¡Ask A Mexican!
By Gustavo Arellano
—El Pocho Loco Del Burbank
Dear Pocho: First, the “P.S.” you added at the end of your letter: “I love it when people talk smack about her and she turns around and tells them, ‘Entiendo todo lo que dicen, babosas,’ It really freaks people out.” HA! I’m glad she understands everything that the babosas say about her, too. And I’m glad that your chinita’s parents accept you. Back when I was dating a chinita (a Vietnamese girl, but who’s keeping score?), her parents thought I was little better than a cholo-gardener-illegal-bandito even though I dressed like a Chicano nerd (guayaberas, Chucks, slacks) and was a graduate student (the cholo-gardener-bandito bit was only on weekends). My parents, on the other hand, welcomed the chinita into our household. Then again, I’ve heard of situations like that flipped, so I wouldn’t attribute Know Nothing relationship attitudes to any particular raza. Stats on intermarriage rates between chinitos and wabs are hard to come by, which I guess proves your point—even demographers don’t believe in the possibility of chinito-Mexi love—but I do know that Latinos and Asians are the two ethnic groups with the highest rates of marrying outside their group, so your beautiful relationship is the shape of cosas to come, not some crime against nature à la a Mexican Republican. Mexican women don’t like your chinita? They’re just upset no man is giving them the chile, period.
Why do some Chicano activists hate Columbus, but get mad because this Mexican (me) is not fluent in Spanish? Isn’t Spanish a European language that half our ancestors forced on the other half of our ancestors?
—Apparently Slightly Pocho in San Anto
Dear Pocho: Shh! Don’t introduce logic to a yaktivist! They might soil their maxtlatl!
Why do Mexicans here in Chiapas think that, because I’m a gringo, I will or am able to pay more for stuff? Nothing works including, “No soy turista” or ¿Cuanto cuesta por los Mexicanos? Now my pocho friend has to tell me to hide my skinny white ass around the corner while he negotiates the price for everything. ¿Qué paso? Do I have “tonto” stamped on my forehead or what? Soy pobre maestro de inglés. No gano mucho.
Dear Gabacho: You think that slumming it in southernmost Mexico teaching English to chiapanecos entitles you to everything Mexican, including easier haggling at the tianguis? Cry me a pinche river, Great White Padre. An American haggling Mexican vendors in Mexico is like a city bureaucrat demanding taxes from a kid’s lemonade stand.