Friday, June 18, 2010
Mexicans are Proud to be Mexican
The World Cup. I’ve never had more fun watching it than now that I’m in Mexico. My mom said that during the Mexican games: México se paraliza ... (Mexico freezes). She is soo right. On the day of the game, I saw tons of people with green jerseys on. Some closed their stores and others called for a national holiday. Listening to the radio, people honked their horns during exciting parts. People skipped classes... My teacher even told us we could skip which, of course, I did. It was sooo worth it. For both of the games, I went to two Mexican parties that had 40 to 45 people. Perhaps shamefully, I have been more excited about the Mexican games than the U.S. games. But, come on, how can I help it? 40 people screaming “GOOOOOOOOOL” is pretty exciting and intense... Besides, I prolly learned more Spanish being surrounded by Mexicans for 10 hours than in one class period... I can’t even explain how different Mexico City is from my experience in the U.S,; Mexicans party hard when they lose- imagine how happy they are when they win! Chicharito! Chicharito! Chicharito!
I’ve been thinking about what this means. Mexicans are proud to be Mexican. Are people from the U.S. proud? I think we are. But, it’s a more delicate issue. For one, I have experienced resentment against the United States and so sometimes I catch myself whispering “American”. Besides this, people like to describe themselves as a piece of pie: I’m a quarter Italian, a quarter Polish, 1/32 Cherokee Indian and then a lot of mutt. Do Americans have to define themselves as something, anything besides American? This brings up another interesting topic. Can we actually even call ourselves Americans? Because aren’t Mexican, Costa Ricans, Canadians also Americans? We can’t really even say Northern Americans because there are three countries in North America.... The United States of America coule refer to United States of Mexico.... Let me state, I actually don’t really care. I’m going to call myself an American, or una Gringa, or an Italian. But, a person can see how it would annoy the other Americans, that we claim a continent as our own...
Guess what? It rains in my house. Half of the house doesn’t have a roof. How bomb is that?! I’m guessing that the part without a roof used to be an alley between two houses. I’m so jealous. We have to insulate our houses in the U.S. And, trees don’t grow in houses in podunk Bemidji, MN... :( This house is awesome and I can’t believe how comfortable I feel in it. My family is absolutely wonderful. They often ask me if I am happy and if I like the food: ¡¡Si, si, si!! Estoy muy feliz y ¡¡a mí me encanta la comida!! ¡Gracias, Carmen! They feel comfortable enough to make fun of me which I love because I’m all about teasing... Ali: “Aqui comió un pollo” (Here a chicken ate) Me: “¿Qué?” Ali: “Look at your placemat.” Me: “Ha, ha, ha. I guess I did make a mess...” Another example that “Gracie” might not fit my level of refinement.
I love Mexico. Sorry, ‘rents- I’m not sure that I will be ready to come home in 3.5 weeks.
Posted by Grace Robia at Friday, June 18, 2010