I was sitting in the bus station in San Miguel de
Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico. My wife and I had just completed a
four-day fact finding mission. We had been there to see for ourselves,
to take careful notes of what we observed and to find out if what we
had been told by fellow expats in the Mexican city in which we live,
was true. We had heard some of the most outlandish stories of gringo,
American gringo, behavior and to state it simply, we went to have a
look see. We were not disappointed.
My wife excused herself to go
to the ladies' room while we waited for our bus back to the city of
Guanajuato. Sitting to my right was a young Mexican woman who, I found
out later, was a graduate student. We sat in front of a particular bus
line's counter, one with whom we had dealt many times. The employees
are friendly and almost overly accommodating. We sat there, the young
Mexican grad student and I, when an all too frequent American and
Mexican culture collision took place.
A band of "merry" American
gringos walked into the station and stormed the bus line counter. A
blonde woman began wailing, thrashing about, with doubled fists began
slamming the counter, and screeching like a dying moose at the Mexicans
behind the counter. The faces on the bus line's employees had this look
of,
"Well, here we go again—Americans."
For reasons known,
I am certain, only to God, this woman thought that in order to conduct
business with this Mexican bus line, she had to act like an ass. This
woman screamed for a good fifteen minutes when, finally, the bus line
apparently gave her that for which she was pitching a typical gringo
fit. As she walked off with her band of fellow gringos, she acted as
though she had just won a war. She had the look of the conqueror of
evil. They chortled and threw menacing glances at the bus line counter
as if to say,
"We're Americans, you Mexican slime. That'll teach you to mess with us! We kicked Hispanic ass."
The
blonde bomber had screamed at the bus line employees all in English. I
must tell you, that most of the gringos with whom I've talked about
this very issue claim,
"These people can speak English and are only pretending they don't."
I
don't know why, but I turned slowly to the Mexican girl sitting to my
right who was still staring in shocked disbelief (you would think
someone from San Miguel would be used to this by now, but she was
clearly disturbed) at the whole scene. She saw me looking at her and
shifted slightly in her seat to face me but said nothing. I began in
Spanish,
"What did you think of that?"
"I didn't like it at all."
"How did that gringa make you feel?"
"Terrible and degraded," her eyes began watering ever so slightly.
We
spoke some more and exchanged names and background information. That's
something I love about this culture. You establish relationships by
talking about things that are important.
My wife walked up and
the three of us talked. This woman said something to me that I've never
forgotten. I have to say, the last three sentences this woman uttered
before she had to catch her bus were,
“Why won’t these Americans learn Spanish?”
“Why won’t these Americans associate with us?”
"What's wrong with us?"
That's
when my eyes began to water a bit. This poor dear wrongly concluded
there must be something wrong with "Us" that caused the gringos to,
Refuse to learn Spanish.
Not associate with the Mexicans.
I've
got to tell you that this single event and conversation I had with this
young, fresh college graduate student has been the single most
important impetus for my writing over the past four years. When I've
felt down, have felt like quitting the writing gig, when the harsh and
vulgar emails (some with threats) come from the nutty gringos who
detest what I write, it is this small and seemingly insignificant
conversation with this woman that I turn to in my memory and get
recharged.
This is a cultural problem, one that I am convinced
few gringos realize exists. Maybe I should even call it a cultural
violation, offense, a collision that few monolingual gringos have any
inkling they are committing.
The logic here is inescapable. You
can never, in your wildest imagination, figure out how to be a part of
someone's life with whom you cannot or will not communicate. If you
will not or cannot communicate with someone in the language of the
country in which you choose to live, then no matter how many bilingual
locals you claim to have as pals, "Oh yes, they are my close friends,"
what you are doing is depending entirely upon those bilingual locals
when you have to interface with the community which does not speak your
language.
When you can't tell your painter, roofer, gardener,
contractor, or maid what you want and have to call all those "Mexican
friends who speak English," then not only are you using those friends
of yours (and those friends know this too) to interface with those
locals that are in your sphere of living with whom you should be able
to interface, but you are also essentially telling the maid, the
roofer, the gardener, or whomever they are not important for you to
learn their language.
You know, it is not the myriad of culture
bugaboos in Mexico that unnerve me. What is so mind-boggling is how
American gringos will come to Mexico, ferret out all the bilingual
Mexicans, claim them as "All my friends are Mexican", and then, hold on
to your hat, claim to understand the culture on an intimate level. They
will claim Cultural Fluency without being able to speak
enough Spanish to go to a monolingual doctor, dentist, or call for
emergency help, like an ambulance, because they cannot string enough
Spanish together to save their lives—literally! Certainly, they cannot
comprehend what they are doing. It has to be some sort of delusion,
does it not? If they understood the connection between culture and the
language of the culture, how could they begin to make the claim they
know Mexico?
