All Content from Inside Mexico

We interrupt your tequila to bring you the following message...

margot — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 12:12:51 -0700

We're huge fans of tequila, mezcal and other libations a la mexicana, but every once in awhile it's nice to mix things up. The British Society and BBVA Bancomer's Preferred Customer Unit (PCU) is holding a whisky tasting, complete with a world-renowed whiskey expert who will expound on the beverage's subtleties.

Date: Thursday September 24th, 2009

Time: 7:30 PM

Place: Parish Hall of Christ Church Parish, 405 Montes Escandinavos, Lomas de Chaputepec, Mexico City

Reserve by clicking http://bancomerpcu.com/

Cheers!

La Teca: One of Oaxaca's top chefs prepares traditional cuisine from the Isthmus region

margot — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 12:46:48 -0700

If you're a fan of Mexican food, you're probably well-versed in the delicias of Oaxaca: mole, quesillo, tlayudas. Perhaps you've even developed a taste for chapulines (dried and seasoned grasshoppers). But what about garnachas, and other specialties from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec?

From September 23rd through the 27th, Deyanira "La Teca" Aquino, one of Oaxaca's best known chefs and culinary anthropologists, will be in the kitchen at Polanco restaurant Vinomio. She'll cooking a special tasting menu, showcasing the depth and variety of the Istmo cuisine. The menu will be available for both lunch and dinner.

Inside Mexico profiled La Teca in its October 2007 issue, as one of 25 brilliant, visionary and innovative Mexicans. Click here to read the story.

Click here for Vinomio's reservation line.

La Gloria, Veracruz after the Swine Flu scare

aran — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 08:26:10 -0700

I rode into the town of La Gloria, Veracruz, alleged "ground zero" of the AH1N1 flu outbreak, as the tide of world media began to withdraw. I was hired as a news assistant for an international newspaper to help investigate the cause of the outbreak. But as an independent observer, I witnessed how a media frenzy sweeping through a small town can turn it on its head, and then leave it, just as suddenly, to its own struggles.

Driving into town several pairs of big brown eyes peered at us from the edge of a freshly paved road. We were obvious outsiders, but people here were coming to expect new things.

At the end of April and beginning of May, reporters from all over the world descended on the small town, and then the state government began pumping in resources: Crews lay pavement over what had always been dirt roads; a portable kitchen in a caravan cooked free breakfast, lunch and dinner for all 3,114 inhabitants; another caravan offered access to computers.

In the central plaza, a team of men busied themselves on the gardens around the pedestal of a statue wrapped in black plastic. Only a little hand holding a frog, said to symbolize plagues, poked through the wrapping.

This was the now infamous tribute to five-year-old Edgar Hernandez. Edgar´s was the first known case with the AH1N1 virus. Cases predating his were confirmed later, yet it was with his positive diagnosis that the world first learned of this new virus.

The bronze statue was to be dedicated to "el niño milagro," the "miracle child", for having survived the AH1N1 flu and putting La Gloria on the map. On May 25, The New York Times reported that the Governor of Veracruz, Fidel Herrera, hoped the statue would bring tourists to the town. The inauguration of the statue has been delayed due to conflicts in the Governor's schedule, so it remained covered in garbage bags.

Some local residents thought the statue had no place there because the "miracle child" had performed no miracle at all. Edgar was just a little boy in town, who happened to get sick. Others saw the tribute as a political ploy to distract attention from the real issues plaguing La Gloria, such as alleged environmental contamination from the hog farms nearby. Still others didn't care one way or another.

On April 27, when Governor Herrera flew in on a helicopter to visit Edgar, the whirl-wind for this boy, his family and La Gloria began. By the time I arrived, reporters and news media from all over the world had already passed through. Stories covering every angle had already been printed and aired.

Some news that got back to the local residents sounded negative.

"They are calling us "Muertos de Hambre," said a high school student, walking the plaza with her friends. Muerto de Hambre, translates literally to "Dying of Hunger" but is a profane coloquial term implying that a person is "low class" and worthless. An English language equivalent might be ¨asshole¨.

"But it's not true," she protested.

At the center of it all was Edgar. It was easy to find him. "El enfermito?" a woman asked, "The little sick boy?" and pointed to a light green house down the street.

Everyone must know where he lives, I thought. But then again, it's a small town, maybe they always did. I knew by a child's drawing in the window of the door with "Edgar" written on it, that we had arrived.

His father answered the door, and when we explained who we were and that we'd like to speak with his son, he stood quite for a moment. Then he told us Edgar was not there. Edgar´s mother, Maria del Carmen Hernandez, a diminutive 34-year-old woman, came to the door. She explained how Edgar had been affected by all the interviews.

"He used to pay attention in school, and now he doesn't," she. His appetite and attitude had also changed; he seemed distant and didn't want to eat. When she asks him what is wrong he responds, "Nothing." But she can see something is different. Edgar told her he didn't want to talk to anymore reporters.

"Do you want to see him?" his father who had been sitting quietly on the couch asked suddenly.
"Only if it's alright with you," I said, not wanting to push what seemed like a complicated subject.
Edgar had been next door with an aunt and, after a few seconds he came bouncing in the door. "Hello little boy," I said trying to appear harmless.

"Hello," he said, shaking my hand and immediately retreating to his mother's side. She wrapped a protective arm around him.

"How are you?" I asked. He didn´t respond, but whispered in his mother's ear.

"You want to go play with your brother? Ok, go," and with that, in less than a minute, he was back out the door.

His mother said that people believed all the attention had been a blessing for their family. Before the flu, they had lived a normal life, free of criticism. Now people in town gossiped about them and even blamed them for the outbreak and deaths throughout Mexico and the world. It hasn't just affected Edgar she said, "it has affected us all."

Others, however, like the 76-year-old farmer Guadalupe Serrano, have used the sudden attention to find a wider audience for their grievances against Granja Carroll de Mexico, the hog farms owned by Virginia based Smithfield Foods Inc.

