WORLD OF MASKS

Oddly, it was eight years after moving to Mexico and two years after becoming a citizen here that I began reading The Labyrinth of Solitude by Octavio Paz.

Imagine my surprise to see the famous Señor Paz saying many of the same things about his native land as I have written here the past few years.

As a result, I have inserted some quotes from Paz in a number of the entries below, posts that were mostly written years ago. It´s good to have backup.

This was not the first time my observations have been supported by native residents, but it´s the first from a Nobel laureate.

Courtesy is our Great Wall of China. -- Octavio Paz.

May he rest in peace.

(Note: This photo is not Octavio Paz. It is a mask.)

Mexican cops

Mexican police, of course, have a shady reputation.

However, after almost eight years of living here, I have never had a negative experience with a cop.

There are traffic cops, both city and highway, and there are crime cops. Normally, their duties do not overlap.

A crime cop doesn´t care if you drive the wrong way on a one-way street or run a red light. That´s not his kind of crime. Generally, the crime cops are tougher customers than traffic cops.

I´ve never crossed paths with crime cop.

Generally, if you don´t do something stupid, you will not encounter a crime cop either.

The few times I´ve spoken with traffic cops, they have been quite helpful and cooperative.

One situation in which the crime cops will enter the traffic realm is if a fatality is involved. Then the brown shirts of the traffic cops can change to the black shirts, Colt .45's and submachine guns of the crime cops. Best to avoid.

Drive carefully in Mexico, and always have insurance. Always.

Mexico is trying to improve itself, and it is doing so in many ways. The legal system, however, has a long way to go, not just the cops, but lawyers, judges, the court system. No jury trials exist. Neither does an open court, though that´s set to change in 2016.

The legal system is still influenced to a great degree by bribes and personal influence. Avoid the legal system when you can.

Highway lunacy

They are building more autopistas here. That is good. They are making them just two lanes. That is bad.

Autopistas are the toll superhighways that are the only way to get from one spot in Mexico to another without spending all day getting there.

It seems that up until very recently, these key routes were four-laners, as any sane person would build them. Two lanes going your way, and two lanes going the other way. Passing is easy. Slower traffic keeps to the right.

Here is how the new ones are being built, to save money no doubt. More for the politicians´pockets. It has one real lane going your way, and one real lane going the other way. And, the paved shoulder is a broad one, about half the width of a normal lane.

Half the width.

But our highway engineers want you to pretend the shoulder is another lane. And the locals are accustomed to doing just that. Yours truly actually spotted a sign the other day on a new two-lane autopista that said: Slower traffic use right lane.

But, there is no right lane! Just the shoulder of the highway.

So, as you are tooling down the highway at about 15 mph over the speed limit, you look into your mirror and see José bearing down on you at Mach 3. There is traffic coming toward you from the other direction, of course. That, or you are on a curve, or cresting a hill.

José edges up to within about a foot of your rear bumper. You are driving, of course, about 70 mph, too pokey for José.

You are expected to careen over on the shoulder at your high speed. If you do that, you are half on the shoulder, half still on the highway. There is traffic barreling down the oncoming lane. Mach 3, too.

No matter. José floors it, and with the half lane he has, and a half lane on the other side that he hopes to bully himself into, sending the high-speed oncoming traffic partially onto their shoulders, he finally gets by you, almost scraping your paint.

Of course, he could wait a few moments till the oncoming lane is clear, or you both get around the curve. But José has no patience for that. He wants what he wants. Right now, and to Hell with others.

* * * *

What must be the Oscar-winning entry in the Highway Lunacy category is this:

A left-turn signal blinking on the vehicle just ahead of you can mean one of two things. 1. The driver is going to turn left. Or 2. The driver is signaling you to pass him.

That is correct. Two absolutely contrary events. I tend to see this as Latin American life in a nutshell.

Go, team!

Life here is like high school!

