J 11 Michele M. Gierck Outside the comfort zone As she slowly became a participant in this rural Mexican culture, Cate Kennedy was reminded of what her own culture has forgotten w eN CAn K' NWY
A member of the microcredit co-operative in Queretaro, and village children. Photos: Ca te Ken nedy world and the characters she breathes so much life into. But in the first chapter of Sing, and Don't Cry the author writes: 'It's h ard not to feel a bit like an amateur anthropologist, observing these vast cultural eccentricities.' Yet it is her observations, h er reflections on Mexican culture and her com parisons with Australian culture, her dry humour, her poetic and at times earthy Australian expression that m ake Sing, and Don't Cry such a refreshing read. At one point she refers to an Oxfam study in which people from URAC microcredit project were asked to rate them selves in a wealth-ranking exercise. The context is rural Mexico, only a few years after the introduction of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), and in spite of all the promises, poverty for the majority of campesinos has increased. On the questionnaire URAC respondents invented three categories in which they identified their financial insecurity, and placed themselves in one of them: those who've got it, the grounddown and the buggered. Kennedy writes: There's a few families around who've 'got it'-usually those who have relatives in the States sending them money. If you've 'got it' you're not exactl y sipping cocktails by the pool, of course. It mea ns you have a stove you run on gas, a house with a few rooms, and indoor plumbing. There's an OK ratio in your family of workers to dependents. Most people, to use the blunt but unsentimental terms of the respondents, are ground down and buggered. You get the picture-vividly. But this is only part of the story. It is the resilience of the people that inspires Kennedy, and the way they continue to celebrate life. At a community fiesta, Kennedy asks a woman why they 'squander' money on fireworks, 'instead of putting it aside for next year's crop, or saving it for em ergencies' 'Well, just for the beauty of it.' 'But it's all over in five minutes,' Kennedy says, 'all gone.' 'Yes,' the woman replies, 'but you're here, aren't you' 'These people survive on so little, and yet they create a whole life, a whole world, with it.' And this is what causes Kennedy to refl ect on the currency of her culture, one in which economics and profit have a higher priority than community, participation and relationships. The scenes and the whole way of life described in Sing, and Don't Cry-the town square, tortillas, conflict, community meetings, dancing, cactus, celebrations and fiestas, stray dogs, the children, as well as the complexity of social and economic woes- bring Mexico richly to life on the page, particularly as the author moves from outsider to participant. Perhaps it is because Kennedy so admires this vibrant 'developing world' culture, one that reminds her 'of what our culture had but has forgotten', that returning home to Australia has, at times, been such hard work. Kennedy has so m any stories to tell, and such a hearty laugh to accompany the telling, that you suspect the book could have been twice the size. Here's a story that isn't in the book. It's December. Kennedy has been working six months in Mexico. She's told, in such rapid-fire language that she grasps only a couple of key words, to make an anuncio de nacimiento. She figures that's a birth announcement to be hung in the office. 'But who's had the baby' she asks a co-worker. 'Jose, Maria y Jesus,' she's told. 'Which community are they from' Her colleague stares at her as if she's crazy. 'From Bethlehem, of course!' While Kennedy admits how difficult returning to Australia has been, she also stresses that the whole Mexican sojourn and the time after it back in Australia opened up a precious space-for reflection, for imagining, for writing. It certainly has provided fertile ground for her literary creativity, and when I ask why, Kennedy responds: 'I think to be a writer or any kind of artist, you need to be outside your comfort zone, to see things with fresh eyes. And most of us are much too comfortable to do this voluntarily. People often tell m e they started to write after a crisis in their life ... They had to write to make sense of it. I'd never felt this before. But after Mexico ... I had so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to share, no audience with whom to share it.' When Barry Scott-of Transit Lounge Publishing, a small independent publisher specialising in 'creative works that give voice to Australian connections to the wider world'-asked if Kennedy h ad anything to suit, she responded positively. Scott said that what drew him to Kennedy's work was the way she writes so beautifully with respect, honesty, and humour; that this book engages with the wider world, and challenges our priorities. Sing, and Don't Cry is a book with spine, a delightful read that will leave you with something to think about. • Sing, and Don't Cry: A Mexican Journal, Cate Kennedy. Transit Lounge, 2005. ISBN Q 975 02281 4, RRP $29.95. Michele M. Gierck is a freelance writer. NOVEMBER- DECEMBER 2005 EUREKA STREET 25
Change language