o poster tube, where art thou?

Every now and then I need to purchase a product that I'd guess to be quite commonplace but then turns out to be completely unheard of in Mexico. Last year I had this problem in Huajuapan when I set out to buy some resume-quality paper. Turns out there's no such thing. This weekend I've run into it again as I've tried to buy a mailing tube for some posters I want to mail to a friend. You'd figure that it would be a fairly easy product to find, but now having inquired at probably every papeleria here (at there must be at least 50 of them) I've learned that this is a technology that has not yet been unveiled here. People seem to understand me when I explain what I'm looking for - a tube made of cardboard that could be used to send a rolled-up poster through the mail - but as I describe the thing it becomes clear that this is the first time the concept has ever entered the shopkeeper's consciousness. But they do seem to respond in such a way that suggests that they'd approve of such a product if it ever were to be invented. So maybe one day I'll make my own, patent the design in Mexico, and make a fortune. In the meantime, it looks like my friend is going to get a big manila envelope with some folded-up posters inside.

Housekeeping: trickle-down economics or insult?

I've been given some thought lately to getting a housekeeper.

Not the live-in kind, but just someone who could come by every week or so and tidy up. See, here in Mexico, things can get dirty fast. I have some pretty big windows, and those things are filthy within moments after I wash them. And it seems like every other day that I have to wipe a thick layer of dust off the surfaces around my apartment.

It's actually quite common here for average folk like me to have a once-a-week housekeeper, and from what others tell me, it's also quite affordable. Still, the concept of having someone clean my house makes me a little uneasy.

First, there's the personal responsibility issue. After all, the accumulation of scum in my shower stall is my doing and my doing alone, so really it seems like it should be my responsibility to clean it up.

Then, another thing that occurs to me is the whole power-structure/class relationship involved in having a housekeeper. I mean, just because someone has had the misfortune to be born into a lower socio-economic class than me, does that mean that they should also be forced to scrape three-day-old scrambled eggs off of my stovetop? That's just seems like adding insult to injury.

Now of course I realize that there are plenty of people out there who need work, so in that way I'd be doing someone a favor by hiring them to clean my house. And maybe I'd end up hiring someone who was really cool and we'd end up being friends or something.

You see, any way you slice it, it's a tough call. I guess I'd better think on it some more.

Breakfast

As far as I'm concerned, they really ought to pass a law saying that any restaurant that has breakfast items on their menu must serve those items during all hours that they are open. This "breakfast menu available until 11:00 a.m." business really must be stopped. It's just flat-out discrimination against that segment of the population that gets up at noon, I tell you.

When I go out looking for my first meal of the day at 1:00 p.m., my stomach is just not ready for tacos or tortas; I need huevos a la mexicana or hot cakes (yes, they're called that here, too). So when I sit down someplace, glance over the menu at all the delicious breakfast options only to be told by the waitperson that they stopped serving breakfast two hours ago, I feel that my basic human rights have been violated.

I'm not just talking about amending the Mexican constitution to protect the breakfast-eating rights of late risers; either. This is also a major problem in the U.S. and Canada, and probably in many other nations as well. So at the very least, the issue needs to be addressed during the next NAFTA meetings, and the WTO might want to start taking a look at it, too.

That said, if any of you find yourselves in the Centro Historico of Mexico City, you'll do well to stop in to La Pagoda, formerly known as Cafe Popular, on Cinco de Mayo and Filomena Mata. The Pagoda is not only open 24 hours, 365 days a year, it also serves delicious and inexpensive breakfasts during every minute of those 24 hours and 365 days. What's more, they have one of the best cups of coffee you'll find at an all-night diner. And if you stop by around 1, you might just see me there.

Tamazulapan

I was travelling around the countyside the other day and passed briefly though the Mixteca town of Tamazulapan. They were having a big festival there, and as my passenger van sat idling in traffic, I noticed a big sign advertising an event at the bull ring. I couldn’t tell if it was a bull fight or a bull riding, but in any case, they had listed the names of all the bulls who would be participating. Most had pretty fearsome names, like El Ejecutor (the Executioner), El Luminoso (the lumnious one), or Tiburón (Shark). But one name that caught my eye was El Periodista, or the Journalist. I just kept picturing a bespectacled bull with a pencil and pad in one hoof and a tape recorder tucked in his back pocket hasseling the torero with question after question. He didn’t seem all that fearsome, actually, and I think I’d even be willing to get in the ring with that guy.

