Fulbright scholar looking to Housesit San Miguel de Allende Mexico Announcements & News
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| Mexican Coke: The 'Real Thing?'
By TOM RAGAN Sentinel staff writer WATSONVILLE It's popping up just about everywhere in Latino communities across the United States: Mexican-made Coca-Cola in those old glass bottles, somewhat of an anomaly in the age of the plastic liter and twist-off cap. Slightly worn and a bit gritty from all the coming and going, the 12-ounce bottles, which sell for roughly $1.25 a pop, are being bought up and sucked dry at record clips in cities across the country with large Latino populations. And Mexicans and Mexican-Americans aren't the only ones swigging down the soda bottled south of the border, claiming it tastes different from its American-made counterpart, that its fizz seems to last longer because it's in a glass bottle. If running diaries on the Web in the form of blogs are any indication, just about everybody who likes the heft of a good old-fashioned soda bottle is looking for the Mexican-made pop in the thousands of ma and pa convenience stores that cater to Latinos. "Mexican Coke is selling like crazy bro, and I can't keep up," says Rudy Mendoza of El Gordo Taqueria on Main Street. Last week the 20-something Mendoza, Salinas born and bred, was cursing the underground distributor under his breath as the slightly green tinted bottles, with the words "Hecho en Mexico," started to disappear from his refrigerator. In somewhat of a conundrum, the Atlanta-based Coca-Cola Co. has condemned the recent imports across the country as a form of "bootlegging." But at the same time the company has recognized that it would be remiss if it overlooked the Mexican pop craze, which is why it is now buying Coca-Cola in bottles from Mexico and importing them to Texas and Southern California, two of the largest Mexican markets in the country, according to Mart Martin, a spokesman for Coca-Cola's North American division in Atlanta. "We believe that the appeal of Mexican Coke is as much about nostalgia as it is about anything," says Martin. "It's like getting a piece of home in a bottle. You can't deny the fact that it's in a tall glass bottle, something you just can't find in most parts of the United States." But it's the "same exact product," and Mexican bottlers are buying the ingredients straight from the company, says Martin. "It's not like they're stirring it up in some backyard," he adds. "Coke is Coke is Coke." The company, however, rarely elaborates on Coke's ingredients, and the secret formula is actually in a vault in a bank in Atlanta. Instead, the company line all along has been that there is "no perceptible taste difference" between Mexican Coke and the American-made Classic Coke. As Martin says, "You have to consider the circumstances: the packaging, whether there's ice over it, the temperature, or whether it's in a can or a bottle. But what often happens is people think it tastes different because it comes in a bottle, and that's what we're trying to get our arms around. The 'why?' It could just be psychological." Yet there is one kicker, and it's a fairly large one: Mexican Coke may contain the same secret syrup, but its sweetener is entirely different. It's made from sugar cane, not corn syrup. 'The Real Thing' Latinos are the fastest-growing population segment in the United States, and Mexico accounts for well over half of the roughly 33 million Latinos who live in the country, according to the 2000 census. Certainly, this is not the first time the Mexican market has flexed its muscle, with an occasional borrowing from U.S. popular culture. Look closely at the Mexican man wearing that Texas Longhorns cap or the World Series-winning Chicago White Sox hat. There's a chance it came from a market just off the plaza in Any Town, Mexico. But then there's the real Mexican deal, like tequila, which has anchored many a margarita happy hour; or tacos, as popular as hamburgers, without which there'd be no Taco Bell. Mexico's a country that's put the popularity of chips and salsa right up there with ketchup and french fries. And in yet another nod to the lucrative Latino market, Frito-Lay just came out with a "fiery habañero" flavor of Doritos that all but requires a bottle of water during consumption. It's no secret that the meteoric rise in the Mexican population in the past few decades in the United States has given rise to all products Mexican, which has made its way into the mainstream of the American psyche — from canned jalapeños to cheaper laundry soaps to the corn tortilla. But taking a brand name like Coca-Cola and undercutting the American-made Coca-Cola distributors on their own turf hasn't gone over well with the largest soft drink supplier in the world, according to Martin. Although the bottlers in Mexico are authorized and are making the cola above board, it's the non-Coca-Cola distributors — the guys who are wheeling and dealing it in an underground market — that are causing all the problems. Lawsuits have been filed, but no dispositions as of yet. "They're trespassing on the