Why I Love Mexico

Two days ago I wrote a short piece sharing my opinion of people who tell you you should've used birth control when they find out you have four children. (In case you didn't read it, and you couldn't guess, it's not a good opinion.)

What I wrote two days ago didn't just pop into my head out of nowhere, and it didn't just turn up out of an entire year of "mixed" reactions to my babies.

A week and a half ago, I arrived in Mexico again with my family, this time on a work trip. (My last one, since I am less than a week away from finishing this job.  The last 2 weeks will be a vacation.)

An Unpleasant Welcome

Upon our arrival to Playa del Carmen, we were greeted with the usual visuals of Mexico; dirt and garbage in the streets, mangy street dogs, half-built homes, graffiti-covered walls, children playing with trash in filthy parks ...

The list could go on.  Home, sweet, home?  Well, not quite.

Den of Sinners

Then comes the visible immorality of Mexican culture. 

Like everywhere, marital infidelity abounds; and here, intentions along these lines are made all to visibly obvious, as are the relationships themselves.  A married taxi driver has his "companion" joining him in the passenger's seat, who is almost certainly not his wife, men cheating on their wives is chronic. (First hand stories.)

Dishonesty is endemic.  Just today, my commadre's daughter told me how a store worker stole her cellphone from a fitting room, and then called her a "bitch" when she tried (successfully) to reclaim it. (Commadre = godmother of my son.)  People here "find" other people's things and assume that this sequence of fortunes means that people have lost all rights to their belongings, even if they "find" those things in someone else's front patio.

Just two examples of so many.

At this point, I would like to talk about how I actually like the fact that in Mexico sin, immorality, dishonesty, etc. all look like exactly what they are - but that belongs to a different post.

Loving People

So far, I'm guessing I haven't inspired many would-be expats to make the leap, abandon their home and move to Mexico.

But in spite of all its problems and unpleasant sights (which I would argue are not actually bigger, but simply more visible) there's something about Mexico - even the dirtiest most unsightly places - that captures my heart:

Mexicans have a deep love for being with other people.  The don't need to share common interests, understand each other, have something to do together or have anything else that we would consider fundamental to a "healthy relationship;" the love of another person and the joy felt in seeing another person is enough.

Seeing and feeling a joy for human life is something that surpasses many other comforts and conveniences in life.

To love another ....

 Having lived in a few (Western) nations, I will be so bold as to claim that I have identified two things that are universal (among many others I'm sure.) One is the love of human life. Unfortunately, alongside of that love is the hatred of human life.

When you tell people that you have four children and their first response is "you should've used a condom" or (in the case of the mother) "So, you've had your tubes tied now, haven't you?" they're basically telling you that the world, or at least your family, would be better off without your most recent children.

In the past 2 weeks, these exact ideas have been told to me and my wife more often than I would like to say.

That is hatred of human life.

While there are far too many of such hateful people, fortunately there are still many more who love human beings.  They see baby twins and play with them; they bubble over in joy about how cute they are.

Or, on the other hand, they might talk about which one might be a better boss, and which one might be a better boss and which one might be a better salesman.  Others may notice which one likes to get dirty and which one likes to stay clean. Some may kiss them, others may give them a blessing.

Not once does it occur to these people how the existence of these beautiful twins could've been prevented. Why? Because they love people, and human life gives them joy.

In the same past few weeks - especially in the past two days - these and many other such wonderful things have happened when people see our twins, thankfully far more than the kind of comment mentioned above.


The joy of seeing an infant is the joy of seeing new life brought into this world and at its very root the deepest love for humans.

The next time you see a baby, let it bring joy to your heart, and not a Godless, inhuman wish that the baby's life would've been prevented.

What Are Your Favourite Places in the World? One of Mine is in Valladolid …

One my favourite places that I've been too is probably fairly unremarkable.  There are no stores, cafes, art, music or anything else.  What makes it appealing to me is the fact that it's a quiet plaza in a colonial residential neighbourhood in an unknown town.  There is a view of an old monastery.

Recently a co-worker who visited there recently sent me some pictures of this very place:

 I remember sitting on the benches there, eating lunch with my oldest son when we visited for New Years 2012, and relaxing in the shade another time before than.  I always forget to bring my camera. Good thing other people don't!

This is the view of the monastery:

I believe it still functions as a monastery.  They have daily Mass in the chapel at least.  When the bells ring out breaking the quiet which generally permeates the calm community, it is simply beautiful.

The place is beautiful; the pleasure is so simple.

For more pictures and of my last visit to Valladolid, see Valladolid, A Mayan Colonial Town.  For a great description of a very different side of Valladolid, see A Visit to Valladolid, Colonial Yucatán: Parte Uno. (Besides this quiet corner of beauty, the writer captures the essence of what I like about Valladolid.)

The Joy of Living and Walter Ostanek

Back in October, someone made a comment about polka, and brought back memories of seeing Walter Ostanek on T.V. back in the 80s.  Something always struck me about Mr. Ostanek; I don't think it was his music per se, but more the fact that he always looked incredibly happy.  Take a look:

How many pop/rock/other famous musicians do you see with a smile like that on their faces these days?  Either they look depressed or angry, or they take themselves far too seriously to smile.
In any case, there seems to be some joy in the polka party.

This kind of joy in the simple things in life is something I saw and experienced much more in Mexico than here.  In Mexico, there is a greater tendency to find joy in whatever you have in life, even if it's little, and whatever situation you're in.  Could it be that more limited economic opportunities and a lesser degree of stability have made everything seem a more fleeting, thus making everyone happier for what they have?  Or is it that their mentality on life has been shaped by a different set of values, different religious background, etc.?

In any case, although Walter Ostanek is still alive and well (and living in St. Catherine's) the days of the polka fest seem to be past their prime.  In the past, the unfinished sanctuary of the church I currently attend was used as a community dance hall for about 3 decades (until they had the money to finish it and use it as a sanctuary.)  There are no community dances any more.  I think there's only one at New Years, and it's only for those of age; this strips the sense of community out of such events.  The interest-focused "communities" we like to talk about are really not communities at all.  A true community includes people of all ages and tastes.  A true community, like a family, simply finds joy in being with each other.

Perhaps Canada's past was a little more festive and joyous as well?  Who knows.  In Canada, there is a lot of focus on pleasure, but little joy.  It most certainly exists (see A Mexican Chistmas Celebration (Posada) in Ontario's Countryside) but it seems the exception rather than the rule.