We’ve been looking for the perfect sofa for our family room since we moved to the new house. It’s a tough layout, so it’s been hard to decide how we want it. By now, we’ve been to the nearby furniture stores a couple of times, we know the options and it’s just about time we make up our mind and finally get our couch. So once again and filled with optimism, we roll up for the magical furniture store tour… they’ve got everything we need, satisfaction guaranteed.

After a couple of stops, my husband suggests we go to “the one where everyone speaks Spanish”. I don’t remember that detail, but sure enough, as soon as we step in they greet us with a friendly hola. “Great! I get to speak Spanish with the seller, and even better, I can explain him in detail how challenging our family room is”, I confidently tell myself. So, off I go. I justify my first clumsy Spanish sentence because it is the transitional one. You know, where I switch the language. But then, I continue to describe to him how the TV (la televisión) is on one wall and the bonfire (la fogata) on the other. “The bonfire? The BONFIRE! Did I just say we have a fogata in our family room? That’s right. No wonder we can’t put a couch next to it!” I’m embarrassedly thinking.  He is nice enough to smile, “yeah, you mean the fireplace (la chimenea)” he says.

I want to tell him not to smile. Dear seller, don’t be nice. This seems pretty hilarious, but don’t let my tears of laughter fool you. It is not funny. In fact, it is brutal. You see, I’m a native speaker. I grew up in Mexico. I spoke Spanish all day, every day. Actually, I always secretly thought I had a decent vocabulary, and a skilled way with it. I was good with words! But that’s not all. There’s more to my tragedy: I also translate! People pay me to have the right word for that other word. Fogata? Really? Fogata!

This was my most recent episode of First Language Attrition, but I must confess I’ve had many more. Language Attrition is the loss of a first or second language or a portion of that language. People who routinely use more than one language may not use either of their languages the way a monolingual speaker would. The term First Language Attrition refers to the gradual decline in native language proficiency among migrants. Like Céline Graciet explains, “Most people take their mother tongue for granted. They don’t consider the fact that those who live in a foreign environment are at risk of losing some of their language skills and fluency if they aren’t looked after”.

Besides the technical difficulties, forgetting your language can also be deeply emotional. As Alexander McCall Smith puts it: “To lose your own language is like forgetting your mother, and as sad, in a way”, because it is “like losing part of one’s soul”. I refuse to let that happen. Just as passionate as I was when encouraging my students to immerse into English, I will be an advocate for Spanish. I will speak it, I will listen to it and I will teach it. I may start by watching the news in Spanish in our new cozy couch.

October 21st we came back home from San Francisco. We’d been there for a couple of games and that night the San Francisco Giants had won over the Philadelphia Phillies and how they became the 2010 World Series Champions is history by now. My life changed that night when I learned I was pregnant. As in an out-of-body experience (ironically it was a very much in-the-body one) I didn’t know anything else at that moment, because the overwhelming emotions were just too many to classify them. The only certainty was that my life wouldn’t be the same after that night.

Of course the thought of having a buddy around who would finally appreciate a good Disney movie the way I do made things easier, but I was still concerned about a lot of things, and the feeling of being away from my known territory was probably the main one. After all, one thing was me having fun with all this California dreaming extravaganza, and another very different one was to raise a kid in a foreign country.

From how the medical services would work here to the differences in the educational system, I was drowning in questions. Where would I take him when he breaks a tooth on a Sunday afternoon like in that TV commercial? What if it’s an arm? Don’t kids break their bones all the time? At least in Mexico I’d know exactly where to run to in case of an emergency. What is co-pay? And, who pays for the cello when he joins the school band? Do kids here attend the school that corresponds to their school district? What is our school district? Is it based on our address? Is this how you people decide on real estate? Somehow I would be so ready to be a parent if I was in Mexico, but here, I’m always missing something!

