Hoja YEG-GA y Las Páginas Mexicanas Ilustradas
The Mexican Vanguard in Alberta: About Hoja YEG-GA and S.O.
Hoja YEG-GA is one of three carvings that helped launch Project Y150 YEG-GA. The features of this work are quite distinct when compared to other YEG-GA carvings completed and it almost stands as an "archaic stage" for development of the series. The piece began travels with S.O. in Fall 2015, months after she had completed her undergraduate degree at the University of Alberta with a double major in History and Economics. At the time she began her journey with the carving, S.O. was in "immigration limbo" since she had not received the work visa International Students are eligible for in Canada once they finish their degrees. S.O. is from Mexico. Before coming to Canada, she attended the Greengates School (the British International School in Mexico), and in Fall 2016 she began a position with a non-profit organization which addresses the needs of Edmonton's inner-city inhabitants born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. The first set of vignettes reveal a unique International perspective into the Canadian experience, one which is definitely far removed from malicious stereotypes that endeavour to cast Mexicans and Mexican immigrants as drug traffickers, rapists, suspect revolutionaries, or even as the descendants of supposed "barbarous savages" engaged in a daily diet derived from human sacrifice. The rock for the carving was quarried from the environs of Lake Kinbasket, B.C. in August 2014, just at the time the Salmon complete their life cycle journey towards the origins of the Fraser River. The carving is dedicated to graduates of the University of Alberta who treasure their Mexican heritage and the rich history of their own antepasados (ancestors).
Página Núm. 1: La Ilustración de La Memoria Mexicana, 2015
Pan y memoria
October 29, 2015. 12°C
Before I started to participate in Project Y150 YEG-GA, I wanted to learn a little more about Baba Yaga, the Eurasian folklore character who seems to have played such a significant part in the history of my carving. I also wondered how stories about her could be incorporated into my own travel narratives that I was thinking about at the time. After some initial research, I learned that Baba Yaga was a complicated figure: She could either be a villainous obstacle impeding the "natural flow" or current of a heroic quest or a more "benevolent witch" who helped guide a protagonist through a series of complicated and cruel challenges set before him. As I thought about her, I also pondered how my own relationship with Edmonton as an International Student has also been a complicated one. Sometimes I couldn’t be happier to be here, but other times I can’t believe that I left my family, my home and my culture. Holidays tend to be the hardest part of every year, and at the end of October I usually start to think about all of the Day of the Dead festivities in Mexico that I’m missing. My memories are illuminated by past visits to friends and family, building an altar, but mostly, the festive diet of hot chocolate and Day of the Dead Bread. Usually, with the demands of university classes, I could never find a moment to undertake my own Day of the Dead festivities here in Edmonton, but now, because I am currently "on hold" within immigration limbo, I have a lot free time so I decided to create my own personal Mexican holiday in Northern Canada. This first stage of this fiesta was characterized by an attempt to bake my own Day of the Dead Bread, because it always reminds me of my the "super-rainy Halloweens" in my Mexico-City neighborhood and a cultural geography marked by a combination of Day of the Dead altars situated amongst typical Halloween decorations, a familiar hot chocolate space populated by acquaintances, and the larger contours of an enormous metropolis where you are never too old to trick or treat.
Memoria llegada: Día de los Muertos, Edmonton
9:04 PM. October 31, 2015. 9°C
After making the Day of the Dead Bread I decided that if I had the bread why shouldn’t I make an altar too[!]? I thought that by putting one in my partner’s South-side neighbourhood in Edmonton it might spark some interesting conversations about different celebrations throughout the World, although I was also worried that some orthodox cultural enthusiast might "call him out" on cultural appropriation and the colonization of Mexican culture. Because I couldn’t find any of the traditional decorations and flowers you would traditionally use for a Day of the Dead Altar, I decided to use all of the "knick knacks" I brought from Mexico and make some paper Cempasuchil (Marigolds), an essential part of any altar. The two-tiered altar that I made is meant to represent all of the respective elements of the Earth: soil through the flowers and fruit, fire via candles, water in the glass (also provided to hydrate your guests), and the "papel picado" to represent wind. The altar also incorporates features of Catholicism imposed upon the Indigenous peoples in Mexico, hence explaining why the rosaries and religious imagery are found along with the well-known and customary iconography of the sugar skull. After adding some food, candles and salt to ward off unwanted and malevolent spiritual intruders, the altar was ready to welcome past relatives who wanted to come dine with us on their special day.
