Talke talks: No Tex-Mex in Mexico

Howdy from Texas, dear readers,
We Germans have a divided relationship with our neighboring countries: either we admire them or they become the butt of our jokes – I don’t want to name any names (France and Poland). The Americans, as self-assured and in love as ever, do not admire their neighbors and hardly joke about them. Even though they may secretly wish for Canada’s healthcare system, no one wants to move into the Canadian cold. You limit yourself to making fun of the extreme politeness of Canadians every now and then, as if it were an offense. And this despite the fact that Americans, especially southerners, are overly considerate themselves with their constant “Sorry” and “Pardon me.” Every time I’m back in Germany, I have to remind myself not to apologize to anyone standing a meter away from me in the supermarket aisle.

Mexico, on the other hand, is treated as the evil cousin of the USA that no one wants to sit next to at family celebrations. It is said that migrants are coming from Mexico and taking jobs away from Americans. It was also said that Trump wanted to fix this problem by building his wall. So far only the political expertise has been fixed. Despite all the wall-building efforts, Mexican culture has long since become part of the American culture: 37.3 million people in the USA have Mexican roots, which is eleven percent of the total population. Mexico is also a popular beach vacation destination for Americans – not only because it is relatively cheap and beautiful, but also because the Americans, like most people in the West, like to remember how well they have things at home.

200 years ago the balance of power was somewhat different: Texas once belonged to the Viceroyalty of New Spain and then to independent Mexico for 15 years, and a few other US states for a little longer. How different our lives would be if we were still part of Mexico, I once thought. Since my trip to Mexico last week, I no longer believe that. Because the two countries have a lot more in common than they would like to think: the party mood (I was just at a Valentine’s Day party for my five-year-old – and at the Mexican wedding we were just invited to, I saw toddlers playing until four in the morning sleeping on chairs while parents danced); questionable dishes (the Americans pour canned soup into casseroles, the Mexicans drink ice-cold red wine), confused presidents (Biden confused Angela Merkel with Helmut Kohl, Peña Nieto referred to Hillary Clinton as Señora Trump) and even obesity.

Last year I was in Tulum with American friends. But we might as well have been in Tulsa or Tampa: we didn’t experience anything of the country except the glamor resort at gringo prices. This time everything was going to be different, my husband and I flew to Mexico City. Mexican friends made us unnecessarily afraid of the trip; Maybe they thought we were like the Americans who wear flip-flops and allow themselves to be taken advantage of by every half-baked fraudster and not a German-Russian couple who are overly cautious and in Birkenstocks and assume that everyone is trying to rip them off. We found a chaotic, crazy and very beautiful metropolis that is in no way inferior to New York, but is still much cleaner than the Big Apple. And it turns out that American-Mexican food, called “Tex-Mex” in Texas, has as little to do with real Mexican as pineapple pizza has with Italy.

Of course, the posters with all the people who have disappeared in the city – around 100,000 people, mostly due to kidnappings and cartel crime – made me sad. But I found the joy of life of the Mexicans and their cultural heritage with its pre-Hispanic elements, Spanish late baroque, French Art Deco paired with Mexican frescoes to be very impressive. A total of 700,000 Americans live in Mexico City and are taking away living space from Mexicans. Many Americans are not doing so well at home. It’s nice that the evil cousin takes her in.

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