Granja Carroll has 16 hog farms along the border between Veracruz and Pueblo states, according to the company website. They breed more than 1 million hogs a year, which accounts for about 12% of Mexico's national hog production. They employ 907 people, 99.90% of them they assure us are Mexican.

Serrano, a resident of La Gloria and an activist, has been speaking out against Granjas Carroll for years, accusing them of not properly disposing of hog cadavers. He alleges the cadavers and other waste are buried in ditches without a membrane that would keep the decomposing pigs from seeping into the ground water.

Serrano´s revolutionary fighting father and grandfather inspired his activism and he is a member of Pueblos Unidos del Valle de Perote (United Villages of the Perote Valley), a group of activists from the area who seeking to force Granja Carroll to employ more rigorous sanitary practices.

A documentary titled, "Chronicles of the fight between the United Villages of Perote against the transnational Granjas Carroll," produced by Agraviados Fillms shows the groups' protests dating back to 2005 and news reports of their activities date to 2006. (Video clip of documentary: www.youtube.com/user/agraviadosfilms).

Serrano claims that due to his activities predating the AH1N1 outbreak, he was arrested on false charges for blocking a road during a protest at which he wasn´t present, and that he was offered a bribe to keep quiet. He asked us to tell the world that the people of his town need help. He called for university students to come study the contamination that he says is occurring in La Gloria.
But even his family's disdain for the media was apparent. "What is the benefit for him?" his wife asked as soon as we entered their house. "Reporters come and he talks to them and he doesn't work, and we depend on that."

It is difficult to tell where the struggle between the people of La Gloria and Granjas Carroll de Mexico will lead, if anywhere. But, Serrano and his colleagues will try to make sure it continues.
And who knows what little Edgar will think when he is older and looks back at this whole experience.
As outsiders we can put the paper down, turn off the computer and television, but the relationship between La Gloria and Granjas Carroll and the effect of having the world´s attention, however briefly, has no off button.

We may never know if swine flu originated in La Gloria or not. But that might not be the most important thing; maybe the most important thing would be to learn the lessons that would improve the lives of poor people who work on and live by industrial farms. And, the study and implementation of these lessons move far more slowly than the attention span of the 21st century news cycle.

Carol Shapiro on how moving to Mexico changed her life

Shauna — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:22:19 -0700

Carol Shapiro talks about her decision to stay in Mexico

Shauna — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 19:43:19 -0700

Westhill Graduates Celebrate Persistence and Diversity

aran — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 05:42:21 -0700

A total of 43 Westhill Institute seniors - the largest graduating class in the school's 16-year history - attended commencement services at the Santa Fe campus' outdoor auditorium on Friday, June 19.

After the 12th-graders filed onto the stage to Edward Elgar's traditional processional march, "Pomp and Circumstance," Westhill board president José María Riobóo Martín offered a brief welcome to both students and parents, along with a few words of advice on how to best use the knowledge that they had culled from their academic experience in their future lives.

Although many of the graduates would be leaving Mexico in the coming months to attend universities around the globe, Riobóo Martín said, "the extraordinary friendships and wealth of global citizenry" that they had enjoyed during their time at Westhill Institute would always be with them.

Saudi Arabian Ambassador to Mexico Muneer Ibrahim al-Benjabi, who offered the ceremony's keynote speech and whose son Ibrahim Marwan was among the graduates, noted that the students were blessed to have attended a trilingual school with a multinational composition and perspective.

"My 22 years of services within my country's diplomatic corps gave me the opportunity to get to know many diverse cultures and civilizations," the ambassador said.

"As a result, I have come to the conclusion that exposure to so many different nationalities and ethnicities gives us all a better understanding of people in general."

Al-Benjabi added that that international sophistication was crucial to the establishment of global peace and the elimination of ethnic stereotypes.

Westhill Institute class of 2009 valedictorian Kim Jae Hong later spoke about the importance of persistence despite initial failures in life.

"We all faced failures on one level or another during our four years of high school," he admitted, "but the important thing is that after those failures, we picked ourselves up and tried again, and now, here we all are, graduating and looking forward to the next stage of our academic and personal development."
Kim, who will attend college in the United States next year, said that, in the end, it does not matter how many times a person may fail, as long as they continue to strive towards their goals, which will make eventual success inevitable.

Ezequiel Elias, the class salutatorian, echoed Kim's comments, comparing the high school experience to a rollercoaster ride with endless ups and downs that takes students to the portals of adulthood.

Before the graduates received their degrees from Westhill headmaster Jerry C. McGee, the school's curriculum coordinator Albert Wynder reminded them to follow their dreams, even if those dreams did not promise financial enrichment.

"Do what you want to do in life, no matter what others may tell you that you should be doing," he said.

"Find something that will set a fire in your soul and never give up on that dream."

Most of the Westhill graduates said that they would be going on pursue advanced studies at colleges in Mexico, including the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), the Tec de Monterrey, the Universidad Iberoamericana, the Universidad Anahuac and Westhill University.

Some of the students will be attending colleges abroad, such Texas A & M, the University of Pennsylvania, the University of Virginia and Westminster College in Salt Lake City, Utah.

With two campuses offering classes from pre-kindergarten through grade 12, Westhill Institute in a trilingual school accredited by both the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools (SACS) and the AvancEd in the United States.

Jacques-Yves Cousteau Observatory set to open in Mexico

aran — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:13:43 -0700

The first Mexican-French joint virtual observatory is set to open in Baja California Sur later this month as part of a binational effort to establish a shared archive on the environmental changes occurring in the world's oceans.

The new on-line observatory, which will be named after the late French naval officer and underwater explorer Jacques-Yves Cousteau, will constitute the first such two-way interchange of coastal and oceanic data between Europe and the Americas, according to French Ambassador to Mexico Daniel Andre Joseph Parfait.

"There is no other country in the world with which France has developed this type of information-sharing observatory," Parfait explained during a press conference at his residence.

"We are hoping that it will be a prototype for other binational marine observatories across the globe."

The virtual observatory will include information gathered by Mexico's National Council of Science and Technology (Conacyt), the Secretariat of the Environment and Natural Resources (Semanart), the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) and the Northwest Center for Biological Research (Cibnor), along with studies and reports from various scientific and academic institutions throughout the country.

