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Rediscovering Mexico
Out of the tourist towns, the people and country sparkle
At least I couldn't
say anything to mess it up with Fatima and her muy chica sister
MONTERREY, Mexico – It was
as refreshing as jumping in the ocean on a hot day, as revitalizing
as a power nap in the middle of a lazy afternoon.
This was the Mexico as I had originally known, the one taught to me
by my aunt who lived in Mexico City for a dozen or so years, the place
with people as warm as the weather.
Monterrey is not on the water, does not have resorts and there's not
a college student on Spring Break in sight.But what it does possess
is the kind of culture, sophistication and people that I've found so
lacking in other Mexican places of late. In just four days, Monterrey
reaffirmed my faith in Mexico and the Mexican people.
Okay, it helped that I met a girl. A quite beautiful girl, in fact.
Her long, soft black hair just sparkles in candlelight and frames a
face so fantastic and a smile so sensational that it still sends chills
up my spine.
She's hot, as we say in this country, though if I were to call her
"caliente" I doubt she would comprehend the compliment. That
is because Fatima is one of the few people in Monterrey who does not
speak English. (I did, however, teach her a few California slang terms
I taught her such as "right on," "sweet!," and the
various meanings of "dude.")
But it wasn't just Fatima that made this visit such a special experience.
• It was getting served 2-for-1 margaritas by nuns in a convent
restaurant.
• Being chased down by a waiter because my math sucks and
the total I wrote on the credit card receipt left the him an additional
$1 USD tip.
• Having the guy at the hotel reception desk tell me he knows
Fatima and that his name is Luis and if I ever want to talk to her,
then phone him first and he will serve as our translator.
This is so opposite of some recent experiences in Mexico that it hardly
seems like the same country. Recent experiences in Cabo and Rosarito
had me running for the border.
In Cabo, waiters giddily bring beer to you all day long but when it's
time to leave. the bill is twice as much as it should be and your "amigos"
suddenly forget how to speak English. In Rosarito, the Federalies threaten
to arrest you for whatever "infraction" pops into their mind
at the moment unless you pull out whatever US greenback(s) is most handy
(so, always have a $10 at the ready; otherwise, it will cost you $20,
or even $40).
Granted, these are total tourist towns but still, I high-tailed it
to Greece where I've had bartenders tell me they don't want my money
as long as I have a good time (hardly an issue, by the way).
So, when Championship Auto Racing Teams (CART) summoned me to Monterrey
to assist with its press operations for the Tecate/Telmex Grand Prix
of Monterrey auto race, I was hardly looking forward to going back to
Mexico.
Still, it was a chance for me to experience a new place and so I kept
an open mind. And I liked the place almost immediately.
Located in north central mainland a two-hour plane ride from Dallas,
Monterrey is a stronghold of American businesses. It is very definitely
Mexico but has a cool European flair with just a touch of Americana.
 It's
focal point is a large pedestrian square, which I was eager to explore
upon arrival. I'm telling you, I must be part Magellan and part insect
because I love exploring new places and I'm attracted to bright lights.
I wandered around for about an hour, checking out shops, shoppers
and a Mexican song and dance show in the middle of the square before
sitting down to eat at the most intriguing place I could find –
a restaurant featuring nuns as waitresses. (I checked, the place served
alcohol.)
It was here that I instantly regretted not having boned up on my basic
Espanol before making the trip because my waitress did not speak English
and I was struggling to remember even the most basic phrases ("Yo
quiero uno mas margarita, por favor" should be committed to everyone's
memory).The salsa had a bigger kick than Adam Venaturi, and I was in
constant need of margarita attention.
My lack of Espanol preparation really came back to haunt me the next
night. After a full day at the track, I set out to explore Barrio Antiguo
("Old Town"), a collection of hot nightclubs, bars and restaurants.
In search of a lively spot for a meal, I stopped a couple of lovely
local girls who were among the dozens of people walking the streets.
"Perdon, senoritas," I said. "Donde esta bueno cantina
aqui?"
"Well," they replied in perfect English, "there's one
over there, and another one down that street."
At least I tried.
Eventually, I discovered a neat little bar that had "Europe"
written all over it. Cafe Galleria was small and intimate with
artwork on the walls, candles providing most of the lighting, soft but
hip music and a cool crowd. It reminded me of a bar in Greece (minus
the dancing on the tables) where I spent a few fun evenings.
No sooner did I get my beer ($2, for those taking notes) than I met
dos senoritas. They turned out to be Fatima and her sister, Yesenia.
They invited me join them and it turned into one of those magic moments
that deifies explanation. Fatima and I focused onto each other like
a Sports Illustrated photographer at a swimsuit issue photo shoot. We
did not speak the same words, but we sure understood each other.
At the same time, I as I fumbled with my Spanish and Yesina tried to
inject her little bit of English, it took me back to times in Europe
or communicating using a very limited vocabulary, which is one of my
thrills of traveling.
They took me dancing but when the watch struck 2:30, I had to call
it a night. After all, I had a race the next day. So, we made plans
to meet out the next night and I would bring along an amigo for Yesina.
The next morning, I bounded over to my buddy at Honda motorsports and
told him we had dates for the night. I enlisted the services of our
outstanding press room volunteer, a multi-lingual Canadian named Nadia,
to phone the girls to set the night. This is when I discovered a glaring
error in my Espanol. Yesina turned out not to be 27 years old as I had
interpreted the night before, but 17!
This sent my Honda buddy scattering,but I still met the girls out that
night. For a couple of hours, Fatima and I pretty much just sat on a
couch staring at each other with drinks in our hands. Eventually, Nadia
showed up and brought nearly the entire bar over to sit with us.
So there I was, just three nights after first arriving in Monterrey,
having fun with a dozen new friends and a beautiful girl by my side.
Yes, this is the Mexico that I had been missing.
Oh, one key word Luis taught me: bonita. I said this to Fatima and
she melted like butter in a hot saucepan. I'm now trying to learn as
much Spanish as possible for a future meeting with Fatima. In the meantime,
you should see me try and read and send her e-mails in Espanol.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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