Speaking of missing something, and again, speaking of speaking… will he speak Spanish? How couldn’t he, right? Will I be able to teach him myself? How about communicating with his family in Mexico? Oh, dear Mexico, will he see you as the foreign country? What about those cultural aspects tacitly learned that I won’t be able to pass on because they are implied precisely in being part of a society I no longer belong to? Can you teach somebody how to be Mexican?

Fortunately, he was a lot more relaxed and he must have rubbed it off on me because it only took to see him through that ultrasound to bring me back to the world of the living. He is beautiful, he is healthy, he is chillin’ out and he is cool with things as they are… and then I realized that so am I. Actually, things are as great as they could possibly be. I can only be grateful for them all. For my wonderful gringo husband who takes care of us, in English and everything. For the nice and safe place that will see us grow together as a family. For the helpful and smart people I have around me to support and educate me during these exciting and learning times. I’m very thankful I get to live it all in this country that only continues to make my life a very happy one.

There are two articles that I recently found about billingualism and Spanglish which made me want to be part of the conversation. The first one: Intermingling languages: From conversation to literature by Francois Grosjean and the second one: Why does Spanglish get such a bad rap? by Roxana Soto from Spanglishbaby.com.

I too find the bilingual behavior fascinating and enriching. I speak Spanish. I learned English in school, in Mexico. I didn’t grow up in a bilingual home or in a community where code-switching was common. Actually, I didn’t consider myself “bilingual” until not so long ago, and sometimes it still feels like a very ambitious adjective for me to use, as someone whose adult life is now spent at Wordreference.com. Note the also very ambitious use of the term “adult”.

I tried to find a serious definition of Spanglish without success. The definitions as well as the value judgment vary depending on who you ask. For some people raised in a bicultural atmosphere, it is a normal and expected phenomenon which precisely defines their culture. Among others who may not be part of the bicultural/bilingual experience, it is more likely to be seen as a distortion of the language and even as a lack of skill and vocabulary.

Again, it can mean different things. In my opinion, switching from one phrase in English to another in Spanish is not Spanglish. I mean, if those phrases are constituted by correct grammar and real words, it is either English or Spanish. To me, Spanglish, the one I “look down upon”, if anything, refers to the sudden invention of words, unfortunate use of “false friends” (pairs of words or phrases in two languages that look or sound similar, but differ in meaning) and misguessed cognates.

While funny in most cases, nobody would want their Bachelor’s degree confused with bachillerato (high school) on a certificate or have their gringo husband telling people you are embarazada (pregnant) because you blushed. (The bump might not be helping my case here). By the way, I really am pregnant but not embarrassed about it.

The more time I spend thinking in English the easier it is to incorporate English words into my informal Spanish and vice versa when I know the recipient will clearly understand what I mean. I definitely get the recurrent argument that some concepts are better expressed in a certain language. Our inner speech is developed from external speech; the more resources we have to express our mental concepts and cognitive awareness the more efficiently we will be able to voice our thoughts. Put in the famous words of Wittgenstein: “the limits of my language are the limits of my world”.

On the other hand, as a translator, I’d better be able to deliver whatever concept is necessary in a sensible and accurate way in my target language. I am still learning English everyday as it is the language surrounding me mostly. But I do feel a responsibility towards my Spanish to somehow preserve its proper use given the language-suffocating environment. I want to be able to use it and understand it correctly when a formal context arises, when the circumstances require it and most importantly, I want to be able to pass it on as intact as it was given to me. I told you I was ambitious.

By Rick Dudgeon

First, lest anyone be offended, let me start by saying that gringo is not an epithet in Mexico.  If they use it at all, it is used affectionately.  But they really don’t. The title is an homage to my wife’s first article, A Chilanga in Wisconsin.

I was one of those timid Americans who swore he’d never travel to Mexico.  I’d heard too many stories about Montezuma’s revenge and police abuses to believe that I would ever feel safe there.  It took true love for me to finally overcome my fears.  Can you guess where my wife is from?

