An interesting thing happened during the time that I spent out there. First of all, we were there eight hours on both days. Being around all of the food smells and seeing the Mexican flags anywhere and everywhere almost gave me a transfusion of my Mexican culture. Though I go fairly often into Southwest Detroit, it’s not the same thing. I smelled the meat cooking for the tacos, which brought back memories from both sides of the border. I drank perhaps the biggest horchata (rice milk). Of course, I saw tons of images of Emiliano Zapata, Pancho Villa and even Che Guevara (ignoring the fact that he’s actually an Argentine figure and not Mexican). So, for all these sights and smells, we had our share and with some to spare! Everything, especially the food, was something warm and welcoming. The easiest way to explain my feelings is to say that they wrapped around me like a blanket. I felt like I was home.

The downside of the weekend is when I had to change hats. Let me tell you what I mean. Throughout the weekend, I really stretched my language skills. With one person, I might be speaking English and then turn around and speak to another in Spanish. Though my English is slightly better, I was able to effectively communicate in both. However, the flipping between languages tired me out!

Let me share with you a quote from the movie Selena. When Selena told her father, Abraham, how she wanted to go Mexico to get some press, he expressed his reluctance. He told her, We’ve gotta be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans-both at the same time. It’s exhausting!”

Do you ever feel exhausted at switching hats? I didn’t really realize this until I was driving home one of the days. The only way that I could describe it is that where I live seems like a whole world removed from the immersion that I experienced in Southwest Detroit. Even though Cinco de Mayo felt like home, I couldn’t help but wonder which is my real world.

I’d be interested to hear if you have ever had a similar experience. Have you ever felt that sometimes you have to wear your “Latino” hat and other times your “American” one?

Christina, 33, met her husband, Matt, while he was then working in Argentina.  They met at a pub that was frequented by Americans.  The initial introduction was made through one of her friends and so began the adventure.

“Our first date we went to Tucumán.  I took him by myself because I couldn’t speak any English and he couldn’t speak any Spanish.  I took him to a place to eat empanadas.  I was telling him, ‘These empanadas are great.  They’re the best in the world.’  The empanadas came but they weren’t cooked enough. I told him that they were the best, but the worst came,” Christina said with a chuckle.  “As we ate, we didn’t say nothing.  He’d had them before in Córdoba.  He probably thought that I was a liar!”

At that time, the difference in language presented significant obstacles.  However, both persisted in communicating with each other.  Through a combination of sign language,  basic vocabulary and sheer tenacity, both kept going.  Somehow, they made it work.

“He kept talking about [Mike] Tyson.  He ate someone’s [Evander Holyfield's] ear. He tried explaining it to me, but I didn’t understand nothing.  It was an interesting conversation.  I didn’t understand what he was talking about.  He was using a translating machine.  He was desperate to explain to me what he was talking about.  I didn’t understand anything.”

After the initial introduction, they kept seeing each other.  However, she was still keeping a secret: her age.  It took her about a month to finally reveal the truth, which provided her a tremendous sense of relief.

“After that, my friend asked, ‘How old are you?’ I said, ‘Tell him that I’m 23.’ It took about a month for me to tell him the truth.  The day that I told him the truth, he was probably wondering, ‘Are you married?’ It turned out that it was just about my age.  He was happy, when I told him, because he was probably wondering if I had a baby, was divorced or had a boyfriend,” she explained.

Things kept progressing between Christina and Matt.  A few months afterward, they traveled to Alabama, where her future brother-in-law was getting married.  This was big for two reasons.  First of all, it was her first trip to America.  Also, Christina would get to experience her first American wedding and see how different it was compared to Argentine ones.

“At a party before the wedding, we were all in a restaurant and then everybody stopped eating and went outside.  I asked Matt what was going on and he started laughing and said that everybody went outside to smoke.  That doesn’t happen in my country because we can smoke all over the place.  Nobody was inside but me and Matt.  Eventually, I told him, ‘I gotta go.’ I was outside smoking and tried to talk to somebody,” she said with a chuckle.

Following the wedding in Alabama, Christina and Matt were invited to Indianapolis to visit his mother and stepfather.  While his mother treated her well, the language barrier, as it was with Matt, continued to be a problem.  However, none of this stopped Christina from having her first experience with American-style pancakes.  They were definitely not what she expected.

“The wedding was like three or four days.  After that, his mom invited us.  The funny thing is when we went to eat breakfast.  It was the four of us: me, Matt, Matt’s mom and his step-dad.  They invited us for breakfast.  When I saw the menu, it was my first time eating pancakes.  When I saw pancakes, I thought that it was the type like we have in Argentina—almost like crêpes.  I was thinking pancakes with dulce de leche.  When they gave me the pancakes—the pile of pancakes—I gave them a look like, ‘What is this?’ I was expecting my pancakes,” she said with a laugh.  “Everybody was looking at me.  I started eating.  Put maple syrup on them.  I ate them like a piece of bread.”

From her colorful introduction to American culture to the present, Christina views marrying an American and moving to the United States as an adventure—not something to be feared, but looking forward to the next experience.

“It was different—very different.  I wasn’t nervous.  To me, it was more like an adventure,” she concluded.

Author: José A. Rodríguez