Showing posts with label Mexican family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mexican family. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

On the Flanks of Ajusco Volcano: Fiesta, Family and Much More

The response of Jenny's readers to the recent post about buying embroidered cushion covers from Chiapas was delightful, but it also aroused no little angst: How on earth was I to come up with another tale so grounded in our everyday experience of interacting with Mexico's ordinary people?

Oh, me of little faith! To my astonishment, another remarkable story has unfolded over the last couple of weeks. It all started as I was standing in line at Santander Bank waiting to make a deposit. Suddenly behind me, I heard a distinctly Mexican voice tentatively ask, "Señora Jenny?"

I turned to see a tall Mexican man smiling at me:
"Excuse me," I said, "I don't remember you. How do I know you?"
He told me that in early January he had driven me back from Médica Sur. Then I remembered!
"¡Qué milagro!" — "What a miracle!" I exclaimed, and I meant it.
The truth is I'd been trying to find him for the last couple of weeks. Ever since our visit to Tepoztlán, we've wanted to visit Ajusco Volcano, which is the mountain range separating the Valley of Tepoztlán from the Valley of Mexico [Mexico City], but I couldn't find the card given to me by the taxi driver who'd told me he lives there.

Later, he'd tell me that it was the first time he'd been in that bank. Walking by with his wife, he decided he could get his banking business done in that branch ... on that day. What's equally weird is that Santander isn't my bank either. I was only there to make a deposit in payment for a purchase!

Yes, he was indeed the driver of the taxi I'd hailed on my way back from a doctor's appointment. The way back to Coyoacán features a dramatic view of Ajusco, which rises improbably behind Mexico City's sprawling modernity.

On a Clear Day You Can See Ajusco Volcano, Southeast Mexico City
Photo: Jenny, leaning out of bedroom window and twisting left, south

In that first encounter, I remember remarking to the driver how beautiful and dramatic Ajusco is.
"We live there, on the side of Ajusco," he'd replied.
"You're kidding," was my delighted reaction. "My husband and I want to visit, but we need a guide. It's not somewhere to be visited without someone who knows the area." 
"I would be delighted to drive you. I'd like you to meet my wife, she's involved with tourist activities," he instantly replied.
That's how it started. When we arrived at our building, the driver gave me his card, which I somehow managed to misplace; hence, my two-week search trying to locate him now, three months later.

After I made my bank deposit, I waited. Writing on the bank's counter, I got his name, Carlitos, and telephone numbers: both cell phone and house line. When we got outside, I met his wife, a lovely woman who seemed slightly baffled, but friendly.

All through the week, I kept checking the weather, which through Saturday was monotonously the same: Clear with 10% Chance of Rain. Sunday's forecast was also stubbornly consistent: Cloudy with 30% Chance of Rain. No matter how many times I checked, the forecast stayed the same.

Finally, Reed and I just kind of looked at each other and said, "Let's go anyway." So I called Carlitos, and we arranged for him to pick us up at 11:00 AM Sunday morning.

Sunday: Cerro de Ajusco

Sunday morning dawned clear. Just a little after 11:00 AM, Carlitos arrived with his wife, Maristel. After a brief discussion to agree on the best route, we set out. By the time we arrived at the first lookout, haze had settled over the Valley of Mexico.

But if haze stopped Reed from taking photos, it couldn't mask the drama of the panorama. Urban sprawl and modern skyscrapers faded to the background, as I was once again struck by the bare bones of the geography of 'the' Valley of Mexico. Later I discovered that the Cuenca de México, catchment area for the chains of cerros, hills, that surround and define this basin is actually comprised of four valleys.

Before the Spanish arrived, the area was a system of lakes, which the Spanish filled in and drained during the first two hundred years of the Colonial Era. But what caught my eye were the extinct craters of volcanoes that had erupted hundreds if not thousands of years ago. Mother Nature at work!

I found this map of the Cuenca de México, the catchment area or drainage basin, that is Mexico City today.

Legend (Click to Enlarge)
Dark Green: Cuenca, Drainage Basin or Catchment, of Mexico City
Brown Triangles: Principal Mountains [At edge (periphery) of Catchment Area]
Turquoise Blue: Lakes Existing in 21st Century
Gray-Green: Lakes in the 16th Century [When Spanish Arrived]
Brown-Red Circles: Principal Population Areas
Yellow: Metropolitan Area of Mexico City

Getting back in the car, we began the climb up the side of Ajusco along its only road—a modest two-lane road that passes through three pueblos, each with its own small parish church.

Fiesta in Pueblo of Santa María Magdalena Petlacalco

At the second pueblo, we were in luck. It was their Fiesta associated with the First Friday of Lent. Located on a rise, the church was built during the first third of the 18th century. The Fiesta is in honor of The Lord of the Column (Señor de la Columna).

According to legend, the carved wooden statue of El Señor de la Columna was found by a peasant early one October morning on the shore of the Pacific Ocean in Lurín, Peru (Photo: Internet). 

Much of the Fiesta takes place in the Atrium, a large square in front of the Church. Small as this pueblo is, its Fiesta has all the traditional elements and conveys the intense energy of these liturgical celebrations. Here's my loose translation of the schedule:
  • First Friday: The fiesta begins with a traditional pilgrimage to the Sanctuary of the Señor de Chalma (outside Toluca), another miraculous manifestation of the Suffering Jesus in the days before the Crucifixion.
  • Afternoon: Procession of "El Señor de la Columna" tours the entire pueblo in the afternoon and evening along streets adorned in purple and white bunting, with runners laid down for the miraculous image to travel on. 
  • Saturday: Pilgrims returning from Chalma are received at the entrance to the pueblo and greeted with the traditional Dance of the Chinelos; the word "chinelos" derives from the Nahuatl word “zineloquie” meaning “disguised.”
Dance of the Chinelos (Photos: Reed)
  • Day: The Atrium of the Church is the "site of much joy and traditional dances"; 
  • Night: A party with bands and dancing, the sky is lit with the burning of Traditional Castillos [literally "Castles," but also Fireworks Towers].
Castillo, or Fireworks Tower
Castillo, Ready to Fire!
  • Sunday: Rocket salvos and traditional dances "fill the Atrium with joy."
  • Holy Mass: Celebrated for First Sunday of Lent, with traditional Dances of the Chinelos.
  • Afternoon: Traditional Jaripeo (Rodeo). 
  • Night: Another display of Traditional Pyrotechnics [Castillo] and Band Music. 
One of several bandas, bands, featuring trumpets 

It was hard to believe that we were still in Mexico City, the Federal District of the Republic of Mexico ... because the Ajusco region is puro, puro, puro [quintessentially] pueblo ... indigenous abuelas, grandmothers, wrapped in their rebozos ... chickens in the yards, men and boys riding horses ... cows ... wide open panoramas of this incredible countryside ... rows of mountain chains ... extinct volcanoes ... manicured fields surrounded by stone walls reminiscent of the New England countryside. ¡Ay, México, lindo y querido! Mexico, beautiful and beloved!

