Funny Very Mexican Moments
Every Expat has Mexican Moments
Every expat has their moments. I love my “Mexico Moments” as they are the stuff of adventure that would otherwise be lacking in my life. These are a few of late.
Room Service
I plan my weekly menu with precision. When I'm out of food, I'm really out of food. Even leftovers are worked into weekly plans: Monday's half cup of stir-fry is planned into Tuesday's vegetable quesadilla and so on. At the end of the prescribed plan, I’m cleaned out. I've honed it to a science.
Every now and then however, like those swinging monkeys in the African jungle, I tragically miscalculate. An unexpected event keeps me from going to the market the precise day when the refrigerator is completely empty. Usually I can take it. I fast.
One day however, a few hours back from the gym, I was unexpectedly and desperately famished. It was the kind of hunger so animal, so elemental, that it felt transcendent, individually alive. It sure as hell wasn’t going to wait until I went to the market, returned and cooked a meal.
There is a restaurant across the street from my building, a steakhouse. But I recoiled from taking even the time to get dressed, walk over, and wait beside the hostess stand for 20 minutes for an order. I checked the cabinets again. Nothing. Not so much as a grape.
I called the restaurant and asked if they’d bring me a meal. Anything. A taco, anything. Carlos reminded me that they didn’t deliver. I groaned. He relented since it was still early.
A regular waiter, dressed in white, walked across the street to my building, took the elevator up to my condo and brought the meal to my door. I tipped him a ridiculous amount of money (I think I just opened my palms with a pile of bills in them and let him take what he wanted. My mind had turned off.) He looked on to make sure I had all my order.
Primordial mayhem ensued. I almost didn’t use silverware, even for the beans. I ripped the little bags of salsa open without taking time to untie the knots in the tops of them. I put so many grilled onions on the already full tacos that they barely closed. I shoveled forkfuls of beans in my mouth, stuffed in right along with the taco, in the same mouthful. I almost wept as the food hit my stomach. The waiter, aghast, left me a menu as he backed out of the room.
Mexican Food Warning Labels
Not that long ago, the Mexican government started requiring food companies to display warning labels prominently on foods that have excessive calories, sugar, salt or fat. They aren’t kidding around either - you’ll find multiple stamps on oatmeal packets, peanut butter and yogurt, as well as the obvious culprits.
The ominous black warnings at least cause a person to give pause while running down the aisle of a OXXO grabbing up the bags of Sabritos and Coca Colas required for any party of over 2 people in Mexico. I can say that the black stamps work. I do pause - and detour to the assortment of equally unhealthy baked goods that can’t be labeled.
The labels all feel very well-meaning until you give a box of fancy chocolates as a gift for a friend and find yourself simultaneously delivering the now not-so-subtle message: Here Dear Mexican Friend, please accept this deadly package of diabetes and high blood pressure. Happy birthday. Te quiero.
Call of the Wild
As anyone who’s as addicted to Animal Planet as I am knows, members of the same species call out to one another in the wild.
Not long ago, while Arecelli, her daughter Fernanda and I were out taking pictures, our car was stopped in traffic behind one of those red open trucks with benches they have in Mexico to deliver groups of partiers to their throbbing destinations.
The one in front of us was full of Americans, drunk with freedom. One kept calling out "Yeah - ah!” You know the call. Instinctively, and to Aracelli and Fernanda's great surprise, I responded loudly in kind, as a member of the species, and we shared a joyful round of happy exchanges, terrifying Arecelli, who was afraid it was a battle cry.
Mexicans, too, have an interspecies cry, you’ll hear it in mariachi songs, banda and ranchera music. Not all Mexicans can do it well, so those who can are admired by all and viewed as desirable mates - at least that’s the understanding of all of us down here in the jungle.
About the author:
Kerry Baker is the author of four books. Recently released is The Lazy Expat: Healthy Recipes That Translate in Mexico, a book you will want to have with you for any extended stay in Mexico. Maintaining a healthy diet is impossible in Mexico without cooking. This book will show you how to shop, cook and plan with 150 easy, healthy recipes.
The Mexican Solution: Saving your money, sanity and quality of life through part-time life in Mexico is the only book out there on moving to Mexico that will not leave you numb and/or anxious. It’s all you need for the first phrase of moving to Mexico: An extended stay. If Only I Had a Place, is your guide to renting, how to avoid the pitfalls and capitalize on the opportunities of renting as a foreigner.