On France's side, data will come from the Cousteau Foundation, the Cousteau Society, the University of Montpellier and the University of Nantes.

"The idea is that the observatory will collect and concentrate information on crucial global issues such as red tides, over-fishing and climatic changes induced by human activity," said Conacyt director general Juan Carlos Romero Hicks

"This information will be made available to legislators and policy makers to help them to make more informed decisions on how to best protect and preserve our oceans."

Rosa Delia Cota Montano, mayor of the city of La Paz, Baja California Sur, where the observatory will be headquartered, said that the information provided by the shared research will prove vital in helping her state and municipality to choose economic developmental projects that can be both sustainable and non-destructive for the region's delicate ecosystems.

The Jacques-Yves Cousteau Observatory, which is due to be inaugurated on June 22 with a three-day binational seminar of marine and coastal studies in La Paz, will also be made available to students and researchers throughout the world.

"We are taking the vast wealth of information that has been gathered in Mexico and combining it with the ample experience and expertise of French marine scientists," said Cibnor head Sergio Hernández.

"We chose to establish the observatory in Baja California because it is one of the richest marine ecological areas in Mexico."

Hernández noted that roughly 40 percent of the state's total territory is currently designated as an ecological reserve.

He also pointed out that nearly 70 percent of Mexico's fishery harvests are gathered in the northwestern coastal region that extends down to Sonora.

A subsidiary division of the observatory is slated to open in Merida, Yucatán, in late November or early December, Hernández said.

Romero Hicks noted that for the moment, the binational observatory will have no specific operating budget, but by its very nature, it will encourage joint-venture research products that will be funded by private and governmental organizations.

"The issues of climate change and marine exploitation are very close to France's heart, and we know we can only achieve a more balanced oceanic environment through international cooperation and information exchange," Parfait said.

"The oceans of the world belong to all of us, and they do not recognize political borders. The Mexican government shares France's urgent interest in halting global warming and producing a safer world for our children and grandchildren. That is why this project is so exciting."

The inauguration of the observatory will be attended by Cousteau's widow, Francine Cousteau, along with Baja California Sur Governor Narciso Agúndez Montaño and high-ranking representatives from the French and Mexican academic and scientific community.

Chef Ana's ceviche recipe

margot — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 14:42:12 -0700

Chef Ana Garcia is owner of the Tepotzlan, Morelos-based cooking school La Villa Bonita. She is currently working on a television show about Mexican food and culture called My Mexico.

Today on her blog she writes about a recent trip to Puerto Escondido, where she prepared a fresh ceviche right on the beach from just-caught Sailfish and Mahi Mahi. Ceviche is one of Mexican cuisine's delights, but I daresay most of us would shy away from preparing it ourselves.

Never fear! Chef Ana provides us with a simple ceviche recipe that I'm sure will be debuting at your next dinner party!

Click here to download the recipe PDF.

Mexico's Best Kept Secrets: El Fish Fritanga

margot — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 17:32:54 -0700

Via Cancun Canuck's blog:

El Fish Fritanga is a hole in the wall in the middle of Cancun's hotel zone, and Cancun Canuck gets our mouths watering with a description of the food:

"Here you'll find a great selection of seafood, from the 10 peso "pescadallas" (deep fried fish tacos) to the special Mayan style "tikin xic" fish (prices vary by season), anyone who loves "mariscos" will find something to suit their tastes. I'm quite fond of their "dedos de pescado" (fish fingers), always fresh and delicious and at around 50 pesos, a bargain. "

She raves about the service, and you just can't beat that name. What more can you ask for? I don't know about you, but I'm ready to jump on the next Interjet flight to make it in time for a late dinner on the playa.

Read her entire postc here and see pics. Thanks to Cancun Canuck for the heads up!

Visa study: 84% say AH1N1 will have no impact on their travel plans

margot — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 14:18:15 -0700

According to a recently published Visa Inc. survey, "Tourism Outlook USA", 84% of travelers say that the cost of travel and economic concerns will play a greater role in their travel decisions than fears of the AH1N1 flu virus.

The credit card and financial services company surveyed 1,000 US adults in May 2009 about their travel plans for the year, and the vast majority said that they would not alter plans because of the recent epidemic.

The results are consistent with recent statistical and anecdotal evidence that Mexico's tourist industry is bouncing back from the devastating blow of the influenza outbreak.

83%, however, say that they will curtail travel plans based on the economic environment, including traveling closer to home (31%) or traveling off-peak (46%).

Via CNBC

Facelift Mexico

Shauna — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 06:43:26 -0700

Take a hike: Six parks to visit

catherine — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 17:15:58 -0700

With 22 biosphere reserves, 47 national parks and nine protected areas covering about 12 million hectares, Mexico is a paradise for hikers, campers and kayakers. there’s everything from remote conservation areas to ecotourism hotspots, many with the added bonus of signifi cant historical and archeological sites. We’ve picked out a few to get you started.

Parque Nacional Desierto de Carmen
20 km southwest of Mexico City on Hwy 15; 10 am – 5 pm daily

A great place for day walking, cycling or running along the 25 km of trails through old growth pine and oak forests. Falcons, swans and other wildlife are abundant. Bring your lunch for a picnic among the remains of the 17th century Carmelite monastery that is the park’s namesake.

Parque Nacional Nevado de Toluca
48 km southwest of Toluca on Hwy 134

Serious hikers will get a big thrill out of the short but steep climb up the extinct volcano of Toluca (aka xinantécatl). A road takes you through the park to the base of the crater. In the crater are two clear lakes, the Sun and the Moon. The surrounding area has pine, cedar and fir forests where you can pass a pleasant day, and shelters for overnight stays. You must register when you arrive and pay a small fee that goes toward conservation.

San Nicolás Totolapan
Kilometer 11.5 of the Picacho-Ajusco Hwy; 10 am – 5 pm daily

In the late 1990s the ejido of San Nicolás Totolapan created the fi rst community-run recreational park near Mexico City. There really is something for everyone here: easy hiking or running along the forest trails, paintball, camping, picnic shelters along the river or under the trees, a plant nursery and excellent mountain bike trails. There’s also a four kilometer hike or cycle up one of the mountains to a shrine where you can pay your respects to Guadalupe. There is a small daily use fee and a restaurant at the gate.

