Dear Mexico, I Love You Too

6/4/2018

Yesterday, in anticipation of an upcoming return trip to Los Angeles for my hooding ceremony, I reflected on the nearly 7 years that I lived there while working on my PhD. I remembered my first trip abroad after moving there, to the International Primatological Conference in Cancun, Mexico in 2012.

View of the Caribbean Sea from the ruins of an ancient Mayan port city, Tulum. Yucatán Peninsula, Mexico. 2012

My trip to Mexico came soon after a major change in my life. I moved across the country, from western New York to Los Angeles, in September of 2011 to start a PhD at UCLA. I knew absolutely no one there. I barely knew my advisors who would hold so much influence over my life and career. It is a dangerous thing to jump into such an important relationship with your eyes closed, but that is exactly what I did. Drive and tunnel vision made me do crazy things, and those crazy things would have consequences…but that’s not what this blog is about. Less than a year after moving, I got on a plane to Mexico for the first time. I can recall so vividly my first impression walking out of the airport in Cancun that night. How the heat and humidity hit my skin and made me swoon. How the palm trees waved in the breeze. The smell of the Caribbean sea. It was heavenly and I was instantly enamored.

Some brief thoughts on the conference experience...
It was my first international science conference. The first time I’d present data on my dissertation work. I remember being nervous, very anxious about being a new-comer to the field and being relatively inexperienced. I had only been thinking about monkeys for a year at that point and I was unknown in primate circles (I pretty much still am). Although I have improved just the slightest bit over the years, I was completely ineffective at networking during my first international conference.
But I learned. Particularly about the politics of science. Up to that point, I had never really even realized it existed. Monkeys were sexy (apparently) and a popular subject of study among biologist (a fact that would cause a fair share of problems later in my research…but that is not what this blog is about). These monkeys were marketable. There was strategy in the way they were presented to the public, and that was most evident in the “25 Most Endangered Primates” session. It was a meeting to decide which primates would make the list of most imperiled primates that year. It was interesting and strange to see passionate scientists making the case for their species of study. I wondered, could this list really be so important to the fate of these animals? I left the meeting feeling quite unnerved. The process didn’t seem all that scientific, and these were hard decisions. What were the real priorities and motivations for choosing species? How could it be that the majority of Asian primate species, probably the most endangered of all, barely make the list? What was the impact of the list on the actual outcomes for these primates?
There are surely answers to all these questions but I still don’t have them. But I know how hard it is to prioritize species for conservation. Wouldn’t it be ideal if we could just save them all? Of course, but is it feasible with the current resources and strategies available to scientists and conservationists? Is that marketable to the public? I’m sure to some degree the species on that list serve as flagships (flagship, or umbrella species are typically charismatic species that appeal to the public and garner support for the preservation of the habitat where those species live. If that one species’ habitat is protected, all of the other organisms that it shares space with are also protected). So, in the end, I can see how conservation efforts stemming from such a list can go a long way, even for species not included.
I survived my talk, and the conference. BUT, this blog isn’t really about a primate conference. It is about Mexico. And how I fell in love. How I want to return, and why.

Another view of ruins at Tulum. Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico. 2012

My first international presentation was exciting and scary. But it went well and I survived. IPS conference, Cancun, Mexico, 2012.

Auditorium for the Keynote Speakers. IPS Conference, Cancun, Mexico, 2012.

In a boat with my advisor, Jessica, preparing to snorkel off the shore of the Tulum ruins. Yucatán Peninsula, Mexico. 2012

After the conference, I was fortunate enough to spend some time in a less touristy part of the Yucatán (Catemaco, Veracruz) as part of a post-conference field course: “Study and Conservation of Primates in Transformed Habitats: Neotropical Region” led by scientists from Veracruz University. It was a great course, geared toward Latin American students (in fact I was the only gringa student) and therefore it was conducted mostly in Portuguese and Spanish. Having accomplished a decent fluency in Portuguese by that point, I was able to keep up. I learned so much about the effects of habitat fragmentation, reintroductions of primates to the wild, safe capture methods, resource allocation, DNA sample collection, parasite monitoring and more.

A spider monkey in a transitional enclosure, soon to be released back into the wild. Catemaco, Veracruz, Mexico. 2012.

Hiking through forest. Catemaco, Veracruz, Mexico. 2012.

Learning techniques for primate behavioral studies. Catemaco, Veracruz, Mexico. 2012

The natural landscape was beautiful: Isla de los Monos, Salto de Eyipantla, the cloud forests, the wildlife. I got to see the ruins of Tulum, see octopuses while snorkeling. But what struck me most on this trip was the amazing group of people I met from Mexico, Venezuela, Brazil, Puerto Rico and all over Latin America. Everyone was so open, communicative and collaborative.

Salto de Eyipantla, Catemaco, Veracruz. 2012

In a boat headed for Isla de Los Monos. Catemaco, Veracruz, Mexico. 2012

We had dinners together and went out for drinks at the end of the days. Catemaco was a small town, but so beautiful and charming. The food was SO good, fresh from the fishermans' boats docked at the shore. The tequila so smooth, and so cheap. And the people, everywhere, were so warm. From the course organizers, the other students, the hotel staff, the people we met on the street, EVERYONE was so open.

Fishermans' boats line the shores along the Yucatan Pensinsula. Mexico. 2012

The group got on so well that some of us stayed our last night at a local student’s home in the city of Veracruz. He opened his home to us, and his family embraced us, even leaving us with souvenirs for our journeys home. Again, the food was amazing! I still think the best thing I’ve ever eaten is a carne asada taco (or 5) from a street vendor in Veracruz. If I ever get the chance to return, I hope I find that man and his cart - eat 100 tacos, and bless him for his gift to the world.

The primate conservation field course cohort. Awesome people. Catemaco, Veracruz, Mexcio. 2012

Because of my flight schedule, I spent an extra day with my new friend and his family in Veracruz after everyone else left. I feel especially grateful for their hospitality, the home cooked meal, the trip to the beach, their patience with my broken Spanish (really a blend of Portuguese and Spanish lovingly referred to as Portuñol), the invitation to return and see them again. I will always love them for the gifts they gave me, the wonderful memories.
In thinking over all this years later, I realized that Mexico gave me what I needed at that time. What I’ve always needed. From the moment I stepped off the plane, to the minute I got on my return flight home in Mexico City (which I initially missed and had to rebook - even the airport staff were incredibly friendly), I felt welcomed. I have never felt that so completely anywhere else, not even here in the United States. Not even in LA, the city that I grew to love (in my experience as a black woman, loving LA is like being in an emotionally abusive relationship - I don’t say that lightly). I walked through the streets and no one stared, people smiled and said hello, people welcomed me into their homes, asked me about myself with genuine interest, showed me basic human kindness. This might seem like nothing, but to a black woman abroad, this is everything. I haven’t received this warmth so absolutely in any of the other places I’ve been, least of all at home.
So, dear Mexico, dear Yucatán, I love you too.