Since then, I’ve traveled to Cancun; the Mexican Riviera; Morelia, Michoacán; the biggest city in the world, Mexico City; and even that poor cousin Tijuana.  I still have a lot of Mexico left to explore.  But I may have accumulated enough experience to maybe be helpful to the uninitiated.  And I’ve never encountered abusive police or Montezuma’s revenge.

First, don’t stress about the language barrier.  If you travel to Mexico, and you know any Spanish at all, use it. Most Mexicans will appreciate your attempt to use their language, and will patiently try to understand what you are trying to say.  If you know no Spanish at all, don’t despair.  While everyone you meet might not speak conversational English, English is taught in most schools in Mexico from an early age.  It might take some effort and maybe some sign language, but you can usually make yourself understood.  The Mexican people are very hospitable and will generally be very patient with your attempts to communicate.

If you travel to one of the more popular tourist destinations, like Cancun, English is almost as common as Spanish.  But practice your Spanish.  It’s fun!

One of the hardest things for me in Mexico is the exchange rate.  Today, one peso is the equivalent of 8 cents US, or, going the other way, one US dollar is a little more than 12.5 pesos.  I try to remember that 20 bucks is about 250 pesos.  So if a restaurant bill is around 500 pesos, that’s about $40 US.  It sounds simple, but take some time to think about it.  I have paid $5 when I thought I was paying 50 cents.  This rate changes every day, so check before you go.

Spending money gets especially tricky when traveling to the tourist hotspots.  Here, some shops will post their prices in US dollars.  Others will have their prices in pesos.  I’ve even seen both in the same shop.  And they use the same $ symbol!  So $200 might be two hundred dollars, or two hundred pesos, about 16 dollars.  So always ask, and if you’re using a credit card, look carefully before you sign.  I once saw a watch I loved in a shop in Playa del Carmen.  The price tag said $800, so I thought I was buying it for 800 pesos, about 65 dollars.  But the price was already in US dollars.  If I hadn’t asked, I would have had a very large shock when I got my credit card statement.

I love driving in Mexico.  It’s an adventure.  When I arrive safely at my destination, I feel like I’ve just won the Indi 500.  But my advice is, don’t do it, especially in the urban areas.  I think the driving laws are very similar there.  But in practice, they are very different.  Lines on the road are suggestions.  A red light means slow down.  And people don’t even notice stop signs.  Even one-way street signs are frequently ignored.  At a minimum, make sure you’ve observed a lot of driving there before you try it yourself.  If you rent a car in Mexico, you will pay more for the insurance than you will for the car.  And it’s worth it.  So be careful about jumping at advertised rental rates.  They are not the price you will actually pay.

Just like in the US, most Mexicans are honest and decent people.  But, just like in the US, there are some bad elements.  And there are some bad areas to avoid, just like in New York City or Milwaukee.  Before travelling to Mexico or any other country, I highly recommend visiting the US State Department website and reading the country specific travel information.  It has very detailed advice about many subjects, from which taxis to take, to which beaches to avoid.

We just celebrated Halloween. Trick or treaters with sharp fangs and claws enjoyed a night of spooky fun and sugar rush. Being such a playful holiday it is hard not to spread the spirit with our neighbors, so in Mexico too kids go out and ask for their Calaveritas dressed in costumes and without any real intentions of tricking you.

But then on November 1^st and 2^nd we also celebrate Día de Muertos.  Although the origins of the celebration of the Day of the Dead go back to pre-Hispanic times, it is celebrated now in connection to the Catholic holidays of All Saints’ Day. The idea is to remember our departed family and friends by setting up altars with offerings like their favorite food and memorabilia or personal objects for their souls to enjoy their visit to the world of the living during these two days. The first day is dedicated to the kids while the adults are honored on the second day.

The altars vary in style according to the region and local traditions, but in most of them cempasúchil flower will be found, as well as sugar skulls, cut out paper with different designs and candles. They will go from small offerings at home to very big productions in public places, like the ones displayed at the Zócalo Square in Mexico City. Some people will take them to the actual cemeteries and will adorn the tombs of their loved ones while they spend the night eating and praying.