1. Rampant gossip.

2. People are quick to get embarrassed, especially women who appear to live in a nearly perpetual state of pena.

3. The tough rule the roost. In high school, that´s the football guys. Here, it´s just tough guys in general, and you better watch your step.

You may get a pummeling beneath the stadium seats.

4. Cliques are important. It´s not what you know but whom you know. It´s especially good to know lawyers and tough guys.

5. Lots of flirting.

6. Lots of jealousy.

7. Everybody drives like a teenager. Outa my way!

8. Lots of testosterone.

9. Lots of estrogen.

10. Rampant self-absorption. How teen is that?

Sis-boom-bah! Rah-rah-rah! Go, Tacos!

Salt and pepper

Often there is no salt shaker on a restaurant table in Mexico. And you will see a pepper shaker even less, almost never.

Who would notice salt or pepper on food that is doused with chile salsa? You usually will find chile salsa on the table. If not, they will bring it to you in a flash. Two salsa options: red and green.

But salt and pepper? Nah.

No newsracks

If there is a newsrack like one of these in Mexico, I´ve never seen it. I doubt they exist.

My wife has one theory, and I have another. She says there is no need for newsracks because people sell newspapers on the street by hand, one way or the other.

She is correct in that, but I do not believe that is why there are no newsracks. In part, because there are newsstands in the United States too, plus people sell them on the street.

Still, there are newsracks all over the place, often too many.

Here is my theory about why there are no newsracks, and God will strike me dead if I am wrong.

Were a full newsrack to appear on a Mexican street, someone would immediately drop a coin, grab all the newspapers, and sell them on the street, pocketing the profits.

A newsrack here would only be left on the street by fool.

Ignorance of money

It is common to have your paper money rejected due to some small tear or blemish.

This can happen with old ladies selling tortillas on the sidewalk or in modern department stores. Can happen anywhere.

This annoyance is due to the widespread and ignorant belief that it is the actual paper itself that has value, as if it were a gold coin, not simply the paper symbol that it is.

El Banco de Mexico, the central bank of the nation, says on its website that a bill holds its value if it has over 50 percent of his surface or, if the folio number is missing, at least 80 percent of its surface.

Feel free to mention that the next time some dunce says your bill is no good due to a tiny tear.

Gone missing

It is a rare Mexican hotel in which you will find a wash cloth in the bathroom.

Mexican homes too.

Be sure and bring your own.

No hanging chads

Americans who move to Mexico sometimes cite their unhappiness with the U.S. political climate.

This usually means they are put out with the Republican Party. A recent survey in the Gringo expat haven of San Miguel de Allende indicated Democrats outnumber Republicans 10-to-one.

This is a textbook case of leaping from the pot into the fire.

Or, it used to be. Okay, it still is to a great degree.

Mexico, for most of the 20th Century, was ruled by the Institutional Revolutionary Party, or PRI. These were a bunch of clever guys who lined their pockets famously for seventy years.

They finally over-reached, miscalculated and lost the presidency in 2000 to Vicente Fox of the conservative National Action Party, or PAN. I have always voted Democratic in the U.S., but in Mexico I am a diehard PAN man. The party is Mexico´s best hope.

This was an easy decision because in the last election, the leftist candidate of the Democratic Revolution Party, or PRD, exhibited an alarming messianic fervor. He is also uncomfortable with democracy, which he favors only if he wins. His followers concur.

Do not make the common error of thinking these two parties somehow resemble the Democratic and Republican parties in the U.S. They do not.

Mexico has moved from rotten elections to an open system that has been praised at length by international watchdog organizations. Our elections are more straightforward than those in the U.S. We have a totally new system run by an independent agency, the Federal Election Institute.

Every polling station has watchers of the main parties on site. The ballots are big paper sheets on which you mark your X's in private. You fold the ballot and insert it in the ballot boxes which are see-through.

At the end of the day, the ballots are taken out and counted at each polling station with opposing party representatives looking on. The results are posted on a big sign outside each polling station for everyone in the neighborhood to see.

