I had private lessons last week for lack of other students. Monday another beginner showed up, and he is in my class. He is a young man from Arizona or maybe New Jersey (he mutters vague, confusing things) who works or maybe worked at Big Bend, Texas. He has never studied Spanish formally, only in "Escuela de Vida" as he puts it. He was pretty lost at first and seemed like he resented being here, but that could just be his discomfort at the unfamiliar surroundings and the sudden immersion in Spanish. After a few days, he is better than I am. He likes to talk about getting robbed by Mexican police, shooting semi-automatic weapons in the US (guns are illegal here), getting arrested by border patrol, and getting high with people who rob him. He has driven all over northeastern Mexico, which is a pretty wild place. He appears to be actively looking for trouble, which he easily finds on a regular basis. This is the first time he has come to Central Mexico and he hates it because he doesn't like cities and the people here are so polite and formal.
Other more advanced students showed up this week from Norteamérica. There's a mother and daughter, a middle aged couple, and an elderly couple who have been coming to this school every Noviembre for 20 years.
On one of my walks around the city, I noticed a stand that sold "donas". On closer examination, I see they are donuts. Dona (pronounced dough nah) is what people here call me and it's even how I introduce myself sometimes because Spanish doesn't have a way to pronounce my name the Yankee way I was taught: daw naw. So people must think it strange that I am named for a greasy round pastry. Fortunately I am doing a lot of walking and I'm losing weight so I look less like a dona every day.
Wednesday night we finally made it to see the Disney movie Coco. After class, Ann and I took a colectivo, one of the many little vans that run regular routes around the city to the mall to be sure we were able to get tickets for that night's show. Ann heard that this movie has sold more tickets in Mexico than any other movie in Mexico's history. Once we had the tickets, we got some lunch at a surprisingly good Italian restaurant. We had gourmet pizza and salad, which ended up costing us about $16 each with tip. Very pricey for México.
Then we walked around the mall, which is three stories, about four times the size of Tucson Mall, and way more upscale. Unlike in Tucson, lots of people are walking around with shopping bags in the middle of the day. Whenever I'm at Tucson Mall, it's just to escape the heat, and it seems to be the same for most of the people there. The Sears (pronounced say-AHRS) at the Morelia mall looks like a fancy department store, with all the dazzling perfume, cosmetic, jewelry and women's accessory counters glowing at the entrance instead of the overstuffed racks of disorganized, cheap clothing we see in its counterpart at home. Ann attributes the brick and mortar shopping to the general lack of credit cards in México, which prevents online shopping from destroying stores. She says México is about 20 years behind the US, so they can probably plan on their malls becoming mausoleums like ours within a few decades.
Finally Ann's Mexican family arrived and we went to the theater, where we had plush, assigned seats and watched a gigante screen. The feature-length cartoon Coco is fantástico, increíble, cómica y hermosa. It's about Miguel, a Mexican chico from Michoacán, the very state where I am now, who is curious about his great-great-grandfather, who abandoned his wife and baby daughter to be a musician. The ancestor's head was ripped off of the family photo of him, the family won't discuss him, and they will not allow music to be played anywhere near them.
Noche de los Muertos (Night of the Dead) is a huge Mexican celebration, especially in Michoacán, where families decorate their ancestors' graves with flowers and candles on November 2 and stay in the cemetery all night eating and drinking with their ancestors, who come back to earth this one night every year. Miguel and a street dog named Dante cross the bridge of marigold petals between the living and the dead and he goes in search of his long lost ancestor. He becomes a great guitar player and has exciting adventures. It is so colorful with such stunning computer generated images. Disney Corp did wonderful research, and I was delighted to see that Miguel's town looks just like Pátzcuaro, a 400 year old village that Steve and I visited two years ago for Noche de los Muertos. Pátzcuaro was the model for Miguel's village. They just got everything right with no stereotypes and lots of respect and humor. It was in Spanish, which I mostly could not understand, but it's a cartoon, so it was easy to follow the story. It was fun to see it with some Mexicans, who are so proud of how their culture and particularly their state has been represented in this spectacular film. I look forward to seeing it in English next month.
One of our Spanish teachers said Disney Corp tried to copyright the words Day of the Dead. Can you believe it. Talk about cultural appropriation. They lost. But we have already started seeing the merchandising tie-in.
A hairless street dog named Dante leads Miguel to the Land of the Dead. Dante's breed is Xoloitzcuintle, and they have been in Mexico for around 3,000 years. The Spanish conquistadors almost wiped them out. According to ancient beliefs, this dog has the ability to guide souls in their journey to the underworld upon their death. The term Xoloitzcuintle comes from the Aztec language Nahuatl. 'Xólotl' means strange and itzcuintli signifies dog.
These dogs always blow away the competition at the World's Ugliest Dog contests, especially if they have a long tongue that hangs out of the side of their mouth as Dante does. They are also said to be very intelligent and fast. Obviously, with no fur, they are sensitive to the cold. I am concerned that this movie will result in too many parents in the US making an impulse decision to buy these dogs as Christmas gifts. After the release of 101 Dalmations, animal shelters were filled with Dalmations, which require a lot of attention and do not like children.
A hairless street dog named Dante leads Miguel to the Land of the Dead. Dante's breed is Xoloitzcuintle, and they have been in Mexico for around 3,000 years. The Spanish conquistadors almost wiped them out. According to ancient beliefs, this dog has the ability to guide souls in their journey to the underworld upon their death. The term Xoloitzcuintle comes from the Aztec language Nahuatl. 'Xólotl' means strange and itzcuintli signifies dog.
These dogs always blow away the competition at the World's Ugliest Dog contests, especially if they have a long tongue that hangs out of the side of their mouth as Dante does. They are also said to be very intelligent and fast. Obviously, with no fur, they are sensitive to the cold. I am concerned that this movie will result in too many parents in the US making an impulse decision to buy these dogs as Christmas gifts. After the release of 101 Dalmations, animal shelters were filled with Dalmations, which require a lot of attention and do not like children.