Parque Nacional Insurgente Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla (La Marquesa)
32 km southwest of Mexico City on Hwy 15; 10 am – 5 pm daily

A very popular destination for families. Ride a horse, rent an ATV, go for a cycle, or buy your lunch and have a picnic by the water. Hikers of all abilities can find something to challenge them on the large number of trails.

Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon)
Southwest of Cuauhtemoc, Chihuahua

A must-see natural wonder. 20 connected canyons, some thousands of feet deep, carved 80 million years ago. It’s four times larger than the Grand Canyon, with 300 species of birds, 87 reptile varieties, 20 types of amphibians and 50 kinds of freshwater fi sh. The canyons have impressive waterfalls, which you can appreciate up close or from lookouts. Treat yourself and take the Copper Canyon Railway from Los Mochis, Chihuahua. Consult barrancasdelcobrewebsite.com to plan your trip.

Parque Nacional Cascada de Bassaseachic
140 km northwest of Creel, Chihuahua

If you’re in the Copper Canyon area, don’t miss this park which has the highest waterfall in Mexico. It plunges 310 m and is surrounded by superb wooded mountain scenery. Cabins and a camping area are nearby. Rock climbers can rent equipment and try one of the 50 routes around the falls.

For more information on Mexico's national parks, visit: gorp.away.com/gorp/location/latam/mexico.htm and mexicodesconocido.com.mx.

Staying in touch: Constant connectivity

catherine — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 16:53:41 -0700

There's an ad at the Mexico City airport that shows a couple enjoying a romantic boat ride -- with a Telcel hot-air balloon hovering overhead. I can't help wondering whether Telcel thinks this is supposed to be a good thing. Doesn't that hot-air balloon represent a call that could come at any time and spoil the moment?

On the other hand, I imagine instead an ad showing the cubicles that this couple would otherwise be tethered to on this sunny afternoon were it were not for their Telcel phone.

In the 1990s, despite working at an Internet company, I rarely checked email from home. When I needed to work I went to the office, even though it meant spending many nights and weekends there. I had a laptop at home, but with a 28.8 bps modem it was slow and frustrating to use. Plus, I liked having a boundary between work and home. I may have spent a lot of time at the office, but at least when I was away, I was completely away.

How quaint! Today, I get my email everywhere and I am almost constantly accessible. I work from home with only a door to separate my living and office spaces. For better or worse, I am in the futuristic world of the couple on the lake.

Indeed, my world is even more extreme than theirs. Technology has allowed me not just to sneak away from the office, but to another country! My cellphone, high-speed internet, VoIP phone, and Blackberry have enabled me to live in Mexico with a job in New York. Whereas moving to Mexico in the past meant retiring or finding a job locally, it's now possible (at least with some jobs) to live and work remotely without missing a beat. In fact, I recently traded my Nextel Blackberry for one on the global GSM network. Now spammers can reach me in 140 countries. On the other hand, if a colleague or client has a quick question, I can respond right away, without being at my desk. As a result, I travel more than I ever did. And since my job does not require daily face-to-face contact, I can be as productive on the beach in Baja as in an office building in Manhattan.

But what kind of life is it to have the Telcel balloon constantly hovering overhead? My wife grimaces when I reach for my Blackberry the moment it vibrates. I nearly collided with the car in front of me recently while I was stealing a glance at an email. Even in Mexico-indeed, especially in Mexico-pervasive connectivity is changing our lives.

On balance, I enjoy it. I'm happy to avoid commuting to an office every day. I feel like I'm on the cutting edge of a new experiment in what could be called super-telecommuting. But for all the advantages, there is an insidious tradeoff of privacy and sanity. And as I'm finding by living in this experiment, there is an art to harnessing technology to facilitate a happier, healthier, and freer lifestyle. While I have become quite knowledgeable about all the tools involved, I am still figuring out how to use them well.

When I see that couple in the ad, I remember how easy it used to be to turn off and relax. Today, paradoxically, it is unplugging that requires effort.

Wine Wise Lesson 4: Texture

catherine — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 16:04:02 -0700

In our previous lesson, we learned how to examine a wine for salty, sweet, bitter, and acidic flavors. This month, we expand the balance of flavors and sensations that make a wine appealing (or not) to our palates. We'll also learn the vocabulary for what we taste, so you can confidently describe what you perceive in the wine.

Flavors

Dryness/Sweetness

The term “dry” is the absence of sweetness, simply the opposite of what we call “sweet." Sweetness in dry wines comes from alcohol and the natural flavors of mature fruits. The principal flavor in sweet wines is residual sugar (fructose and saccharose) from grape juice that hasn’t fermented into alcohol.

Sweetness is perceived primarily on the tip of the tongue. Sweetness moderates and resists acidity, astringency and bitterness and in turn is moderated by these flavors.

How to describe levels of sweetness: very dry, dry, semi-dry, semi-sweet, sweet, very sweet.

Acidity

The most important acids in wine, tartaric and malic acid, come from the grape. Acidity is best perceived on the upper edges of the tongue. A high and disagreeable level of acidity provokes salivation, and creates an astringent sensation (see below).

An agreeably high level of acidity, however, will cause us to salivate appetizingly. Acidity gives character to a wine in the same way it does to fresh fruit (think of the difference in acidity between an orange and a lemon). levels vary depending on the type and origin of the grape. Acidity is especially important in white wines, which don’t have tannins as a counterbalance.

How to describe acidity levels: smooth, fresh, intense, vigorous, acidic, rough, green, very acidic.

Bitterness

Bitterness is like the taste of quinine in tonic water. Sometimes confused with tannins, bitterness is a flavor and tannins are sensation. Bitterness is mainly perceived in the back portion of the tongue, occasionally as far back as the throat, which is why bitterness is usually perceived at the end or in the aftertaste of the wine.