These individual polling station results are then phoned into a national center where they are totaled, again in the presence of party-watchers. It is clean. It is accurate.

We have moved from darkness into light. Unfortunately, attitudes are slow in changing. Much of Mexico, especially the masses of poorly educated, do not believe things have changed.

The Federal Election Institute and clean elections are very recent arrivals here. So close you can touch them. This means those Gringos who want to move south due to U.S. politics now may really be moving to a cleaner political world.

State and local elections, however, are sometimes another matter. Change is coming slowly to our troubled land. But, it has its foot firmly through the door.

(2008 Note: Due to political pressure from the parties that lost the 2006 presidential election, Mexico is playing around with the electoral system, a supremely lousy idea. It worked fine.)

The movie set

Most Gringos who live in Mexico have moved directly onto a movie set.

The bougainvillea drapes over garden walls, and parrots squawk in cages.

Meanwhile, beyond the decorative gate, is the world of deep troubles, intrigue, double-crossing and messy romance.

From my direct experience, few Gringos speak passable Spanish, and without Spanish you can never know this darker, more interesting world. You stay in your Glitz Ghetto.

Even if you do speak Spanish, know that Mexicans are masters of disguise. Deception is a wicked word, so let´s stick with disguise.

There is another requirement to exit the movie set: A deep well of perceptivity on your part, which is rare.

But, this is okay. Most of us love the movies, and here is your chance for a plum role. Relax and enjoy. These, after all, are your Golden Years. Forget reality.

The highwaymen

While the Army is out hunting narcos and gunrunners, one wonders what the traffic cops are up to.

They flop at maintaining safety on the highways, which are littered with crosses and memorials to the dead.

Not only are they lame at halting highway mayhem, they often can´t even keep the roads open.

If some disgruntled group, peones or students, wants to make a point, a favored method is to blockade a street or highway. This can last for hours and serves absolutely no valuable purpose.

The police often don´t even bother to show up. And when they do, they watch. Nothing more. The federal highway patrol is particularly guilty of this.

My lovely wife tells me this is how Democracy is understood here. Individual freedom! Alas, this means a minority can oppress the majority, which is the way things have been here for centuries.

The potty problem

The Mexican sewage system has a history of problems, but times are changing, especially in urban areas.

It was long required that the potty-sitter wipe himself with toilet paper, horsetail, corncob, etc., and then deposit said material in a nearby trashcan.

Many Mexicans still do this, even when it is not necessary. But habits die hard, and this is one of them.

We recommend that you simply drop the paper in the toilet bowl in public places unless there is a sign that indicates otherwise. In a home, check next to the toilet for a trash can. If it´s there, use the trash can instead.

Here at the Ranchito, it all goes down the pipes.

A related issue is this: Why must you hold the handle down to flush Mexican toilets?

I mean hold it down until the flush is all done.

You cannot just push the handle and leave. You have to stand there and hold it down till the entire operation is finished.

This is the case in 95 percent of Mexican toilets I have seen. Why?

If you peek into the tank, it looks exactly like it does north of the border, the same apparatus.

This is a mystery.

The border invasion

There is a crisis of lawlessness along our borders.

Nowhere else exist touching nations so economically and culturally at odds.

You Gringos can come here. Why can´t we go there?

Well, we can. We just need to get permission first. All countries require permission to visit, including our Mexico Lindo.

But, a Mexican visa is easy to get, and the U.S. visa is so hard.
It´s just not fair! Where´s the Justice?

The United States economy is the most productive in the world. Millions of foreigners would love to move to the United States and earn money, thus the stiff requirements to enter.

Nobody much wants to move to Mexico, mostly foreign retirees looking to take advantage of the lower cost of living. The visa requirements cannot be made comparable.

Some Mexicans sneaking into the United States illegally are needy. Many, however, are not. Some just go for a lark. Others are living okay here, but they simply want more!

I know some of these people personally. Some are relatives. Some are acquaintances, or relatives of friends.