Comida Mexican-Style

After our tour, Carlitos and Maristel invited us to have comida, dinner, at their home on a country lane in the pueblo of San Tomás Ajusco.  Their house is large by Mexican standards and extremely comfortable. We loved its large windows. We spent our time in the diningroom, which has large windows along one side and French doors opening to the yard on a second side. Mexican-style, we sat and talked ... and ate ... and talked some more ... for lord knows how long ... three, four hours???

From the beginning, I'd had a good feeling about Carlitos, whose intelligence and professional bearing foster confidence. As it turns out, both he and Maristel graduated from UNAM (National Autonomous University of Mexico, one of Mexico's premier universities): Carlitos in accounting; Maristel in administration.

Carlitos told us that accounting and administration students take the same classes for the first-year of their programs. They laughed when I quipped, "But one year was enough...."

Their 21-year old daughter is now studying Biology at UNAM; their 18-year old son is studying Veterinary Medicine (first year) and wants to migrate to Australia. Their 12-year old daughter wants to be an actress. Given her science-oriented older sibs, why am I not surprised?

Carlitos just gave up his accounting office because the landlord was asking exorbitant increases—sound familiar to Jenny's readers? He has also owned and run a Papelería, Stationery Store. Clearly, Carlitos is an entrepreneur at heart. I suspect the taxi might be a placeholder while he figures out what he'd like to do next.

Maristel is currently taking part in a research project to explore the tourist potential of Xochimilco, famous for its floating gardens. But Maristel told us that Xochimilco's rich prehispanic history invites development to grow the economy by increasing tourist activity. Needless to say, we are eager to explore those sites with her!

For their part, the entire family was clearly taken that we USers were so enjoying their hospitality. For our part, we simply appreciated having the opportunity to spend an afternoon with an extraordinarily nice family ... including young people who actually talked to us!

Day's End

We had left at 11:00 AM and arrived back home at 7:00 PM. Dare I admit to dozing on the ride home ... Mexico City is 7,000 ft. ... the pueblo of San Tomás Ajusco is at 10,000 ft ... the peak of Ajusco Volcano is 13,987 ft—almost another 4,000 ft above the pueblo.

Both Reed and I seemed to have suffered some of the effects of high altitude, but we had such a memorable day, it was more than worth it. Moreover, Carlitos and Maristel are eager to show us other parts of the outer reaches of Ajusco, Milpa Alta and Xochimilco—all of which, believe it or not, are still within the boundaries of the Federal District, Mexico City. We can hardly wait.

Still Curious?

Here's Reed's photo album of the day: Fiesta in Pueblo Santa María Magdalena Petlacalco. Spoiler alert: I borrowed a couple of his photos.

While writing this post, other of Jenny's posts kept popping into my mind. Here are the best ones:
  • A description of the Dance of the Chinelos was hard to come by. A friend who lives in Tepoztlán kindly sent me this one, which first appeared in Jenny's post The Sacred Valley of Tepoztlán.
"Cortés defeated the Aztecs in 1521. By 1870, the Spanish colonists in Nueva España were organizing elegant dances for the Carnaval (Mardi Gras) that precedes Lent, but only peninsulares, those born on the Iberian Peninsula, Spain, could attend. Tired of being excluded from Carnaval, a group of native-born young men organized a cuadrilla ['posse'], disguised themselves in old clothes, covered their faces with pieces of manta, Mexican muslin, and began to shout, whistle and skip through the streets of town, mocking the Spanish, calling them huehuenchis, "old uglies" or "people who dress in old clothes.
"The first local celebration was so successful that the following year the young people organized another cuadrilla. To represent the Spanish, they added beards to their masks. In 1872 the young people again took to the streets, this time accompanied by a wind band whose members were disguised in masks that not only had exaggerated beards and mustaches but blue eyes, in order to further ridicule the Spanish in revenge for the humiliations they had inflicted. 
"As the party became increasingly popular, its character gradually evolved and became ritualized as a subtle and fun way to protest. Then people decided to hold their own celebration. The corno, horn, was a constant in a mix that blended ancient rituals with those of the new, imported Spanish culture. The end result was pagan-religious or religious-pagan events, depending on who was in charge.  
"The dance—fun, festive, cheerful—keeps rhythm with the humorous notes of village bands. The colorful dances hustle and rumble like the cohetes, rockets, launched incessantly. All this energy culminates in the famous "leap of the chinelo," which is the typical dance of Carnaval. Performed on several occasions throughout the year, the dance has changed little for more than a century. 
"The dancers' garments are richly decorated with multi-colored sequins and beads. The cone-shaped hats are fully embroidered and decorated with faux pearls in an apparent nod to Arab-Moorish-Spanish ancestry."
Yet another reminder that Moors from Northern Africa occupied the Iberian Peninsula for eight hundred years, during which time the primary occupation of Spanish nobles was warfare that finally succeeded in 1492. Riding high from the victory at Granada, Ferdinand and Isabella agreed to finance Christopher Columbus's voyage West into the setting sun. The rest, as they say, is history.
Spanish evangelizers used the story of the Moors' ultimate defeat to impress on the indigenous peoples of Mexico what would happen if they refused to submit to the Spanish king (Crown) and the Christian God (Cross). One of the dances of the Purhépecha people of Michoacán is the Dance of the Moors.   
Here are the two short [One 1:17Other 1:05] YouTube videos I made of the Chinelo dancers we saw at the fiesta in Santa María Magdalena Petlacalco.
  • Pilgrimage is a tradition with very deep roots in Mesoamerican culture. An earlier post, Pilgrimage, describes Mesoamerican pilgrimages as
  • "...collective endeavors for guaranteeing the continuity of the universe against catastrophic dissolution in an unstable world.assure ...."
    The tradition of pilgrimage remains strong throughout Mexico. Here, the pueblo's formal reception of its returning pilgrims on Saturday morning reinforces the essentially collective nature of pilgrimage that is still alive. 
  • Cohetes (rockets) are such an integral part of Mexican culture that it's impossible to imagine Mexico without them. Not a day goes by in Mexico City that we don't hear cohetes going off! Here's a great post from MexConnect: Cohetes: A Mexican Tradition.
Usually coheteros are older men, but these jóvenes, young men, were having a high old time setting off rockets right in the street.
Cohetes, rockets
  • Jaripeo (Bull-Riding) is also a strong pueblo tradition that developed around the bulls brought to Nueva España by the Spanish. Here's Jenny's post: Mexico Traditions: Jaripeo.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Reflections on "America" From Mexico

At the Coyoacán Plaza, Reed captured this mural, titled "Posada's Nightmare," commemorating 100 years since the death of José Guadalupe Posada, beloved Mexican cartoonist and political satirist, seated at left. CLICK TO ENLARGE so you get the impact of former President Felipe Calderón brandishing a broken sword and riding atop the stooped-over skeleton in the shape of a dinosaur. Both Diego Rivera (center in short pants, tan jacket) and the bald-headed character are smoking marijuana! The skeleton in the black sombrero wearing charro trousers is a narco-trafficker. You can't miss Uncle Sam spying on the goings-on, or the Devil carrying oil Mexican North to "the other side."
One of the pleasures of writing Jenny's Journal is being able to post photos like this one. Drawn in Posada's style, the mural lampoons not only Mexico's foibles but Mexicans' view of the U.S.

