Monday, October 20, 2008

Yes, I am la Guerita: about those derogatory pet names



"The good flavor/taste of my little black girl" - I think it's safe to say this name for a restaurant would never fly in the United States.

When I studied abroad in Cuba, we had various work shops in preparation and were provided a handbook on "culture shock." One of the first pieces of advice? Don't get mad if people call you "Gordita" (little fatty). Indeed, it is somewhat common throughout Latin America for people to mine your appearance for pet names - chaparrita (Shorty), flaca/flaquita (Skinny), chinita (Curly-haired) and, in my case, guerita, which translates loosely to Whitey or Blondie. One of the girls on our trip to Cuba was from Guam and, on account of her Asian features, was universally called "Chinita" (little China girl). In three months, she made little progress pointing out she was not from China.
I probably get called guerita at least one or two times a day, usually by vendors trying to get my attention (Que le damos, guerita?), sometimes by taxi drivers making kissing noises as they pass me on the street.
Is it offensive? Maybe a bit. Can I deny that I am indeed a Whitey? No. So basically I will take this Mexican custom and get used to it because I'm sure not going to succeed in changing it. And why would I complain when the building caretaker calls me "mi guerita, la mas bonita" (my little blondie, the prettiest one)? I'll take it.


*And a final note - La Guera is also a popular name for restaurants and businesses, as evidenced by this banner in Mercado Jamaica. There is nowhere I get called "guerita" more that in the market - check out the sound clip to experience the market as I do.




"Futbol Soccer" - you could say it's a passion here

From La vida chilanga


"I believe in a single, all-powerful team, called the machine of Cruz Azul, creator of the goal on their home field and any field they visit. I believe in a single team, the only team of the Azul Stadium, over and above any other team. Amen."
- prayer sticker on the window of a small bus in Ciudad Nezahualcoyotl

Since I got here, people have been pressuring me to pick my soccer team team. America is the team for Mexico City, however they win a lot so in a way they're kind of hated for that. As far as I can tell, loyalties are split between America, Cruz Azul and the Pumas, the team of the UNAM, Mexico's major public university. And there are those rogues who root for Chivas, the Guadalajara team. I'm not much of a spectator, so I've remained fiercely independent so far. I think it will probably all come down to which team has the colors I like best...

Guess this sound



For months, I would hear this bizarre sound echoing through the streets perhaps one or two times a week. I never managed to walk to it fast enough and after many sleepless nights, I finally asked a friend what in the world it was. Just so you can have the fun of guessing (you will NEVER get it), I'll toss the answer down near the bottom on the right.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Desfile Navideño / the big, bad Christmas Parade on Reforma



Angels and devils and zebras and alebrijes and the Virgin Mary in a bicitaxi - what more could you want?

(Okay, I admit I'm slightly behind on uploading given it's almost Christmas...again).

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Gas costs how much??!! That's obscene!




I am only writing this post because I am safely in Mexico City, and since in the course of a year none of you have come to visit me, I don't even think wanting to kill me will get you guys down here. Why would you want to kill me, your dear friend?

The latest news out of the capital:

***THE MEXICAN GOVERNMENT IS RAISING GAS PRICES****

Aaaahhhh!

A couple notes on the whole gas thing in Mexico, which is the world's 10th largest producer of oil. There is only one kind of gas station in Mexico - Pemex, so that means wherever you go, gas costs exactly the same. There's none of that going to the gas station in the sketchy part of town because gas costs 3 cents less a gallon. It is state-owned, heavily subsidized and in the news as of late because heavy investment is needed to find new oil reserves. There are calls for privatization and of course, counter-marches in favor of keeping gas in the hands of the people led by everyone's favorite never-say-die frustrated presidential candidate Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador (AKA el Peje).

However, even Mexico's heavily subsidized gasoline is not immune to rises in the price of gas. With the 6 centavo hike, gas in Mexico now costs...ready yourself...

$2.77 a gallon.

Please don't kill me. And don't mind my maniacal cackling.

