Mexican Fads Part I: What Were They Thinking?

You wouldn't believe it yourself if you didn't do the research.  I thought it was truly made up.  My student, lets call him Samuel, told me about this new trend going on in Mexico right now.  After some research, it looks like its big in the Ciudad de Mexico and Monterrey especially, but has creeped up into Texas as of late.  I am guessing by now, you have looked at the picture before you read this, so go a head and take another moment to take it all in...



The name of this disturbing footwear is Botas Picudas...When I first saw these pictures, I would have bet my firstborn child that it was some sort of Saturday Night Live sketch or internet hoax.  But no.  When I did process this and accept it as a reality, my first coherent thought was: Well, now I know what happens when a Cholo fornicates with a Leprechaun.  Well it gets worse.  Evidently it becomes a mark of manhood, the longer you can make the boot tips. check out these pics:

Disturbed yet?  You should be.  The day Samuel told me about these things, I had to show the spouse immediately upon my return home from work.  My wife, often the voice of reason in the relationship so eloquently put it like this, "WHAT THE HELL?"  Very astutely, she posed the question, how could a culture so hell-bent on Machismo have such a ridiculous trend?  I second that.  I can accept the the sprarkley- tinseled details sewn into traditional Mariachi-wear...even the clearly feminine-sounding gritas done in Norteno music, but seriously?  The pointy boots are a sign of manhood? Over compensation for phallic inadequacies may be the more appropriate diagnosis. Why can't my people just get a giant truck or red-convertible sports car like every other culture?

It looks like this bastardized paisa-elf trend comes from a type of "tribal" music in which the dancers had long pointy boots.  As it became more and more popularized, it became a more and more common to see who could have the longest boots.  Clearly in this case, the winner is the clear loser.  Back to the music part...I was almost as equally shocked that the music this trend coincides with is more of a techno-house meets raggaeton style.  I would have guessed more Duranguense personally.  Here is an example:

I, to be honest dig the music.  It's no Wisin y Yandel or Aventura, but it's catchy.  I am just praying that for the sake of my people, this trend doesn't make its way across the desk of Bill O'Reilly or someone of the like.  My people have enough trouble staying off the conservative's radar, all this does is give more fuel for the argument of how Latinos are corrupting good ol' American society.  And if for some reason, in a couple of months, this catches on in America, and I am driving through Edina, Minnesota and see suburban white teenagers walking around with ridiculously pointy shoes, I may have to find a church because its for sure a sign of the Apocalypse. 

Anyway.  That's all I got.  You let me know what you think.  Share this trend with your friends.  At the very least, its worth it to see the expression on people's faces as they see the pictures.  Oh and if you are interested in actually learning more on this trend, here is a documentary recently posted.  Its a bit long, but it will give you, in the words of Paul Harvey, the rest of the story...

Things Not To Do In An Interview...

I am pretty sure it was never officially covered in my college or graduate classes, but as a general rule of thumb when interviewing for a job I have learned one valuable nugget of wisdom:  DO NOT PERFORM OFFENSIVE RACIAL SLURRED IMITATIONS IN AN INTERVIEW.  Now, please understand, this is not something that I thought I should have to offer as advice for anyone, but looks like some people may not have gotten the memo.  Por Favor, don't get me wrong.  I enjoy a good Mexican joke as much as the next guy. But for some reason it seems ok, when I (as an identified Mexican-American) make the joke to other Mexicans or to my white buddies who pretend that since they are friends with me that they have a right to laugh.  But doesn't it make sense, that if you were a white male, applying for a job at a school of a diverse multicultural demographic that you would refrain from imitating your current Hmong supervisor to a team of interviewers?  Seems like common sense right?  Well, sadly this one particular applicant this week, lets call him Bland Whiteman to keep him anonymous, was absent the day God's great gift of tactfulness was being handed out. I haven't seen such a terrible impersonation since Fischer Steven's role in Short Circuit.