Another pleasure is hearing from readers. One recently sent me the post, Ten Things Most Americans Don't Know About America, by self-described world traveller Mark Manson.* Mark discusses these 'Ten Things':
  1. Few People Are Impressed by Us;
  2. Few People Hate Us;
  3. We Know Nothing About the Rest of the World;
  4. We Are Poor At Expressing Gratitude And Affection;
  5. The Quality of Life For The Average American Is Not That Great;
  6. The Rest Of The World Is Not A Slum-Ridden Hell-Hole Compared To Us;
  7. We're Paranoid;
  8. We Are Status-Obsessed And Seek Attention;
  9. We Are Very Unhealthy;
  10. We Mistake Comfort For Happiness.
The reader's email ends with the query, "How do you respond to this?"

Mark's points triggered a veritable rush of thoughts and feelings. When they finally stopped ricocheting around, I came to realize that they boiled down to three distinct spheres of understanding that have slowly developed over the past five years. For this post, I found myself jumping off from Mark's Ten Points to reflect on:
  1. How Mexicans look at the United States;
  2. My understanding of what makes up "the" Mexican point of view—it's complex, just like in the U.S.;
  3. How my own view of the United States is evolving even as my ability to see and understand my birth country from the perspective of someone living outside the U.S. continues to deepen and change.

Let's Ease Into This

Let me say upfront that in general I applaud Mark's intent and his observations. First, his intent:
"... we don't really get perspective on what’s close to us until we spend time away from it. ... You often don't see what’s messed up about your country and culture until you step outside of it. 
"And so even though this article is going to come across as fairly scathing, I want my American readers to know: some of the stuff we do, some of the stuff that we always assumed was normal, it’s kind of screwed up. And that’s OK. Because that’s true with every culture. It’s just easier to spot it in others (e.g., the French) so we don't always notice it in ourselves."
Mark makes a point of stating that he speaks several languages and avoids hotels and hostels, renting apartments and attempting to enter into neighborhood life as much as possible. His observations are not only insightful but utterly unambiguous. Mark leaves no doubt about what he has experienced and what he thinks about it!

Even when I don't agree with him 100%, the article is thought-provoking and that alone recommends it. Reed and I share his approach: learning and using the language, living locally and entering into the life of our Mexico City community. In the case of Mexico, however, some further clarification and amplification is appropriate.

Let me begin by quoting the oft-repeated saying attributed to President Porfirio Díaz (1876-1910):
"Poor Mexico: so far from God and so close to the United States."
Curious about the origin of the quotation, I came upon this comment on Yahoo Respuestas México, Mexico Responses, where an clearly informed Mexican posted this explanation:
"Attributed to General Porfirio Díaz, who ruled Mexico for over 30 years, the phrase was actually written by Nemesio García Naranjo, Monterrey intellectual, journalist, Federal Deputy [Congress] editor of The Tribune and contributor to the weekly Siempre [Always]. Garcíá Naranjo died in the early 1960's.
"Taken together and regardless of their origin, the twelve words make up a kind of national lament of the geographic fatalism that encloses us, and that is very present today [Emphasis added]."
Geography

Aside from the Río Grande (known in Mexico as the Río Bravo), the 1,954 mile border between Mexico and the United States is arbitrary, quite literally a line drawn in the sand. At the conclusion of the Mexican-American War (1846-1848), the U.S. and Mexican governments established a joint survey commission made up of surveyors from both countries. The commission was sent out to determine the location of the border—the official international boundary ("Line in the Sand")—that would delineate land the U.S. was 'annexing' (1848) from Mexico.

No less a respected authority than George Friedman (founder of the Stratfor Report, which objectively applies a geopolitical perspective to global intelligence issues) lays out the geographic and cultural reality: Northern Mexico and the Southwest United States are a single geographic unit whose culture reflects and sustains its Spanish-Mexican heritage. Nowhere is this cultural fusion more evident than in the everyday realities and shared histories of the towns along the border. Nogales, for example, literally straddles the border—part in Arizona, part in Mexico. But these paired towns also share histories and everyday realities:
  • Ciudad Juárez, México / El Paso, Texas;
  • Matamoros, México / Brownsville, Texas; 
  • Nuevo Laredo, México / Laredo, Texas; 
  • Reynosa, México / McAllen, Texas; and
  • Tijuana, México / San Diego, California.
Until quite recently, the border was a mere formality that did not affect the life of these vibrant communities. Residents typically shopped on both sides of the border, and it was common for large, extended families to have members living on both sides.

Notably, the State of Texas—first in line to insist on separation from Mexico in the mid-nineteenth century—has also arguably been the first to take advantage of this geographic reality to power its economy. When Rick Perry was sworn into his third term of office as Governor in 2011, he invited the governors of the four Mexican states that border on Texas: Tamaulipas, Nuevo León, Coahuila, and Chihuahua. After the ceremony, they held a business meeting. Nothing—not even anti-immigrant ideology—gets in the way of profit.

The "Americans"

Considering how to relate Mark's comments to Mexico, I found myself bumping up against what I understand of Mexican perceptions about the policies of the United States government, of the "Americans," the "American Dream," and the "American Way of Life."

Let's start with the article's title. Responding to Reader Comments, Mark writes that as a three-year resident of South America he's aware that it's offensive to designate U.S. citizens as "Americans."

Twenty years ago in the early months of a two-year project at Pemex (Mexican Oil Company), I learned this lesson first-hand from an engineer who gently, courteously, chastised me:
"We know that you in the U.S. think of yourselves as 'Americans', but the truth is that here in the Western Hemisphere we are all Americans."
Mark accepts the criticism, noting that he deliberately chose the term to help U.S. readers identify with the article's central theme. In Spanish, the formal adjective is estadounidenseUSian. In Mexico we gringos are commonly referred to as norteamericanos.

As I see it, that's the big picture. Now let's take Mark Manson's Ten Points one by one.

1. Few People Are Impressed By Us

Mark's point is that most people outside the U.S. are far more focused on their own everyday concernsfamilies, jobs, communitythan on the U.S. Then he adds:
"As Americans, we're brought up our entire lives being taught that we're the best, we did everything first, and that the rest of the world follows our lead. Not only is this not true, but people get irritated when you bring it to their country with you. So don't [do it]."
Mark notes two exceptions: the English and the Australians. Notably missing are two other rather obvious exceptions: Mexico, which shares a 1,954 mile border with the U.S., and Canada, whose 5,525 mile border with the U.S. is two-thirds longer than Mexico's.