Bitterness can come from many sources, including high alcohol levels, green tannins in immature red grapes, damaged skins and seeds, excessive extraction while pressing red wines and excessive contact with oak in white wines. Bitterness does not play a crucial role in the structure of the wine; it is simply a flavor. The perception and tolerance of bitterness varies widely from one person to another.

How to describe bitterness levels: quinine bitter, lightly bitter, very bitter.

Saltiness

Although wine contains salts, salty flavor in wine is not common. Many wines from Baja California have a subtly salty flavor, which is caused by the composition of the soil in this region of Mexico.Tangible sensations

Alcohol

Alcohol is a complex liquid which posses possess both flavor (sweet and bitter) and texture. Alcohol produces warmth in the mouth, especially when the percentage of alcohol is more than 13%.

Highly alcoholic wines are characterized as “hot” or “ferocious”. Alcohol’s presence in the mouth is something that we feel. Alcohol also carries and scatters the flavors of the wine through the mouth and spreads them in the aftertaste. The very essence of wine, alcohol is also what creates the impact on our brains and bodies.

How to describe alcoholic content or body: thin, watery, slight, medium or full-bodied.

Excessive alcoholic content: heavy, hot, alcoholic.

Astringency

Astringency in wine is mostly produced by tannins and is primarily present in red wines. Astringency is a dry sensation perceived in the mouth that is created when tannins combine with the proteins of saliva.

How to describe a wine’s astringency: fine, smooth, silky, firm, mature, rich, strong, aggressive, astringent.

Tannin

Tannin is a substance that is produced naturally in the skin and other parts of the grape. Tannin levels are much higher in red wines, since these wines are fermented along with the grape’s skin. They influence the texture of a wine, the sensation produced in the mouth, the acidity and the richness of the wine’s flavor. A natural preservative, tannins permit good red wines to age, lending a smoother texture over time.

How to describe tannin levels: slightly, moderately, very or abundantly tannic.

Speaking of Politics (in English)

sue-ellen — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 08:32:27 -0700

Ana Maria Salazar is the Mexican-American host of "Imagen News," the only English-language nationwide daily radio program in Mexico. In her career, she has worked in the highest levels of government, serving as an attaché in the US embassy in Bogota and as an assistant secretary at the Pentagon in the Clinton administration.

INSIDE MÉXICO: How have the impact and importance of the expatriate vote changed over the past few years?

ANA MARIA SALAZAR: Part of the problem with Americans voting abroad is that the system was initially conceived for soldiers and military personnel. Most of the information came through the Pentagon. As communications have become more globalized and Americans abroad are more connected, people view their right to vote as much more important, even in state and local politics. As time goes by, especially with the divisiveness in the States right now, it’s being taken much more seriously. But there’s one big problem: it’s not easy to vote. The American voting system is already one of the most complex in the world – and this also applies to Americans voting abroad. How do you register? How do you get the ballot? How do you get the ballot back?

IM: How do candidates and parties woo voters?

AMS: Campaigns will be paying more attention to Mexico. We know it’s the biggest expatriate population. As more and more Americans move here and have roots in both countries, the ability to connect to voters abroad is becoming more important. But Americans here are more comfortable and they don’t join groups like in Europe, where they organize into these umbrella groups. So the question becomes how do you reach these Americans? The retirees are easy, but the rest are different. There are very few English media outlets. One would assume there would be English newspapers, TV stations, radio stations. They’re really scarce. If you can’t reach Americans through traditional outlets, it has to be done through the Internet. Campaign themes push ex-pats to get their ballots. One thing is the impression that this could be a really close election, which gets people interested. This time the big international issue will be Iraq, but it’s being dealt with from a national security perspective. Immigration is the other, but the way it’s going to be dealt with in the U.S. won’t get out the ex-pat vote. The issue that would work is Medicare. When will it be available to Americans abroad? It’s almost a choice now between retiring here or getting Medicare. Addressing that would be a catalyst for getting out the ex-pat vote. The others are border issues. Many dual nationals live in border states, and the ability to cross and secure the border is a huge issue. One other issue is taxes. If you vote, are you considered a resident of the state you voted in for tax reasons?

IM: How do you evaluate the candidates on issues that affect ex-pats in Mexico?

AMS: None of them have really talked about Mexico in a way that gets close to ex-pats. We’re not going to hear about issues that ex-pats want to hear about. Most ex-pats will end up voting on what affects their families and communities at home. Part of the interest in Mexico isn’t about ex-pat votes but how Mexican- Americans living in America sense the candidates feel about Mexico. They think, “How does this vote affect that constituency?” They’re looking at how their positions toward Mexico affect the Mexican-American vote.

IM: Which candidate do you support?

AMS: I haven’t decided. I worked with Bill Clinton, so my inclination would be to support Hillary. The Democratic Party is much closer to the way I think. It’s very early in the game. We’re a year and a half away and a lot can happen.

IM: How do Mexicans perceive American politics in general, and this campaign in particular?

AMS: There’s some confusion. Even a lot of Americans are confused! What makes it so interesting is that no candidate has the blessing of the current President. There has also been a clearcut strategy of distancing themselves from Bush’s policies. In Mexico, the fact that the immigration legislation couldn’t get out of the Senate is a reminder of the division of power in America. Mexicans now understand the President is not the king. There’s also this really global interest in Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. They generate a lot of curiosity abroad, that people of very, very diverse backgrounds can run for President. To the rest of the world, it shows a dynamic of diversity in American politics. The whole process of selecting candidates is very confusing for Mexicans. In Mexico, it’s been very different so this stuff about states trying to choose earlier is all kind of bizarre to them.

IM: How will this election affect Mexico and Mexicans?

AMS: There’s a stereotype that Republicans are good for Mexico. Obviously, immigration has an enormous impact. Another important aspect is trade. What will the next President do about agricultural tariffs related to NAFTA? Even though it’s been overshadowed by the war on terror, the positions on the war on drugs are important. And, of course, the border issue.

Ana Maria Salazar, a graduate of Harvard Law School, is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations and author of the daily blog Mexico Today, mexicotodayblog.com. She is the author of two books and hosts the television program "Seguridad Total" on Channel 40.

