Racism: inevitably a part of our lives

I was on my way to the gym when I heard on the local news something that made my blood boil: Rigoberta Menchú, winner of the 1992 Nobel Peace Price and candidate to the presidency of Guatemala, was kicked out of the Mexican hotel "Corel Beach" in Cancun, because, according to the hotel guards, she was a "jewelery seller". Rigoberta's part of the story, though, is more credible. She says that she was victim of men favoritism and racism, and that because she looks (proudly) like a native American person she gets "special treatment".

Legally speaking, the hotel did nothing wrong because they just asked her to leave, and actually, if it was a misunderstanding, it's quite understandable. Why on earth should Corel Beach accept traveling salesmen in their hotel? It's also quite understandable from the salesmen's point of view, since who would want to buy their products? Tourists. And where do tourists stay? Hotels. And would tourists go to places like Cancun if it weren't for the traveling salesmen? Probably not to the extent they are right now! This makes a circle, one that the Mayan governors once tried to hide from their people:

The proletarian can't live without the proletariat.
Hotels can't live without tourists - Tourists can't live without salesmen - Salesmen can't live without hotels (because there would be no tourists).

So weren't the Mayan people the first to classify a part of their society as inferior? Didn't they held the working class as the one of the lowest possible class you could belong to?
So is it, in a way, the Mayan's fault that they are victims of racism?
It gives you something to think about, doesn't it?

P.D.: I by NO MEANS agree with what Corel Beach did, I think it was an exponential form of racism that cannot be justified in any way (after all, did anyone see Rigoberta making any business? Selling any jewelery? Offering herself to make "trenzitas" to anyone?), yet, I do find racism highly ironic in this case.

Thank you, Ms Fashion hater

On my flight from New York to Dallas, I was sad. Not only did I need to choose a career in less than a year time, but also was I going back to school in a little more than a week. I was also feeling really homesick, and I wasn't going to be home in approximately 5 days.
When I got to my aunt's house, I ran to whom every every single kid in the world loves: the TV, where I watched some boring programs like "Shaq's Big Challenge" and "The Price is Right", but some pretty amusing stuff too like "Two and a Half Men" and "Just for Laughs". One night on my trip to Wal-Mart I saw a movie that I had been wholeheartedly recommended by one of my best friends: Devil Wears Prada. So I dropped 19 bucks for it and watched it. To make a long story short, the book-to-movie adaptation is about a graduated journalist girl who wants to make it to the top in New York but is stuck being no more than a fashion magazine assistant (by the way, the movie is amazing and the acting is great, I really recommend it unless you are a bullet-action-and-killing freak). So anyway, that's when it came to me. I've been considering journalism as a possible career for quite some time now, but I thought there was no way I could reach the success I had in mind here in Mexico. Sure, there are some quite big publications here, but nothing "Time Magazine" big.
"As one door closes, a million more open". That's the case here with me. I closed my career options door, and I opened all of my college opportunities doors. And you know what? I feel a lot better than I did in that plane to Dallas.