There is also a nice thermal spring in Tamazulapan, which is where my doctor said I got my infection last month that I had (before coming back to the United States). So don't dunk your ear underneath the water if you go to the springs.

couple of coins

I've always appreciated countries that use large-denomination coins, or at least in larger denominations than we do in the US. When I lived in Arizona, I would often make trips into Nogales, and part of the fun of those trips was that I got to use the the coins. It just feels more like "real" commerce when you're paying for stuff in coins rather than slips of paper.

Here in Mexico, we have a 10-peso (US$1) and 20-peso (US$2) coin, and I'm a big fan of both. Although I should tell you that the later is not as common as the former. Nevertheless, they are both in circulation and are used quite frequently. You will recall from previous posts that change in general is an important thing in Mexico, you need to carry change with you everywhere.

Last month, for example, I went out to pick up a large pizza, and I paid for it with just a couple of coins. When you come from a country where the quarter is essentially the largest coin in circulation, and the only purchases you make with all coins are for things like packs of gum, you really feel like you're getting a bargain when you pay only in coins. So when I got that pizza, I felt like,"Wow, I paid nothing for that!"

Of course, I didn't really pay nothing for the pizza, but it's nice to at least treat yourself to that sensation.

Memin Pinguin

Last week, the Mexican postal service issued a stamp series commemorating "Memin Pinguin," a comic book character from the 1940s.

Black activists in the U.S., such as Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, who were already sore at Mexico's government after President Fox made an insensitive remark about U.S. blacks last month, have condemned the stamps as racist and offensive. The White House also issued a statement condemning the stamps, and activists in the small black community on southern Mexico have expressed indignation as well.

The Mexican government and media, on the other hand, have leapt to the defense of the stamps. "Memin Penguin is part of our culture," is the basic argument, and so, since the stamps are merely celebrating a part of Mexican history and culture, they are acceptable. The Mexican people seem to agree, and have flocked to buy the stamps. They sold out in two days.

While you certainly have to question the wisdom of a government that would issue a stamp that clearly was going to cause a controversy, one thing this government is very adept at is exploiting disagreements with the United States. So this week, we saw Foreign Minister Luis Derbez, Presidential Spokesman Ruben Aguilar, and even President Fox, speaking passionately in defense of poor little Memin Pinguin. Complaints against the stamp from the U.S. are blatant attacks on our culture, they told the Mexican public.

For a government that has offered little to the Mexican people and, as a result, doesn't have a heck of a lot of support here, resentment against the U.S. is always rich material for rallying the common man to their cause. And in the week leading up to an event celebrating the 5-year celebration of Fox's election, what better way to get people on your side than to lash out at attacks from the U.S.? The "cultural " angle is a very good one as well, for as Mexicans find their country more and more overwhelmed with U.S. fast food restaurants, Wal-Mart stores and Hollywood movies, they are very sensitive to issues of cultural imperialism from the north.

But unfortunately, as the government and the Mexican media (which often tends toward sensationalism) have turned the controversy into a purely cultural conflict, the issue as to whether the stamp might actually be offensive to black people has been essentially ignored. People have been so quick to dig in their heels to defend Memin Penguin and their culture, they seem entirely unwilling to even consider that the image, while acceptable in the 1940s, is offensive to many in 2005. Even Elena Poniatowska, one of the nation's most acclaimed authors and left-leaning intellectuals, spoke out in defense of the stamp. I saw a quote from her this week saying that images like Memin and a popular folk song called something like "Little Black Watermelon Boy," are, in fact, demonstrations of the affection that Mexicans feel for black people. The only public condemnation I have seen of the stamps came from the leftist newspaper La Jornada, but they were criticizing the Fox government for causing an unnecessary diplomatic row rather than criticizing the wisdom of reproducing and celebrating outdated and insensitive imagery.

