When traveling in Mexico, you should be aware of “los malos aires.” Literally translated as “the bad winds,” this phrase can refer to a cool breeze or even negative vibes. This is the reason mothers bundle their children up beneath three layers of flannel blankets, two layers of pants, a couple shirts, socks and good tennis shoes. I remember when I went to the US Embassy in Mexico City. Mexican mothers carried their babies beneath layers of clothing and cloth while American mothers held their babies in nothing but shorts and t-shirts. They obviously hadn’t heard of “los malos aires.” This is also the reason one should never run around barefoot. Here in Xalapa, you should always wear shoes, even if it’s hot. Since I grew up barefoot,... Show more

I have to interrupt this segment on “malestares” in Mexico to share with you our TelMex adventure. If you’ve already spent a significant amount of time in Mexico, you’ve heard of TelMex. Not only that, you’ve also helped strengthen the TelMex Empire. If you’re not familiar with Carlos Slim and the TelMex monopoly, check out these this post to get a little background: https://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/27/opinion/27mon4.html Once you’re familiar with size and strength of the Empire and the incredible “tranzas” that helped build it, you’ll understand my frustration with the following “anécdota” (anecdote). We rent a small cabin to a friend. She has been living there for almost two years. Sometimes the phone bill arrives, but usually it... Show more

When traveling in Mexico there are a few “malestares” (malaise) that you should watch out for. You may or may not be familiar with them, but you’ll most likely hear of them after spending a significant amount of time here. In the next couple of segments we’ll take a closer a look at a few of these conditions. “Susto” (fear) is a psychological or physical reaction to trauma. There are a number of stories about children who go missing, witness a traumatic event or experience other stressful situations and later show physical or psychological reactions that warrant the attention of a “curandero” (healer). For example, my husband’s uncle, as the story goes, fell into the river when he was a little boy. That alone was a “susto.” But then,... Show more

On January 2, the oldest cantina in America Latina was shut down by the UNAM (Universidad Autónoma de México). El Nivel (The Level), with its license number 001, has been around since at least 1872. It has served as a meeting place for writers, artists, the homeless, entertainers and even presidents. Until recently, the cantina was filled with characters with "apodos" (nicknames) like "El Brujo" (The Witch) and "El Colosio" (for his resemblance to the ex-presidential candidate). On any given day you could find "Nivelungos" (El Nivel Barflies) such as "El Tío Monchiváis" (Uncle Monsiváis) and "El Doctor Tatatiú-tatatiú" seated at the bar drinking any one of the joint’s specialty drinks: El Nivelungo, La Patada de Mula (The Mule’s Kick)... Show more

You may suggest that translating is nothing more than finding one word’s equivalent in another language. You may believe that your dictionary can solve all your grammatical woes. Your electronic translator or software may seem to be the most reliable way to get the author’s point across. You would be wrong. An experienced translator doesn’t just exchange one word for another. If we’re talking about poetry, for example, words have very little to do with it. A good translator reads beyond the words on paper to find the true intended meaning. She taps into the images, sounds, feelings and experiences which the author invokes. That is what she translates. Ramón Rodríguez is a local poet of international renown. He turned 82 not long... Show more

“Sé un caballero,” (Be a gentleman) a father told his little boy the other day, “y cárgale la mochila de la niña” (and carry the little girl’s backpack). “Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” I responded. “She can carry her own backpack.” And so my stepdaughter and we continued on our way to school. I also remember when my husband and I went to see our “partera” (midwife). She is a robust woman capable of shaking big babies out of large women. She needed to buy a “garrafón” (jug) of water. So she asked my husband, who’s about half her size, if he could carry it for her. Now our midwife is as much of a feminist as the next woman, but she is also accustomed to letting the men do the heavy-lifting. Later on she laughed about it and... Show more

A lot of people have asked me general questions about Mexicans like, “What religion are they?” as if they were a homogeneous tribe or “What do they eat?” as though they were specimens under observation, or even seemingly simple things like, “They drive you crazy, don’t they?” Before responding I always wonder, “What do you mean by ‘they’?” So I always start out by saying, “In Xalapa…” Yet now, I am now in Mérida, Yucatán- a world away from Xalapa, Veracruz. It seems to be the perfect moment to talk about the plurality of Mexican "cultura" (culture), "costumbres" (customs) and "comida" (food). Let’s take the other day as an example. My "suegra" (mother-in-law) ordered "gorditas". Now, in Xalapa a "gordita" is a corn tortilla made... Show more

Every region in Mexico has its own way of speaking Spanish- its own sayings, regionalisms, lilt and accent. Xalapa and Mérida have very different ways of speaking Spanish. Here’s a look at some of the "modismos" (idioms) that have stuck out to me: Te presto: This term is hard to get the hang of for most foreigners. "Prestar" is to lend. So, “Me prestas 20 pesos?” means “Can you lend me 20 pesos?” It’s a whole ‘nother tamale in Mérida. Here, "prestar" is more like "to borrow". So if I say, “Te presto 20 pesos” it really means, “Can I borrow 20 pesos?” Clear as Agua Crystal, right? Por: In Xalapa, people would say that I live on the street Golondrinas, "entre" (between) Martín Torres and Rebsamen. In Mérida, they would say that I live... Show more

I’m proud to say that the "jarocho" (from Veracruz) influence is everywhere. When we arrived in Playa del Carmen, we stumbled upon a small café called D’Andrade known for its delicious coffee from Coatepec, Veracruz. We dined amid photos of Xalapa and its "alrededores" (surroundings), enjoyed "café veracruzano" and ate "enfrijoladas" and "chilaquiles". Last night, while strolling down "La quinta avenida" (5th Avenue), we spotted Spiderman. Next to "El Hombre Araña" was a friend from Xalapa. The same scene has repeated several times since our arrival. ¡"Qué pequeño el mundo!" (What a small world!); ¡Que pequeño es Xalapa! (How small Xalapa is!) Yesterday we went to Tulum to check out the ruins and the beaches. While standing in line... Show more

In the United States, we are very racially sensitive. Given our dark past and turbulent present, racial stereotypes and language weigh heavily on our collective conscience. That’s why a couple other Cri Cri songs made me wiggle uncomfortably in my seat while my husband and kids danced and sang along with what seemed to me to be overt stereotypes. Then I remembered that the US and Mexico are two very different contexts, each with its own past and sensibilities. Our stereotypes do not apply to Mexico’s black population. Take a look at these songs and see if you understand what I mean: The title of the song, "Negrito Sandía" (Little Black Watermelon Boy), seemed offensive to me, but then came this verse: Negrito Sandía, ya no digas... Show more