LIVING IN MEXICO: FROM ROMANTICISM TO ESSENCE
By Elena del Barrio

A romantic vision of Mexico has been installed in my mind ever since I listened to the fascinating stories my history teacher used to evoke about the Mexican Revolution. “It was the first revolution of this century even before the Russian Revolution,” he used to proudly claim. A sentimental image of those brave men dressed in white with their big moustaches and “charro” hats bearing grave looks upon their faces is part of a collective romantic memory which movies and visual evidence have projected. This romantic myth continues, one has only to recall the characters in films such as “ Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” “Thelma and Louise” and “True Romance.” I believe this fascination is shared by many who visit Mexico and is part of a childhood fantasy that evokes notions of liberty where everything is possible. The literature on the subject is endless and is part of a romantic heritage which Europeans projected mainly in the Orient and Africa as territories that were yet to be spiritually discovered. “Lawrence of Arabia” and “ Out of Africa” have come to mind as fine examples of this myth of freedom.

Some of us have taken the myth even further and actually come to live in Mexico. My brother like the “conquistadores” came in search of wealth “hacer las Américas” they used to call it in Spain. I joined him 12 years later for sentimental reasons (the motivation for most women). I distinctly recall packing my bags in Madrid to the light happy sound of James Taylor´s song, “Mexico, Mexico, it sounds so simple, I just wanna go.” The old complicated continent had exhausted my vitality and energy. It works the other way round for Mexicans. The land of opportunity for all those “camisas mojadas” (wet shirts) who cross the border is the States and their exotic dreamland is probably Europe, like for most Americans.

However, the dream of freedom becomes real when one is able to break ties with family, home, class and traditional beliefs. This process, which is painful, brings forth the reward of a spiritual comfort in the knowledge of the uniqueness of your own soul and temperament. It is really a miracle that procures self-knowledge and acceptance of life as it is and, with age, it becomes the wisdom of experience. This kind of awe before life is recorded in novels such as “Passage to India.” The contact of the main characters with this millenary culture changes their lives forever, but only an old lady is sensitive enough to perceive the shades and colors of India in all their magnificence. There is a passage at the beginning of the novel where this old lady instinctively takes her shoes off upon entering a mosque and this is noted by the Indian character Aziz as a sign of respect. It is through this small incident that their communication and friendship begins. Whereas Adela the young girl who desperately wanted to feel the real India never comes to terms with the dark side of India, her fear and mistrust of this foreign country hinder the possibility of spiritual fulfilment. Now, returning to Mexico, Carlos Fuentes novel “Gringo Viejo” narrates a similar experience. Harriet learns to accept the brutality of her Mexican lover as she cries witnessing his execution. She recognizes him as genuine and authentic when he accepts the punishment for his own contradictions.

But what happens in our fast moving post-modern world in this age of consumerism, technological revolution, divorces, body-building, cellular phones and the big word STRESS. Do we actually bridge the gap between dream and essence?. Well, since I’ve been living in Mexico I have come to believe in magic. Basically, as we run around like crazy mad dogs, we have no time for all the rest!! I could describe MAGIC as an instinctive sensitivity and awareness of the positive energies in life. I have indeed experienced several magical feelings, one of which I am about to narrate.

It was during my brief stopover in Mexico City on my way to Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco. I arrived late that night and found the hotel that was recommended to me. I didn’t like the place or my room. Now I think I was basically scared, everybody had warned me against the dangers of a city like Mexico but I speak the language so I had the basics to defend myself. However, when I woke up , I found the room quite pleasant and the staff at the desk were very friendly. I decided to use my time wisely and as I had already visited the Anthropological Museum on a previous trip with my mother (which had impressed us both), my next choice was either going to be the Castle of Chapultepec or the ruins of Teotihuacán.. I chose “essence,” so off I went to see the pyramids. It was a hot sunny day and at first I was feeling uncomfortable because I felt the driver was going to overcharge me (my God, all those tourist tips sometimes become a burden of worries for travellers !!), but as I started talking to the driver I began to feel at ease. It so happened that he was an anthropologist “but you can’t earn a decent living in Mexico – that’s why I rent this taxi,” he explained, and then described the wonders I was going to visit. As our conversation continued I began to feel anxious, I really wanted to see them now. I must say the first visual contact didn’t strike me. It was when I walked through this magical city and climbed to the top of the pyramid that I felt very calm. A soft breeze was blowing and I experienced a sweet playful freedom and, though there were other tourists with me, I could hear their voices hushing away in the distance as if I were really alone up there. It was magical, I wanted to be alone and so it happened. It was possible because I had unconsciously wished for it. I was experiencing something new and I loved the freshness and natural sense of happiness it inspired. This and other experiences have led me to have a growing interest in the indigenous parts of Mexico because, funnily enough up until that moment, I had only visited colonial Mexico. I really want to visit Oaxaca next time and my mother has been talking about visiting Egypt, too.

