I've been to Nogales twice. My mom, dad and I went in 1995 when I visited them at Christmas. I really liked it then. It was like being a kid again with my parents roaming all over Europe like we did. At anytime my parents would detour through some rough area of whatever town we were visiting, I've walked through countless protest marches because some musuem was on the other side, I've dropped coins into the cups of homeless mothers and their babies on the street. So it didn't bother me on that trip. I really enjoyed just walking around and looking at all the stuff.
The one thing that did bother me on both trips (I'll get to the second trip soon enough) was seeing how on "our" side of the wall things were relatively clean and not falling apart. But you glance over that wall and you can see the slipshod homes sprawling up the mountain, rickety and falling apart. One good strong wind would knock them over.
So the second time we went I remember being very nervous. This time it was just my mom, Mike and I in 1998. I just remember being nervous the entire time we were there. Like the grim seemed more pronounced. (We bought a couple of those eggs for a friend of mine that collected eggs, that was the highlight of the day.) I think I started to realize that what these people were selling - some of its real junk, others things are really neat (my mom took us in this really neat furniture store) - the junk though is the stuff that is barely putting food on these families' plates. And that bothered me to no end. I just felt so sad and so over-priviledged, I felt so dirty when we finally left.
I would like to go back again though. I would like to go back and just put my fears to ease and remember that if it weren't for tourists like me these people wouldn't have food and that its okay to be a tourist. But its still pretty sad.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2006-03-18 04:16 pm (UTC)The one thing that did bother me on both trips (I'll get to the second trip soon enough) was seeing how on "our" side of the wall things were relatively clean and not falling apart. But you glance over that wall and you can see the slipshod homes sprawling up the mountain, rickety and falling apart. One good strong wind would knock them over.
So the second time we went I remember being very nervous. This time it was just my mom, Mike and I in 1998. I just remember being nervous the entire time we were there. Like the grim seemed more pronounced. (We bought a couple of those eggs for a friend of mine that collected eggs, that was the highlight of the day.) I think I started to realize that what these people were selling - some of its real junk, others things are really neat (my mom took us in this really neat furniture store) - the junk though is the stuff that is barely putting food on these families' plates. And that bothered me to no end. I just felt so sad and so over-priviledged, I felt so dirty when we finally left.
I would like to go back again though. I would like to go back and just put my fears to ease and remember that if it weren't for tourists like me these people wouldn't have food and that its okay to be a tourist. But its still pretty sad.