Due to discretionary reasons, I can't go into any further detail, but just know that what he did was a giant no-no.  Not only did he break into a terrible Asian accent when imitating his supervisor he spoke in broken English, I am pretty sure he was two-seconds away from breaking into the ol' childhood game "Me-Chinese-me-play-joke" and pulling on his eyes to "make himself look Asian."

So, tell me, in which way can we blame Mr. Whiteman?  I am convinced that 20 years ago, maybe less, perhaps this behavior would have been acceptable.  In fact, I am willing to bet that in some areas of either MN or in my home state of MT, this type of behavior is still  widely acceptable.  Heck,  given the experiences my Mexican father has endured as of late at his rural Montana job, it may damn well be encouraged! Obviously in some of Bland's social circles this is no big deal now.  It worked out that he wasn't a very good interviewer other than the racism either.  And his lesson sucked.  The students hated him.  Maybe that makes it easier to tell him, "No go, on the job-o."  But, when push comes to shove, what if he was a great teacher?  I wonder if a supervisor would be willing to over-look blatant racism and hire him.  Or to be more profound, how many of us would over-look subtle racism from a candidate if they were a strong candidate?  Evidently most of us given the amount of racist comments I have encountered in my professional career.
Again, maybe its because I seem safe to my Caucasian brethren, but I have heard plenty of racist remarks, often from my closest colleagues in the past. Comments directed both at me and about others.  So really, are they any better than Bland?  I guess so, because they are able to filter.  They waited to be racist until AFTER they go hired.  Racist comments given to the token Mexican.  Maybe they thought  its ok because I make comments myself.  Its easy to let ourselves off the hook because we say we are just "joking," right?  Well Mr. Whitman was only "joking" too right?  Not sure.  Most of my colleagues, many of whom I would call friends would probably be devastated if they knew something they they said as a joke actually cut deeper than they intended.  So I guess that makes them better.  The potential for remorse.  Either way, after this encounter with Mr. Whiteman, I will be more careful about making jokes about my people, as well as my Asian, Black and African brothers and sisters  in the professional setting.  God knows I don't want to come off as a racist...

We Mexicans love us some John Paul II...

Do you know how Germans love David Hasselhoff?









 

Multiply that by 10 billion, and that is how Mexicans feel about John Paul the II.  He is everything you could want in a venerated being...charming, charismatic, holy, and dead.  He was and continues to be the face that adorns many Mexican-Catholic walls inside of homes and Churches alike. 

Here we see JPII ready for El Harabe Tapatio

 This weekend, you have undoubtedly seen the fanfare and hooplah surrounding the beatification of JP II.  As I explained to some students earlier in the week, his beatification doesn't make him a saint, just yet.  He is now classified as "Blessed."
 In fact the way I explained it was like this:  You know how after you graduate from college you get a Bachelors?  Well if you keep going, and want to be extra smart, you can earn your Masters.  Then, if you are really ambitious, you can move on to get your Doctorate.  Its the same thing in the Church.  When you have died, you get the title, "Deceased."  Then if you are feeling extra holy, and want to do a miracle, you will earn your "Blessed."  Then, if you are really really ambitious, heal another couple of times, and you will earn your "Sainthood."

Crude explanation? maybe.  Did the students get the point?  Most assuredly.  Then I finished by explaining, that becoming a "Blessed" or a "Saint" in the Catholic church really amps up your celebrity status.   For Mexican Catholics however, JPII already had the celebrity status.  He wasn't even dead yet and he was being a Saint in some Latino circles.  Some viejas were so nuts-o over him, you probably could have sold them his toe-nail clippings as relics.  I even saw once, a picture that a Mexican photographer supposedly took back in 1980's of the sunset around the time he was shot.  Supposedly there was a dark spot that he blew up, and it was the image of JPII hugging the Virgin Mary.  This is the picture.     
It clearly is not a photo but looks more like a painting.  Regardless, it shows you the amount of love and devotion the brown man and woman has for the JPII. 