territory rights of many U.S. bottlers," said Coke spokesman Martin. "Bringing it into the country is not illegal. But what it does do from the Coca-Cola standpoint is it violates contractual rights that we have with our bottlers. And it has potential trademark right infringements as well." The controversy has even bubbled to the surface in several blogs. Ordinary Joes are mixing their thoughts and opinions with the best of the high-browed corporate types who've made careers out of analyzing products that sell and those that don't. Grant McCracken, a noted anthropologist with a doctorate from the University of Chicago, wrote: "Some consumers now insist that Mexican Coke is a more robust brand than American Coke, not least because it is charged with meanings that American Coke never had, or long ago gave up. In particular, Mexican Coke is charged with a powerful nostalgia, a remembrance of childhood south of the border." Karina Alejandre, 22, a recently arrived immigrant from Mexico who now cooks at El Gordo Taqueria in Watsonville, remembers her first sip of Coca-Cola. And guess what? It didn't even come from a bottle. "We'd drink from plastic sandwich bags with straws inside," she said in Spanish, an imaginary straw in her hand. "We couldn't leave the store with the bottles." Since Coca-Cola was founded in the late 1880s as a syrup mixed with carbonated water, it's gone from the soda fountain to the bottle to the aluminum can to the plastic liter. And now it's back to the bottle, courtesy of Mexico, a country that's usually a few years behind the times, often fashionably retro because of it. And in the backrooms of some Mexican tiendas in Watsonville, from El Gordo to D'La Colmena, cases upon cases of the Mexican Coke bottles sit, proof that there's a demand, which is causing a stir but saturating a Latino and non-Latino thirst across the country. As McCracken notes, "The bigger challenge of the Coca-Cola Co. is to admit that even the magnificent corporation that has created and preserved the 'real thing' authenticity must now admit to the possibility that there are many authenticities. This is the lesson of plenitude. This is the lesson of the long tail." Miguel Perez and Leticia Martinez, Watsonville residents, don't know anything about corporate lessons learned. They just know what they like. "When we run out," says Martinez, "I buy the smaller American-made bottles. They cost more, but they're worth it. I love drinking Coke from the bottle." from www.santacruzsentinel.com |
I’ve written quite a bit about The Ugly American Syndrome. In my columns, print and online magazines, and in every book I’ve written, I’ve mentioned this topic. I get a lot of mail from readers, either praising and agreeing with me or chiding and condemning me. As of today, I think I will begin cutting Americans some slack, especially American expats in Mexico, regarding The Ugly American Syndrome. My visit to the bank today convinced me that maybe I’ve been too harsh and need to lighten up a bit. I think my readers (the chiders and condemners) in San Miguel de Allende might breathe a collective sigh of relief over this announcement. What happened is something that should not have surprised or shocked me. I guess I simply have reached the end of my expat rope—at least today. When I get my quarterly royalty checks from my book publishers, I take them to my Mexican bank and deposit them. Because they are drawn on a foreign account in the States, there is understandably a hold on these checks. I get that and it doesn’t bother me one bit. But here is what I’ve been told ever since I began depositing royalty checks into this account: “There will be a two-week hold on this check.” At the end of two weeks, the wife and I go off to the ATM to check the balance and the funds are not there. We go back to the bank. The bank officer tells us: “Oh, there is always a three-week hold on foreign checks.” We wait another week, go to the ATM, and the funds aren’t there. So, we go again to the bank. “Oh, there is a 22-day hold on all foreign checks.” The next day, we go to the ATM and the funds are not there. We go into the bank: “There must be some mistake. There is always a 25-day hold on all foreign checks.” We wait three more days and go to the ATM to check things out. There are no funds. We drag ourselves into the bank with the wife trying to talk me out of murdering someone. “Oh my, my! There is always a 30-day hold on all foreign checks.” In Mexico, as I have written before, nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is as it seems. Nothing will work with any degree of logic or reason known to the rest of the world. Here two weeks can mean pretty much any amount of time. In Guanajuato, Mexico, two weeks means many things. It can mean three weeks, twenty-two days, twenty-five days, or thirty days. And let me tell you, each bank employee will tell you something different each time you make a deposit. They will look you straight in the eye and tell you whatever comes to their minds, whether it is the truth or not. What I do not get is just why no bank employee knows how anything works! This