American Rebel

sue-ellen — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 08:18:31 -0700

Cuban Rebels, including Fidel Castro, were already engaged in the fight to liberate their country from
the dictator Fulgencio Batista when in 1958, William Morgan arrived from Toledo, Ohio, joined a nascent rebel outfit in the middle of the country and helped the Second National Front of the Escambray (SNFE) win a series of victories against the Cuban army.

Morgan and the Argentine Che Guevara were the only foreigners to hold the rank of comandante in the Cuban rebel army. After the rebel victory, Castro, on national television, referred to Morgan as a Cuban. By the middle of 1960, however, Morgan, worried about where Fidel was leading the
country, began conspiring against the Cuban government. The Americano, as he was popularly known, was arrested in late 1960 and executed in March, 1961 a month before the Bay of Pigs invasion.

I began researching this book on rians, rebels, journalists and anyone else who could help me put together the pieces of Morgan’s story.

The more I studied, the more the histories of William Morgan and the men he fought with began to reveal a space that had existed in-between the extremes of the Cuban government and the reactionary Cuban exiles.

The SNFE struggled to restore the pre-Bastista democracy of 1940s Cuba. When their march toward democracy failed, most the SNFE’s leaders were killed or forced into exile. Morgan and the men he fought with have been written out of official Cuban history and their participation in the fight against Batista causes discomfort in anti-Castro Miami.

I wrote this book, in part, to offer something beyond the gridlock between Cuba's extremes. I believe that the experience of these Rebels who risked their lives fighting against Batista, but who were left out of Castro's program, are an essential part of a true understanding of the Cuban Revolution and an honest evaluation of Cuba's possibilities for the future.

You can purchase The Americano: Fighting with Castro for Cuba’s Freedom at amazon.com.

The US dilemma

sue-ellen — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 22:43:29 -0700

“Reason is what will win in the end. We are tired of so much blood. It’s time for something different.”

There’s a little Cuban bodega on the sunny side of Calle Guanajuato in Colonia Roma. Two plastic tables, the kind you sit at when you’re eating fried fish beside the ocean, rest under the shade of red, white and blue "Pepsi Cola" beach umbrellas. The fronds of a small palm tree flutter beside the door to the little shop jammed with cigars, rum and paintings of roosters. With the artistry of minimalist stage directors, Willy Gallardo and his wife Maria have conjured a place far away from urban Mexico City: caribeño, beach, son, mojitos…Cuba…Miami.

“Ayyyy. Mi hermano. ¿Como e’ta’? ¿Quiere’ un café?” says Willy when I come to see him. He’s decidedly not Mexican in accent or affect and swoons when he talks about Miami. "I have friends in the Cuban Embassy here. And I do work in Miami. Do you know Canal 41 in Miami?” Apart from running his store, Willy interviews singers, actors and comedians for a television variety show broadcast in Miami. “Nadie me escapa,” he says with a gleam in his eye, “Nobody escapes me!” When he puts on his husky, come-hither broadcast voice, you know Willy's a pro.

If, like Willy, you’re a 63-year-old Cuban, then you've lived through a lot. Willy was born eight years before Fulgencio Batista interrupted Cuba’s nascent democracy with a military coup and 15 years before Cuban Rebels led by Fidel Castro took power away from Batista. His whole life, which is more representative than unique, has been about surving ing dramatic change. As a youth he was a rock and roll singer and teen idol, as well as as baseball player who threw “with as much inspiration as speed.” When Castro came to power he helped defend Cuba against the Bay of Pigs invasion, became an expert in anti-aircraft artillery, fought for communism in Angola as part of a huge Cuban contingent, and ended up back in Cuba working in military counter-intelligence.

When the Soviet Union collapsed, Willy was in Mexico, working on a project. He decided to stay, took Mexican citizenship and, since 1992, has lived here, with frequent trips back and forth to the island. “Life seems to short to me. I've got too many ideas,” he explains. “I’m too impulsive. I needed to do things that were more relevant."

If you are Cuban, there’s an advantage to living Mexico rather than the United States. The American government restricts visits to Cuba by Cuban residents in the US, Mexico doesn’t. It’s easier to maintain the connection from here, to live between your family there and your life here, between strict socialism and capitalism.

Finding patches of middle ground in the Cuba debate have interested me since I first began chasing down the story of an American who, for a moment, was a Cuban revolutionary hero.

Willy, at 15 or 16 years of age, between 1959 and 1961, might have known about this American rebel comandante. On out second meeting, I said to him, “I wrote a book about William Morgan. Do you know who he is?” (see sidebar).

Willy stared at me. “I saw William Morgan executed. I was 16. [A friend of mine] said, they’re going to shoot Morgan. We climbed the wall of La Cabana [the 18th century fortress across the bay from Havana]. The wall was old and rough so we could climb it. And [we] looked over. Morgan marched out, like this.” Willy marched for a few paces, perfectly straight. “They tied his hands to a post.” He gestured, indicating a post a little more than waist high. “He stood there: crack! The six men in the firing squad bolted their guns. They fired. Morgan fell like this.” Willy slumps at the waist, but does not fall. “And then they gave him the coupe de grace" He puts his index finger behind his ear, snaps his middle finger back, shooting. “He stood right there. He didn’t fall over."

There are a number of version of Morgan’s execution and Morgan dies bravely in all of them. In one, Fidel Castro himself commands the execution. In another (more credible) version, Morgan, as a high-ranking rebel soldier, is allowed to command the firing squad himself. Willy's account offers a new variation.

“Willy,” I asked, “how did you feel about the execution?”

“Pues….” He drew out the “well” as only a Cuban can. “I was a revolutionary. But I loved Elvis Presley and baseball and Coca-Cola. There were always questions inside me.

“The thing that made Cuba sick was Batista. If it hadn’t been for Batista, Fidel Castro never would have disembarked from the Granma, the yacht that carried Fidel and his fellow insurrectionists from exile in Mexico to Cuba.

