cristóbal was full of Europeans and we felt like we were at an international mall or Disneyland instead of in Mexico.

But during the group tours from Palenque, I decided to make use of the opportunity to learn about the points of view of some of these Europeans. On the tours, we were surprised to meet many eastern Europeans—Russians, Romanians, Latvians, Czechs, Slovakians, Ukranians—as well as many western Europeans—Italians, French, British, Belgians, Germans, Swedes. And virtually all spoke fair to excellent English. 

My Polish seat mates on the trip to Yaxchilán—an opthomologist and his psychiatrist wife—told me (in fluent English) about their travels in southeast Asia and North Africa, places I haven't visited. Their ability to travel— and live—freely conveyed a very different Eastern Europe from my memories when Jane and I traveled behind the Iron Curtain a couple of times in the late '60s and early '70s! And they told me that English—and cell phones—are essential in the global world of the Internet!

By the way, the eco-lodge near Bonampak, Escudo Jaguar ("Shield Jaguar," which is the translation of the Maya name of the Palenque king, K'inich Pakal ) has wooden cabins, considerably more secure than the tents you stayed in by the Caribbean at Sian K'an on the Yucatán Peninsula.

A number of the Europeans on my bus got off there to spend the night and take a five-hour hike in the jungle the next day. Some were then going on to Guatemala to see the Maya city of Tikal. My Polish companions commented that it was all very 'exotic'!

What a contrast of cultures to be in these ancient Maya sites, in the 'remote' jungle of Chiapas, and in such a global community at the same time!