Mexican Men Don’t Wear Shorts
I’ve always loved Mexico, it hasn’t always loved me.
As I gave the street band $100 MXN (pesos), on my last evening in Pto. Vallarta recently, I thought of the time when I was much younger, maybe my first time deep into Mexico. I was walking with my first wife and a friend that had the reputation of being a little, well, strange. My hair was as long as my attitude when I asked that band long ago, as they were walking to the venue of their gig, if they would play a song. They stopped and gave us one. I can’t believe I asked them if they wanted money, and when they said “sure”, I commented that the music in my country was free!
As if.
I’m lucky I didn’t end up wearing a guitar that day because, in no uncertain terms, I was the Ugly American. I was a young man that didn’t understand myself enough to even begin to understand how another culture might work. I can still see the questioning look on their faces as I smugly gave them a few pesos and continued on my way. It haunts me, my behavior.
It took me longer than it should have to begin to really observe the cultures I have visited; to lose my arrogance, or at least some of it. Not as long as some, given the observation of my own cultural peers, but long enough to be embarrassing. I can’t change my past, but I can go forward with better understanding, better empathy, and, hopefully, better communication.
Later in life, building a career as a designer on the craft circuit that was part of the burgeoning craft renaissance of the 1980’s, I began to tip street musicians very well. Somehow, I understood that they were a big part of the draw of the Saturday Markets and Craft Shows in which I sold my goods. Selfish motivation maybe, but a step in a better direction. These days my general rule is that if I like the music, or it somehow enhances my day, I try to tip generously. It depends on what sort of money I’m carrying. If not, I’ll still offer a smile but maybe not tip much or at all.
As an aside, have you ever wished it didn’t seem so weird to drop a bigger bill into a guitar case and take some change back out? That seems to happen to me frequently enough to be frustrating! I’d like to tip $5, or maybe even $10, but my smallest bill is a $20…sheesh. I’d love to hear what a musician would say, probably go ahead and make change man, better than no tip at all. But the appearance of taking money out of the music case would be traumatic…
I’ve digressed a little. Bear with me.
If you search the interwebs for why Mexican men, (or women) don’t wear shorts, you get a lot of interesting theories…from a gringo perspective. Most are on pages full of advice on what you, the tourist, should or should not wear when travelling. My degree is in Anthropology. Culture, its whys and wherefores, hold deep fascination for me, I still study that stuff. But it’s not real important to me why a culture is how it is when it comes to deciding how I’ll try to present myself within that culture. It comes down to respect. I want to signal that I respect the culture, and I want to generate respect for myself.
Within my own culture, I don’t mind setting myself up as an outlier. Though I don’t dress in particularly noticeable ways, I am sometimes outspoken in other ways. I like to challenge people, not to confront harshly, but to pique an interest, to offer the opportunity to question the dominant paradigm. Hence this blog, I guess. And hence my art. But when I’m outside of my home cultural milieu, I like to be seen as somewhat conforming. The rather obvious mistake I made earlier in my life was in challenging a culture about which I knew nothing and, worse, challenging it from my own cultural perspective. Tragic.
I’ve always loved Mexico, but I bet it hasn’t always loved me. These days I get along in Mexico pretty well though. I don’t wear shorts…unless I’m at the beach!