“All the amazing things Cuba can do – the doctors, the baseball players, the musicians…they were there before the revolution too. They aren’t a product of Castro. They are products of Cubans.

"It's easy to say I believe in the American way of life.’ It’s such a high order to say 'I'm a communist.' I've learned to be a socialist. But communism is a fiction. It's too abstract. Too perfect. Not even Lenin could have been a communist. [The US and Cuban governments] try to make you decide between the two. but I don't earn money from the US government, nor from the Cuban government.

"Cubans have always loved the United States. It's not black and white. I love the United States and I love Cuba," says Willy. "Without being a traitor.”

As we talked over cups of Cuban coffee, I almost forgot I was in Mexico. But in some ways, it’s Mexico’s more neutral territory, its space between the US-Cuban face-off, that made the conversation with Willy possible.

Santos in Mexico

sue-ellen — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 14:36:20 -0700

In May of 2006, scuba divers dove into the ocean near Acapulco to clean the underwater altar to the Virgen Reina de los Mares - the virgin patron of the seas. They found a strange assortment of objects in the sunken shrine. Anchored near the virgin’s statue were a watermelon, a bag stuffed with herbs and another containing an unknown oil. Photos of the Mexican presidential candidates -- Madrazo, López Obrador, Calderón – were pinned to the sandia, laid to rest at the bottom of the sea.

To national media, the signs were clear: “black magic”, “witchcraft”, or a “santería ritual meant to harm the country’s next leader.”

They were only partially correct.

In his deep Cuban accent, Osvaldo Shangó, a santería priest who leads a group of devotees in Puebla explains that what was discovered was surely evidence of santería ritual. What the media got wrong and, according to Shangó, “usually does”, was to suggest that the offering was meant to harm the contending politicos.

“On the contrary, whoever did the ritual had knowledge of and respect for our traditions. A watermelon is the favorite offering to Olokun, the queen of the ocean, so that she would give strength and good judgement to whoever ended up leading the country.”

Misconceptions and misrepresentations are nothing new to the history of santería in Mexico. The sensationalist coverage has done little to generate understanding of the tradition. The Cuban strand of Yoruba (santería) was confined, until recently, to backrooms and secret meetings throughout the country. Popular culture representations evoke horrific ceremonies with hints of "evil".

The true beginnings of santería date back to the Yoruba people, a large ethnic group from Nigeria and West Africa who practiced what was then called Orisha, a set of complex mythologies similar in many ways to those of the ancient Greek and Romans. The religion came to the New World with slavery, and here the traditions were preserved by masking the ritual in Catholic iconography, a practice that began in Cuba.

The basic theology seeks to maintain a balance with nature. If a person makes a choice that brings imbalance to his life or the world around him, a priest must help him achieve realignment using natural elements (water, fruits, sticks, stones and, very rarely, animal sacrifices).

According to Dr. Yololt González, former President of the Mexican Society for the Study of Religions (part of UNAM’s anthropology department), santería came to Mexico “when…entertainers from Cuba started arriving here in the 40s and 50s due to the film boom. [Film star] Ninón Sevilla was a santera, and so was boxer Ultimillo Ramos.”

To find out about santería, I got in touch with Carlos Sousa, a padrino (godfather) whose father (currently in Cuba performing santería ceremonies) leads a congregation in the south part of Mexico City. Sousa was relatively secretive on the phone and when I asked if there would be drum beatings, chantings and chicken sacrifices, I felt like a tourist seeking the exotic.

According to doctoral candidate Nahayeilli Juárez, santería in Mexico is gaining up to 5000 new adepts per year. “The reasons many people make first contact with santería are related to everyday problems and uncertainties -- illness, love, work, finances," says Juárez, who attributes the increased interest in santería to greater openness toward religion in Cuba and the increasing distance between young Mexicans and the Catholic Church.

I arrived at Sousa’s on Sunday and was welcomed into a small room where 20 people (mostly Mexican women) sat beside a rectangular table that served as an altar. Sousa was dressed in white, his long hair tied in a pony tail and his neck adorned with necklaces, beads and amulets. The attendees sat on plastic chairs sharing jokes and thin Cuban cigars.

A statue of Oshum (the Yoruba equivalent of Greek Venus, the goddess of love, beauty and all things sweet) and those of other African deities shared space with dozens of offerings in various stages of decay: California apples, Cuban cigars, limes, money, bottles of rum, a Milky Way and a large package of Ferrero Rocher chocolates.

“My patron saint is Oshum”, says Santa, a 50-something-year-old Mexican woman. “There have been several times when she has performed miracles for me.” She recalls the days when Oshum saved her house from certain fire and burglary.

“We don’t see santería as a religion everyone should practice… and I have heard of cases where priests, with the instruction from oracles, are asked to reject people… usually because they are seeing this as a fashion or some modern thing to attach themselves to, rather than have a real spiritual affinity to," says Shangó.

Mysticism and the occult are everywhere in Mexico: the cult of the dead, the reported apparitions of the Virgin Mary, the recurring altars to Guadalupe, the many elements of superstition. Santería is Africa’s contribution to this hodgepodge, one that, as seen in Cuba, has managed to amalgamate the ancient traditions of the old world with those of the new.

Peter "Pedro" Gellert

sue-ellen — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 14:27:14 -0700

Pedro Gellert sits in front of a poster of the revolutionary icon Che Guevara. Midmorning light, filtering through the leaves of a potted shrub set beside his living room window, dapples his face. He takes a sip of strong, sweet coffee.

"[The socialist communist movement had] a vision of a society where anyone has an equal right from the word "go". We used to think that a Marxist social revolution in and of itself would eliminate racism, sexism, etcetera. It's more complex than that. Marxism may lay the basis for it, but it's not enough by itself."

You might say that Gellert, who was born in Brooklyn, New York (around 1950 by my math), came into this world a Marxist-Leninist. His parents were communists, as were his grandparents. He was twelve when the Boy Scouts kicked him out for refusing to parrot that his "duty" was to God and for the stash of communist newspapers his grandparents had smuggled into camp for him to read.

