Why I'm Not Vegetarian

First of all, I need to start of by saying this is not an anti-vegetarian rant. In many ways, I sympathize with and practice vegetarianism, (depending on how you define vegetarianism - I point I'll get to below.)  I eat very little meat.  My family buys and eats small portions of meat once a week, and we're happy with that.  We would probably be just as happy if we ate no meat at all.  For lent, we are eating no meat (except on Sundays if the occasion arises, which it usually does with our very carnivorous friends and family.)  Lent is hardly a change or challenge.  During normal weeks, we don't miss it or even think of it if we miss our weekly trip to the butcher.  So why don't I just take that easy step and make myself vegetarian?  Here are my reasons.

Vegetarianism is a means not an end.  In its proper context, practicing vegetarianism at times, most of the time or even all the time is a means to accomplish something else - health, religious devotion, saving money, economic improvement, protesting animal abuse, etc.  In their proper context, I consider all of these valid; I would definitely say some of these goals are more important than others, but all have some degree of validity.  But when we define vegetarianism as a practice which is a means to accomplish another goal, it means that there is no such thing as a "vegetarian."  Both a monk and an animal rights activist may practice vegetarianism, but it would absolutely incorrect to lump both together under the category of "vegetarian."  Their reasons have nothing to do with each other, and their manner of living and focus in life are entirely different.

Vegetarianism is something you can do sometimes, and not at others. This definition of vegetarianism (a means to accomplish other ends) is the definition I support. Depending on the purpose, I sympathize with and practice vegetarianism.  This definition allows someone to practice vegetarianism 95% of the time, then eat meat at the family Christmas dinner without feeling they've "lost their (meat) virginity," so to speak; it allows people to practice vegetarianism during religious fasting, and enjoy eating meat again when the feast day comes.

The label "vegetarian" makes vegetarianism an end rather than a means.  I would say most if not all vegetarians start off with something like I described above; they abstain from meat for a specific purpose which is an end more important than the practice itself.  Yet, I  feel that often once people make the leap and finally to call themselves "vegetarian," (note: this is not giving up meat altogether, but actually taking on the label) the relation of means vs. end gets turns on  its head.  Vegetarianism is now the end, and the purpose, and all the other ends (religion, health, animal rights, economy) suddenly become the means to justify being Vegetarian.  A vegetarian trying to convince someone else to become vegetarian (a situation that couldn't happen in the above definition) will give a long list of justifications - "Take your pick," is the message, "so long as you become vegetarian, it doesn't matter what your reason is."

Vegetarian purity. Once someone calls himself "vegetarian," he is committing himself to NOT eating meat pretty much at all costs.  I've seen vegetarians have a whole household running around trying to change the food so they can eat it. If a "vegetarian" eats meat once, they've committed a grave error on a moral level. They're left with the moral conflict of whether they will continue to be vegetarian or give in to their failure and abandon their cause.  Being vegetarian, if you're not careful, can become like a religion in itself.

I probably don't have to say that I'm not a fan of this kind of vegetarianism. Besides the fact that I still haven't heard a compelling reason to give up meat completely (to eat less or even little meat, yes, but to eat no meat, no,) I've never liked the idea of putting my hosts to all sorts of trouble to accommodate my preference.  The most important point is, I see vegetarianism as a means to accomplish more important goals.

I will continue to practice vegetarianism as often as it's necessary or reasonable to do so.  I'll continue practicing vegetarianism many days of my life because meat costs too much; I'll continue practicing vegetarianism during religious fasts to focus on God and give more to others.  On the other hand, for now, I'll continue eating meat when my family feels like it, to celebrate feast days and (usually) when I'm at another person's house and they offer me meat. But even if one day I stop eating meat altogether, I still won't be "vegetarian," because it will still be a means to accomplish another end, and not an end in itself.

Mexico City - Some Scenery from Tacubaya

One of the things I love about Mexico City is the presence of random scenery, sometimes not coinciding with the typical image we have of this city, even for those who know it.  Considering it's the second largest city in the world, and both the most beautiful and ugliest city I've seen (within a kilometer or so of each other), both exciting and boring, monotonous and ever-changing, it's no surprise that there is no "rule" about what kind of interesting scenes you'll find at any given moment.  As a complete side note that I feel like sharing, with a probable population of approx. 400,000 gringos it's the largest community of Americans outside of the USA.

That having been said, the three pictures I'm sharing today are fairly typical to the city, and rather un-random.  But they caught my attention for different reasons.  So here they are:

A former church-turned-museum - the Borough Office for Benito Juarez (near Tacubaya, at Parque Lira)

This is a very common scene in Mexico - an abandoned old church that his been restored far better than many that remain in actual use; the reason is that they have been converted to museums, giving all levels of government, private foundations, artists and the public a vested interest in restoring them.  This particular church was built in 1906, consecrated by a representative of the great Pope St. Pius X.  It was used to serve an adjoining community home - for street kids, I believe - a building which is now a city office.  When the home went out of use some 40 years ago, the church went out of use with it, and was soon turned into a museum.