brings me to a conversation with an American expat who has lived in Mexico much longer than I have. She said once that what Mexico needs is a Business Manager. These people need a Business Manager in everything that has to do with anything to show them how things work. This is because in all aspects of life, at least in Guanajuato, no one who does anything that has to do with something knows just how it is suppose to work. Trying to do banking in Guanajuato is not the only thing that doesn’t work. I would love to tell you that this is so but I would be lying. Once we tried going to the movies. The theater manager was at a party and was having too good of a time to show up with the keys to the box office to sell tickets. She sent word that someone was welcome to come and get the keys and sell tickets, otherwise we would all have to wait. Can you begin to imagine what would have happened in America when this movie theater manager finally showed up? She or he would have been lynched by the crowd. Here is the really bad thing. This sort of “Qué Será, Será, whatever will be, will be…” service is vastly tolerated all over this country. The Mexican nationals, at least from my observation, seem to tolerate a level of service from providers that Americans and Europeans would not tolerate for a second! Only those who have spent time internationally seem to be perturbed by those of their fellow countrymen who settle for or offer this, “The future’s not ours to see, Qué Será, Será…” service. Well, the next time I see some American tourist or expat acting out The Ugly American Syndrome, I am going to march up to them, pat them on the back, and tell them, “I feel your pain, Bubba!” by Douglas Bower Article Source: EzineArticles.com |
| Another interesting perspective from Mexonline
Located 60 kilometers north of Queretaro, the colonial gem of San Miguel de Allende, population 80,000, is situated on a hillside facing the Laja River and the distant Guanajuato Mountains. Declared a national monument in 1926, San Miguel is a picturesque city of arched colonial mansions, flower-filled patios, and winding, terraced cobblestone streets. It is particularly beautiful in March, when flowering jacaranda trees are in bloom. Roof top views and gardens of this colonial city It is Mexico's most celebrated artists' community, and has been luring artistically-inclined Mexicans and foreigners (about 3,500 Americans and Canadians) for decades. Instituto Allende, founded in 1951, is an intellectual center and arts academy of renown. There are also many other institutes focusing on arts, literature, and language. Despite this Anglo invasion, San Miguel is very Mexican village. The city boasts a thriving cultural and entertainment scene. Many events (plays, lectures, art classes) are in English. The renowned San Miguel Music Festival (featuring Mexican and international artists) happens each December. A city with six patron saints and dozens of churches, San Miguel hosts a full calendar of religious festivals throughout the year. The town's biggest bash is San Miguel Arcángel, a celebration honoring the town's chief patron saint. The event includes a running of bulls through city streets, traditional dancers, and lots of merriment. It is held each September 29th. El Jardin, the city's main plaza (zocalo) is a great starting spot. You can't miss the city's landmark, La Parroquia, the pink, gothic church on the main plaza. La Parroquia on the main plaza is as recognizable an icon for San Miguel as the Eiffel Tower is for Paris. It is one of a few features that distinguish San Miguel from the state's other colonial city attraction, Guanajuato. For shopping, the city boasts some of Mexico's best craft shops and fine art boutiques. Variety of merchandise is exceptional, as is the workmanship. Its dining scene is top notch. Nouvelle Mexican cuisine, plus a diverse assortment of international dining options have given San Miguel a reputation for having the best "small town" dining in Mexico. Most of San Miguel's sightseeing highlights are clustered around the compact downtown area. This is a wonderful city for aimless wandering along its narrow cobbled lanes. One of the best city views is from the town's Mirador, located on a hill to the southeast of the city center. At the foot of the hill is El Chorro, which spouts a natural spring where the city's women come to do laundry. Further along is Parque Juárez, a shady green belt with ponds, fountains, and benches. If you are looking for an authentic Mexican town with international flair, centuries old history, and a relaxing almost peaceful feeling, San Miguel de Allende is the vacation (or retirement spot) for you. |
| THINGS TO DO