There are traditional places where the spectacle is expected every year such as in Mixquic, near Mexico City and the island of Janitzio, in Michoacán. People from around the world travel to experience the impressive and beautiful ritual.

La Catrina, an elegant skull, was popularized by printmaker José Guadalupe Posada back in 1913 and has become a staple of Day of the Death expressed in different artistic designs. Another fun typical element are the Calaveras, short rhyming poems in “memory” of a person as if they were already deceased.  Calaveras about public figures and politicians are often published in newspapers at this time to satirize or criticize them.  More often, though, Mexicans come up with these playful rhymes to tease their friends or family members. 

No celebration is complete without food. Again, although the traditional recipes will be as vast as the regions where the offerings are held, one of the most popular ones is Calabaza en Tacha, a pumpkin dessert prepared with cinnamon and piloncillo (dark sugar cones) and bakeries around the country sell Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead bread, decorated with strips of dough simulating bones).

Mexicans are known for our festive spirit and Día de Muertos reflects it perfectly. We celebrate life, we handcraft our traditions, we are believers and we love great food!

In 2008 the festivity was inscribed on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity (originally proclaimed in 2003) by UNESCO. Thanks Mike Romo for the reference!

September 15th marks the beginning of the Hispanic Heritage Month; it is when Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua celebrate their independence from the Spanish rule. My beloved Mexico starts celebrating that night too, though the official Mexican Independence Day is the 16th. For Chile, it is the 18th.

A lot of people mistakenly think the Cinco de Mayo is Mexico’s Independence Day. On May 5th 1862, Mexican troops defeated the occupying French forces during the attack of the Forts of Loreto and Guadalupe, in Puebla. We do get the day off, but it’s hardly a celebration. At least not like it is here in the US. Here, it is more like St. Patrick’s Day, an excuse for everyone to eat chips and salsa and drink margaritas. That’s alright; it gives us a chance to come together, show solidarity, and celebrate where we are from. But we save most of our Mexican pride in the form of partying spirit for soccer games and September 15th.

On the dawn of September 16 in 1810, Father Hidalgo, a Creole priest from a parish in the small town of Dolores in Guanajuato, cried out to demand Mexico’s independence from the Spanish, gathering and organizing the people by ringing the church bell and talking them into freeing themselves from the social injustice and oppression. The plan had been to start the revolution in October, as Hidalgo and other insurgents like Ignacio Allende, Juan Aldama and Mariano Abasolo had conspired, but they were busted and forced to move up the date. Led by Hidalgo, armed with axes, machetes and knives and adopting the picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe as their banner, Indians, Creoles and Mestizos fought the Spanish artillery. It took eleven years of war until the independence was consummated.

Every year, on the night of September 15, the “Cry of Dolores” is reenacted in every plaza in Mexico. In Mexico City it takes place at the Zócalo, where the President rings the historic bell held in the presidential balcony at Palacio Nacional proclaiming long live the heroes that gave us nation and liberty, our independence and Mexico! This ceremony is followed by music and fireworks and on the morning of the 16th there is a military parade. All the celebrations were especially impressive this year, because of the 200 anniversary of the Independence and centennial of the Revolution.

You might have heard a lot about the things that need to be fixed and improved in Mexico. We are well aware of those. But to be fair, there are also a lot of great things about our country that make us proud and grateful. We may not be wealthy, but we are rich. We are rich in natural beauty and resources. We are rich in history and we honor our ancestors because we owe it to them. We are culturally diverse and rich in traditions. We are rich in flavors. We are rich in sounds. And most importantly we are rich in our wonderful people. ¡Viva México!

There are different reasons why we decide to leave our home country to engage in the adventure of moving into the land of hope. Although there are as many stories as there are immigrants, we all have the pursuit of happiness in common.

We leave our family and friends, speak a different language and miss our food (ok, we… the cooking challenged ones at least).  We get homesick at some point. But if we could do it again, would we? According to last year’s Public Agenda’s poll, most of us would.