I found out this information at the demand of my 4-year-old son, who was insistent on knowing why there was no mass being held, and why the church was filled with colourful sculptures of dragons from Mexican folklore instead of saints.  After asking the lady at the desk, and passing the story on to my son, he began to sob loudly.  When he finally calmed down enough to talk, he asked me if we could go find the priest (meaning the one responsible for this church building) and give him money so he could turn it back into a church and have mass there again.

I see this as an "old" church, but in relative terms, it's very new, and served as church building for a brief 60-70 years.  It reminds me of the time when I was visiting a village near my wife's grandpa's farm; when I asked him about the "old church" on the town square, he corrected me and told me that the church wasn't old; he remembered seeing the completion of the church as a child, meaning it was no more than 80 years old - a very recent innovation in the village.

A crucifix with rosaries in a bus

This is actually a fairly mild example of bus decoration; drivers will include anything from crucifixes and saints, to poster girls, and sometimes even both side by side.  I've seen a few buses with statues of Saint Death.  This driver had only the crucifix and rosaries.  Rosaries on the rear-view mirrors of taxis and other cars are pretty commonplace.  I can't speak for this driver, or make generalizations, but I know a number of people who will show many outward signs of Catholic faith like this, but are fairly uninterested in mass and even anti-clerical.  My brother-in-law, for example, will cross himself when he sees a church building or sacred image, or when he hears of that someone has died, and he commonly asks people to pray for him (to God or to the Virgin Mary), but my wife can't remember once that he's attended mass.  He doesn't think much of priests or pastors either - and even less of other churches.  So, he's definitely not atheist, and most certainly couldn't count as Protestant, but does he count as a Catholic?  I think he would say so, and I think, in some sense, I would agree.  But it falls outside of our usual northern paradigm where its not likely that someone who has stopped attending church would continue showing outward signs of religion, with strong dedication.

The Coca-Cola Building (or "Ermita") in Tacubaya

This building is a famous landmark in the heart of Tacubaya. I don't know if there used to be more buildings like this one, but from what I've seen, it's unique in Mexico City - I haven't seen any others of this style.  It was build in 1925 (from what I gathered from a quick google search) and is, as I like to point out to my wife, the "Future of the Past." When they build it, I'm sure they thought it was what the future would look like - a future that, of course, never arrived.  If I understand correctly, the name "Ermita" comes from a previous building on the site, which was a small chapel. ("Ermita" means "Hermitage." - see EDIFICIO ERMITA # 23 ANALOGO or GALERÍA FOTOGRÁFICA | El México de Ayer; both are in Spanish, but they have neat historic pictures of Mexico City even if can't read the descriptions.)

I think the back is a theater, or was a theater, at least.  Right across the road from this building is the only store where I've bought running shoes since I've lived in Mexico; they have great prices on New Balance.  I save my running-shoe shopping for my annual visits to the city.

A Beautiful Ghetto

The narrow street where I lived, typical of La Barona

Last week I stayed in Cuernavaca, with my wife's cousins in a community called La Barona.  La Barona is typically considered the worst neighborhood in Cuernavaca - a city about an hour south of Mexico City.  Back in the 70's there was a time that there was a murder every day, taxi's refused to take people there, and the buses stopped at the first traffic circle - pretty much the only way in and only way back out to the rest of the city.

Since then, this neighbourhood has a complete turn-around, and it's now a pleasant & vibrant family community where you can live comfortably with all the basics within walking distance. I've written about this community before - see A Community Turn-Around Story in Cuernavaca.

An important point is that the bad reputation has long outlived the reality.  Sure, basic common sense and care must still be used.  Yes, the community is generally a poor one; but it's not the ghetto it used to be - it's safe, and, in it's own way, picturesque and beautiful.

The community is a labyrinth of tree-lined streets, alleys lined with colorful flowers and roundabouts with playgrounds in the middle, but where you really can't tell which is the "main street" going in and out. It's also very hilly, with nice views of the nearby hills that separate Cuernavaca from Mexico City, and hide the magical village of Tepoztlan.  There are lots of local small shops that sell everything from fruit and freshly baked bread to appliances, computers and cell phones.  Because of the flowers, the trees, the views and, perhaps most of all, the relaxed lifestyle of the people, the many half-built homes, shops covered with graffiti, the unplanned tangled overhead wiring become a lot less unpleasant.

I've been accused before of liking ugly and off-colour places just to be different; but I can guarantee you that this is not the case with La Barona.  My wife and I lived there for 3 months, and every time we go back, we feel more convinced that one day, in the distant future, it could be a good home for our family.  We feel comfortable and at home there.