Though known as a retirement haven San Miguel offers a wealth of leisure time activities to those that don’t believe retirement means rest. It has a reputation for outstanding hiking and biking, horseback riding and instruction, birding and rock climbing. More conventional pursuits, such as golf and tennis are also at hand and San Miguel has a number of fully-modern gyms and exercise studios. House and Garden Tour: One the more popular activities in San Miguel is the weekly tour of the town’s premier residences, if one judges by the over 10,000 visitors who participated in 2005. Over 300 local home owners open their doors on every type of architecture and interior decoration imaginable; a good source of inspiration and ideas for future residents. Tours depart from the Biblioteca on Sundays at noon, tickets can be purchased at the door from 11 am. onwards. Hot Springs: The road to Dolores Hidalgo is dotted with hot springs producing warm to hot, mineral-rich water. Facilities range from those of luxurious spas to more traditional Mexican balnearios with gardens, restaurants and picnic areas; and may include any number of pools. The pools themselves can be indoors, under the open sky or in rock-lined grottos, and range in size from small, perfect for soaking, all the way up to Olympic, ideal for laps or swimming. Fiestas: While all Mexicans love a party, it seems that no town enjoys a celebration or fiesta more than San Miguel. Local citizens take to the streets with verve and enthusiasm for traditional holidays, to honor local heroes and patron saints or sometimes, it seems, just for the fun of it. There’s always something happening; all marked with music, dance and fireworks. Of note in the upcoming months is the Chamber Music Festival in early August, September’s San Miguelada or ‘running of the bulls’ and week-long Fiesta to honor San Miguel Arcángel and the Brass & Wool Fair and Jazz Festival held in November. Wining & Dining: Whether you are an avid gourmand or someone who just likes to pick up food—fast, you will appreciate life in San Miguel. There may be no large chain restaurants, but there is a local cafe on almost every corner, offering tasty, freshly made specialities. And you are sure to discover that the towns premier restaurants can vie with those of larger North American cities for taste, style and presentation. After dinner, those in search of culture will find that their choices include gallery openings, theater, concerts, dance or foreign and classic film. Those who prefer lifting a glass can do so in everything from hard-drinking cantinas or friendly sports bars and pubs to nightclubs featuring rock, salsa blues or jazz (often live) or elegant rooftop terraces and intimate hotel lounges. Reprint permission from "Su Casa"--Your Home in San Miguel de Allende © 2006 Imprint Publishing/Advertising Telephone in San Miguel: 152-0493 |
If you read guidebooks or travel articles about México, you will read that Mexicans are wonderfully accommodating, friendly, warm, and generous to strangers. You will be given the impression these people are the “Salt of the Earth” and maybe even virtually Saints. You will be told things like, “Mexicans are helpful to a fault” and “they will be so patient with you trying to learn Spanish.” While this might be true, I have, of late, begun to doubt the multitude of clichés that pour forth from all the guidebook and article sources about Mexico. About 18 months into our expatriation experiment, my wife and I began to wonder what was going on in the heartland of Mexico. The clichés we had read in our pre-expat research were, frankly, beginning to fall apart. The longer we lived here, the more we were beginning to see things that the guidebooks gushed about Mexican’s congeniality weren’t necessarily true. Something wasn’t adding up. Guanajuato is about as much in the middle of the country as it gets. It is truly the heartland of Mexico. Here life is uber-provincial. The dictionary defines provincial as, “a person of local or restricted interests or outlook; a person lacking urban polish or refinement.” I began hearing this uber-provincial stuff more and more as the years went by. I heard this from not only American, German, and Canadian expatriates but also from Mexicans who grew up in other parts of Mexico and who, for one reason or another, ended up in Guanajuato. Certain things begin to happen to us that caused us to begin asking questions. After all, we were still very fresh and green expats who didn’t know much. But we began to ask about this or that once things started happening. I guess it was the first time I was knocked into the street by a Mexican and subsequently hit by a bus that caused me to wonder what was going on. The second time was really what got me to wondering. I was pushed off the sidewalk not once but twice into the path of an oncoming bus and was struck. Not once did anyone stop to see if I was all right. The pushers never bothered to utter one word to me. My wife has also been pushed and shoved off sidewalks. I have a 70-year-old American gringa pal who was pushed into the path of a taxi and was nailed. One just has to ask what is happening in Guanajuato, Mexico. I wish I could tell you. What I began to see long ago was that the Guanajuatenses on the street are practically running to get somewhere but never arrive on time for anything. Although all of Latin American (and Italy) is famous for how they regard time differently than the rest of the world, this has slowly been changing in the more metropolitan