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.