Tag: Mexico

Canas


Canas in Spanish means gray hair. My gray hair started appearing in my early thirties. In some of pictures, my hair doesn’t even look gray. Sometimes it looks dark brown or black. Most of the time it looks like I have salt and pepper hair. In some pictures my hair looks completely gray. I’ve never worried much about my appearance. What you see is what you get! No hair dyes or plastic surgery for me. Despite the gray hair, I feel more energetic now than when I was younger. There’s a saying in Spanish: Con las canas vienen las ganas. This saying is difficult to translate, but it could be interpreted as, “With (gray hair) age comes desire/energy.” Okay, I did my best, but it loses something in the translation. I have more energy than my much younger colleagues, who seem to tire much sooner than me. Well, I just accept life as it comes. Life is a boxing match, so I’ve learned to roll with the punches. When I was younger, I thought that the best defense was blocking punches and punching back. However, no matter how good a pugilist you are, you will get punched. And quite often, too. So, I learned to roll with the punches.

Anyway, gray hair runs in our family. Or so I thought. All my uncles in Chicago had salt and pepper hair since their early thirties, and I followed the family genetic suit. But when I went to Mexico, I noticed that my male relatives in their thirties, forties, and even fifties didn’t have gray hair. And they didn’t dye their hair, either. So why do we Rodríguezes have more gray hair in America than in Mexico. Well, I’ll be honest with you, Gentle Reader, I don’t know! And it doesn’t bother me either. Except when I’m in Mexico and they ask me my age. I know that they’re trying to place me in chronological order among relatives, I am the long-lost relative who finally returned to the mother country. It is only in these moments that I become self-conscious about my gray hair.

But I am thankful to have lived longer than I had ever expected I would as a boy. I remember watching all those old kung fu movies and fantasizing about becoming like the old kung fu master that is baddest warrior of all. You know the guy. The protagonist fights and defeats one combatant after another until at the end of the movie he confronts the deadliest warrior alive, who usually turns out to be a seemingly frail old man with long white hair and a long white beard. This was usually the best fight scene of the movie! Until the protagonist finally defeats him after a long and exciting battle. So, this is how I thought I would become in my old age. Other than gradually getting older and older, I really don’t have much in common with the old kung fu master. Okay, I tried growing my hair and beard long, but no one really felt comfortable around me. So, I’m back to my short gray hair happy that, Con las canas vienen las ganas.

DDR

Writing letters


My best friend!

I don’t know why, but Mexicans find it difficult to write letters to each other.

When I left Mexico, both times, I said I would write back and send pictures. Well, it took me a while took write back, but I finally wrote back! And guess who wrote back? One cousin to whom I didn’t even write. So, I felt guilty and wrote her a letter.

I wrote to my aunt and then she relayed a message to my cousin who e-mailed me telling me that my aunt said hello. This same aunt still had letters that I had written to her thirty years ago. They were tucked away in her picture box along with my Chicago Marathon medal, which I have no idea how she obtained it. Perhaps, I gave it to my mother before she went on one her trips to Mexico.

Now it’s starting to come back to me. My mother said if I wanted to give something to my aunt, so I gave her my marathon medal. Actually, it was a lot easier than writing a letter. Even with the Internet, we don’t seem to be writing to each other any more frequently. I still have a long list of relatives to whom I will write before my next visit. But even if I don’t, we’ll pick up the conversation right where we left off the last time. My cousin likes to IM me and that’s fine when I have time. It is a lot easier than writing letters.

Pizza


Domino’s pizza

I had some pizza with my sons the other day and I remembered how difficult it was finding food for them to eat in Mexico. It’s not that they don’t have tasty food in Mexico. It’s just that my sons didn’t like Mexican food made by Mexicans that wasn’t like the American Mexican food that we usually eat in Chicago.

We went to Pizza Hut in Celaya and the menu listed many of the same combinations available in the U.S. Of course, they also served pizza with jalapeño peppers. I would have been surprised if they didn’t offer jalapeños.

This is a country that always adds some sort of condiment to whatever food is served. If you sit down to eat, you are expected to put red or green salsa on about everything you eat. So, I was surprised by what I saw at Pizza Hut. People put catsup (in Mexico, it’s hardly ever ketchup) on their pizza. I tried explaining that the sauce on the pizza was made from tomatoes, but everyone said that pizza didn’t taste right without catsup. Well, the surprise was that they actually ate a food item that wasn’t spicy!

DDR

Mexican Chinese food


A Chinese restaurant in México City.

While I was in Mexico, we went to several malls, which were very much like many American malls I have visited, only newer. Since finding a restaurant that was appetizing for my sons and the rest of us was was a huge challenge, the mall provided the perfect solution with their eateries and their variety of restaurants. Each one of us could order our favorite food at different restaurants. My sons chose Subway, not surprisingly.

I wanted to try new food that I had never eaten in Mexico before. I found a Chinese restaurant in a hidden corner near one of the mall exits. I just love Chinese food! But I suspected that Mexican Chinese food would be different from American Chinese food. And I was right. The choices on the menu were different and I didn’t recognize all the entrees. But true to the Chinese restaurant tradition–even in Mexico– I was served very large portions and at a very economical price compared to the surrounding restaurants in the mall.

An elderly Chinese man served me. He understood all of my questions about the menu. However, he barely spoke Spanish and had a difficult time communicating with me. I think the best Chinese restaurants are the ones where the cooks only speak Chinese. Yes, even in the U.S. Well, the food was delicious! But I was hungry a half an hour later. Yes, even in Mexico! I was disappointed that they did not serve green or red salsa. I mean every restaurant in Mexico serves salsa!

DDR

Mexican food


Now this is real Mexican food in America!

While in Mexico with my sons, we ate a lot of Mexican food. Even though I had warned them in advance that Mexican food in Mexico was different from Mexican food in America, my sons were shocked that everyone served them Mexican food. But it was nothing like what they had expected.

They were surprised that very few restaurants served steak tacos (de carne asada). And all the food was cooked with the spices already in them. They didn’t want any spicy food. They didn’t even want to try the tamales because they had never seen them or heard of them before, although you really can’t have a Mexican party in the U.S. without tamales. It’s the law. When we were at a Mexican restaurant while we were on the road, I also warned them not to expect the waitress to put a basket of tortilla chips on the table. That’s an American custom!

The last time I went to Mexico in December, I didn’t worry about food because I was alone and I adapt well to different environments.  I ate everything my family served me, causing my one cousin to note that I was really Mexican. Anyway, feeding my sons posed a unique challenge. My cousin suggested taking them to a pushcart vender who sold hot dogs and hamburgers our first night in Celaya. I thought it was an excellent idea. Until I saw the vender preparing a wiener with a strip of bacon wrapped around it. I thought for sure that my son wouldn’t like it. But he ate it and said that he liked the way the hot dog tasted with bacon.

We also went to Pizza Hut, Burger King, and McDonald’s quite often while in Mexico, much to my disappointment. I really thought that I would get away from fast-food restaurants for a while. Well, I wanted to take my sons so they could experience Mexico, and despite the culture shock, they enjoyed the trip and said they would go back again. 🙂

DDR