A little detour from homework at Rinn Law Library...

Alright, alright.  I had this great plan for all these long installments of interesting stories about Mexico.  But, I just got busy, so maybe they will be sprinkled in with just regular stuff about my life.  Here are some normal updates:

I'm in five classes: Remedies, Business Organizations, International Protection of Human Rights, Evidence, and Criminal Procedure.  I like some of them.  You might be able to guess which ones.

My caffiene addiction is back in full swing, and the guilt associated with gluttonously guzzling gallons of glucose made by my friends at Coca-Cola and Starbucks is my addiction's infallible sidekick. 

My friend Ronny is visiting this weekend from Mexico, so I get to do fun touristy things tomorrow and Monday.

It's cold out, and I hate it. 

I really miss everyone that I met in Mexico.  I had some pretty enlightening experiences, and friends that indulged me to ramble on as I thought out loud.  And I miss being so far removed from my lifestyle here.  Even though I was uncomfortable a lot of the time in Mexico, I was stretching and growing.  When I got home, all of it stopped, and it was hard to adjust to being back home.  But the experience overall showed me changes I want to make in my life, solidified values and goals, and inundated my brain with questions that keep me wanting to learn.

Here's something kind of cool:  I've been looking into internships for next summer, and I found one in California dealing with indigenous women's rights.  There are some exciting prospects...thanks idealist.org!

Ok I should be studying.  I am so good at staying distracted.

Repaso 1: Work

It should come as no surprise that this blog was neglected, just like every other blog or journal I've ever tried to maintain.  Really, at the end of the day, sometimes you just don't want to talk about it.  But here we are, nearing the end of the Chiapas Practicum, and I feel like I need to leave some footprint here about the past month. 

So, I'll start with work.  I'm assisting with several cases right now, but the central case is one I've been working on all summer.  It is a petition for a review of a homicide case.  An indigenous woman was accused and convicted of murdering her husband, but she did not receive any semblance of a fair trial.  Apart from this, the center has taken on cases involving pension/alimony (see photo to the left: me and Luisa, the daughter of a women whose pension case the center is carrying, at the site of the land given to the woman to build a house), custody, orders of protection, and other defense work. 

The judicial system here is drastically different than that of the US.  I've been to municipal and traditional courts for various hearings and steps in the trial process.  One of the main differences is that in Mexico, the trial is written, not oral, and usually takes place in an office with the parties all present typing away the relevant document.  (For example, preliminary statements to the authorities, which have the weight of depositions, are taken at the municipal court in one of several offices with old computers.  The statement is typed up as the person gives it, and then it is printed and copies are sometimes made.  And, if you'll let me stretch this side note a bit farther, let's talk about the printers.  They are as loud as the very first printer I ever remember seeing, and you put one legal-sized page in at a time, and then you must turn it over and put it back through to print on the other side.  And so very long files, which are common, take a long time to print.  I think Mexico's judicial system would double its efficiency if they used printers that printed more than one page at a time, and printed the pages faster than their current speeds, which is near the equivalent of handwriting.)

In addition to casework, the center does workshops and popular education in the surrounding indigenous communities.  I've gone to quite a few of these, and it's both exciting and frustrating at the same time.  What a humbling experience to be allowed and accepted into these communities and to be able to watch women and girls as they work through some of the problems facing their community.  But, it's difficult, too; sometimes there isn't a lot of participation, sometimes the fear is too thick, sometimes the division to sharp, and the women do not open up.  The oppression is on their faces.  There are consequences to what they share.  They often do not trust each other.  And it's depressing, too; sometimes the women are discouraged when they learn about their rights, because all it does is show them how they don't have those rights.  Some women choose not to know.  And I can't exactly blame them for that.  But, it's uplifting, too; I've seen some breakthroughs through art, and through dynamic games (which are an unbelieveably effective tool!), and I've seen trust form in a couple of communities. 

Overall, this work has led me to rededicate myself to human rights work.  It's really easy, being in Chicago, watching classmates vie for lucrative positions, to strive for the same thing.  But I know that salary is only relevant with regard to my ability to pay back my debt.  And I've heard things like, "just give it a few years, you will see how people in this field really are," "or, your passion for it will die out once you get into the 'real world.'"  And I think there's legitimacy to those statements.  We all bring baggage into human rights work.  We are all drawn here for different reasons, and some of them are really fucked up reasons.  And we all have shortcomings, we can all be petty, we simply don't have the shoulders for bearing the weight of our work 24/7.  And as for the passion, well, I think when we face stress in life we try to give ourselves a break, we look for shortcuts, and we slack in some way.  Human rights workers are humans.  And I know that sometimes we get in the way of work.  But I feel dedicated and re-energized. 

Well, for the sake of getting something done this morning, I'll end this post with a To Be Continued.  And I'll leave you with one of my favorite pictures from this whole trip.  It's of the girls from El Puerto, and the girl in the back is holding a copy of an international convention on the rights of young people.  The two girls in fron thave their lips pierced.  The one girl who is hiding did not make eye contact with anyone the entire day.

