Coke, The Well of Loneliness and Anarcho-Syndicalism (my new apartment)

Interior departmentos (the courtyard is narrow and two stories high) don’t get much direct sunlight and 4m high ceilings in a 3m² living room painted dried-blood red gave the place a name it deserved – “The Well of Loneliness” (see, every once in a while, a Masters’ in English comes in handy). Repainting the place tweety-bird yellow was an absolute necessity. At least I don’t have to refer to my home by the title of a dark, depressing and tasteless 1920s novel about British lesbians.

The bedroom – 4 x 3 (HUGE, by Mexico City standards) – still looks like I have Count Dracula for a roommate, but I’ve spent too much this month already. Besides, I want to consider my options: I’m strongly leaning towards “Mexico City VW taxicab green”, though violet or cyan are possibilities. Hey, it’s Mexico… life ain’t dull, so why live in dull rooms?

Since I moved here at least partially to escape a consumerist life, I’m sorry to report I just bought my first ever new refrigerator – and, shameful to report, I bought it at WalMart. Well, at least it’s a small refrigerator (being less than a meter high it’s technically a frigobar – and not a refri – as the saleslady was at pains to make clear to me), a Mexican brand, and the WalMart store is unionized.Speaking of consumerismo, I have a student whose father came from Catalonia as an anarchist refugee from Franco (his mother’s family was running from Hitler).

He’s the only Mexican I’ve ever met who doesn’t drink Coca-Cola. Even los Mormones drink the stuff by the gallon (but then, Mexican Mormons were big supporters of the former Coca-Cola chairman who is now el Presidente), but apparently not Jewish-Catalan-Mexican Anarchists. Coke, according to dear old dad is ¡las aguas negras de las imperialistas gringas! My student already knows Spanish, Catalan, German, Hebrew, and English, so a standard English class is out of the question. I’ve put him to reading Henry David Thoreau. Somehow I can’t imagine Henry hiking in from Walden Pond to the Concord WalMart to stock up on the Real Thing — or even the Sam’s Club version. I’m not even sure Henry would have bought BIG Cola (which is only sold in 3 liter bottles) — supposedly made from real Kola nuts and, being a Peruvian product, real Coca – which has some appeal here for being a Latin American agua negra.

Anarchism (and Anarcho-Syndicalism) is still alive and well in Mexico. As are Socialism and Indigenism and Syarchism and Communism … and even Capitalism. It makes life more interesting, anyway. I tend to favor the Anarcho-Syndicalists myself: giving power to the people doing the work doesn’t sound undemocratic or particularly radical to me.Try ‘splaining the difference between the “Ds” (financed by Wall Street Capitalists) and the “Rs” (financed by ?) to folks here. They don’t see much difference between Bush and Kerry… they’re both candidates for parties supporting an aggressive foreign policy (and military threats) to further corporate capitalist interests and assure access to other country’s natural resources: what’s known here as fascism. And both guys are just super-rich Yalies (and members of the York Rite Masonic “Skull and Bones” Society – the Mexican Yorkistas were founded Joel Poinsett, our first Ambassador and our first foreign intelligence officer, as a way to control the Mexican elite, and incidentally acquire Texas. Masonic plots (and, better yet, gringo Masonic plots, and… best of all, York Rite Gringo Masonic plots… have ever since been a perennial favorite with Mexicans.

By the way, there’s a popular tale going around that Pancho Villa’s skull is THE skull used by the S&Bs… Pancho’s head was stolen at the same time a bunch of Yalies were wandering around Chihuahua on an undefined research project and about a month before Prescott Bush – the Nazi money-launderer and George I’s daddy – was inducted into S&B). Oh well, at least Kerry has held a real job at some point in his life… not that I registered to vote (I don’t have an address in the United States).

Nice to be in a country where it’s hard to steal elections (having had so much practice at doing just that, the Mexican politicians all figured out ways to keep the other guys from stealing votes – everything from tamper-proof ID cards to security paper ballots. Oh, and public financing and strict campaign spending and time limits). And there seems to be some real differences between the political parties — the only “issues” in the U.S. elections anyone talks about is how much money each side is spending.

Gee, for some reason I don’t get many invitations to Embassy functions. I’m not hanging out with a lot of ‘Mericans right now for that matter. The gringos I know are either much younger (I got along fine with my former roomies, but it was just hard to relate to 20-somethings), Mormon missionaries (also very young – and also Mormons… and missionaries – which creates some lifestyle differences. I still drink too much coffee for starters), scary types on the run (sometimes from the Mafia, but more often from whatever predilections got them in trouble back in the U.S.A. I’ve heard seemingly benign retirees defend child prostitution as a form of social work – on the interesting theory that it’s not as the United Nations says, a form of slavery, but rather a way of helping the local economy and providing educational opportunities to disadvantaged youths — enough times to start double checking teacher applicant who wants to work with adolescents), or the “grumpy gringos”.

I used to hang out at one café with a couple other gringos more or less my age until it dawned on me that these guys were talking about exactly the same thing, with the same wording, that they’ve been talking about for the last two years: each other. I have the feeling that what Bob said to Bill about Fred over breakfast at Sandborn’s on calle Londres is exactly the same thing Joe said to Jack about Jim over breakfast at Sandborn’s in … Oaxaca, Puerto Vallerta or San Miguel de Allende (about 4 hours from Mexico City by bus, Steve). Pretty much the same interchangeable crew is scattered throughout gringo ghettos throughout the Republic… and probably around the world. B-O-R-I-N-G !But there are plenty of other English-speakers around. There’s a lot of Kenyans, Nigerians, Sierra Leonese, Togolese (and even a smattering of Ethopians, who seem to find English easier than Spanish) in my new neighborhood. I mostly work with either Mexicans or English-speakers from other countries (mi jefe is one of the 35 New Zealanders residing in Mexico). I’m still recruiting recent college graduates from el otro lado who want to work here as teachers however. The latest one is a challenge. Her degree (art history and religious studies) and background (6 weeks teaching confirmation classes at her church) just aren’t as marketable as the last prospect (a Masters in Education and experience teaching English as a Second Language). With this one I’ve put out a 500 peso bounty to anyone who can find me a school that’ll take her on.

She expects me to call her. I’ve ordered phone service, but Taco Bell (aka TelMex) probably won’t show up for at least another week or two – I’m having to go across town to my office – which I normally have no reason to visit. Normally, I make about a half-month’s salary placing a student (I’m paid in dollars though paypal). After paying out fees, and the phone bills, I may have enough left over to… oh … buy a Coke?