The survey included 1,138 immigrants. Fifty-three percent are somewhat happy with their lives in the United States. Seventy percent think they are most likely to make it their permanent home. It took 1 to under 2 years for 47% to feel comfortable and part of the community. Seventy-six percent think the United States is a unique country that stands for something special in the world and 63% believe it is possible to be successful if you work hard.

That last point being the key one, in my opinion. Many of my fellow Mexicans, for instance, don’t need me to even get started talking about working hard. But it’s all worth it because the driving force is hope. The thought of their lives being improved, their kids having better opportunities and the ability to provide for their families is what keeps them going. As different as our stories are, this optimism is the common ground that we all share. It is why 71% of us would do it all over again.

Maybe in a Maslowian kind of logic, where we need to satisfy our most basic needs before we can start ambitioning deeper ones, we find it easier to focus on our big picture in this country. If it is true, and our motivations are driven by our unsatisfied needs, it would explain why people who had to worry about bringing home the bacon, may have found new goals that weren’t a priority before. It also would explain the struggle to get adjusted to a new community since we need to have our social needs covered before we can aim for self-fulfillment. But once we belong, have friends and are loved, we can move on and look for attention and recognition, self-respect and achievement, which would lead to reaching our full potential. Maybe that makes sense or maybe there is just something special indeed about this place where optimism rubs off on us and makes us believe that the American dream is available to all of us if we keep up the positive spirit.

When I first arrived in Wisconsin, I learned that people needed a Social Security Number to work, and they made a big deal out of it. I didn’t really understand how I was to be part of a social security program without having a job in the first place. I thought if someone was willing to hire me, they could just change my visa status from visitor to worker and then we would all dance around in contentment. That’s not exactly what the other Mexicans were doing anyway and now I understand a little better.

The main point of the SSN is to track individuals for taxation purposes.  It has become the ultimate ID number and it is issued to U.S. citizens, permanent residents and temporary (working) residents. It’s needed to get a driver’s license, credit, enroll in college, open a bank account, etc. What basically gives it the social security connotation is that it ensures a pension for retired and disabled people.

Although the social security concept may be the same in most places, providing welfare and social insurance programs, the way that it is delivered can be really different in other countries.

In Mexico, social security is not only for retirement, but almost a synonym of healthcare. Public healthcare is provided as guaranteed in our Constitution to all Mexican citizens. Everyone is eligible for subsidized healthcare regardless of their work status through different facilities operating under the Secretaría de Salud (Secretariat of Health).

However, employed citizens and their dependents are also eligible to use the programs administered and operated by the Instituto Mexicano del Seguro Social (Mexican Social Security Institute). The IMSS program is a tripartite system funded equally by the employee, the private employer and the federal government. Besides the medical benefits, it also provides financial and social services for the workers. Clinics and hospitals are the best known face of the Institute, but there are also recreational and training centers, daycare facilities, funeral homes, stores and even resorts.

Employees of the public sector are serviced by the Instituto de Seguridad y Servicios Sociales de los Trabajadores del Estado, ISSSTE (Institute for Social Security and Services for State Workers), which attends to the health and social care needs of government employees.

Each state’s government also provides health services independently of those services provided by the federal government programs.

A lot of people complain about the public health and social care services in Mexico, and though a list of the good and the bad could very well fit in here, I can’t be neutral. My family has been benefited by IMSS in many different ways: first of all, they have employed my mother for 30 years or so and that, besides a paycheck, has given us good times, friends, learning experiences and growth. Because of them I got my first job. They have also welcomed us in the middle of the night when we felt sick, they have been generous either with an aspirin or with chemotherapy, and in happier times they have been the destination for some of the best family vacations and childhood memories I have.

Learning a second language is a very complex process, and it’s especially challenging for adults because it involves a lot of brain stretching in several stages. Kids have it a little easier. Their brains are flexible, they don’t rely on previous knowledge as much as grownups and they are still learning pretty much about it all, so a second language comes just as a part of that process.

