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Puerto Vallarta News NetworkTravel & Outdoors | September 2007 

Learning Spanish ... With a Gay Twist
email this pageprint this pageemail usJulia Steinecke - The Toronto Star
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CETLAIC HAS been operating for 20 years and is accredited by the State of Morelos Ministry of Public Education. Cetlalic.org.mx

ARTISTS WHO meet with Cetlalic students include Pascal Roy (PascalRoy.com) and Lina Rodriguez (LinaRodriguez.com)

FOR MORE information on LGBT Cuernavaca, see the last Pink Planet column, "Gay aesthetic enhances great haciendas of Mexican retreat city."
Cuernavaca, Mexico - Our teacher, Lety, is a sturdy butch lesbian with a ready smile. She stands beside a whiteboard and covers it with words and pictures to illustrate Mexico's derogatory but colourful gay and lesbian slang. Mariposa is the word for butterfly and for a gay man. Lesbians are thought to wear only blue jeans, so their nickname is Levis – in Spanish, Livais or quiniento y uno, 501.

I never thought I'd learn these things in a classroom, but this is no ordinary Spanish school. Cetlalic, or the Tlahuica Centre for Language and Cultural Exchange, takes its name from the original inhabitants of the city whose own language is seriously endangered.

The centre was founded in 1987 as an alternative to the mainstream schools that draw thousands of tourists to Cuernavaca.

Cetlalic favours the methods of popular education where rote learning is replaced by participation and dialogue. Special-theme programs run throughout the year, including four gay and lesbian courses.

"Twenty-five years ago, I met Holly Near," says school director Jorge Torres, referring to the American lesbian singer, "and she had a big influence on me."

The staff, most of whom were straight, went to workshops to learn about gay and lesbian realities, and 11 years ago, the first LGBT program was launched. Now, students have options in January (the Winter LGBT Program, which I visited), June (In/Visibility: Lesbian Lives in Mexico and Coming Out: The Gay Men's Experience in Mexico) and September (Opening Doors Gay and Lesbian Program).

The slang we are learning today seems crass compared to the lofty ideals of Cetlalic, but it shows what Mexican gays and lesbians have to contend with.

Lety writes phrases on the board, waiting for us to figure them out.

Le gusta el arroz con popote: "He likes his rice through a straw."

"Blechhh!" say some students, while others laugh.

The discussion ends with us teaching some English slang to the teachers. We go back to our homestays, armed with more insights into Mexican life.

My host is a lesbian who lives with her four dogs in a comfortable house in the north end of the city. We go out to meet her younger girlfriend and my host tells me that at 25, she had a long-term relationship with a 55-year-old woman, so now she's enjoying the other side of an inter-generational match.

Most Cetlalic students choose the homestay option and every morning, I hear them raving about the hospitality, great Spanish conversations and delicious cuisine. In the evening, some agonize about their protective house mothers who want to know what time they'll be home. The school has more than a dozen gay, lesbian and bisexual hosts.

The other students in my program are mild-mannered American gays and lesbians: a couple of retired schoolteachers, a corporate guy who likes to sketch, some activists and a youth worker/drag king.

Most are visiting Mexico on their own, combining education and travel. We all bond immediately and spend most of our free time together, exploring the city, talking politics and laughing.

Most of them speak a halting, correct Spanish, while I blab rapidly, making mistakes everywhere.

We study in open-air classrooms surrounded by gardens of fruit trees and ferns. Students from all the programs learn together by language level. My teacher, Roberto, acts out the words and reveals the subtleties of Mexican culture. I've never had so much fun learning the subjunctive.

Morning classes are followed by afternoon charlas (discussions) and outings. One is to the home of Pascal Roy, a gay Québecois artist living in a sun-drenched villa filled with his paintings. I'm particularly taken with El Cazador, (The Hunter), which shows a child in a shady forest, wearing rubber boots, carrying a butterfly net, surrounded by ghostly blue elephants. We also chat with his friend, Lina Rodriguez, a local lesbian photographer and filmmaker working on a movie about women accused of witchcraft in Spain.

Other speakers come to the school, like Trini Gutierrez, who talks about the history of Mexico's gay and lesbian movements. It's interesting to learn that the very first lesbian group met in the home of legendary activist Nancy Cárdenas, who lived near Cuernavaca.

Little did they know how much their movement would grow and flourish and that someday travellers would journey to this city from all over the world to study Spanish and be part of their gay and lesbian community.

Julia Steinecke's trip was subsidized by Mexico Tourism Board, La Villa Hidalgo and Cetlalic.



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