A Month in Mexico

It's difficult to describe the past few weeks.  I've lived abroad before, but this time it's different.  There is so much stress!  Some interesting events have transpired.  Here's a brief list.

1-- At 1:00am on Monday, June 7th, my birthday, I was mugged....sort of.  Roommates Cynthia and Sahiry and I were walking toward our house, sober mind you, we hadn't been out drinking.  I saw a shadow to my right on the road of someone on a bicycle approaching quickly, so I turned to face it.  A guy about my age grabbed my butt and my bag.  I tried to swat him away, but to no avail.  He snapped my bag right off my shoulder and turned the corner on bike.  So I chased him down.  I ran after him, and when he saw this skinny white girl running after him, he did a double take and slowed down.  Then he turned back around and tried to pedal away, but I had already caught up to him. I put my feet on each side of his bike, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled us and the bike to the ground.  Then I grabbed my bag back and started screaming at him.  Then he started to cry, more to get away with what he did, but I wasn't buying it.  He eventually rode off, but not with my bag.

2--- At 3:30am on Monday, June 14th, my third roommate Natalie decided it was about time she go to the hospital because she had slept for two days, except when she was in the bathroom sick, which happened with increasing frequency.  She was moaning in pain when we took her in.  She was admitted, and was there until Tuesday at 7:00pm.  Cynthia, Sahiry, and I took turns sleeping on the uncomfortable couch in the room which, I might add, was not quite clean.  Neither was the sheet with blood all over it hanging out of the garbage can in the hall.  Anyway, it was a LONG couple of days.

3-- At one point during our extended stay at the hospital (and, oh, it felt like an extended stay), I decided to get my own tests done.  I found out I have residual salmonella typhus, a very strong bacterial infection, and some other infection not worth naming because it's gross.  So I'm on medication now and cannot have dairy, broth, sugar or alcohol for a week. 

4-- At another point during the hospital stay, I asked the nurse to take my weight.  When I converted kilos to pounds on my phone, I thought I had made a mistake.  But no, I was right, I have lost twelve pounds in the past month.  I weigh the same now as I did in high school. 

5-- I found a place called Kitch 'n' Bagels that sells- you guessed it- kitchy knick knacks and fresh bagels.  It's a place where you can go to rent movies and watch them in a room that looks like an opium den.  You can play pool, or you can listen to a story teller.  There are also tarot card readings.  They offer a wide selection of small glass boxes containing skeleton figurines in dresses or farmwear, waiting on benches or sipping sodas with companions, usually with a cheesy saying painted somewhere on the box, usually something like "te amo siempre."  It's the weirdest place ever, but the bagels are good.

6-- I went to a house party where the cover was either 20 pesos or a "kilo of help."  I later learned this means that the party is a fundraising event for a good cause, but it will be full of many hippies and backpackers who seem to have taken an oath against showering or even swimming.  There they will be, with flea-infested dogs in tow (no exaggeration).  It's not that I don't like meeting each of these people individually; it's more that I don't like being close to people who reek and could potentially give me fleas or one of the infectious skin diseases that are prevalent here (according to a friend who lives here).  Especially when accompanying the odor and parasitic potential is a weed-induced, half-hour lecture about how much you don't understand the life of the people here because you could never know because you are from the States.  So I bring the kilo of help (bag of rice or other non-perishable), I get a beer and I sit by the fire (there is usually a fire), which I figure wards off smell and bugs.  Viva la lucha, Viva la ducha.

So, lots going on.  I'm helping with a case at the Center for Women's Rights.  It's pretty intense and it's really a challenge.  I'm really, really, really getting sick of tacos.  I am vascillating between feelings of guilt for having so many luxuries at home and a ferocious desire to get back to them. 

That's not to say that I'm not enjoying my time here.  I have wonderful roommates, and I am really honored by the work the Center is allowing me to help with.  I like what I'm doing.  I've made a lot of sacrifices for what I'm doing.  This is by no means a vacation.  I will write more about the Center another day.  Suffice it to say that this experience is stretching me and will forever impact my life and my career.  My homesickness is not enough to send me home, and it's not enough to blind me to what's going on in Chiapas, the serious human rights violations that are all around me at all times.  I know why I'm here, and I know I made the right decision to come here.  I guess I'm going on like this because tomorrow is Dani's wedding, and I'm not there, and she's not happy about it.  It's devastating.  Literally, I'm very upset.  But there is nothing I can do to change the situation.  But my helplessness and my grief is nothing compared to what is around me.  I can go home in a month in a half. 

Well, if you've made it through this, you get a gold star!  Kind of weighty, this one.  I'll bring levity to the next. 

Diez Dias en San Cris

I'm taking advantage of this rare internet connection in the new apartment to bring news to the outside world.  This morning, the group that was here for ten days left.  What an intense program!  But it was intensely rewarding.  I made some new friends, and I'm glad I'll get to see them in the fall.  I've learned a lot here in Chiapas so far, and I've been here less than two weeks.  I've been to places I never thought I would ever get to see, and that many others don't get to see.  If you are thinking about doing this program next summer, I think you should sign on without hesitation.