A Canadian friend, who lived in the U.S. for sixteen years and now lives in Mexico during the winter months, has generously shared her experiences of Canadian impressions of U.S. society and its people. In a nutshell, Canadians would agree with Mark's observations...but even more so. More about this later in this post. Here's what she writes:
"Most American people I know, truly, deeply believe that America is THE BEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD....with a deep, abiding fervor. 
"And that hurts, 'cause Canada is pretty nice, so are Mexico, Italy and France. I love New Zealand, too." 
Over a three-year period in the 1980s, I had a number of projects with Xerox-Canada not only in Toronto, Ontario, but in Calgary, Alberta, and Victoria, British Columbia. Invariably, I would be invited to lunch; at some point, my client-host would carefully, tactfully, explain to me the various ways in which Canadians are "not like the Americans." The message was unmistakable:
Do not assume that we Canadians are simply U.S.-North.
For historical reasons we'll touch on later, when Mexico's people come up against this U.S. attitude, their feelings of hurt are added to another longstanding sting. Given the geographic realities, Mexicans are very aware of the United States. It took us awhile to understand that oft-repeated phrase "el otro lado" (the other side) means, "in the United States," which suggests to me how fluid the border is in the Mexican mind. In our circle of friends and acquaintances alone, the number of people with family members on "the other side" is sobering.

If the number of people who have told us, "I worked in [pick one!] Houston, Washington, Utah, Oregon, North Dakota, Tennessee, North Carolina, New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire for x-years," are added in, the number rises even higher. Taxi drivers work for a time al otro lado and return to buy their own taxis. Others work to build a house for their family. In 2010 one acquaintance joined family members already living in Utah but he had to return to Pátzcuaro because he couldn't find work during the anemic economic recovery.

The amorphous border works both ways. A Mexican-American friend told us that his mother was 'Old Texas'. It took some explaining for us to understand that her family's ownership of Texas land predated the Mexican-American War (1847). The deed to their land was, in fact, granted to them by the king of Spain before Mexico's War of Independence From Spain (1810-1821). PBS senior correspondent Ray Suarez recently published a book, Latino Americans: The 500-Year Legacy That Shaped a Nation, that addresses the 500-year presence of first the Spanish, then the Hispanics on lands we know as the United States.

One criticism I would make of Mark's observations is that he fails to distinguish between the people of the U.S. and U.S. government policy. I have in mind the Soviet-U.S. citizen-to-citizen exchange programs conducted during the Cold War; similar exchange programs exist now for Israeli and Palestinian youth. Invariably, the surprised comment of people returning from such experiences is a variation on,

"They are just human beings like us; it's their government that's the problem."

2. Few People Hate Us

Fortunately for us, the majority of Mexico's people do distinguish between us and the policies of our government, which have often had devastating consequences on way too many ordinary Mexicans. NAFTA (1994), for example, has wreaked havoc on the country's small rural farmers. Unable to support their families as in the past, the men head north, but the people who stay behind—women, children, the elderly—struggle mightily to survive. The government now acknowledges the reality of women working land abandoned by their husbands, sons and fathers.

Taken together, the ill-conceived "War on Drugs," the illicit southbound arms flow, and the collateral criminal activity (extortion, human trafficking, etc.) arising from that "war" have had serious negative consequences not only on Mexico's social fabric, but on the country's young and fragile democracy.

Except for what amounts to this throw-away line, Mark doesn't address the consequences of U.S. economic and political-military policies on the peoples of the world:
"...unless we're invading someone’s country or threatening to invade someone’s country (which is likely), then there’s a 99.99% chance they don't care about us."
Given its geographic proximity to the U.S., the simple fact is that Mexico does not have the luxury of ignoring the United States. In fact, Mexicans do think about the U.S. Last week a Mexican friend, an attorney, asked me in obvious confusion and distress,
"What is going on with the U.S. government shutdown?"
The entire Mexican economy is tightly linked to the U.S. economy. Another Mexican saying perfectly captures the resulting dependency:
"When the U.S. gets a cold, Mexico gets pneumonia."
If it's remarkable that ordinary Mexicans don't hate us, it's equally remarkable both how much they know about us...and how much they misunderstand about us.

Last year Reed traveled with the Caravan for Peace with Justice and Dignity to the U.S. led by Mexican poet and activist Javier Sicilia. The caravaneros stayed in modest accommodations, often sleeping in sleeping bags on the floors of churches in poorer sections of such major cities as Chicago, New York and Washington, D.C. As the bus traveled through devastated, abandoned neighborhoods in Baltimore, Maryland, a middle-class Mexican woman remarked to him in amazement,
"I had no idea there are neighborhoods like this in the United States. I thought ...."
3. We Know Nothing Little About The Rest Of The World 

The more I worked on this post, the less tolerance I had for Mark's use of the word "Nothing" because it just isn't true. What is true, in our experience, is that USians know little about the outside world compared to what people outside the U.S. know about the United States. Students in Canada, Europe and Asia learn about the U.S. in school. Mexicans learn a lot about U.S. society, customs and the "rule of law" from relatives and friends al otro lado.

In the post's closing paragraphs, Mark makes a very good point about the U.S. attitude toward other countries:
"... I think the greatest flaw of American culture is our blind self-absorption. In the past it only hurt other countries. But now it’s starting to hurt ourselves."
I would add that we continue to be surprised by how widespread xenophobiaan unreasonable fear or hatred of foreigners or strangers or of that which is foreign or strange—seems to be throughout wide swathes of U.S. society. The fear is longstanding. In the nineteenth century the U.S. initially imported Chinese laborers to build the railroads. When fears arose that there were too many Chinese, the U.S. passed the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882; subsequent laws excluded all Asians from immigrating to the U.S.  In reaction to fears of Southern and Eastern European Catholics and Jews in the 1920s, the U.S. restricted immigration from those countries in order to "preserve the ideal of American homogeneity" [U.S. Department of State Office of Historian].

To illustrate his point, Mark challenges our limited understanding of historical events:
"We did not invent democracy. We didn't even invent modern democracy. There were parliamentary systems in England and other parts of Europe for over a hundred years before we created government."
I wish Mark had included examples from Mexico and South America. He could begin with the Mexican-American War (1846-1848), known in Mexico as La Intervención Estadounidense en Méxicoyes, the U.S. Intervention in Mexico. One of the key battles was fought less than a mile from where we now live in Coyoacán, in the southern part of Mexico City.

A museum to that battle is housed in the ex-Convento Churubusco. One of the first complexes constructed by Cortés (1521), the Convent served multiple purposes: it housed friars evangelizing the indigenous peoples, provided overnight traveler accommodations and served as a fort to guard the causeway that gave access to Tenochtitlán (central Mexico City) from the south. The battle was fought by Mexican soldiers, but with an interesting twist. Irish deserters from the U.S. Army—refusing to take up arms against fellow Catholics—formed the St. Patrick's Brigade, which fought alongside the Mexicans.

It is probably fair to say that even today Mexico's people feel a sense of humiliation over the loss of slightly more than half their national territory. This feeling comes out in resentment of U.S. 'intervention' in Mexico's 'Drug War' and its current "structural reforms"; specifically, opening Pemex (National Oil Company) to activity by the transnational oil companies, but especially to the oil companies of 'los norteamericanos'.

Not surprisingly, the Wall erected to reinforce the U.S. border with Mexico is viewed with a mixture of disbelief, outrage and a keen sense of irony, if not outright humor. The irony is that rather than fencing Mexicans out, the border has served to fence in on the U.S. side Mexicans who would much prefer to return home, but no longer can.