When I have talked to people I know about the stamp, the responses I get are: "Memin Pinguin is part of our culture," "He was created in the 1940s, and so he reflects the norms of that period," "Memin is an adorable character, not a villain in any way, so how is he offensive to blacks?" and, "Who are Americans to criticize us when they're the ones whose culture is racist?"

I've also seen a couple of TV news reports where they've interviewed people on the street or in line at the post office about the stamp controversy. "Of course the stamp isn't racist, Memin Pinguin is an adorable character that all Mexicans love," is the usual comment. Funny that I haven't seen any news reporters venturing into the black Mexican communities in Veracruz, Oaxaca or Guerrero to get their perspective.

And that's the argument I keep hearing here: "Memin Penguin doesn't offend me, so therefore he's not offensive. You who are offended are at fault for your misinterpretation." In fact, that's essentially the argument Fox made last month after his comment that Mexicans in the U.S. "do the jobs that not even blacks will do." No, said Fox, the statement was not racist, and it's really too bad that the African-American community interpreted it as such.

Mexicans laugh at Americans sometimes for their ultra-sensitivity. And yeah, extreme PC-ism deserves to made fun of. But I'm not sure if a total lack of concern for sensitivity -- like calling overweight people "fatty" or referring to handicapped people as "minusvalidos," or "less valids" -- is any better. Seems like there should be a happy medium out there somewhere.

And yeah, I can understand why Mexicans would get a kick out of something that winds up the gringos so much. But at the same time, they should remember that it's not just the U.S. that is viewing these stamps; the rest of the world is seeing them now thanks to this controversy. And I don't think that Memin Pinguin is going to do much to improve the world's view of Mexico.

paying the bills and carlos slim

Much like when I was living in the States, here in Mexico, I'm regularly confronted with a pile of bills to pay. I've got my electric bill, my water bill, my phone bill; basically the only difference is that here I have no heating bill (like my bro in the east).

But there is also a difference in how I pay my bills here. In the States, I'd sit down each month, write out a separate check to each entity, put a stamp on each envelope, and drop them all in the mail. Here in Mexico, it's actually a bit simpler. Instead of writing checks and mailing my bills individually, I can pay them all at once at the bank. So when I go to deposit my paycheck at the bank, I grab whatever fistful of bills I have outstanding at the moment and pay them at the same time. It's a suprisingly easy and efficient way of doing things.

Of course, part of the reason for this efficient system of bill paying may be that the postal service is so unreliable. If you were to try to mail a check to the phone company here, it might not get there for weeks. In fact, it might not get there at all. And timeliness in paying your bills is crucial here -- you don't get the same grace period you do in the U.S. I was slow to pay my phone bill last month, and so one morning when I picked up my phone to call a friend, instead of a dial tone I got a recording from Telmex telling me: "Your service has been suspended until you pay your bill." Honestly, it had only been a few weeks since the bill had been issued. These guys don't mess around.

A funny thing I also found out recently about my water bill is that it has a statute of limitations for payment. I had temporarily misplaced the most recent water bill, then re-discovered it and brought it to the bank yesterday. The teller was trying to process it for me when she noted that the payment deadline had been May 31. "You can't pay this bill," she said. "It expired May 31 and today is June 3." I asked her what to do, and she said just to wait, that they'd probably send another one or something. But unlike the phone company, in the meantime they haven't turned off my water. Seems like they just should have let me pay the bill.

One somewhat creepy thing about the bill-paying system here is that in addition to banks, you can also pay most of your bills at Sanborn's restaurants. See, Sanborn's is owned by Carlos Slim, the world's fourth-richest man and the owner of just about everything in Mexico, it would seem. Since most of your money just ends up in his pocket anyway, he's developed his own bill payment network that allows you to pay him directly with no middleman. It's almost like we've got this one-man shadow oligarchy in Mexico, which is why, even though I know most of my money goes right to Carlos Slim, I feel a little bit more comfortable paying my bills at the bank rather than Sanborns.