The setback for me was getting sick, which happened around Sunday and is still lingering a little.  I'm on the up-and-up, though.  The four of us here for an extended stay moved into an apartment this morning, which we found yesterday.  We were told it had internet.  We were not told you only get one bar of internet and you only get it when you are in the living area.  Boo!  So I can't sit on my bed and Skype or check email or aimlessly browse the internet.  This makes me angry, even if my anger betrays an ugly addiction to internet.  Don't judge me!  I miss my family and Cliff, and internet is the only way to talk to them. 

Other than these problems, most things here are pretty awesome.  It's hard to describe San Cristobal.  It's really, really laid back.  The streets run for the most part north to south and east to west, but there are exceptions.  There are two main roads which run perpendicular to each other called "andadores" or "walkways," where there are no cars allowed.  The sidewalks are very, very narrow, at some points about a foot across, at the most two.  The streets and sidewalks are cobblestone, and "slippery when wet" is a huge understatement.

The intersections are confusing.  There are red lights that flash the word "uno," meaning only one car at a time.  In theory, this means that the traffic coming from two streets in the intersection (only two streets because most are one-way) weave together.  In practice, it's more complicated.  I've seen three or four cars go before someone from the other street goes, and if someone honks, it seems to give them a pass right through.  And pedestrians are on their own, even though technically they have the right of way.  We kind of weave, too.  But on the andadores there are people walking very slowly, just meandering around talking to people and going into shops and bars.  There is definitely a backpacker vibe here, but not everywhere. 

The buildings are super old and colonial style, but there are businesses in them.  It's a strange juxtaposition of the old and the new.  There are indigenous women walking around in traditional dress selling woven belts or popcorn, and there are Europeans with unruly kids and unruly hair, and there are people dressed modernly going to work or trying to hand you a flyer for a party at a bar later. 

Well, hopefully you have some mental image of San Cris, and hopefully I will supplement that later.  All for now; Natalie (roommate) hears some people downstairs so we are going to investigate. 

P.S. This a Burger King.

Doppleganger Alert

I found this picture next to a NY Times article I read online.  All the other pictures of her don't look like me exactly, but this one kind of freaks me out.

M.P. Dunleavey.

Me.

Weird, huh?

Batteries suck

My Criminal Law exam is tomorrow morning at 9am.  At 1pm, I will pick up my take home Contracts exam.  Naturally, I came to Julie's house to study for tomorrow.  Around 9pm, I was ready to go home, but when I tried to start my car, the battery was dead.  I went to 7-11 (obviously Julie lives in a nice neighborhood; they have 7-11s) and bought jumper cables.  Ryan and I charged my car for around a half an hour to no avail.  The battery is completely dead.  So, I'm staying the night at Julie's.  I have no idea what tomorrow is going to look like, but hopefully the problem is just the battery.

The cherry on top?  I fell asleep studying on the couch last night, so I didn't charge my phone.  It's also dead.

I hate batteries.  At least I have my computer charger! 

Finding the silver lining-ly,

Rochelle

I need a sedative

I leave for Mexico in one week. The past few days have been highly stressful and emotional. Being gone this summer means missing my brother’s graduation, three weddings (one of which I was supposed to be in), about ten birthdays including mine and Cliff’s, my three year anniversary with Cliff, and everything that comes with a summer at home. I’m giving up a lot to do this internship. I have a one-way ticket to Cancun and a bus ticket to San Cristobal for four days later. I don’t know where I’m living, but there are people down there already looking out for a nice place for me to stay near the center where I’ll be working.

So the plan is to post in this journal, Skype, Facebook, and email to keep in touch with everyone. To some, especially my family, this is a crazy decision. I see it as a risk worth taking. I will be working with the director of a women’s center near the center of San Cristobal. I will be safe, and I won’t be alone. Our coordinator told me that this particular center loves to have interns from DePaul, and they take their interns under their wing, making sure they are socially involved with the people who work there. I’m really excited about what’s to come, even though I’m terribly sad to leave.

I just want those who doubt my decision to consider why I’m going. The work that I will be doing in Mexico is exactly the kind of work I want to do as a career. It’s the reason I sank myself in debt to come to law school. It’s the part of law school that I was most excited about: travelling while I still can, meeting people who work at and run NGOs, helping people in need where possible, and experiencing first-hand the costs and rewards of public service. This summer, I hope, will keep me motivated to get through the grueling banality of law school (although I hear it gets better from here on out) and give me the strength to resist selling my soul to corporate law for lots of money (and it is lots of money).

On a related note, my property final yesterday went alright, but there was a disproportionate amount of questions about trademark and copyright law, which I think was unfair, and the entire exam was very poorly written. I do wish I had given myself more time for the essay portion, but I think the extra time spent on the multiple choice will pay off. My criminal law exam is on Friday. Yowza!
Now arriving at Chicago Union Station.

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For a little study break:  Cram Jam