Mexico - #1 in tacos, tequila and REALLY creepy mannequins



First of all, this image is just a taste. You ain't seen nothing yet. Mannequins are liberally used and abused here in Mexico. A common display technique is for half of the store to be comprised entirely of huge windows chock full of mannequins, usually decked out in enormous Quinceanera dresses or men in suits and guayaberas. Many of these stores are jammed into enormous market floors so you find yourself walking through a sort of forest of partygoers. Really creepy partygoers with huge eyes and outrageously long eyelashes.
This metrosexual mannequin was no exception. He had the unfortunate luck to be the mannequin for a store selling crutches, slings and all manner of post-accident wear. I'm still unclear on what trauma resulted in him wearing the beige man-diaper. The poor guy also had a neck brace, a sling and a finger cast. Talk about a bad day.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Would you like chipotle with your California roll?



Eating tacos is a unique cultural experience in Mexico. So is eating sushi.

Just as in the States, sushi is now ubiquitous in Mexico with the two major chains, Sushi Itto and Mr. Sushi, vying for space in every food court across the country. Every menu has the standards: miso soup, fried rice, yakisoba noodles, and, of course, nigiri rolls of eel, tuna, salmon... However, the highlight of the menu is the specialty rolls.
As the Sushi Itto corporate video puts it, "We incorporated new flavors based on suggestions from customers." And thus were born the Si se puede Roll, CuauhtemItto and Tlapan especial. Not to mention the chain's signature soy sauce which apparently has over 40 ingredients and tastes like soy sauce and orange juice. Did I mention that 80% of the menu includes cream cheese?
Other top additions include fruit (mango, fried banana and pineapple), chiles toreados, chipotle mixed with mayonnaise, and salsa Tampico (crab surimi, mayonnaise and green chile).
So how is it? Hmmmm...I'll put it this way, all my Mexican friends love it. I'm down with the chipotle and mango, but the fish is iffy quality and it's smothered in cream cheese. But you don't have to take my word for it because, that's right, Sushi Itto has expanded into the States, one of the only Mexican franchises ever to do so.
“Right now, Alberto and I are experimenting in the States,” commented the founder in this article. “For example, we notice people in the States don't like cream cheese.”


Sushi Itto San Diego

Sunday, May 25, 2008

DF by night - the endless city

Smoke-free



Portland progressive? Hah! I´ll have you know that all bars and restaurants in Mexico City are now smoke-free. Mexico is a place where oodles of people smoke. All the time. Indoors. The authorities wisely did not pass this ordinance during the rainy season. So far, the major effects of the ordinance seem to be giving State of Mexico (the home of a great part of the metropolitan area) a veneer of coolness and libertarianism because you can still smoke there and making bars with rooftop bars extra popular.

Meet me on Ixtlememelixtle Street



When I lived in Portland, Oregon, I had a single map that fit in my purse and covered the just about the whole metropolitan area. Here in Mexico City, I couldn´t live without my Guia Rojí, which has more like 200 pages and is an artistic masterpiece. Adam had it easy - how many animals are there, really? Try naming every street in a metropolis that covers 570 square miles with endless little alleys and byways. Neighborhoods often have themes when it comes to the street names – here in Polanco, they´re all authors, so nearby streets include: Carlos Dickens, Jorge Shaw, Homero, Virgilio and, of course, Hans Christian Anderson.
This excellent essay, which I first read in the coffee table book/photo exhibit ABCDF, which is great collection of essays and photos having to do with Mexico City, says it better than I could.

Tim Wiener. “A city hears poetry in the naming of streets.” The New York Times. Aug. 7, 2000.