areas of Mexico. More and more, Mexicans are beginning to forsake their traditional understanding of what it means to be on time for anything. Not so in Guanajuato. It is just as traditional here as it has been for centuries. Some say the heartland of Mexico is “stuck in the past.” But, what you have are Guanajuatenses running at the speed of light and, I can assure you, to get nowhere fast. They are absolutely not trying to get somewhere on time. It is a cultural affectation here in Guanajuato. They will never, ever arrive on time for anything. This is a total mystery in and of itself. Why are they running? They never arrive on time for anything so what’s the rush? So, you may logically ask, why are they running down the sidewalk knocking gringos into the gutter? I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I have asked Mexicans because I have the facility in the language to do so. Most of those I have questioned are not from Guanajuato originally. They are here for a job, marriage, or whatever, and have been transplanted from other regions of Mexico. To my amazement, these Guanajuato transplants have told me that they view the people of Guanajuato as some of the rudest, most ill educated, and most ill reared Mexicans in the country. I have gotten emails from Mexicans and as well as been told in face-to-face interviews that they regard Guanajuatenses Mexicans as anti-social. This is amazing. These are Mexicans from other regions talking about their fellow Mexicans. It very much reminds me of those from the Midwest and western parts of America talking about New York. Now, I have to take the word of those who tell me this since the only place I’ve ever lived in this country is Guanajuato. But, I am beginning to take their word to heart and believe what they say, hook, line, and sinker. Our experience bears out what our Extra-Guanajuatenses have told us. Once, I got an email from a Mexican lady in Puerto Vallarta. She had read some of my articles and columns but poo-poo’ed me as a crazy gringo. Then, she and another Mexican girlfriend came traveling through Guanajuato. She said she couldn’t wait to email me and tell me how many times she was shoved off the sidewalk and pushed away from the cashier’s counter in stores. Just this morning, my wife was in line to buy some very delicious tamales. She placed her order and paid the guy. Before the seller could get out of his mouth, “One moment while I get your food” a Mexican lady, one of our congenial, warm, and kind Guanajuatenses, elbowed my wife out of line and cut in front of her. The seller had to be someone from some other part of Mexico because he noticed what happened and told this woman to get in line. A month ago, some college student who thought it was appropriate to lay hands on me and shove me a good one shoved me out of the way in a pharmacy! I wish I could tell you that these are all isolated incidents but I would be lying. The guy pushed me as though I was a piece of furniture that was in his way. The mystery is how Mexicans are supposed to be such kind, generous, and accommodating people to foreigners while in Guanajuato, you are just liable to be pushed into the path of an oncoming bus going at the speed of light. How…how…how is this so? The other day, we were exiting the post office when we saw one Mexican do something to another Mexican. This kid, in his early twenties, walked by a lady who had set her heavy bolsa (a large shopping bag) on the sidewalk while waiting for a cab. This young man kicked the bolsa into the street. It seemed unintentional. He looked briefly and then walked off. The lady took off after him. While she was trying to corral him, a bus came by and squashed her bolsa and all its contents to smithereens. My wife once had to catch an elderly lady who was shoved off a 12-inch-high sidewalk by two girls who seemed not to care a wit that they almost killed one of their fellow countrywomen. Something else that goes on in stores all over the city—another mystery--is something that would get Guanajuatenses killed in America. When you go to meat counter or any place with a counter, Guanajuatenses will shove you out of the way to bark their orders to the hired help, even though the employee was already waiting on you. Don’t miss the picture here. There you are. You’ve just given your order to the butcher for a kilo of hotdogs when some Señora puts her hands on you (or elbows you) and knocks you into the middle of next week so she can be at the front of the line. This goes on all the time, without fail, day and night—and there’s nothing you can do about it! NOTHING! Why they do it I cannot tell you. We have asked and are told that the people of Guanajuato are “malcriados” and “maleducadas” …this means ill-raised and badly-educated. I think the mystery is how did they earn the warm and inviting reputation that you read in all the guidebooks? They certainly could not have meant the heartland of Mexico, especially not Guanajuato! Perhaps it’s the other regions about which the guidebooks have been talking. I do not know! by Douglas Bower Article Source: EzineArticles.com |