There is also a keen sensitivity toward behavior perceived as over-bearing in the attitudes of U.S. politicians in Mexico today. Need I add that the same goes for tourists and resident expats.

I was personally embarrassed by photos of President Obama looking inattentive at best and bored at worst during the last meeting of heads of state of the Organization of American States. His body language communicated disdain, which is offensive to the nth degree.

Similarly embarrassing was Hillary Clinton's gaffe at the Basílica of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Her seemingly innocent query—"Who painted this picture of the Virgin?"—revealed her ignorance of one of the foundation pillars of Mexican society. Thus her naive question betrayed a failure to prepare for her visit that was, to Mexicans, disrespectful.

4. We Are Poor At Expressing Gratitude And Affection

Here's how Mark introduces this section:
"...open displays of affection in American culture are tepid and rare. Latin and some European cultures describe us as “cold” and “passionless” and for good reason. In our social lives we don’t say what we mean, and we don't mean what we say."
Yes, Mexican people often perceive USians to be "cold," but the cultural roots of their perception are both so numerous and profound that it isn't easy to know where to begin. My Spanish teacher in Pátzcuaro spent several years working and going to school in Los Angeles. Whenever I brought up cultural differences between the U.S. and Mexico, his reply was unequivocal: "The U.S. is totally different."

It's taken years for me to gain enough cultural experience to understand what he meant. The basic pillars of social order in the two countries are indeed different. U.S. social structure is grounded in a set of common rules that ideally apply equally to all. Given a reliable civil authority, people in the U.S. have confidence to act directly on their own behalf. U.S. speech conventions, our directness, is one outgrowth. Another is our almost compulsive striving to "better ourselves," grounded in our general belief in "progress."

In Mexico, the beliefs are different. For all that Mexico is changing (and I believe it is, albeit slowly), the country's authoritarian and hierarchical cultural roots remain strong. As a practical matter, implementation of the formal rules ('laws') is often arbitrary and dependent on whoever's in charge, whether the local "jefe," work boss, or "cacique," political boss. Individual Mexicans deal with this general arbitrariness of civil authority by finding 'safety' in their family and network of trusted friends (personas de confianza). Thus, it is not surprising that interpersonal relations are highly valued and tended to with utmost care. Like families everywhere, there are issues, but ultimately families not only stick together, they stick up for each other. Resources of the extended family are pooled to loan each other money (bypassing the banks) and to provide the skills needed to build and repair houses, cars, care for children, feed the hungry...whatever is needed!

The arbitrary nature of civil authority also lends itself to indirect speech forms. Mexican Spanish luxuriates in indirectness: reflexive verbs and passive voice abound. Where USians are direct, Mexicans are the epitome of indirectness.

One Mexican friend is an attorney specializing in family law. Her German father taught her to speak directly—to say what she means and mean what she says—and she pushes her clients to do the same. She says that her directness causes problems because
"Mexicans aren't used to being direct, but for a good legal outcome, it's essential that my clients be direct and tell the truth."
One source of Mexicans' perception that USians are "cold" derives from instances where the Mexican preference for indirectness bumps up against USians' natural directness.

Intricate formulas of social courtesies, la cortesía, are also very important. The oft remarked graciousness of Mexico's people may serve as a protective device, the social formulas an effective buffer between persons of differing status. 

But Mexico's people seem quite willing to accept foreigners who learn the language and the basics of la cortesía, which can be as simple as greeting people with a "Buenos días" before a business transaction even, say, in a store. When greeting a colleague, it is courteous to ask, "Cómo está?" and to inquire about the family. In a nutshell, establishing personal relationships and re-establishing personal connections after even the briefest absence, these come before all else.

5. Quality of Life For Average American Is Not That Great

Here Mark observes U.S. culture from the outside looking in:
"If you're extremely talented or intelligent, the U.S. is probably the best place in the world to live. The system is stacked heavily to allow people of talent and advantage to rise to the top quickly. 
"The problem with the U.S. is that everyone thinks they are of talent and advantage. As John Steinbeck famously said, the problem with poor Americans is that 'they don't believe they're poor, but rather temporarily embarrassed millionaires'.”
After remarking on the U.S. culture of delusion, Mark continues:
"It’s this culture of self-delusion that allows America to continue to innovate and churn out new industry more than anyone else in the world. But this shared delusion also unfortunately keeps perpetuating large social inequalities and a quality of life for the average citizen lower than most other developed countries. It’s the price we pay to maintain our growth and economic dominance." [Emphasis added.]
Mark might be dismayed to learn that his belief in our "growth and economic dominance" may also be partially delusional. Here's from the Global Innovation Index (GII) launched in 2013 (p. 3):
"Innovation is a global game. Those at the top of the list are highest performers in
innovation and include Switzerland, the UK, Sweden, USA and the Netherlands.
Switzerland remains number one in all rankings, and together with Sweden, are the
only two countries that are in the top 25 of all pillars of 2013 GII.
" [Emphasis added.]
Mark mentions that we work more and vacation less than workers in other countries, we spend more time commuting, and U.S. household carry an average of $10,000 debt.

I would add that:
  • U.S. students appear to be consistently scoring below students in other countries. 
Note: Economic Policy Institute suggests a more nuanced interpretation based on a more detailed analysis; worth a read. Consider this: New York Times (10/23/2013): U.S. Adults Fare Poorly in a Study of Skills.
Note: As of 2009, the U.S. rate was 743 per 100,000 of national population (0.743%); Russia had the second highest, at 577 per 100,000; Canada was 123rd worldwide at 117 per 100,000; and China had 120 per 100,000.
People in Mexico are deeply disturbed by the regularly recurring mass shootings in the U.S. In a word, both Canadians and Mexicans are flabbergasted by widespread gun ownership. As my Canadian friend writes:
"But the biggie really is: The God-given right to bear ARMS. That separates us...way more than our French or our climate or the loudness of our voices. We just don't get the American attachment to their guns."
For our Mexican friends, the notion of a 'Right to Bear Arms' is very strange. Incredulously, they remark, "It's in your Constitution that you can own guns." Needless to say, the threat posed to ordinary Mexicans by the illegal influx of weapons into their lands from the U.S. is terrifying, as is the ensuing violence which threatens the social fabric of communities unfortunate enough to be located on key drug routes.

6. Compared to U.S., Rest Of The World Is Not A Slum-Ridden Hell-Hole

Mark:
"If there’s one constant in my travels over the past three years, it has been that almost every place I've visited (especially in Asia and South America) is much nicer and safer than I expected it to be. Singapore is pristine. Hong Kong makes Manhattan look like a suburb. My neighborhood in Colombia is nicer than the one I lived in in Boston (and cheaper). 
"As Americans, we have this naïve assumption that people all over the world are struggling and way behind us. They're not. Sweden and South Korea have more advanced high speed internet networks. Japan has the most advanced trains and transportation systems. Norwegians make more money. The biggest and most advanced airplane in the world is flown out of Singapore. The tallest buildings in the world are now in Dubai and Shanghai. Meanwhile, the U.S. has the highest incarceration rate in the world."
In the first place, Mexico City is one of the world's great cosmopolitan cities. The aesthetic of the architectural style is striking, many streets are tree-lined, and parks dot the cityscape. The same is true of Mexico's other major cities. The best of Mexico's professional and business class are on a par with any in the world. Mexico's elite society is highly cultured.