Like any good and devoted Mexican Catholic, I have my own JPII story.  I actually had the opportunity to see Blessed JP II in person.  With my naked eye.  Sure he was close to 1/2 a mile away, but I saw him dang it.  The priest at the time, from Our Lady of Guadalupe, my home parish back in Billings, MT, took my cousin, Mark and I to the World Youth Day down in Denver back in 1993.  This was the summer before my sophomore year in High School.  We took the pilgrimage.  Long car ride to Denver. As a 15 year old, I didn't quite get the grasp of how significant seeing the Pope actually was.  Until we hit Denver that is.  There were people from all over the world in the Mile High City. Languages and cultures, we never even heard of.  Who knew that there was a an American Samoa? We filled up the then, "Mile High Stadium" with a Mass that the Pope wasn't even there for, just some 2nd rate Cardinals and such.  On our third day there, we took a huge hike to Cherry Creek Park and camped out for the World Youth Day Mass. This is where things got nuts. We hiked for a couple hours to get to our "camp-site."  Did I drink water? No.  We were up all night, cheering, and singing and laughing, and meeting new people.  My cousin, Mark and I even met a group of girls from Texas.  Did I eat any food?  No.  So after about 16 hours of no water or food, I thought it a brilliant idea to eat.  So what did I buy? M&M's.  A big bag.  By 4 the next morning I finally did have something to drink.  By 4:30 I had to pee.  I work my way to the Porta-Pottee village (seriously hundreds of them), and stand in line.  At the edge of the shanty poop-town, a group of my people, Mexicans with guitars, had made it their ministry to play music and sing to the people doing the pottee dance in line.  Pretty cool huh?  And between songs they shouted crazy cheers for JPII in the ol' espanol.   I wish I could remember them, but as you know, I didn't/don't speak Spanish so well.  Anywho, back to the story.  Soon its 8:00 am. I haven't slept. I have only eaten M&M's and had a small bottle of water.  I wasn't feeling so good.  It gets hot and I end up dehydrated.  I was awake for the Pope's arrival in the Pope-mobile.  It was awesome. Sadly, I remember little after that.  I found myself after enduring a dull haze, and my cousin saying, "You don't look so good," laying on a cot in the Medical tent, due to heat exhaustion.  I have an IV in my arm, and I'm tired as hell. Looking back at the time, it would have been a great opportunity to see a vision of Mary or JPII hugging me or something.  Maybe I wasn't quite Mexican enough at the time, but I digress.  I got escorted back to my camp site after the IV and lie down under a tarp.  I woke up a few times during the rest of the 2 hour mass.  From what I remember it was really cool to hear JPII's actual voice blaring over the loud speakers.  I remember being woken up to get in a looooooooong line and receive communion.  There were 20 or so semi-trucks backed up with boxes and boxes of communion wafers.  That's a lot of Jesus.  Anyway, I didn't get to receive communion from JP II.  I think you have to be a big deal for that.  I did, however get close enough to actually see him with my eyes, not on the Jumbo-trons.  It was surprisingly profound.  A big moment in my life that I wouldn't trade for anything.

17 years later, I was able to see the same Pope-mobile down at the Basilica of Guadalupe in Mexcio City.  Evidently once the thing hit American soil it just stayed over here, for his visits and what not.  I personally think once it rested in Mexico, they should have put some hydrolics in that puppy, and maybe even put some 20" rims on it.    You know, have Mexico really make it "their own." I may even know a few guys who could have modified it into the world's holiest Taco Truck and parked it on International Boulevard in Oakland, CA. Imagine the business you would get at Papa Juan Pablo el Segundo's Tacos and Horchatas!  Admit it, the idea has merit.

Anyway, JPII is now Blessed.  Pretty cool deal.  Even if your not a fan of him or the Catholic Church, you can, at the very least be happy that this event gave you some respite from all the media-whoring being done over the royal wedding.  And for that respite, I say: John Paul II, we love you!