Memorias-e en el comercio: Granville Island Market
November 15, 2015. 7°C
Because my work permit has not yet arrived I decided to visit my sibling in Vancouver so that the waiting was not completely in vain or "time wasted". When I first arrived on a Sunday at night there was not much that was open so we decided to head to the Granville Island Market since it seemed like a great place to go for a walk and a drink. Ever since we were little there has been a big market culture in our family and now that I have spent considerable time at the Strathcona Farmer’s Market in Edmonton it seems that my love for them has just grown more and more. It is always exciting to see the many vendors and how the products offered change by location and region. It was great to see the huge selection of foreign cheeses as well as the fresh seafood that is otherwise unable in a prairie market like the one at Old Strathcona. In addition, we spent a few hours just looking at the amazing glass blowers and enjoying each others company as we caught up in each others' life.
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Memoria artificial afuera: Sophie's Cosmic Cafe
November 17, 2015. 12°C
If there is one thing both my sibling and I have adopted since moving to Canada and which we both discovered by accident when we spent two months together in Edmonton over the summer is that we have developed a "dinner-loving" culture. This predilection for eating out is probably the result of a combination of cheap food and media consumption as eating outside of home always manages to make me feel like I’m in a television show or a movie. This dinner venue, in particular, seemed to be a homage to the late 1980’s pop culture and a museum collection. From our pink vinyl bench (surrounded by Pee Wee Herman paraphernalia), we could see Coca Cola advertisements, platform disco shoes and favourite t.v. characters like the muppets. The collection of items, I concluded, seemed to represent what it must have meant to be middle class and successful during the late 1900s, the incarnation of the “American Dream” on display in Western Canada.
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Memoria playa, Vancouver
November 18, 2016. 7°C.
My sibling was going to be in class all day so I decided to do some of my own sightseeing. Since the beach was only a few blocks away I thought it was the best place to go for a morning walk. I started walking towards the city, which I could see in the horizon and halfway though my journey I decided that I should dip my feet in the water even though it was only seven degrees outside. I guess I did take into account that the water would be even colder that the weather. After a few minutes and realizing my feet were purple, I decided just sit to around, read and "people watch" until the rain finally drove me away. I found refuge in a coffee shop thankfully only a few blocks away. I think one of the most beautiful things about Vancouver is that you have the coast, mountains and city all in one place. Every time I go there I try to do so many things that I do not actually get the time just to relax and enjoy the extraordinary surroundings.
Memoria chilena: Museum of Anthropology, UBC
12:19PM, August 15, 2016. 7°C.
On the last day of my visit to Vancouver we decided to go to the Museum of Anthropology at UBC because my sibling had stated that he had always wanted to visit but never found someone else who also wanted to go. The amount of material at the museum was overwhelming, and the collection includes huge totem poles, a wide array of canoes and a substantial amount of material stored away in the different drawers that was not only from Indigenous peoples in the area of Canada but also from many cultures around the world. I can say now, with certainty, that we were both in awe. Despite the two hours that we spent there we did not come even close to seeing all of the wonders archived and displayed at the museum. One of the most memorable exhibits that I had a profound effect upon me was an audio mini-installation hidden at the back of the museum called "Songs of the Mothers" (Canciones de las Madres). The recording detailed three generations of female Chilean immigrants in Edmonton. The women addressed their children and provided them with advice for the future while informing them about their past as well. The narratives, remarkably, also documented the changes within the immigrant Chilean family particularly with respect to the use of language. The first generation, for example, provided advice to their children in Spanish. By the third generation, however, the words of female wisdom for children were mostly English with the occasional Spanish words folded into the maternal guidance. As an immigrant woman from Mexico I felt a strange connection to these women that I didn't expect. I began to think about what the future might hold for me and what my friends with Latino backgrounds who grew up in Edmonton possibly had experienced. Overall, I don’t think I can ever forget the words of these Chilean women.
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