Years ago I read an anecdote written by a USian who had been invited to attend the birthday party of a Mexican friend. As I recall, he wrote something like this:
"Their home was modest, yet they generously, proudly, offered me their hospitality with no sense of embarrassment over their humble condition. The Mexican people seem to be much more comfortable with poverty than are their northern neighbors. They enjoy life more."
It's noteworthy that the observation has stuck with me for years. As I was revising this post, I suddenly realized that actually his remark can also be understood as a comment on the consumer mentality ("keeping up with the Joneses") that dominates in the U.S. 

Fiestas

Fiestas are held to celebrate the patron saint of each town and the patron saint of each church. Fiestas are a very big deal, which took us awhile to understand. Far more than a mere party, fiestas sustain the identity of the community and its members. 

In a post about fiestas in Purhépecha communities of Michoacán, I wrote:  
"For a pueblo's fiestas are much more than an annual 'party'. In these communal societies, continuity of family and community is top priority. In this context, fiestas are essential social rituals for reinforcing familial and communal identity essential for preserving millenia-old cultural traditions rooted in Mesoamerican culture. 
"Community members living afuera (outside the pueblo, either in other regions of Mexico or in the U.S.) make annual visits—one might say pilgrimages—to attend their pueblo's fiesta. At this time and in this way, communal identity is affirmed by reaffirming Who I belong to, and Who belongs to me."
Unlike in the U.S., where we tend to be defined by the work we do, Mexican identity is grounded in family and in place, where one was born and hence one's community. 

In Mexico's urban settings, like Mexico City itself, fiestas are held in each of the parish churches. We hear the cohetes (rockets) going off to announce mañanitas (predawn prayers) and at intervals during the day to announce mass. Let it be said that Mexico's people thoroughly enjoy a party. They know how to enjoy themselves ... chatting endlessly, laughing easily, teasing relentlessly and joking incessantly.

Awareness of Mortality 

Coming back today from the supermarket in a taxi, the driver and I were chatting about the rain that was still falling in October! He said, "Of course, it always rains during the Fiesta of San Lucas," which is now in progress at the nearby Church of San Lucas. My reply was the traditional saying, "Pues, el agua es vida," well, water is life. 


After mentioning that another client had told him that the weather patterns are changing because the earth is shifting slightly on its axis, followed by a brief comment about the immensity of the universe and how small the Planet Earth is, he concluded, "Life and Death, that is what we have before us."

It may be an effect of the Catholic tradition, but as a people the Mexicans are acutely aware that they will one day die. We are approaching Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, with its rich traditions and whimsical depictions of la Catrina, Death, created by Diego Rivera. Given this reality, which comes equally to all of usyoung and old, rich and poor, good people and bad people, no one is exemptit behooves us to live each day to the fullest, to enjoy each other and to enjoy life. 

7. We're Paranoid

Mark:
"Not only are we emotionally insecure as a culture, but I've come to realize how paranoid we are about our physical security. You don't have to watch Fox News or CNN for more than 10 minutes to hear about how our drinking water is going to kill us, our neighbor is going to rape our children, some terrorist in Yemen is going to kill us because we didn't torture him, Mexicans are going to kill us, or some virus from a bird is going to kill us. There’s a reason we have more guns than people. 
"In the US, security trumps everything, even liberty. We're paranoid. 
"I've probably been to 10 countries now that friends and family back home told me explicitly not to go because someone was going to kill me, kidnap me, stab me, rob me, rape me, sell me into sex trade, give me HIV, or whatever else. None of that has happened. I've never been robbed and I've walked through some of the shittiest parts of Asia, Latin America and Eastern Europe. 
"In fact, the experience has been the opposite. In countries like Russia, Colombia or Guatemala, people were so honest and open with me, it actually scared me." [Emphasis added.]
Mark's observations are very interesting. In fact, friends in the U.S. find ways to ask us, "How safe do you feel living in Mexico?" A few months ago, I wrote a post to answer that very question.

But it's Mark's last sentence that intrigues me. I don't know Russia, but if Colombia and Guatemala are like Mexico, there is a certain kind of person whose quality is so "honest and open" that Reed and I have identified it as ingenuousness. Usually old enough to be their grandparents, we feel a particular responsibility to do everything in our power to respond to and respect that quality of open-hearted innocence. It's fair to say we have only rarely, if ever, come across anything comparable in the U.S.
The driver who took us to Migration last week displayed an endearing openness. He let us know he spoke English. When asked if he'd like to practice his English, his reply was a quick, eager 'yes'. He told us that he'd just bought his own taxi and, in fact, his new baby had arrived on the same day as his new taxi! He's studying law on the weekends. His uncle, an attorney, makes himself available to answer questions. How can we help but be touched?
There's another type of Mexican who responds to us by putting up the "mask" that Octavio Paz memorably described in his landmark work The Labyrinth of Solitude. The mask is the complete absence of emotion or affect. Confronted by such expressionless, it's easy to feel intimidated, which is probably its purpose. It's not difficult to see the mask as the perfect defensive barrier against danger posed by anyone perceived to be a threat.

I can't resist recalling an experience from when we lived in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán:
I was walking back home along the dirt lane that passed along the railroad tracks that ran between the lane-way and the two-lane highway passing in front of our house. Where the land dips, the railroad tracks are elevated as much as six feet or so to keep the tracks level. Hence, I realized, I was no longer visible from the highway. 
As I approached the gate to a house, I noticed a young man leaning against the wall. I was indeed intimidated by his facial mask, devoid of expression. I had a decision to make: what was I going to do? 
I decided that I was in my neighborhood and that all the people I have met are kindly. So I decided to take the risk. As I neared the gate, I smilingly greeted him, "Buenas tardes," before adding, in clear reference to the threatening skies overhead, "¿Está esperando la lluvia?"Are you waiting for the rain? 
In the blink of an eye, the mask fell to be replaced by a sweet smile that utterly transformed his face. We chuckled together in a neighborly way, and I continued on my way.
8. We Are Status-Obsessed And Seek Attention

Mark:
"I've noticed that the way we Americans communicate is usually designed to create a lot of attention and hype. ... I think this is a product of our consumer culture: the belief that something isn't worthwhile or important unless it’s perceived to be the best ... or unless it gets a lot of attention. 
"This is why Americans have a peculiar habit of thinking everything is “totally awesome,” ... It’s the unconscious drive we share for importance and significance, this unmentioned belief, socially beaten into us since birth that if we're not the best at something, then we don't matter
"We're status-obsessed. Our culture is built around achievement, production and being exceptional. Therefore comparing ourselves and attempting to outdo one another has infiltrated our social relationships as well. ... Socializing becomes objectified and turned into a competition. And if you're not winning, the implication is that you are not important and no one will like you." [Emphasis added.]
How can I refrain from quoting Albert Einstein here?
"Everybody is a Genius. But if you judge a Fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is Stupid."
Traditional Mexican society is not generally competitive. People are honored for the role they provide to the groupfamily or community, not for what they have achieved. They are parents, grandparents, community leaders, merchants. USians are known to be competitive, but it is not a quality that is particularly admired. Work is work and has its own cultural dynamics, but work doesn't convey identity. Everyone works to assure the well-being of the entire community (starting with the family)—the common good.