The map of one of the largest metropolises in the world is a form of literary masterpiece. The Guía Roji can be read as if a writer of magical realism had translated the encyclopedia, made it into confetti and sprinkled over the city.
This is not a place where people live on 88th and Third, as in Manhattan, or 35th and P, as in Washington. This is a place where people live at Heart and Soul. Here one lives on Light Forest, Water Mirror, Forest of Miracles, Garden of Dreams, Tree of Fire, Forest of Secrets, Sea of Dreams. The surreal names of the streets can reflect quite true realities. Work is long. Love and Happiness are short. Good Luck crosses Hope, which is a dead-end street. Las Bocacalles become imaginary works. The Volga River runs into the Nile, Beethoven meets Bach, Himalaya crosses the Alps.
And Understanding ends in Silence.
Fewer than a million people lived here at the start of the 20th century, nearly 20 million at the start of the 21st. With a city endlessly spilling over its borders, long ago, the city´s founders ran out of dead presidents, revolutionary heroes and battles for which to names streets, avenues and boulevards. As a consequence, the Guía Roji have a list of more than 100 places named for the national hero, Benito Juarez. There are more than 200 streets named after Venustiano Carranza, author of the Mexican Constitution and about 300 for Lázaro Cárdenas, considered by some Mexico´s greatest president. Upon being asked about any address, the residents of the city should react like the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy asks how to arrive to the Emerald City – pointing two different ways at once.
It is not the sheer number of streets named the same that overwhelms the senses, but the sheer magic in so many of the names among the 70,000 odd streets. The city mapmakers have perservered with an endurance perhaps more poetic than practical. But they must be near their wits´end.
They have exhausted the names of the world´s great landmarks, drained the lexicon of oceans and seas, rivers and lakes, paid tribute to all the gods and goddesses, the birds and flowers, the colors of the palette, the signs of the zodiac, the names of the saints, the better-known stars and constellatioins.
The major arts, crafts and sciences are taken and the minor ones are going fast. Other capitals, conceivably, might also have a boulevard dedicated to Bacteriology or Beekeeping. Mexico City also has a Cardionalogy Street and Astronomy Street, Orthodontist Street and Hairdressers Street, Publicists Street and Biographers Street. Significantly, the street dedicated to authors is not a street, but Novelists Circle.
Let Paris have its sidewalk semioticians, Mexico City may be the only place in the world dedicated to a school of literary criticism – Structural Analysis Street.
Mexico´s calendar is full of holidays and dates of historical significance. So is its capital, there are streets named for the fifth day of January, February, March, May, June, July, September, October, November and December. The first of May, the anniversary of Mexico´s victory in 1862 over French forces, has a special place. Many actually.
More than 200 streets with the name Cinco de Mayo are listed. There are more than 100 streets named for days of the year, giving a newcomer a nearly one-in-three chance of choosing an address matching her birthday.
There is a Squid Street and a Shrimp Street and, for better or worse, a Tuna Fish Street. There is Avocado Street, Onion Street and Cilantro Street, Corn Street, Rice Street and Bean Street are here, but, surprisingly, Mexico City has no Chicken Street (although Kabul, Afghanistan does). There are streets named Fountain of Hope, Fountain of Light and Fountain of Happiness, of course, but there is also the somewhat hallucinatory Fountain of Mushrooms.
Mindful of its place as a world city, the capital has christened streets in the name of Greek Culture, Roman Culture, Mexican Culture, Aztec Culture, Mayan Culture, Physical Culture and just a plain Culture, along with World Cinema Street and a generic Cinema Street. Social Action Street and Public Assistance Street stand for civic virtures, although National Unity Street deadends.
Whole neighborhoods are dedicated to canonic writers and composers, scientists and philosophers. One can stand on the corner of Tolstoy and Dante, Dickens and Moliere, Verdi and Wagner, Socrates and Homer, Shakespeare and Darwin, imagining their conversations.
There are 21 streets named Peace, but 18 named High Tension (after public utilities, not private miseries). Democracy, Justice and Human Rights are in a tough neighborhood. Panama Canal is barely 100 meters long, but 100 Meters Avenue runs nearly a mile.
Mexico City´s respect for the past sometimes passes understanding. Russia has liquidated the memory of its worst dictators. But when Mexico City taxicab meters, which sometimes malfunction, usually in the driver´s favor, break down completely, thay are repaired on Stalin Street. Stalin lies a block away from Trotsky in Mexico City some 60 years ago. By no coincidence, Siberia Street is four blocks away.
Some names have been clearly conceived. There is a Nafta Street, in a neighborhood called Plenitude. Obscurity Street runs hopefully into Tomorrow Avenue. Others seem intended to drive mailmen mad. In one suburban neighborhood, there are two difference streets named for the same Islamic republic. One is Pakistan. The other is Paquistán. Then there are the names in Náhuatl, the language of the people who were here before the conquistadores, which sound like music from another planet: Panquetzaliztli, Cetlaltepetl, Ixtlememelixtle. But in cities as in science, mindbending complexity can contain beautiful simplicity. A great green park stands near the heart of this urban beast. An avenue graced by Art Deco buildings circle this park. And the people who live there have an unforgettable address: Mexico Avenue, Mexico City, Mexico.

