On Being American

To be an America living in and taking classes about Mexico can lead to some interesting situations. I am taking two classes – sociology and Mexican Society and Culture – that deal with the subject of America frequently. On the first day of class, we introduced ourselves, and I proudly stated that I was from Atlanta in the United States. This was a grave mistake as I have not been able to nap in either of these classes since, due to the fact that I now have to be on my toes to field questions that start with “Why don’t we ask our compañero. Compañero, what is ______ like in America?”

My sociology professor is of the opinion that because I am from America, I know all there is to know about anything that is, was, could be, or could have been in any way, however obscurely, connected to America. Sometimes I’m equipped to craft a response, but in other cases I’m not so in tune to what’s happening, as these events are passing in a foreign language. Below is a quick test of your own Americana knowledge consisting of questions I have been asked in class. I have helped by making it multiple choice.

1) What confusing spanish words Chicago School of Economics more spanish words culture of the United States?

a) McDonald’s

b) I don’t think the Chicago School of Economics has a football team, and if they do, they’re not in the SEC.

c) uh….capitalism?

I went with C on this one, more or less word for word, except that when you say “umm…” in Spanish, it sounds more like “ehmmmm…” I do in fact know the importance of the Chicago school of economics on American foreign policy, especially with respect to foreign policy in developing countries, but due to the confusing spanish words I didn’t quite know where all of that fit into the response.

2) What is the social dynamic like in the agricultural areas of America?

a) Tractors and square dancing

b) I don’t go to the University of Alabama.

c) I’m from a city of 5,000,000ish people, but I read city mouse country mouse once, and it seemed like a good time

This one I just kind of shook my head to. The guy from Utah next to me remained silent as well. I should have asked her what its like to live in Belgium. I fear the next question will be something along the lines of “What time do the UPS stores in Kansas close?”

To preface this next one, we were talking about the post world war two Marshall plan, in which the USA gave a lot of cash to Europe, which had a serious war-hangover from WWII, so that we could continue trading with them. We also pumped a little bit of good press into Europe stating how awesome it is to be American so that they would support our plan. No big. We were most definitely the good guy here. And then a student directed this question to our professor:

3) Why does America always brag about their way of life and then complain when people immigrate there?

As this was a question for the professor, I was kind of hoping she would field it, but she crumbled under the pressure and did the cowardly deed of shedding it off to me with those dreaded words “let’s ask our compañero…”

a) What?!? We don’t!

b) Ok so we do a little bit, but…

c) Wait a second. I’m like one dude from a country of three hundred million dudes. That’s more than all the bottles of Tecate and tequila in all of Mexico. I’m not about to speak on behalf of 300,000,000 people. What’s more, I wasn’t even alive in the 1940’s when the Marshall plan was around. Hit up ask jeeves.

I went with C on this one. After articulating my viewpoint, I was asked in follow up for only my personal opinion, so I briefly responded “I don’t complain.”

In addition to the direct questions, I’m often faced with very awkward atmospheres. In my class of Society and Culture of Mexico, we study Mexican history. In Mexican history there have been four “molestations” of the land – three of which involved their loving big brother of a neighbor to the north. We also learned that a Mexican politician (I forget his name) who wanted to nationalize Mexican oil in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s was assassinated by someone, with instructions and backing from you know who. Sometimes I catch people looking my way when we talk about things of this nature. When this happens I look back with an expression that sends the mixed message of “Hey man, listen, sorry about that I guess, this is news to me – it wasn’t me I swear. Let’s be friends.” which is often met with a quick glance back to the front of the room as if to say “I wasn’t looking at you just now because you’re American.”

Today while I was dining, a music video came on the television of a song called “Frijolero” by a group of three Mexicans and one American called Molotov. You can grab a listen to the song here, but I must warn that there are some vulgar lyrics both in Spanish and English. The song is mostly Spanish, but make sure you stick around until the chorus.

A translation of the lyrics can be found here: http://vdare.com/awall/molotov.htm , but I would ask that you please take with a large grain of salt everything else on the website.

The song is pretty strongly anti-American, and from what I have gathered, echoes the sentiment of a large portion of the Mexican population accurately. This means that hearing it in Mexican Company is strange at times. In other news, very little it censored here, so I got to hear the song in its entirety in the cafeteria.

At this point I would like to say to the blogsphere that I was listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd while writing this, that I love me some America,  and that I hope this post hasn’t given any other impression. We – America and Mexico – could just settle things with a friendly soccer match, no? Wait, we did, and the US won, 2-0. Case closed.