One of the nicer houses - this was probably built up, little by little

The bad reputation, though, has some advantages:

• It gives the community a very distinct atmosphere of its own; places that are "quaint" because they were planned to be that way often all end up being the same and somewhat boring.  This place is very down to earth, real and practical.
• It keeps the prices low. Rent is low; $100 USD/month gets you a large house that will need a bit of paint but is fine to live in.  Food is cheap (not quite as cheap as the main downtown market, but much better than other places I've seen - in Cuernavaca or anywhere else.  I've written about a similar theme in The Low Cost of Living in Cuernavaca.)

A typical main street, lined with trees

As I said, it's picturesque in its own unique way.  I'll admit quite readily it's not the place for everyone's taste, but that's true of anywhere.  Here are a few pictures with some comments.

A typical sidewalk - not always practical

Small sports complexes and regular transportation do a lot for the community (not to mention the "boutiques!")

A view of the hills in the distance

Another nicer home

An ally way heading downhill, with hills in the distance

A very narrow ally - there are many of these, and many homes have their only access off of a street like this

Good-bye, Meat!

A Torta Cubana (source: Prone to Wander Blog)

One folk etymology of  the word carnival is that it comes from the middle Latin "carne vale" which means "farewell to meat." So, while I didn't watch any brightly coloured dancers or have any big festivities during Carnival, on Shrove Tuesday, I said good-bye to meat. I ate a huge meat-filled "torta Cubana" (a sandwich like the one in the picture - see Vitamin T - The Mexican Special) and drank a litre of beer ("caguama" is the word they use here in Mexico - see Illegal Immigration - An Alternative Approach and the label "Beer.") and said good bye to both for the 40 days of Lent.

As a side note, this connects to a theme I've been meaning to write about for a while, namely vegetarianism, and my opinion that the proper place of vegetarianism is as means that leads to another end - first and foremost religious, and also health and economy as secondary reasons.  Interestingly enough, the "economics" of not eating meat is actually part of the religious reason; one reason to avoid eating meat (or abstaining from other items) is to save money to give to the poor.  The other part has to do with focusing on God rather than the flesh (the other meaning of "carne.")

Vegetarianism (as I see it) is misled and misleading when it becomes an end rather than the means. But more about that when I finally get around to writing that blog.

In the mean time, good-bye meat and good-bye beer.

[Note on the etymology of Carnival: the more philologically accepted etymology seems to be that it's from Italian "carne levare" which means "putting meat away."  It basically amounts to the same thing.  See - http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=Carnival.]

The Basilica of Guadalupe - A Pilgrimage

The image of the Virgin Mary (not original)

This last Sunday, our family made our first pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.  The Basilica is the site where the Virgin Mary appeared to St. Juan Diego, a native Mexican, during the Spanish conquest. As far as I know the story, she instructed him to tell the bishop to have a church built in her honour on that site.  The bishop refused to believe him until she re-appeared to him, burning an image on his cloak, and giving him roses to take to the bishop.  Roses did not exist in this part of the world, and the bishop knew this; combined with the image burned on the Saint's cloak, the bishop was convinced and began the construction of the church, which took over 200 years, later given basilica status.  The cloak was kept as a relic, and is on display in the New Basilica. The original Basilica still stands, along with several chapels built throughout the centuries. The new, modern Basilica directly beside the old one, dating from the 70s.

My wife and I had visited when we first met, bet I was visiting as a tourist then, only for the sake of curiosity. This time we came for mass, prayer and veneration.  We also bought a few icons. The following are some pictures.  I don't have pictures of the icons, and they are not with me right now, but I'll post more later on.  The image of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the above is a copy of the original; it is not possible to get close enough to the original to take a picture without flash (which is not permitted inside either Basilica), but it is in tact.

My family in front of the Old Basilica

A family - the father on his knees carrying their baby

This is a fairly common sight at the Basilica.  Some pilgrims will approach the New Basilica (the one where the original image of the Virgin of Guadalupe is now located) on their knees.  Some will start at the entrance to the large plaza (500 meters?), others will approach on their knees kilometers before reaching the Basilica.  Those approaching in this way have a special and urgent request from the Virgin Mary.  In the case of the family in this picture, the request is for their baby, and for this reason the father (on his knees) is carrying the baby. He would carry the baby in this way the entire distance.

Devotees of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the Old Basilica

Lighting a votive candle for the Virgin Mary before Mass

 (You can see my one-year-old poking his head out beside me.)

The new Basilica and the old Basilica

Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Fortis, Sanctus Immortalis, miserere nobis.

 "Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, Have Mercy on Us."  The Trisagion prayer, inscribed above the doors of one of the chapels.

Blessed Pope John Paul II

Blessed Pope John Paul II has a fairly strong devotion in Mexico.