For the people of Mexico, life is so much more than work. Life is what happens everyday. Life is familyweddings, births and birthdays and, yes, deaths and funerals. Life is fiesta—public celebrations and private ones. Life is enjoying each day for what it brings.

9. We Are Very Unhealthy

Mark:
"Our food is killing us. I’m not going to go crazy with the details, but we eat chemically-laced crap because it’s cheaper and tastes better (profit, profit). Our portion sizes are absurd (more profit). And we're by far the most prescribed nation in the world AND our drugs cost five to ten times more than they do even in Canada (ohhhhhhh, profit, you sexy bitch). 
"In terms of life expectancy, despite being the richest country in the world, we come in a paltry 38th. Right behind Cuba, Malta and the United Arab Emirates, and slightly ahead of Slovenia, Kuwait and Uruguay. Enjoy your Big Mac."
That's the least of it! We're also exporting ill-health around the world. I wince every time I see a Mexican mother giving her infant a bottle of formula.

During last winter's drought, I was appalled to read that although remote pueblos lacked adequate supplies of clean drinking water, trucks carrying Pepsi and Coca-Cola made regular deliveries. The reporter pointed out that sodas cost less than water.
  • Mexico City's Christmas Parade is sponsored by Coca-Cola, which is nowhere near as harmless as Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City;
  • Kellogg sponsored a "Come Have Breakfast With Us" event one weekend in Mexico City's popular Chapultepec Park. The menu featured ... Kellogg's Corn Flakes, which is no replacement for the traditional Mexican breakfast of corn tortillas, stuffed with a little chicken and cheese seasoned with a salsa rojo (tomato-based sauce) or salsa verde (green tomato sauce).
  • Oxxo, a copycat 7-11, is filled with little more than shelves and shelves of junk food.
Diabetes is the leading health problem in Mexico. Obesity in Mexico is widely attributed to over-consumption of junk food and sweet drinks. It's not uncommon to pass a day laborer with a HUGE3 liter; 3 quart!bottle of Pepsi or Coke sitting nearby.

Yesterday (10/17/2013) the Chamber of Deputies passed a law taxing sodas, sweetened drinks and junk food. A headline in today's newspaper reads "Obesity Is Not Combated with Taxes, Say Soda Companies."

Consider these headlines:

10. We Mistake Comfort For Happiness

Mark:
"The United States is a country built on the exaltation of economic growth and personal ingenuity. Small businesses and constant growth are celebrated and supported above all else — above affordable health care, above respectable education, above everything. Americans believe it’s your responsibility to take care of yourself and make something of yourself, not the state’s, not your community’s, not even your friend’s or family’s in some instances. 
"Comfort sells easier than happiness. Comfort is easy. It requires no effort and no work. Happiness takes effort. It requires being proactive, confronting fears, facing difficult situations, and having unpleasant conversations. 
"Comfort equals sales. We've been sold comfort for generations and for generations we bought: bigger houses, separated further and further out into the suburbs; bigger TV’s, more movies, and take-out. The American public is becoming docile and complacent. We're obese and [feel ourselves to be] entitled. 
"When we travel, we look for giant hotels that will insulate and pamper us rather than [seeking outlegitimate cultural experiences that may challenge our perspectives or help us grow as individuals." [Emphasis added]
This may be Mark's most important observation. It seems to me that what Mark terms "U.S. consumer society" has hijacked or subverted the values of 'community' and notions of the 'common good' that were considerably more common when Reed and I were growing up in the 1950s. We remember when CEOs even felt a sense of corporate responsibility to the communities in which their companies were located.

In 1989 we watched mesmerized as the Berlin Wall come down. I remember Reed commenting thoughtfully,
"I wonder what will happen now. Communism's socialist ideals (although most assuredly not the reality) has always served as an ideological counterweight to capitalism. With that counterweight gone, it's going to be interesting to see how this plays out."
Bloomberg News (by no stretch of the imagination a leftist entity) reports that the pay of Fortune 500 CEOs has increased 1000 percent since the 1950s. Here's Bloomberg's analysis of the ratio of CEO pay to the pay of regular workers:
  • 1950: ratio was 20-to-1;
  • 1980: ratio was 42-to-1;
  • 2000: ratio was 120-to-1;
  • 2013: ratio is 204-to-1.
Roger Martin, dean of the University of Toronto’s [Canada!] Rotman School of Management, told Bloomberg:
“When CEOs switched from asking the question of ‘how much is enough’ to ‘how much can I get,’ investor capital and executive talent started scrapping like hyenas for every morsel.”
What an image: hyenas! Some label it unbridled capitalism; others call it savage capitalism. Whatever it's called, it is wreaking havoc on the ordinary peoples of the world. The U.S. is not immune to these effects. U.S. academics and economists report a "hollowing out" of the U.S. middle class. Around the world, the impact is even more devastating.

Perhaps especially so in Mexico, which is experiencing a two-way squeeze. On one side are the transnational companies seeking to exploit Mexico's natural resources:
  • Spanish companies building wind farms on the Isthmus of Tehuántepec are facing fierce opposition from affected indigenous communities;
  • Canadian mining companies are everywhere in Mexico where there's gold, silver and other minerals to be extracted; 
  • Monsanto is engaged in an ongoing attemptrecently suspended by the Mexican Courtsto grow genetically-modified corn in Mexico, which is the biological origin of maize and where hundreds of species have developed to adapt to Mexico's myriad micro-systems (GM seeds are banned in Europe and India); 
  • U.S. transnationals are going after every conceivable kind of consumer market, not just Pepsi and Coca-Cola, but Walmart (of course), CostCo, Radio Shack, Office Maxyou name it, either they have a presence in Mexico now, or they are seeking one. 
Just as in the U.S. itself, these transnational companies are squeezing not only traditional Mexican businesses, but traditional indigenous communities as well.

On the other side are the devastating effects of criminal activities fed by the obscene sums of money involved in the illicit drug and arms markets, together with related crimesextortion, kidnapping, human trafficking, etc.

Mexico's president is currently seeking to gain passage of a series of so-called "structural reforms" that many Mexicans from respected academics and thought leaders to ordinary people link to outside influence, such as the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD: An "international organisation helping governments tackle the economic, social and governance challenges of a globalized [i.e., neoliberal capitalist] economy").

It should be noted that many thoughtful Mexicans harbor grave concerns about the capitalist system, which they see as counter to the communal ethos rooted in the Mesoamerican culture that was in place when the Spanish arrived. For that reason and due to numerous 'invasions'beginning with the Spanish, of course but also including incursions by both the French and the United States—the people of Mexico are inordinately sensitive to perceived outside influence on internal Mexican affairs.

