#unfortunately for the parental units they are three for three in raising little weirdos

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

Me, talking about my research: necrogeography, etc etc, funerary art, mortuary ritual, etc etc

My dad’s wife, grimacing: that’s great sweetie, I’m glad you’re having fun

[homeiscalifornia]

I am a nationalist jerk and need to do better but I just love Mexico too much my heart might explode

Buenos días

When I woke up yesterday morning, my tía Martha was already making me breakfast and I was like “Aww no one has made me breakfast in years!” She’s very sweet.

After eating, my aunt walked me to the front gates of her house where I met Oscar, my chauffeur for the day. Right away, Oscar started talking to me about his adventures in the US and about the time he lived in Canada. As he drove, we talked about Trump, racism, Obama, Peña Nieto, drug trafficking, how expensive gas is in Mexico, and Mexican Jews. I really liked him, he was chill and respectful and I enjoyed hearing a Mexican not being antisemitic. When I asked him what he thought about the Mexican Jewish community, he told me that he doesn’t know any Jews personally but that he’s always admired Mexican Jews because they are such a hardworking and generous group of people who are constantly trying to improve their lives and the lives of the people around them. I had tears in my eyes. Someone, please give this man a cookie.

Thesis Research + meeting a Mexican Jew (!!!)

Once we got to the Centro de Documentación e Investigación Judío de México (Center of Jewish Documentation and Investigation of Mexico) in Tecamachalco, Oscar told me he would be waiting for me outside until I was finished with my research (how nice, how kind, que divino!). When I walked into the Center’s (temporary) headquarters (cause their original headquarters was destroyed by the September earthquake), I was greeted by David Palencia- the dude I had been emailing for about two months trying to plan this whole trip. Immediately, he introduced me to their secretary, three of their archive managers, their web designer, and director- don’t ask me for names because I forgot them as soon as I heard them.

After that whole show, I asked them if they were all Jewish and they were like “Oh no, Enrique, our director, is the only Jew here. The rest of us are just weirdos who got interested in Jewish stuff” and I was like “OMG I’M ALSO A WEIRDO.” I think I found my squad.

After bombarding them with questions about Jewish life in Mexico, they decided it would be best if I just talked to Enrique so Enrique led me to his office and gave me a short summary about Jews in Mexico:

During colonialism, Jews were not supposed to immigrate to the New World because King Ferdinand and Queen Isabela didn’t want Jews to contaminate their colonies. Nonetheless, some Jews and converted Jews managed to immigrate to the Spanish colonies and upon hearing about this, the Spanish Crown decided to send the Inquisition over to Spanish- America to prosecute crypto-Jews. The Inquisition, powered by stupidity, started executing people for “juadizing.” The first case involves a dude named Hernando Alonso who was living in New Spain (present-day Mexico) who was burned at the stake for rebaptizing his child in wine and for telling his wife to stay away from Church while menstruating. THESE ARE CLEARLY NOT JEWISH PRACTICES but anyway, others, unfortunately, suffered the same fate as our homie Hernando.

In the late 19th century and early 20th century, there was a large Ashkenazi Jewish immigration wave during the Profiriato (what we call Porfirio Diaz’s dictatorship) in Mexico. Back in the day, Latin American elites believed that whiteness= modernization and progress and since all these Jews were coming from Europe, Porfirio welcomed them to Mexico because he believed they would be a “civilizing” influence on the country. Then there comes the Mexican Revolution (whoooo!) and Jose Vasconcelos (booooo!) and they argue against all these social Darwinist theories and begin to extoll the mestizo (mixed race person) as the quintessential Mexican.

What’s the problem with this? Jews in Mexico usually don’t mix with other races as they prefer to marry other Jews. Plus, they have their own holidays and traditions, which are different from Mexico’s Catholic festivities.

Enter Hitler and WWII. Mexico decided to close its doors to Jewish immigration because they were (and still are) considered impossible to assimilate. Here, Enrique told me, “You see, Mexico pretends to be a very open country but it’s actually really closed and nationalist. People here treat me and other Jews like passing foreigners. They don’t consider us real Mexicans because we are Jews. With that, I don’t want you to think that Jews have it bad here. The Jewish community in Mexico is one of the most united, wealthy, and organized in the world and compared to countries like France, Mexico does not have a lot of antisemitism. It’s just closed off, and not only to Jews but also to Mexican Arabs, Mexicans of Asian descent, and indigenous peoples. There are bigger problems than antisemitism here, like machismo but yeah, other Mexicans look at us Jews like we’re tourists when really for Mexican Jews, Mexico is our only home.”

He then added, “A lot of non- Jewish Mexicans ask me if I consider myself Jewish first or Mexican first and it bothers me. I am both a son to my parents and a father to my daughters but no one asks me if I am more of a son or more of a father. It’s a pointless question. My parents raised me to be a Mexican Jew. I consider myself equally Mexican and Jewish and I don’t see why one has to be more important than the other. Identities are complex.”  

Wow, Enrique, wow. He really left me speechless and everything he said supports my thesis plus that last thing he said about identities really resonated with me because people often ask me if I consider myself more Mexican or more American.

After this very intriguing conversation with Kike (nickname for Enrique), I headed over to my desk where the archive peeps already had a bunch of material for me to look over. I was given some oral testimonies of Mexican Jews talking about the Camisas Doradas (a Mexican fascist and antisemitic group) and about their relationships with Catholic Mexicans. I was also given newspaper articles talking about the “Jewish threat” and calling for a “Mexico for Mexicans.” I spent like four hours in there and I left a happy girl with eight oral testimonies, two books, and a couple of poster scans.

Mexican Pueblito (my heart, my soul)

Wow. Mexico. Wow. To quote Maribel Verdú in the movie Y tu mama tambien (one of my favorite movies) “Mexico breathes life.” But especially in little pueblitos. Earlier, I had told my tía Martha that I really wanted some Mexican caballitos (shot glasses) so I can drink my tequila. She got hella excited out of nowhere and asked me if I wanted to go to some pueblito where they sell Mexican arts and crafts and I was like “Hell to the sí!” So off we go to my tía Bertha’s house (she lives like next door) to ask if she wants to come and says yes.

Once we got to this little pueblito (idk the name, sorry) my eyes wanted to jump out of my eye sockets, and I was like “SANTA MARIA MADRE DE DIOS.” I died. Everywhere I looked, there were Mexican mugs, little cajeta (kinda like dulce de leche but better) shops, ice cream shops, bakeries, arts and crafts stores – everything my little Mexican heart was craving. As we were walking down the narrow streets, I kept turning my head left and right like a squirrel having a seizure saying, “Ay que lindo! Look at the _____!” My aunts just laughed and asked me if I wanted to go inside each store I drooled over and of course, I said yes. I wanted to see everything.

At some point, we entered a store called “La Catrina” where they sell a bunch of handcrafted catrinas and I swear to you, my heart stopped. Guys, I love this store more than I love that dumb Colombian (who doesn’t deserve me). I ended up buying a $110 Frida Kahlo- inspired catrina and I have no regrets. I will provide pictures later when I unpack it in Washington. After visiting this store, I bought two jars of cajeta (cause why not), 16 caballitos (you can never have enough), and a little thingy (not sure what it is but it’s cute) for one of my professors.

When we started to head back, I felt all warm and fuzzy as I watched little churches and chucheria shops. I saw a mother walking her kids to an ice cream shop while the kids skipped off in front of her like excited little ponies, some dudes drinking beer outside of a taqueria, and a colorful little cemetery decorated with enormous crosses and flowers.

I love Mexico.