the story of an outsider

Is Mexico a good place for everyone? Sometimes I ask myself, “Do I really belong in Mexico?” Loud music, crowds, nationalistic parades and sunshine most days are not my thing. In contrast to the Mexican indirect communication style, I prefer to the grain (get to the point) and am usually in bed by 9pm. Mexican food is OK, but I prefer Asian.

So how could an outsider like me fall in love with Mexico?

A few months ago, I had an experience that answered my question. I was on my way to a friend’s house in Guanajuato, the UNESCO World Heritage site in central Mexico where my husband Barry and I live part of the year. Walking through one of the labyrinthine Subscribe to (alleys), I passed several children kicking a ball. It landed in a corner next to me and to my surprise I kicked it back. They screamed; I grinned. They hadn’t expected a woman their age. grandparents Play ball, a gringa no less. The ball bounced next to me again. I kicked it hard and we all ran after it, laughing. “Fun!” I thought. Funny. Still laughing, I waved goodbye and set off.

I don’t often find myself playing ball with kids like a silly eight-year-old. When I told my husband about it that night, Barry said, “In Mexico, people laugh more. They’re more relaxed and friendly.” After living in Guanajuato off and on for twenty years, I wonder if I’m now, well, a nicer person. I’m definitely less argumentative and defensive. More playful.

Is it because you’re among Mexicans, or is it because of the Spanish? Studies suggest that speaking another language brings out other qualities in a person. Novelist Isabel Allende is convinced: “I live in California – in English – but I can only write in Spanish. In fact, all the basic things in my life happen in Spanish, like scolding my grandchildren, cooking and making love.”

I never thought that learning a language would bring out dormant parts of me, but Spanish allows me to be someone else for a change, rather than just wearing the old English-speaking image I lived with for so many years. Photos of me as a child show me laughing and being silly, but that gradually faded as an adult. I enjoyed my work as a training consultant, but as a company owner in Silicon Valley, competition was very fierce, and to be even remotely successful I had to be focused and serious. I was constantly worried about my personality and how I came across. While running the seminars themselves was great fun, marketing my company was very stressful.

When I started learning Spanish in Mexico, I was lifted up by the vocabulary and sounds. Spanish has certain words that I like to use but that I just can’t express in English. Rincon literally means a corner, but it could also be a corner, a niche or a feature – like the altars of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Guanajuato, that keep cropping up Subscribe to. Or ojalaa word of Arabic origin meaning “if it is God’s will” and more commonly “hopefully”. I can’t imagine saying “if it is God’s will” in English.

As for the subjunctive, the bane of all Spanish learners, I’ve grown to like it so much that I look for opportunities to use it. The subjunctive expresses uncertainty, doubt, and the unknown. In English, I’ve diligently taught myself to be the exact opposite: firm, direct, and “sure,” as we used to say as children. Don’t mess with me; I am a woman, hear me roar! But in Spanish it’s different, there I willingly surrender myself to unpredictability and mystery.

I once asked a Spanish teacher if the subjunctive was used more often by women than men. He was surprised by the question, but after some thought, said “yes.” I was not surprised. Traditionally, women are conditioned to speak in a placating manner, to use an upward slant at the end of a sentence, and to ask questions like “Could you…”, “Would you mind if…”, and “If it’s not too much trouble…”. While my English-speaking self would run like hell from the uncertain subjunctive, my Spanish self seeks to woo it.

The rhythm and sounds of Spanish are pure music. When I hear Spanish vowels cascading out of me, I feel lyrical and euphonious. Sometimes I sound like a rolling train, its wheels clattering on the tracks of Spanish consonants.

I will always remain faithful to English. I love its richness, its Euclidean directness, its fusion of Germanic and Latin. English is the language of my birth, my family, my roots. But there is room in my heart for more than one language, and Mexican Spanish is the gift that takes me not only to new worlds, but also to a new me.

Louisa Rogers and her husband Barry Evans divide their lives between Guanajuato and Eureka on California’s North Coast. Louisa writes articles and essays about expat life, Mexico, travel, physical and mental health, retirement and spirituality. Her latest articles can be found on her website, https://authory.com/LouisaRogers