A large chunk of Mexicans sneaking into the United States simply want bigger houses, nicer cars, sharper clothes. They live adequately in Mexico, but they harbor that human emotion of wanting more, much more.

They do not go to bed hungry, but they lack access to Thai take-out, Broadway shows and the latest Toyota Tundra. They want these things! Television inspires us.

Many Mexicans live like rural Americans of the 1920s and earlier. They work long, hard hours, and they live humbly, often in simple homes they built themselves. Or in homes their ancestors built. This is a issue of perspective. They live in another era.

Mexico is not Chad or Somalia. There are no buzzards circling starving children squatting on the desert sands.

So, temper your visions of the wretched masses having no choice but to invade your country without permission. Many do not have broad choices. But many do, but it´s pretty simple to sneak north if you can pay the transportation arrangers.

There are other routes, too.

Most do not trek long, parched, distances through the desert. There is a thriving international transportation network available.

The most wretched and needy often are simply passing through Mexico from Central America and points south. Many of these people are indeed in need, and Mexico abets this migration, alas.

But these folks are the minority.

Hadrian´s Wall?

Being a citizen of both the United States and Mexico, I find myself on the proverbial horns of a dilemma.

Mexico´s economy is propped up to a great degree by cash sent down by gate crashers in the United States.

On the other hand, a porous border with Mexico is culturally, economically and politically damaging to the United States.

The following is from a column by Charles Krauthammer, a journalist-physician-commentator and smart guy:

"A barrier is a very simple thing to do. The technology is well tested. The Chinese had success with it, as did Hadrian.

In our time, the barrier Israel has built has been so effective in keeping out intruders that suicide attacks are down more than 90 percent.

Fences work. That's why people have them around their houses -- not because homeowners are unwelcoming but because they insist that those who wish to come into their domain knock at the front door.

Fences are simple. They don't require much upkeep. Two fences with a patrol road between them along the length of the U.S.-Mexico border would be relatively cheap, easy to build and simple to maintain.

The final argument against fences is, of course, the symbolism. We don't want a fence that announces to the world that America is closed.

But this is entirely irrational. The fact is that under our law, America is indeed closed -- to all but those who, after elaborate procedures, are deemed worthy of joining the American family.

A fence announces to the world that America is closed to . . . illegal immigrants. What's wrong with that? Is not every country in the world the same? The only reason others don't need such a barrier is that they are not half as attractive as America, not because we are more oppressive or less welcoming.

Fences are ugly, I grant you that. But not as ugly as 12 million people living in the shadows in a country that has forfeited control of its borders."

(Note: Those who equate a barrier on the U.S.-Mexico border with the Berlin Wall are disingenuous. The Berlin Wall kept people in. It was a prison wall. A wall along the U.S. border would keep people out, those who would enter illegally. There is no similarity.)

Public sips

You will sooner wake up naked in the arms of Angelina Jolie (or Brad Pitt if that´s your inclination), than you will encounter a drinking fountain in Mexico.

If you are out and about, and thirsty, you have to buy a bottle of water.

That´s right. No drinking fountains. Anywhere.

Jell-O everywhere

One might think that flan or arroz con leche would be the preferred dessert in Mexico.

But, it´s not.

It´s Jell-O, which you find in every nook and cranny of Mexico.

Want dessert? Get ready for Jell-O, like it or not. I don´t.

Let´s have a blast!

We Mexicans love our noise, er, I mean music.

Folks who want to play music in their homes love to share with the entire town.

A Mexican stereo knows two positions: Off and Full Blast.

Our next-door neighbors once threw a party for one of their adolescent relatives. They erected in their small backyard a sound stage that would have been appropriate at an Elton John extravaganza in the Superdome.

Thankfully, this party began in mid-afternoon and ended around 10 p.m. We had to flee the house for most of that time. The din was deafening. The walls were shaking. Our heads pounding.

The plaza, a block and a half away, is sometimes the scene of similar events, but on a grander scale. And they can run into the wee hours of 2 a.m. or so. We sleep with earplugs on those nights.