What Mexico can they possibly know? Do they know Mexico as a CONCEPT? Or, do they know Mexico as a REALITY?
What
has to precede any understanding of the Mexican culture is linguistic
fluency. Fluency in Spanish does not guarantee cultural fluency, but
your foot is in the door. And lest you are now thinking I just made
that up, as one reader who cyber-stalks me believes, listen to this:
"Language
is the primary mechanism by which people interpret, transmit, and shape
their culture. As such, it becomes fused with the culture itself."
If
what Mr. Ned Crouch, Cultural Analyst and author of the above quote,
said is true, then just what is going on in Gringo Enclaves, American
Colonies, and Gated Communities? What's happening there? Those places
in which gringos hide (their Gringo Bubble-Town) from the local
community in the foreign country to which they have moved (invaded),
what do we call it? It isn't expatriation, so what is it?
If the
simple definition of an expat is someone who moves to a foreign country
and learns the language so that he or she may integrate into the
community and adopt the local customs, practices, holidays, go to the
local's churches, celebrate what the locals celebrate, then what do you
have exactly in areas of Mexico where there seems to be something other
than that going on? What do you call something where the foreigners
(invaders) have their own stores and products from their home country,
live together in little English-only settlements or housing divisions,
have gringo doctors available, celebrate their home country's holidays,
and so on. What is that? What are we supposed to call it? What are we
to call those who dwell in this alternate dimension that exists
side-by-side with the reality of Mexican towns and yet aren't Mexican?
Most importantly, what are we to think as to why the creation of these alternate universes is even necessary?
Language--Primary Mechanism--Interpret--Transmit--Shape--Culture.
There are two frustrations I feel deeply about this issue
The first is that humans are wired to learn languages. No matter your age, even if you have some sort of brain disease[3],
language can be learned. Age is not an issue, as so many Americans seem
to think. If poor and uneducated Latinos, with no money for classes,
can find a way to become fluent in English so they can get better jobs,
then Americans with positive cash flow are without excuse. It can be
done. My wife and I didn't begin learning Spanish until we were in our
forties. If we can do it, then no one has an excuse unless they are
dead and buried.
The second is my friend in the bus station. It
hurts Mexicans that gringos won't learn their language. That is because
Mexicans know, unlike Americans, that language is the primary mechanism to interpret, transmit, and shape culture.
A lack of desire to learn other languages in America is perhaps one
reason why Mexicans (and most other cultures) regard Americans as void
of culture. We are not seen as highly social or cultural beings in the
eyes of the rest of the world. This might be one of the reasons.
There
are three things that hide behind the public mask Mexicans wear when
dealing with monolingual American gringos. They are the Mexican sense
of space, time, and language. Mexicans are a group-oriented people.
They do not think as Americans do, with the great "I" plastered between
our eyes. Mexicans think in terms of "WE." "We" the neighborhood, we
the work team, we the family, we the barrio, we the city, we the
nation. Mexicans think primarily about "what is good for us and not me."
Mexican
sense of time is like a river on which our life raft is floating.
Mexicans think we Americans are too obsessed with time deadlines. Then,
Mexicans think of language as that which is the primary way in which
their culture is communicated.
If you do not learn Spanish, and
learn it well, then you are communicating to Mexicans that you do not
care a wit about their culture.
I can tell you this is on the
minds of most of the Mexicans with whom I've spoken. They know about
the American opposition to Mexicans immigrating to America. They know
Americans expect Latinos to learn English and to assimilate into the
American culture ASAP.
Mexicans see and understand the hypocrisy and that's what hurts them so.
I
can guarantee you that if you, monolingual American, were able to get
past the surface masks your bilingual Mexican friend shows you, that
Mexican friend whom you USE to interface with the rest of Mexico, you
would see someone who just may regard you as someone who is
cultureless, and maybe even totally clueless in your delusion that you
know the Mexican culture.
Without that primary mechanism—language—how can you begin to make the claim of culture fluency?
You can't!
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Gringa in San Miguel--Musings
on U.S. Immigration Reform, immigrant communities in Virginia and the
Mid-Atlantic, and my current research on international retirement
migration to Mexico & Central America. BLOG ENTRY: Saturday,
May 26, 2007 Life in the Bubble Debra Lattanzi Shutika, Ph.D. Assistant
Professor Department of English Office; George Mason University
Fairfax, VA 22030
[2] Mexican & Americans Cracking the Cultural Code; Ned Crouch; Nicholas Breakly Publishing; 2004; Page 55
[3] Some studies have shown that those with mild dementia can learn other languages.
[4] Actually, what a Mexican would think is, "What is good for me is for me to put the "US" first."
Doug
Bower is a freelance writer and book author. His most recent writing
credits include The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, The Houston
Chronicle, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Associated Content, Transitions
Abroad, International Living, Escape Artist, and The Front Porch
Syndicate.