Travel Writing in Mexico 2007

AMANDA NIELSEN (journalism student) writes:
I was told by all of my Spanish teachers from sixth grade through my second year of college that the only way to truly learn the language is to travel to a Spanish-speaking country. Finally, after taking almost nine years of Spanish, I will be immersed in el lenguaje and the sights, smells, and sounds of Mexico.

It has always been one my dreams to study abroad and after being jealous of my friends’ adventures in London, Rome, Sevilla, Israel, and Costa Rica this past year, I now have the opportunity to embark on my own cultural expedition. I am ecstatic to be able to travel to and spend three weeks of my summer under the warm Mexican sun while gaining first-hand experience writing about travel and leisure.

Naturally I expect to learn about the history and culture of the area, but I also expect to learn valuable tools for travel writing and being a journalist. I want to hone my writing skills and not just reflect on my experiences, but take readers on a visual journey with my words and pictures.

I have three main preconceptions about Mexico: that it is more colorful, less chaotic, and less sanitary than and my northwest suburban hometown. I imagine the colorful sights will help me to write vividly and I think I will enjoy and learn more on the trip being surrounded by a less chaotic atmosphere. However, the last of these preconceptions leads to my greatest anxiety: getting sick.

My main consumptions during the day are water and fruit. I always have a bottle of water with me wherever I go, my security blanket in a sense: everything will be okay if I have my bottle of water (and my cell phone). I have been told not to worry because I can purchase bottled water when I get there, but it still tops my “anxiety list” over getting lost or being away from my family, boyfriend, and friends for 22 days.

My only hope for the trip is that it is like a taco: a variety of tastes and textures all wrapped up in a scrumptious package. I hope to take a break and swim in the clear, blue water at a beach in Puerto Vallarta. I hope to listen to the musical talents of a classical Spanish guitarist or a mariachi band. I hope to make new friends and contacts. And, although I plan on packing a handful of Power Bars just in case, I hope I try tasty new foods full of spices and flavors—and hopefully a real, Mexican taco.

JESSICA ROSENBERG (journalism graduate student) writes:
I'm afraid to go back. I spent a semester in Oaxaca when I was junior in college. Although that was six years ago, the memories are still with me. They are present in a scar on my leg. That scar marks a moment in time - evidence of a spill I took while hiking with friends I had just made.

They are present in the rush of adrenaline I feel when I go swimming – a reminder of the panic-stricken afternoon dip that could have killed me.

The memories come to me every time I slam a shot of mescal. The taste takes me back to late nights in streets and clubs and cemeteries that will never happen again.

During those four months I was overwhelmed – in every sense of the word - and I can’t explain why. Maybe it was because I missed my boyfriend. Maybe it was because I was there during September 11 and the world was so uncertain. Maybe it was because I got caught up in the culture that only thinks of today and doesn’t need a reason to celebrate.

It’s easy to get swept off your feet in a place where everything is intense – the sun, the colors, the flavors, your feelings. And it’s easy to forget about work and chores and unpleasant relationships when everything around you begs your attention.

I love Mexico, but I’m afraid to go back. I fear my susceptibility in place where I gave in to temptation so many times I’m embarrassed to admit. As a 20 year old, I thought everyone was great and everything seemed like a good idea. I’d like to believe that today I am wiser, stronger, and able to resist with ease, but there is a part of me that is nervous I’m not. What if it all happens again? I barely handled it last time, will I this time around?

Despite this feeling, I’m excited to return. I’m excited to write about a people and place I feel passionately about. I’m excited to see the parts of the culture I previously overlooked. Excited to discover if my memories of Mexico are really the true Mexico.

BETH PALMER (journalism student) writes:
I once devoted entire moments to immerse myself in the intricacies of Chicago’s inner clock. I was a tourist. I sat on a concrete breaker located at Oak Street Beach and witnessed the moon rise as a college student sprinted toward Lake Michigan and lept into mid-air frontflips. His feet stomped craters in the sand.

The John Hancock building cast a shadowy presence on the beach. In the corner of my eye it took the shape of a giant rook piece from chess, towering over the bright neon-lit city night.

When I travel I usually go with what little history I already know. I skimmed a couple of Lonely Planet books before and during a trip through Eastern Europe in 2005. I am the type of learner who retains and is most excited by history when another person verbally passes the information. I compensate for knowledge I lack by noticing and committing to memory the nuances existent in daily life, like I did that one Oak Street Beach evening. My eyes the camera lens, I zoom in and zoom out, letting my mind fabricate theories about how each of those nuances play off one another, creating the culture, for example, in Guadalajara.

I have no fears about the trip; any mishaps will only further the adventure. I am excited about the blogging opportunity the trip provides and the multimedia nature of our homework and projects (We’re going paperless!).

I can’t predict what actually will happen during our stay in Guadalajara, but I can mention my probably wrong preconceptions: I visualize a bright color scheme in the clothing, painting, pottery, and upholstery. I envision the people glistening with sweat, always squinting at the constant sunshine. And, of course, I expect each meal to be subsequently the best meal I’ve ever had. Mexican cuisine es mi favoritio de todos. (Me hablo Espanol solo un pico – es mal!)

Adios, Chicago!