Fresas, Juniors, and Nacos

The sociocultural classes of the United States can largely be traced back to the cliques of high school: the Jocks, Preps, Punks, Hicks, Goths, Stoners, Hipsters, Emos, Gangstas…
“Sociocultural” is really far too highfallutin´ a word for a definition based nearly entirely on the music you like, the clothes you wear and whether you spend the hours after school playing football, smoking pot or tagging. However, we´ve been classifying everything else since long before the Dewey decimal system so here goes..
Here in Mexico, the disparaging designators most thrown around are: Fresa, Junior and Naco. I have gotten into a number of discussions with my friends here, trying to come up with equivalent terms and clear-cut definitions for these widely recognized types.

A first attempt at a definition (Pido a mis amigos mexicanos que me echen la mano, por favor):

Fresa (literally strawberry): Pretty close to the American Prep. Characterized by earnestness, cheesiness, a very narrow view of what´s cool and what´s not, and little tolerance for the off-beat, sarcasm or irony. If you´ve got it, flaunt it. A fair amount of overlap with the Juniors. They wear designer clothes picked up on trips to "ir de shopping" in Texas, pepper their speech with American slang and listen to very vanilla pop en español (do I have to bring up Timbiriche? The Mexican version of Back Street Boys).
Here´s a list of some fresa slang like "super nice" and "osea" and here´s a list of "You´re fresa if"

Junior: A uniquely Mexican type in my eyes. Basically rich brats who have never worked a day in their life and probably never will like Tenoch in "Y Tu Mamá, También" or sort of akin to the Trust Fund Babies of the East Coast with whom I had some contact in college. To my eyes, fresas, but even more obnoxious if that´s possible.

Naco: The defining characteristic of a Naco is bad taste and perhaps a lack of class as far as I can tell. The closest equivalent I´ve come up with are Red-neck/hick or White Trash and the adjective “tacky” which don´t quite do the term justice. The American “Red-neck/hick” is more loaded with class judgments, mingled with a little city snobbery towards the kissing cousins and country bumpkins that supposedly populate rural America. Much as teenagers have White Trash parties, people here have Naco parties at which the dress is kind of like 80s/early-90s, hideous to the max. My friend says Naco doesn´t have to do with how much money you have, but your taste. For instance, she said it is Naco to cover your dashboard will all kinds of crap and doodads.
There´s a whole ton of "How naco are you?" quizzes floating around that I can´t really translate, much less explain. Here´s one. Here´s a long posting of "You´re naco if..." Seriously, most of it flies over my head. All you UC Berkeley Raza studies kids, I´m thinking thesis topic.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Sounds like Mexico City - less blah blah, more rock

The basic criteria for this playlist? That it´s a song I´ve heard way too much or I like - good songs, rocking songs, possibly atrocious songs, lo que está sonando...take a listen.



*You can also listen here if you want to play all, and click here to also see my comments about the songs.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Driving in DF - Adventures in Mortality


(Okay, not the classiest graphic to pull off Google to illustrate the traffic reality of DF, but seriously, typical. And I think the thought bubble is just as accurate- "F***, it's a three-day weekend and I want to go get trashed!!" For me, the measure of my progress at learning Spanish wasn't the usual benchmark of dreaming in Spanish, but rather swearing like mad in Spanish in my head...often while driving here in fact.)