On New Year´s Eve, some of our neighbors put huge speakers outside their houses, and blast music all . . . night . . . long. Yes, past sunrise the following day. Without a pause.

We leave town on New Year´s Eve.

Fireworks: And then there are explosions! This takes the form of things that are launched into the sky to explode. The preferred hour for this is 6 a.m. or so.

However, the explosions can happen anytime, anywhere. Often there is live musical accompaniment.

It´s always a good time for a blast.

On occasion, one hears of clandestine fireworks factories erupting with near-nuclear force, wiping out entire city blocks.

One must suppress an unkind chuckle.

Where´s the dressing?

There is no salad dressing in Mexico.

Well, not much. You may find some in high-end establishments. But the overwhelming majority of regular restaurants serve your "salad" dry.

You are expected to squeeze lime juice on it and be happy. I´m not.

A weird little town in Mexico

San Miguel de Allende is the odd man out on the Mexican landscape.

What makes it strange is that it has more Gringos than flies on a dead coyote. You can live there quite easily without learning any Spanish . . . or troubling yourself with cultural differences.

Little nuisances like that.

It´s a great place to live if you want to "live in Mexico" without actually living in Mexico. Living in Mexico requires some effort and sacrifice. It´s a gritty place. Gringos who move to San Miguel don´t want any of that effort-and-sacrifice business.

And, of course, no grit.

We hear tell there are about 8,000 Gringos in the city, which has about 80,000 people total. But their number does not reflect their immense influence, good and bad.

San Miguel is a beautiful place, has most services Gringos are used to, plus great restaurants, art galleries, theaters and self-improvement classes of every stripe.

It´s a good landing spot for Gucci Gringos and aging hippies.

In a recent Conde Nast Traveller magazine poll, it was Number 4 on a list of great places to live in the Americas. That´s all of the Americas. It bested everywhere in the United States.

It´s a matter of taste, one supposes.

(Note: The area around the town of Ajijic on the shore of Lake Chapala is pretty much the same arrangement. However, the Gringos there tend to be less artsy-craftsy than what you encounter in San Miguel. More meat-and-potato folk.)

The crappy economy

Mexico is a beautiful land of natural resources and hard-working people. Yet, the economy struggles.

Why are there so many poor people here? We Mexicans only need to look in a mirror to see the culprit.

A vibrant economy requires a trusting citizenry, and that we utterly lack. Distrust and suspicion reign. Mexicans lack faith in one other. This, plus corruption, torpedo the economy.

Yes, we routinely shoot ourselves in our collective feet. This is not a strictly Mexican problem. Most of Latin America is the same. Thank Spain.

We have scant sense of the Common Good. We feel no urge to help our neighbor. A thriving neighbor inspires envy.

Commonly heard: We don´t offer each other a helping hand, just a kick in the butt.

Over the years, I have heard the phrase Somos rateros countless times. Loosely translated, that means: We are ratfinks. Mexicans dearly love "Mexico," but we don´t much like other Mexicans.

In spite of this, the economy in Northern Mexico, which abuts the United States, is noticeably improving due to influence from the Colossus of the North. Southern Mexico, distant from the United States, remains in the economic doldrums, a near-dead zone.

Northern Mexico reflects the positive U.S. economic influence. Perhaps a sense of trust is part of the aid package. Let us pray so.

You encounter people here, exclusively uninformed leftists, who blame the United States for our economic problems. Quite the opposite is true.

The economic problems in Mexico can be traced directly and completely to the attitudes of the people.

The colonial world has disappeared, but not the fear, the mistrust, the suspicion. -- Octavio Paz.

Murder, he wrote

Before moving to Mexico at the age of 55, I´d never known a single murdered person, nor had I any connection to one.

Getting murdered in Mexico, however, is not that rare an event, sadly.

Two of my Mexican wife´s brothers have been murdered. Two separate events with no connection at all.