We have to really open our minds and leave our own conventions and prejudices at home in order to enjoy and understand the nature of another culture. However, this was not my state of mind when I saw the recently awarded Mexican film, AMORES PERROS. I was feeling depressed that day and was not really in the mood for a violent movie. I had seen a trailer of some dogs fighting and it didn´t feel like my cup of tea. But nevertheless I decided to watch it since my brother had rented the video. Contrary to all my expectations, I felt enthusiastic about it and, in fact, it has become the inspiration for this article. The structure of the plot, as a friend of mine remarked, is extremely clever. There are three different stories and the main characters miraculously collide in a car accident in the streets of Mexico. In our post-modern world where travelling and meeting people has become an everyday thing, the idea of chance has substituted the romantic idea of fate where people were destined for each other. Our exchanges are fast and sometimes we kind of feel nostalgic for things that work on us slowly, here comes our romantic heritage again. But we have to adapt and accept change as part of this modern world, and Mexicans do know how to enjoy the moment. It is part of their culture in the same way they accept death as part of life. This is why I find that Mexicans and Americans have the same dynamic beat of life, the rhythm of a “New World” and indeed seem to understand each other extremely well despite their cultural differences. In fact Mexico has become the favourite holiday resort for most Americans. I guess many find a natural spiritual affinity with Mexico. The pace of this film is particularly intense, there is a constant flow of action/reaction which is the true nature of a good script. Throughout this gripping film there is a particular claim in this respect, that life is spontaneous, natural and straightforward. Confusion, doubt or artificial ways lead to tragic results. This becomes particularly evident in the second story, where lack of action produces terrible results. Language is also a transmitter of the emotional result of the characters’ lack of communication. They start as lovers with artificial soppy love tones “si mi amor” and end up viciously screaming at each other. The woman ends up calling him, “maricón de mierda” (you fucking faggot). i.e. he is no longer a man to her. Which brings to my mind the distinct masculine and feminine codes that still prevail in Mexico and which we women have to deal with.

The protagonist of the third story is a university professor who left his family for the sake of the cause in the anti-government guerrilla movement. This is still a very hot issue in Mexico with the Chiapas situation, and though another character in the film calls him crazy “pinche loco” because he left his family, he turns out to be perhaps the wisest character in understanding the signs and essence of life. But he pays a high price for it. This is noticeable in the way he is compassionate when the moment requires him to be. He rescues the protagonist of the first story, Octavio, in the aforementioned accident but at the same time steals his wallet. Our professor is now a homeless streetwalker and needs money to survive. However, as he opens this wallet he finds the photos this young boy keeps in his wallet and smiles when he acknowledges the tenderness evoked by those faces. Emotions change in the space of the moment, and sometimes our idea of permanence and continuity blind our perception of the present.

This is not the case of the first story. All the main characters are completely in control of the situation, their natural instinctiveness makes them aware of who they are and what they want. This self-awareness makes them authentic and brings a prompt resolution of the conflict. Maybe we were not so foolish when we were young. The pace of this first story is particularly striking and corresponds to the spontaneity of youth. And the songs to some of the scenes are great. In fact, one of my favourite Spanish pop groups, Nacha Pop is the background to one of the most sexual and violent scenes in the film. This song forms part of my own Spanish culture, this is the music I used to listen to when I was in my twenties. My favourite verse reads: “ En este mundo descomunal siento tu fragilidad.” “In this crazy world I can feel your fragility.”

Through this inner journey from youth to old age, culture as knowledge and material prosperity are seen as dangerous fields of confusion if there is no awareness of the essence of life. Incidently, a cellular phone is thrown out of a car window when it hinders real communication, and the character laughs as he says to his worried companion, “well, you can buy another one, can´t you ?”. This is an example of the magical awareness of life that Mexicans have and they love to play with this idea of illusion and reality. They accept that life is a gamble, however, one also learns to be wise through experience. The game of life is mastered when we discover who we really are and what we have lost. As Octavio, waits at the bus station to elope with Susana, one can feel his anxiety and the sad look upon his face when he jumps on the bus alone. But Octavio is still young. For the rest of the characters in these stories, tragically awareness comes too late.

So music, movies, books and language produce emotional reactions. And perhaps this is our strongest universal bond to decipher the rituals, codes and enigmas of each culture and reach out for “essence.” But what about divine essence? The Mayans and Aztecs mistook the Spanish “conquistadores” for gods because they had never seen a man in armour riding a horse. Well tell me, aren’t these people just so magical.