It’s been demonstrated that a better reading comprehension is developed by bilingual children. They are used to reading materials, understanding them and then explaining them to their parents. They also develop agile minds, better verbal ability and general reasoning, tutoring skills, civic responsibility and social maturity. On the not so bright side, translating for their families can be a real burden for both parents and kids. Just because kids speak two languages, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they can translate or interpret.  Most people don’t realize how hard it can be. It’s not just switching words between languages, but ideas that need to be delivered and children may not know the appropriate vocabulary to express the information.

Some common situations where children are asked to translate include parent-teacher conferences, doctor appointments, in stores, restaurants, on the street and texts like receipts, insurance papers and manuals.

There are some risks in having the children translate: from not getting the message through and lack of accuracy to hurting the kid’s self-esteem and confidence. At school for example, students may not feel comfortable interpreting for their parents if they don’t like the information being presented or if they’re getting in trouble. I read a case where the teachers reported that some students told their parents that ‘F’ stood for “fantástico”. This also impacts in the parent-child dynamic, when parents find it hard to discipline kids having to depend on them for some of the tasks at home, like the 12-year-old who has to translate insurance and credit card bills, “government mail and regular tax stuff” and writes checks for his mom.

For some of these children, the amount of responsibility they feel is overwhelming. It can be really stressing as the child feels responsible for not being able to solve a problem for the parent. In a study where they interviewed the kids, a 9-year-old girl explained how scary it was to translate for her mom at the doctor’s office, she was nervous that she wouldn’t understand the “big words” doctors use. Another teenager wasn’t thrilled to interpret for her mother at the gynecologist’s either.

Even when Spanish speaking parents make an effort to study and try to learn English, their children still play a crucial role as mediators.  Though the commendable purpose of deciphering for their families is fulfilled, it also produces many interesting side effects.

All of the above… we’re Mexican! After finding some articles offering a list of social graces and rules of social etiquette in Mexico, I realized we do have this sort of tacit code when it comes to the meet and greet dynamic in our culture. However, I don’t believe we need to become the embodiment of sophistication, as some of those rules suggest, to come across as we really want to.

In Mexico we can be a little too polite for the American standards. It is common to refer to people differently depending on the context. Sometimes we use the formal form “usted” when dealing with people we don’t know or to show respect, instead of “tú” which we use with friends and informal situations. In a work environment, a person is often addressed by their professional title, such as “Licenciado” (e.g. Lawyer, BA and BSc), Engineer, Doctor, etc.  

We also like to get physical, so the affection showing may vary depending on the situation and/or the closeness of the relationship. A handshake can’t go wrong for a first introduction. It is formal and simple. If you don’t know the person, if it’s a business meeting or if you just don’t feel comfortable enough to get closer, handshake is the safest choice. Comfort is probably the key. I was reading this girl’s blog telling her experience in Mexico and she said she would kiss everyone at the slightest attempt of leaning, leading to many awkward moments like when that guy was just trying to tell her something and she kissed him out of the blue instead.

The kiss is a tricky one. I guess you can say you kiss among friends and family, but sometimes it can be extended to friends of friends and family of family… I’m thinking on a party, for example. I kiss everyone they introduce me to. I kissed friends at school and friends at the office twice a day, one kiss hello and one kiss good-bye. If you’re a celebrity at work like my mother, you could be kissing an average of 50 people on a regular day. Don’t worry about the swine flu, the kiss doesn’t need your lips to make contact with the kissed entity really, it’s more like a cheek to cheek air kiss type.

The best gesture is the one that comes genuinely. No greeting formality can top that. I am a hugger, for example. More than a cultural thing, I guess it’s just personal style. I remember at the Literacy Council, it was one of the volunteer’s birthday and that’s pretty much all I needed to know about the lady to jump and give her a hug. The intern working that summer shook her hand instead explaining she didn’t like to hug or be hugged because of the invasion of personal space. Fair enough. Fascinating concept when you come from a city with a population density of 5,900 souls per square kilometer.