My friend, Ana, called me the other day, elated. "Guess what? I got a driver's license!" That she was pursuing a driver's license was news to me "...Yeah, I went with my boyfriend and my sister and we all got one!"
"That's great, Ana! What did you have to do?"
"There was a test, we did really bad. But they still gave it to us. I don't even know how to drive!"
And there you have it, my friends. DF is a seething mass of narrow, one-way streets, hidden stop signs, blind corners and illegally parked cars populated by drivers who don't know how to drive and insane taxi drivers. But no worries, mom!

Let's start with some basic survival tips:

1. Drive a tank. Not possible? Too bad...
2. Drive like a maniac. This may some counterintuitive. In the U.S., we have this informal thing called the "Rules of the Road" that is basically a set of assumptions like if we arrive to a stop sign at the same time, the person on the right will proceed first. It's not that Mexicans don't have a shared set of assumptions, they're just different ones. Really, they're a set of things you can't assume such as: That the other drivers know how to drive. That they will use their turn signals. That they will stop at stop signs and red lights. That they will go the correct direction on one-way streets. Basic stuff like that. So, if you make a very strong stop at a stop sign, you see, the guy behind you was not expecting to do that, so he might quite rightfully rear-end you. Kind of coast through if possible. And when you're at an unmarked intersection, just keep inching the nose of your car forward until you're blocking them and they have to let you pass.
3. Lay on the horn. Even if you can see that they are boxed in and can't do anything to get out of the way. DF is far too quiet and it really helps.
4. Wear a seatbelt. If you have one in your car. Not because of a strong belief in its power to protect you, but because the polis will now pull you over and charge a mordida. Ditto on talking on your cell.
5. Tie a rosary around the rear-view mirror and that should pretty much protect you from any traffic accident. Taxi drivers might want to double up with a shiny Virgen of Guadalupe sticker as well. The Playgirl bunny sticker probably doesn't hurt either.

Postscript: This article from the L.A. Times says it better than I ever could. With the bonus of research, interviews and historical context. Buenisimo.

Post-Postscript: The photo above is from a blog rant about traffic before three-day weekends, which I will offer up as Mexican Spanish 101 for this week as it correctly utilizes in just three paragraphs these key expressions: No mames, pinche, desmadre, putamadre, cabron, pedo, chupar, vete a la verga and chinga su madre (which you, FYI, should NOT use). Let the learning begin. Click here.

History - not just the name of a Michael Jackson album

A couple of months ago, the advertisement above started showing up on billboards all over Mexico City. It first came to my attention however when my co-workers unfolded a poster of the image from the newspaper and started busting up with laughter. "Que piensas, Sierrita?" Chistisisimo - obviously! Not at all surprisingly, not all my paisanos feel the same way, particularly those loveable Minutemen who are always ready with a soundbyte.
What I love is that this is an actual map of the border before the 1848 Mexican-American war. People so rarely get riled up about history anymore that I’ll pretty much take what I can get. So high five to Absolut who knows full well that a few apologies are a low price to pay to win over millions of Mexicans who have taped up the poster in their bedroom and waiting for the census that will make the map seem downright current.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Ayúdenme realizar mis sueños - de hecho, es bien fácil

¡Hola amigos mexicanos! No se preocupen - no tengo planes de salirme de México muy pronto, pero de todas formas, mi meta este año es conocer lo más que puedo de DF y de todo México. Ya tengo una lista de recommendaciones de varios amigos pero faltan muchas cosas - la lista incluye todo, de lugares que debería conocer hasta comidas que tengo que probar hasta cosas que debería hacer...La puse al lado de blog, a la derecha. Les pido que me ayuden hacer una lista tan larga y increible que me va a costar toda la vida hacer y probar todo Y que me digan a donde me van a acompañar. ¡Gracias por adelantado!

And my dear gringo friends, since my Mexican friends will be helping me make the best Mexican hit list of all time - books, movies, music, places, food, etc. - I don´t want all of you to feel left out, so if you are so inclined, you can certainly send me your tip-top recommendations for Americana-ness. Amigos mexicanos - dime si tienen planes ir a los Estados Unidos, actualmente tengo amigos en San Francisco, Berkeley, San Luis Obispo, Mendocino, Chicago, Nueva York, Portland, Seattle...y más allá, todos viajeros, y todos les pueden ayudar si van a los EEUU, como un intercambio.

