September House sitter 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 |
| There are a thousand and one descriptions of San Miguel de Allende written over the past decades. Here's one writer's short take:
San Miguel's reputation as an arts center was established by the founding of the Allende Institute. One of its American founders, Stirling Dickson, came to Mexico as a tourist in the 1930s and fell in love with the city. A painter and engraver, he helped inaugurate the institute in 1950 and was its director until 1987. The lovely building housing the school once was owned by the wealthy Canal familiy. Fountains, arcades and courtyards gardens grace the grounds of the campus, which has extensive classroom space, two are galleries, a theter and a library. Students from throughout the Americas take advantage of the art and language classes offered, and the institute also functions as a campus abroad for several American and Canadian art schools. The Centro Cultural Bellas Artes, is also known as the Centro Cultural el Nigromante (its official name) and the Centro Cultural Ignacio Ramirez. It is a branch of the wellknown Instituto de Bellas Artes in Mexico City. The impressive building, which dates from the mid-18th century, was once the Convento de la Concepcion and features an immense, tree-shaded courtyard. It offers music, dance and visual arts classes; a bulletin board lists lectures and concerts given both here and elsewhere in the city. Several murals are also exhibited, including one by David Alfaro Siqueirs. San Miquel is known for the variety and quality of its regionally produced handycrafts. Metalwork -- masks, trays, lanterns, picture frames and decorative objects made of tin, copper, brass, bronze and wrought iron -- and the design of local silversmiths are particularly worth seeking out. Also available are pottery, weaving, sculpture, straw items, hand-loomed cambaya cloth (a material frequently used to make skirts), and folk and traditional art. The colonial furniture is some of the finest produced in Mexico. Open-air Mercado Ignacio Ramirez, the city market, fills the plaza in front of the Oratorio de San Felipe Neri, and spreads onto the surrounding streets. Livestock and fresh preduce share space with inexpensive everyday items and souvenirs at the cheaper end of the price scale. The Mercado de Artesanias consists of vendor stalls in an alley. Pricier boutiques are scatted throughout the downtown area. Art galleries are concentrated around the main plaza, and exhibit openings are big social events. Two that showcase both regional and national talents are Galeria San Miguel and Galeria Atena. |
I thought I would write a follow-up to my column, “Move Over San Miguel de Allende Here I Come”, since this is the only thing, writing, that prevents from committing murderous acts of rage (Just Joking!) As you recall from the previous column, I wrote how I tried to deposit a royalty check from my publisher and was told the check would clear on four different dates. We were shown, last week, on their computer screen that the funds would be available on the 18th of December. Well, today is the 18th. We marched down to the bank and, of course, in the truest sense of TMO (Typical Mexican Operation) the funds were not available. We went into the bank so I could seize a bank officer and choke him (just kidding!). No, we talked to this guy who thought it cute to mumble at us. He actually told us something entirely new. He said that “the 18th” did not really mean “the 18th” but it meant sometime after 6 p.m. on the 18th but before mid-night on the 18th and…and…maybe even the 19th. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? This my dear readers is what we anal-retentive Americans (and “strung-tighter-than-piano wire Germans”) have to deal with when we become expatriates living in Mexico. It would seem, and I could be wrong, that Mexican banks just make up stuff as they go along. There are no policy manuals, procedural steps, no rules, just the “fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants” way of doing things. “Qué Será, Será: What ever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see. Qué Será, Será.” This is exactly how things are done in central México. I have to tell you though, those from other regions of the country are as dumbfounded as I am. They tell me that this region of Mexico is “stuck in time and history.” They are provincial to the point of having been throw into a time loop and cannot escape the temporal hole they’ve been in since the middle ages. Time forgot central Mexico and no one seems to really care to crawl out of this dimensional morass in which they are quagmired. What are we going to do? I do not know. But, we are looking to other areas of Mexico that may not be like living in a Latino Twilight Zone. My fellow American expat said this: “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.” She has no idea what truth she spoke! by Douglas Bower Article Source: EzineArticles.com |
November 21, 2006 Greetings: |
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 |