One was shot dead by a lunatic adopted brother. The other, a policeman, was shot dead on the street by some malcontent.

The father of one of my brothers-in-law was shot dead as he responded to his doorbell one night. It was believed to be an error. Apparently, the bad guy was really gunning for the dad´s brother with whom he had some quarrel.

The brothers resembled one another, it is said.

And if you don´t get murdered, and you likely won´t, there are other common ways of meeting your maker prematurely. You can simply drop dead in your 40s, as has happened in the past year, to two friends of one of my sisters-in-law.

Or you can die in childbirth in your early 30s, as happened to my wife´s mother. Maybe she would have been one of those hard-ass mothers-in-law. But I doubt it. Consider her daughter.

There´s lots of death on the highways, too. The byways are strewn with little crosses and tiny shrines to traffic fatalities. The 12-year-old daughter of a friend of my wife´s died in a car wreck not too long ago. This is not surprising.

See the Highway lunacy posting above.

However, before moving south, I did know three people who committed suicide. Nobody here seems to commit suicide.

I guess they just get murdered first.

We kill because life -- our own or another´s -- is of no value.
-- Octavio Paz.

Focusing on Numero Uno

We Mexicans lie a lot.

Consider the country´s history. It´s filled with revolutions, murder, corruption, mayhem and major economic difficulties.

Of those, only corruption and economic difficulties remain as major players, but effects of the past are still with us.

Where life is uncertain, one tends to focus on Numero Uno. And that means suspicion of others. And that means being careful of what you say.

If you always say things people want to hear, you´ll likely avoid problems in the present. The future? It can just wait. With luck, it will never arrive.

What this attitude means is that responses to about any query is what the individual thinks you want to hear, regardless of its connection to reality.

Virtually all yes-or-no questions that directly involve the person being queried will be answered with a yes.

The exception to this would be if the "positive" response is no. "Are you planning to kill my family, Pablo?" Of course not, señor!

All of which means you can´t put much faith in what you hear.

Lying plays a decisive role in our daily lives. -- Octavio Paz.

You don´t concern me

We Mexicans often are rude.

Yes, we kiss and shake hands a lot. But when it comes down to basic consideration for the feelings of others, especially folks we don´t know, we´re thoughtless more often than not.

Here are just two examples: driving and waiting in line. There are lots of others, however.

On the street or on the highway, the foremost attitude is, "What I want to do is more important than what you want to do."

You can be driving down a highway at a reasonable speed, and someone will approach from behind driving as fast as possible, as usual. And then he discovers that you are in his way!

You may be on a two-lane highway with no shoulder to speak of, but no matter! He wants you out of his way! If he cannot pass, he will start flashing his lights at you so that you can . . . well, who knows? Sprout car wings and fly perhaps.

Careening off the cliff to your right would be okay. Whatever it takes to eliminate you from his onward trajectory. No matter. Drop dead. Get out of the way. That´s the attitude.

Wait till the coast is clear to pass? Ha! Forget that.

Waiting in line: A local will almost always try to butt ahead of you. A friend of mine once was in an emergency room, his leg bleeding from a dog bite.

He was waiting his turn behind another injured person. In strides someone, not bleeding anywhere, and she barges ahead of my friend to get first attention. This is not rare.

In the interest of fairness, I must say that except in the case of motorists the rudeness does not seem intentional. It appears that they simply view other people as annoying speed bumps on life´s highway.

It is as if other people do not exist.

The individual Mexican as a rule thinks much about his own rights and is always ready to assert them. But he does not think so much about the rights of others. -- Dictator Porfirio Díaz (1830-1915)

(For more on the unimportance of others, see item on Crappy Economy up this list.)

Under the table

A recent study of world corruption listed Mexico as only moderately corrupt.

The two least corrupt Latin American nations were Chile and Uruguay.

I have lived in Mexico for over eight years and have never been asked for a bribe.

But I once offered one at the telephone office, and was politely turned down. Things are improving.

That was in my first year here. I would not do it now.