Ongoing protests by the dissident wing of the Teachers' Union over the education reform are one manifestation. Protests over the pending energy and tax reforms are another. For the time being, protest is mainly limited to opinion pieces published in newspapers, but protest is widely expected to take to the streets as the reforms come up for vote.
However, this is not the only viewpoint. The business class, mostly but not entirely descendants of the original Spanish 'invaders', is robustly behind most of the reforms. Reed just published a paper that analyzes the "fractures and fragments" of Mexican society. His discussion is useful for understanding the country's complex dynamics.
Given all this complexity, what does one make of the finding that Mexicans Score Themselves at 8 out of 10 on Happiness Scale?  Yes, it's for real, and it's actually quite remarkable.

If I were to characterize the Mexican style of life, most agree that it focuses on family and close friends, and it is far more experience-oriented than thing-oriented—themes we've already discussed.

Let me close by sending you to an opinion piece that explores the findings of the "Happiness" survey mentioned above. Dr. Octavio Rodríguez Araujo, emeritus professor in Political Science at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, disagrees with the results of the Happiness Survey and casts doubt on its methodology. According to the survey's logic, Dr. Rodríguez's highly-educated colleagues should be very satisfied with their lives; however, he reports that when he asked them, none are. In order that we not throw the baby out with the bathwater, let me recommend his analysis, The Mystery of Mexican Happiness. It's worth a read and a fitting end to this post.
*Mark Manson began traveling in 2009 after having gone-broke in 2007 following college graduation. Over the three-year period, 2009-1012, Mark lived in 40 countries, and he now resides in Medillín, Colombia. Poking around on Mark's website, which includes posts on Minimalism (living with less is more) and Why Young Americans Should Work Overseas, sheds light on how the generation 'lost' in the 2008-2009 economic crash is coping. If Mark is any indicator, they are coping quite well.

Still Curious?
  • Ray Suárez, former PBS NewsHour senior correspondent, recently published a new book, Latino Americans: The 500-Year Legacy That Shaped a Nation. In the Introduction, Ray writes, "As you read this book, if you don't say to yourself more than once, 'I didn't know that', then I haven't done my job." Ray relates the history by telling the stories of Latinos. I guarantee that it's not possible to read this highly engaging work without saying, multiple times, 'I didn't know that'.
  •  PBS is now airing its 6-part Documentary Series by the same name: Here's the link: Latino Americans: The 500-Year Legacy That Shaped a Nation.

    Episode 1: Foreigners in Their Own Land;
    Episode 2: Empire of Dreams;
    Episode 3: War and Peace;
    Episode 4: The New Latinos;
    Episode 5: Prejudice and Pride;
    Episode 6: Peril and Promise.
  • Bill Moyers interviews Robert Reich to discuss his new documentary film, Inequality for All.
  • Jason Hickel, PhD in Anthropology, is a researcher and consultant at the London School of Economics and Political Science who has considerable experience working with African nations. Hickel's observations about the impact of neoliberal economic policies on those nations jibes remarkably well with Mexico's experience, starting with NAFTA (1994). Highly recommended: A Short History of Neoliberalism (And How We Can Fix It) is not only readable but important.
  • Finally, here's just the book I've been looking for: The Mexico Reader: History, Culture, Politics (Gilbert M. Joseph, Editor). The Table of Contents lists an eye-catching selection of essays by a full spectrum of Mexicansfrom Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz to Revolutionaries Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, former Mexican Presidents from all eras, but also including Sor (Sister) Juana Inés de la Cruz, the 17th c. nun widely recognized as the first feminist in the Western Hemisphere. Amazon reports 14 Reader Reviews: 5 Stars (12); 4 Stars (2). Reader comments are not only positive, but insightful. 
Related Jenny's Posts:
Mexico Voices translations:

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day on Francisco Sosa Street in Coyoacán, Mexico City!

In Mexico Mother's Day is celebrated on May 10, which was Friday. Reed and I had decided to walk across Sosa Street to buy Mango Chutney to take as hostess gifts for family in California and Chicago.

We love Sosa Street. It's a narrow, one-way stone street said to be the oldest colonial street in Coyoacán, which places it in the sixteenth century.

Calle Francisco Sosa, Coyoacán

Sosa Street is lined with colonial properties. All that's visible from the street are walls, but the house where Mexico's Nobel laureate Octavio Paz, poet and writer, died is on Sosa. Today it houses the Octavio Paz Foundation, which in addition to classes and cultural events gives the public access to the property.

Colonial House where Octavio Paz died

Colonial properties are often quite grand. Behind the walls are not only large houses, but extensive gardens as well.

Formal entrance to Octavio Paz garden. 
The property extends to the right with more walkways, trees and open spaces

Half-way across Sosa is the little Plaza Santa Catarina in front of Santa Catarina Chapel, a simple sixteenth century structure originally built to hold open-air masses for Coyoacán's indigenous people.

Santa Catarina Plaza in front of the Chapel

Usually we go to the Culture Center in another colonial mansion on Plaza Santa Catarina with another extensive garden, but today we had a different destination in mind: Lupita's Restaurant.

Lupita's Restaurant (Photo: Internet)

The restaurant occupies the ground floor rooms of a corner colonial house, so the dining rooms have windows on two sides. The white-washed adobe walls and low beamed ceilings create a comfortable, very human space. The rooms are colorfully decorated with cut-paper works hanging on clotheslines strung just below the ceiling.

Lupita's menu is muy mexicano featuring family-style Mexican cuisine on a fixed price menu for 80 pesos [$6.61 USD]. We were served sopes (good) and an exceptional creamed poblano chile soup. For the main course, Reed had chicken enchiladas with mole that he pronounced delicious; I had tasty chicken tostadas—and we shared!

Dessert was just right—a tiny piece of quintessentially delicious carmelized panque (similar to pound cake). We topped it off with agua de jamaica (prepared like tea with dried hibiscus or roselle flowers)—refreshing and delicious!

But maybe the best part was the large family comida (dinner) at the table in front of us. There must have been twelve or fourteen people of all ages, including at least a couple of grandmothers. 

As we passed their table on the way in, Reed gallantly wished all the women Feliz Día de la Madre—which they loved! I saluted them with the traditional courtesy as you walk past diners,  Buen provecho (bon apetite).

Their lilting chatter, interspersed with the quick, easy laughter of people who enjoy each other enlivened our own comida. On the way out, the host at the table, probably in his mid-40's, rose deferentially to greet Reed, then asked if he's the padre (priest) at the Capilla of Santa Catarina across the street.

Reed replied with a warm smile—being mistaken for a priest, now that's a first!
"No, but we live here in Coyoacán," he replied. 
Their pleasure at hearing Reed's reply was palpable. Instantly, we were enveloped in the welcoming warmth of their smiles...smiles that reflected their pleasure in our pleasure to be living here!

I believe I heard a "¡Qué padre!"—That's fantastic!

The older woman sitting at the corner of the table next to where I was standing got up and gave me an abrazo (embrace), wishing me a Feliz Día de la Madre...to which I replied,
"Thank you for your greeting from my grandchildren." 
At which point, she said something that preceded her kissing me on the cheek! I was deeply touched.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, beats the warmth and generosity of a Mexican welcome. There's nothing quite like it...anywhere! 

Happy Mother's Day!