Thanks for the receipt, but I won´t be returning my use of the sanitary facilities

Most of the ¨public¨toilets in Mexico are pay-toilets for 3 pesos. Your 3 pesos does not buy you a clean, comfortable seat, it does not guarantee the absence of unpleasant smells, it does not guarantee a functioning lock nor necessarily a door - it buys you 4-8 squares of toilet paper. At the majority of these facilities, you also get a receipt.
Which I think must have some legal function or something, like tracking use, but I still think it´s downright funny. The receipt above from my trip to La Marquesa, a park just outside of DF, was one of my favorites since it features a lovely picture of trees and a mountainside. I´ll have to tuck it in my scrapbook.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

¡¡¡Grande, Grandísimo, GRANDOTE!!!!

One of my favorite things about Spanish is how you can manipulate the words. Add an -ito and you´ve miraculously shrunk the item in question. Dog = perro, puppy = perrito. A little bit = un poco, A little teeny bit = un poquito. Or you can pump it up using a little -ísimo. I´m full = Estoy llena, I'm stuffed = Estoy llenísima.
Both of these endings were covered decently well in my Spanish classes; however, I feel that two of the best ¨manipulators¨ were given short shrift: -ote/a, -on/ona and -azo. Why make things small and cute when you can make them mega? For example (and please excuse my basically lousy translations. I´m inclined to just put "effing awesome" or "big-ass" in front of everything but that sounds retarded):

gol= goal, golazo = effing amazing goal
favor = favor, favorcito = a tiny favor, favorsote = a huge favor
negocio = deal, negociazo = a hell of a deal/business
panza = gut/belly, pancita = little belly, panzón = beer belly
guapo = cute/good-looking, guapito = pretty cute, guapetón = hot/studly
mujer = woman, mujerona = broad
pachanga = party, pachangota = rocking huge party

Is that not way more fun than shrinking things down? ¡Es divertidisísimooooooo!

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Say "Parangacutirimicuaro" 3 times fast!!!....and more tongue twister mania

Everybody loves a tongue twister, am I right? There are lots of place names that are ridiculously hard to pronounce here in Mexico.
As far as I can tell, the entire Nahuatl language (language of the Aztecs, still spoken by about 1.5 million people) is a tongue twister. Popocatépetl? Iztaccíhuatl? Atzcapotzalco? And everyone´s favorite: Parangacutirimicuaro, which is actually a Purépecha municipio in Michoacan apparently, so we won't blame the Aztec conquistadores for that one.
Here´s some more "trabalenguas," courtesy of my friend, Ana and http://www.uebersetzung.at/twister/es.htm:

Tres tristes tigres tragaban trigo en un trigal.

"R" con "R" cigarro
"R" con "R" barril
Rápido corren los carros que lleva el ferrocarril.
*No cheating! You have to roll the double "R"!

Otorrinolaringólogo trabaja en la otorrinolaringología.

La pícara pájara pica la típica jícara; a la típica jícara, pica la pícara pájara.

Los hombres con hambre hombre, abren sus hombros hombrunos sin dejar de ser hombres con hambre hombre hombruno. Si tú eres un hombre con hambre hombre hombruno, pues dí que eres un hombre com hambre y no cualquier hombre hombruno sino un hombre con hombros muy hombre, hombre.

Cuando cuentes cuentos, cuenta cuantos cuentos cuentas, cuando cuentes cuentos.

Hay chicas chachareras que chacotean con chicos chazos. Y un chico mete al chillón de la chepa un chichón por chirrichote, y el chiste, y lo chocante, es que la chepa se le ha chafado con la hinchazón del chirlo.

Now, just to be fair, I´m going to have to challenge my Mexican friends to bust out these classic English tongue twisters, not that I can even stutter them out myself:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.
A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
Where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?

How much wood could Chuck Woods' woodchuck chuck, if Chuck Woods' woodchuck could and would chuck wood? If Chuck Woods' woodchuck could and would chuck wood, how much wood could and would Chuck Woods' woodchuck chuck? Chuck Woods' woodchuck would chuck, he would, as much as he could, and chuck as much wood as any woodchuck would, if a woodchuck could and would chuck wood.