The phone was installed in a timely manner.

Getting things done in the legal system is often a question of whom you pay off quickest. There are no jury trials. Everything is decided by a judge who, in most cases, simply receives written arguments from competing sides.

And then he decides in private. There is no open court. This system begs for payoffs, of course, which is why it was designed that way in the first place. Thank those sneaky Spaniards.

Our new presidente, Felipe Calderón, hopes to reform this. He advocates a legal system that more resembles that of the United States. Wish him luck.

His reform list is long. With reason.

Surrounded by suspicion

We Mexicans are suspicious.

Up against the wall! Assume the position, and spread ém.

A cop corraling a miscreant? No, just a poor sap trying to go home after a shift at CostCo, that Gringo superstore.

But run here by Mexicans. Indeed, our version is 50 percent Mexican-owned.

Walking down a hallway at the Morelia store recently, I passed an office where an employee was being frisked.

It was not the first time. Yes, in Mexico you can´t just go home when you finish work. Sometimes you have to undergo a thorough pat-down.

Other retail businesses also routinely frisk employees at the end of the day.

And why is this? Rampant suspicion.

Mexicans do not trust each other. A Mexican teacher at a language school in Morelia told me that in 2000.

I, probably like you, grew up trusting about everybody unless someone gave reason not to. In Mexico, one trusts virtually nobody unless an individual gives reason to do so.

This plays a huge role in the weakness of the economy. Economies are built to a large degree on faith. There is little faith here, except the faith that someone is going to take advantage of you.

Pay for something with a check? Forget about it. Not unless it´s cashed first.

When you pay cash in a store with a bill greater than about $10, the cashier usually marks it with a special pen to see if it´s phony.

My wife and I once were checking out of a hotel near Taxco. The clerk asked us to hold on a second so she could see if we´d stolen anything from our room.

She didn´t say that, of course, but that was clearly what she was doing.

My wife thinks it's nuts to leave cash plus tip on a table restaurant, and then walk out. Another customer will steal it, she says.

Suspicion is everywhere.

Our relationships with other men are always tinged with suspicion. -- Octavio Paz.

The friendly myth

We Mexicans are sooo friendly!

You hear this a lot, and nothing could be less true.

Throughout history, Mexicans have dealt with war, revolution, rapine, robbery and violence. This has made them cautious and suspicious.

Alas, most visitors and even Gringos who have lived here for years buy into the friendly myth because Mexicans do give them the face you see in the photo here.

Mexicans, however, rarely give this face to a Mexican stranger. Just to you, amigo. Only to you.

And why is this?

1. Mexicans rarely meet a foreigner. Doing so is a great treat.

2. Gringos are all rich and gullible. Getting money is a real possibility if you smile broadly at them. Be their buddy!

These two things cause the friendliness myth.

We do live in what appears to be a "friendly" world, artificial though it may be. See "The Movie Set" item above.

Pay attention to how Mexicans treat Mexican strangers. Usually with glum stares.

(A Mexican´s) face is a mask, and so is his smile. -- Octavio Paz.

Counting the Days of Our Lives...

We Mexicans are funny with numbers.

You wake up on Monday morning, and you´re looking at the week ahead. It has five days of toil and two days of weekend.

But in Mexico, we add on another day. It´s a nameless day, a secret day, only peeking out in Spanish conversation.

In Mexico, when something occurs once a week, it happens "every eight days." And the odd thing is that if something happens every two weeks, it´s not every 16 days as it should be if the week consists of eight days, but it´s every 15 days!

So, if it´s every two weeks, one mystery day recedes, and the other remains. Maybe the mystery days feel antipathy, one for the other, and won´t show up in the same Spanish sentence.

And . . . there´s more.

If you water your flowers, for instance, every other day, that´s every other day, right? In Mexico, you´re watering those flowers "every three days."

I count watering flowers, or whatever, every other day as every two days. But Mexicans don´t see it that way.

* * *

(This website was last updated on July 14, 2008.)