Effusive about his political coming of age, Gellert doesn't talk much about the personal details of his adult life. He's been in Mexico "for a long time" but won't say when he came or why. He became a Mexican citizen before Mexico allowed dual citizenship (1998) and is unsure of his status with respect to the US, where he hasn't been in decades.

"I feel completely integrated into Mexican life," he says in English, in an accent that never left Brooklyn. But his accent in Spanish, as well as his taste for coffee -- he drinks 2 liters of syrupy coffee a day -- is Cuban.

That Cuban coffee powers Gellert's hectic schedule: through the activist group Movimiento Urbano Popular, he advocates for Mexico's urban poor; he's the national coordinator for the Movimiento Mexicano de Solidaridad con Cuba; and he files news reports from Mexico for Radio Habana. He's been supporting Cuba, where he's spent considerable time, since at least the early 1990s.

"Cuba is moving ahead," he says. "It's no paradise on Earth, but it's no hell on Earth either." He admires this society that he believes focuses on human need, not profit.

To be a communist in 2007, according to Gellert, is to dedicate oneself full time to the struggle. "There may be hundreds of thousands of [these people]. There may be millions...people who want to fundamentally change society. "Marxism," he asserts, "is still an important reference point in a world full of racial, class and ethnic divides."

Gellert is optimistic about the prospects for the left in the 21st century. "Cuba's isolation has been broken down. Basic social change is back on the agenda," he says, referencing the leftist leaders winning elections in South and Central America.

Gellert has organizing to do, and he gently brings our interview to a close. Today's mission includes a rush hour schlep to Coyoacan for a meeting with representatives from Mexico's leftist political party, the PRD. This is one communist who's in demand.

Havana: slowly complex

sue-ellen — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 13:40:16 -0700

My introduction to Cuba came before I left the Mexico City airport. As I boarded Cubana state airlines, I realized there were no assigned tickets. I headed for a window seat toward the rear, but a flight attendant blocked the aisle at the middle of the plane. I nodded toward the window. She sighed, annoyed at having to explain the obvious; the plane would tip over if passengers sat at the back. I thought that maybe my Spanish was failing me, but, as it turned out this was not an empty threat. Nor was this the only flaw of the Soviet-designed Ilyushin jet. Streams of thick white fog soon began pouring into the cabin from the air-conditioning vents.

I went straight to the exit row, tightened my seat belt, and took a deep breath. I opened the seat pocket. It was empty. No SkyMall. No airline magazine, no airsickness bag. It hadn’t occurred to me how comforting these details of air travel were. I shivered a little, realizing that at 30,000 feet above ground, what really keeps many of us tethered to civilization is the capitalist schwag in the seat pocket.

It had been my goal to see Cuba while Fidel was still alive, and I was full of expectations about the island that had taken a different path, rejecting many of the liberal assumptions about economics, government, and globalism. I was exhilarated to plan a trip to a place forbidden to Americans.

From Mexico, however, the path to Cuba is straightforward. Buy your ticket and go. Instead of Cold War-style restrictions, I found only minor banking inconveniences: you can’t use US credit or ATM cards, and there’s an extra fee to change American currency.

My first night I explored Havana. At dusk the streets fill up with life. Women sit in doorways catching the breeze; bare-chested men lean against cool stone walls. Following the dense streets off the Malecón, the seawall that protects Havana from crashing waves, Havana looks like a city that was abandoned and then re-inhabited years later by twice the number of people. Once-stately residences overflow with multiple families. What paint is left peels off the old buildings. Outside the center, the streets are nearly empty of motor traffic. Occasional antique Cadillac and Dodge cars rumble by. I walked down the middle of an unlit street, squinting into the shadows at its edges, marveling at the feeling of walking through a city frozen in 1959.

During my first days, I moved around inside the tourist bubble. The tourist world is hermetic, with its own infrastructure: tourist cabs, tourist money, tourist police. I would realize later that the system separated locals from tourists. Cubans were prevented from entering the hotels, going to certain beaches, even from entering beach resort cities (Veradero) without a work pass.

It took time and a fortunate encounter before I started to see beyond the preconceptions I had brought with me.

One afternoon, a fellow tourist and I were walking downtown. We asked a local – who happened to be an off duty cop – for directions, and struck up a conversation. That night, we took Pedro out to dinner. The tab, including beers came to about $20 USD. Money is a constant concern in Cuba. In other places, low salaries are balanced by a cheap local market. Not in Cuba. A bag of powdered milk is $6 USD. A pound of meat is $1 to $2. Considering that the average wage is about $10 a month, we had spent two month’s salary on a single meal.

Pedro invited us to visit his family’s house, and I began to see the Cuban government through Cuban eyes. My idealized vision did not die quickly. I argued with my new Cuban friend that there were benefits to his country’s system. He responded by explaining the coordinated local vigilance, where neighbors can turn each other over to the police for graft or illegal economic activity. He told me that his police squad was instructed explicitly to stop black Cubans.

On walls, socialist mottos are painted in bold: “Patria o Muerte,” and “Todo en Linea con Fidel.” More often, though, I heard “la juventud no tiene esperanza” from taxi drivers, the managers of the casas particulares, and even from the hustlers in the street trying to get me to buy cigars, rum, girls, or cocaine. Being a short-term tourist means being a resource. To Cubans, tourists represent both danger and opportunity: a risk that they can get in trouble with the State, and the possibility to make some money.

As a foreigner it is easy to ignore some of the island’s most difficult realities. Short-term tourists don’t have to worry about the being turned in by their neighbors, aren’t limited to the national wage, nor do they have to present a national passport to move from city to city. As much as I wanted to become close friends with Pedro, our circumstances were just too different.

At moments, however, the guarded relationship between us relaxed. On the way back from visiting his family, Pedro brought me to at a restaurant for locals. We each ordered spaghetti that cost about 75 cents. The noodles were bloaty, the cheese crumbled over it was sour and it was served in a plastic bag with water tomato sauce. Pedro looked around. There were no utensils so he took out his laminated national ID, and used it to scoop the noodles into his mouth. I looked through my wallet for a utensil and took out a credit card. After a long day of walking, we ate it all.