Mi Querida: Vete a la Verga

Living in a different country means you’re exposed to cultural differences. In Mexico, for example, eyes are not just for putting behind sunglasses and making a connection with a hot ass but for human consumption. Lateness is not shunned but welcomed. Clipping your nails on the street it not a disgusting breach of human decency but a healthy and common pastime.

I could, of course, be wrong, but it does seem that Mexico transcends mere cultural difference and is, quite simple, an excessively hypocritical country. The Spanish, and specifically Columbus, ruined everything. Mueren Gachupines, etc etc etc. And yet everyone’s traipsing around with their Barcelona jerseys and itching to tell me about how they have Spanish ancestors. Oigan – you can’t have your pastel and comer it, too. Pick a side.

(On a side note, why are Mexicans allowed to complain about the Conquista, which happened so long ago, and no one bats an eye, and if you say one thing about the Germans being Nazis you’re met with a barrage of pro-Deustch commentary about how it wasn’t their fault and they love Jews and gays? Anyone?)

On that note, we have the omnipresent issue of lineage. The first thing people tell you when you’re an American or European here in Mexico is that they have European lineage. They talk about how their great (great great great) grandparents came here, and it was so funny because they loved the tomato in Italy and as God would have it, the tomato is actually Mexican in origin, so yeah. Imagine. People tell you this last name is Spanish, or that piece of hideous furniture was originally French, or how the way in which their mother makes the best tacos (FYI: there are 54.8 million mothers making the best tacos in Mexico) is actually based on an Italian recipe from Strega Nona, who got it from the Pope himself. And yet any time its convenient to be Mexican, these people have never even heard of Europe. Mexico is the best country in the world. After all, they invented color television.

It’s kind of like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, in which the father thinks everything originated in Greece. Recently, I was at my BF’s house and we were making French toast for breakfast.

Ah! French toast. Said his father. The French originally made it, but then a Mexican who was too poor to afford les baguettes took some pan Bimbo and voila – french toast.

Another winner came from the previous speaker’s lifelong counterpart regarding the Palais de Versailles. The conversation went something like this: “The PdeV is so beautiful.” “Yeah, and our taxes paid for every last INCH of it.” Fact: Mexico was indeed under French rule. Fact: Maybe the people living in this time period were forced to pay taxes that subsidised some of the PdeV. Fallacy: Anyone living in current times was alive during this era. Nor were they Mexican because they’re really from Europe. Apparently. And being gay is trendy.

Another cornerstone of Mexico is the Family. The Family Unit is rock solid, and can conquer anything. Most men in Mexico cheat, which strengthens the tenacity of the family. The parents keep the children under lock and key until they’re in their mid to late twenties, at which point they pay for a lavish wedding to make them forget their boring oppressed childhood, get shuttled into a new home, and listen to criticism from in-laws for the rest of their life, stopping only to get knocked up or cheat on their wives. Mothers do not get the required love from their husbands so they turn perversely yet oh-so-naturally to their sons, who must bow down to every beck and call of their overbearing matriarchs, thus ignoring their girlfriends and wives, which angers said females which causes the men to cheat and thus the cycle begins again. So long as there are no gays, abortions, or divorces (God’s so not into that shit) everyone will go to heaven.

What I’m really writing about, though, is cultural differences. And FaceBook. So everyone SOTB is raised perfectly; we’ve established that. Yet something seems to happen on the Internet. Maybe they don’t think the all-knowing eye can penetrate the pixels, but these people lose all sense of decency when the hit the web.

Case in point: my BF has had “In A Relationship”in his profile since January of this year. This past summer, I saw that an ex-flame of his had written, out of nowhere, “Hey babe, so when are we gonna take a walk or go for another ice cream? You’re looking really good and I’m in my prime lololol kisses.” Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but this is kind of slutty.

This was obviously not an exclusive incident. Every once in a while a similar message will surface: Hey hottie; Hey I wanna see youuuuuuuuuu; OMGBJOMGBJ. I don’t fault him but rather the females  for being shameless and retarded. I don’t want to say this is exclusive to Mexico, nor that ALL mexicanas do this. I do think that us neuyorquinas, as more genderifically equal and self-aware and not-adhering-to-stupid-cultural-norms tend to be more reasonable and less baby-like, and I don’t know a single girl back home who would ever write anything remotely sexual to anyone with a boyfriend on FB, unless it was a sabatoge attempt in which case we’d be a helluva lot more blunt.

And there’s this eerie cousin thing, so borderline incestuous you could basically call it such, in which they all send each other messages with lots and lots of te kierooooooo muuuuccchhoooooooos and trillions of kisses and hugs and handjobcitos. I’m sorry, as an American, it creeps the hell out of me.

Maybe it’s me. I try to limit FaceBook friending to actual friends and people with whom I’d like to keep contact – people you meet while traveling, for example. I see no need for my parents or employers to see a picture of me with a shot of tequila in one hand and my boyfriend’s crotch in the other with the caption: “Which should go in my mouth first?” I simply don’t. Nor do I need to one day down said tequila in a PMS-depression and sit around perusing the exs’ pages to see if I’m hotter than the currents (you know you do it). It’s a waste of time. Yet in Mexico, being a friend of a friend of a friend is a reason to Friend someone. Maybe I’m too self-aware and have been shady too many times that I think all girls want to fuck all guys (we do).

The point is, infidelity and sleaze in general are best done in secret. I don’t 100% agree with this, but society does. In most circles, it is wrong to have two boyfriends. I’m still struggling with this, and have been constantly begging for an open relationship for months, which apparently makes me a slut but I don’t care. I won’t do it, though, out of respect. And that’s what these people lack.

Viva.

 

 

 

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