Betty bought some butter,but the butter Betty bought was bitter,so Betty bought some better butter,and the better butter Betty boughtwas better than the bitter butter Betty bought before!

True Confessions: I like the subjunctive

You´re learning Spanish. You make it through the present, past and future tenses; you can even say stuff like "I have walked" or "I am walking." You´ve overcome the natural Anglo inability to accept that nouns have a gender in Spanish, you may even understand the difference between the three "Excuse me"´s, "Con permiso," "Disculpa," and "Pérdoname."
Then one day you walk into class, feeling on top of the world, and your Spanish teacher with an evil gleam in the eye and a wigged-out smile says, "Okay class, today we´ll be learning about the subjunctive." To which everyone replies, "The what?" Which is understandable because: a) Teaching grammar was out of educational fashion when we went through school, b) In English, we practically never use the subjunctive and pretty much only unconsciously.
As my Spanish teacher explained it, "The subjunctive is a state of mind." You can put that in your pipe and smoke it, but the subjunctive is still going to kick your ass. I´m going to sum up about an entire painful month of classes on The Subjunctive as best I can.
The short story: We use the subjunctive in Spanish to talk about things that we aren´t entirely sure are going to happen or things that are contrary to fact. For instance, if I say: "I want you to clean the plates," I would say, "Quiero que laves los platos." Not lavas, but "laves" because, well, I want you to do it, but that doesn´t necessarily mean you will now does it?
Here's an example of where we use the subjunctive in English: "If I were you, I´d give that boy a beat-down." Did you notice how we don´t say, "If I was you, I´d give that boy a beat-down"? Well, actually a lot of people do, but it sounds kind of country-bumpkin. That´s the subjunctive my friend. Another example: "Were I to go to South Dakota, I would definitely go to Mount Rushmore." And that´s pretty much as far as we Angloparlantes go into the twisted reality of the subjunctive; However Hispanohablantes basically live there.
It´s a whole other reality, littered with uncertainty and hopes and dreams that may not come true.

"Espero que mi novio deje de ponerme las cuernas."
I hope my boyfriend stops cheating on me.
"Algún día, espero que mis hijos tengan una vida mejor que la mía."
I hope my children have a better life than I did.
"Quiero que mi abuela gane la lotería."
I want my grandma to win the lottery.
"Papá, quiero que me des un caballo."
Daddy, I want you to give me a pony.

Initially, I hated the subjunctive like any good American. It seemed so unnecessary. Why so much uncertainty? Why so many irregular verbs? Why does my Spanish teacher seem to be enjoying this so much?
We speak pretty forcefully in English. If you say, "If we win the game..." there´s probably a 50% chance someone´s going to say, "Ah, ah, ah - When we win the game... You´ve got to think positively." That´s all well and good, but life´s not necessarily going to go my way just because I´ve changed my diction.
After about a year living in Spanish, I´ve come to embrace the subjunctive state of being and the light uncertainty that crinkles the edges in a país tropical. It´s not a lack of volition - it´s acknowledging what´s out of my control. Maybe in his next reincarnation, the Dalai Lama will be a Spanish-speaker.

Tooth fairy? How about the Tooth Rat?


My nephew is 6 years old and as you might imagine, that means he usually has a tooth on the verge of falling out. In the traditional way, when one of his tiny teeth finally falls out, he puts it under his pillow and goes to bed just twitching with excitement. However, he´s not counting on a fairy to flit into the room and replace his tooth with 20 pesos, but the Mexican version of the tooth fairy - Ratoncito Perez, or simply "El Ratoncito." With a little in-depth research (wikipedia), I find that only us English-speakers are expecting the Tooth Fairy - in pretty much all the Spanish-speaking world and Italy and France, the little tooth thief is a rat. Initially, it kind of gave me the heeby jeebies to imagine a little rat skulking around in my nephew´s bed, but I guess it actually makes more sense than a fairy.
One question my nephew raised that I can´t answer however is: "What does el Ratoncito want all those teeth for?" I guess that´s why we don´t question tradition.