Expreriencias y reflexiones del trabajo con asociación civíl

COOKING EN C.A.S.A.
Experiences and Reflections
By: Andrina Agnew
Liz Wittmann-Todd
and
Kim Wynne

DEDICATION
We are three students from Washington State who decided to take the opportunity to come to México in order to have a learning experience that stretches beyond the classroom. Over the past two months we have treasured our afternoons spent with the maestras of El centro de apoyo ala salud alternativa (C.A.S.A.), the Support Center for Alternative Health. The following compilation is based on our experiences and memories of Teresa, Benita, Romana, Ester and Monica. Some of these accounts happened collectively, while others were individual experiences. Since we feel that we have worked cooperatively and have a shared understanding of our time at C.A.S.A., we choose topresent our narratives as a collaboration. It would be presumptuous to assume that our accounts come close to capturing the entire essence and workings of C.A.S.A. These are merely glimpses of what the inspirational women have revealed to us. We would like to thank C.A.S.A. for the opportunity to take part in their lives and for giving us wisdom that we will continue to share throughout our own.ON THE WAY THERE
This Thursday afternoon, I headed to C.A.S.A. for my first visit with the Señoras.. Before talking about the world inside of C.A.S.A., I feel it is important to explore the amazing area surrounding it. After getting off at the combi stop and crossing the main road (always a challenge), one enters into the neighborhood and subsequently the lives of its residents. One may wonderwhy the experience is so personal; it is simply the act of walking down a public street. This is true, but the street in this neighborhood is not only a place for cars to drive, it serves multiple purposes: somebody’s sitting room, a store, or a place for kids to play. In a ten to fifteen minute walk I am overwhelmed with a world of lasting imagery. I pass a school, where Mothers are seenhauling their children home for comida. A woman sells soda out of plastic bags and chips with chili sauce, with the hope of catching the eye of the kids who will plead their Mothers for a treat. After the school, there are several mechanic shops, or at least what they appear to be. Volkswagen Bugs are propped up on cement blocks, their insides spilling out and a radio is blaring from somewhereinside the dark garage. Groups of young men stand in a circle outside, staring while I pass by, as if they have never seen a girl before. Once I am at a safe distance, I hear the whistling and the “mamasita’s”. Next, on the right there is an open-air market. Under the pink tents, people sell fruits, vegetables, and burned CD’s. Household appliances among other miscellaneous goods are on displaynext to bags of sugar coated candies. After the market, I pass on a street where women prepare tortillas and beans over a grill outside their front door. They are surrounded by men who are enjoying the moment of food and relaxation before they return to work. An old man in a straw hat leans back in a stool, legs and arms crossed and a far off look in his eyes. A group of young children play ina dirt pile on the sidewalk, turning it into a launching pad for their toy airplane. Their Mother’s voice yells from inside “Hijo! Hija!” over the sound of something cooking, sizzling and bubbling. A cranking noise and the smell of fresh corn tells me that I am nearing a tortillería. I spy a little lady feeding dough into a giant, old machine. Several little boys stand in line, playing abalancing game with their baskets, waiting to fill them up with fresh warm tortillas to bring home for comida. C.A.S.A. is one of the last houses on a dead end road that turns into a grassy field. Kids play hopscotch in front of other houses ordered in a mysterious sequence: 174, 802, 203. C.A.S.A. has a black, metal door with a little window to look out and peer at visitors through. Shards of...