Dear Mexican: I heard Mormonism is a quickly spreading religion down in ye olde Mexico. What is it about this religion that a lot of Mexicans find so fascinating?
— Jack Mormón
Dear Gabacho: Historically? Mexico has long had the second-largest community of Mormons in the world after the United States — official LDS figures estimate 1.2 million members live in Mexico, an increase from the 783,000 estimated in 1999. This community has existed for almost 135 years, created after polygamous Mormons who wanted to keep their multiple wives moved down south because, hey, anything goes down Mexico way, right? Sociologically? Mormons are masters of proselytizing — the increase in numbers “shows that a church group can produce a short-term phenomenal growth rate by committing resources to missionary activity,” according to professor James W. Dow in his 2003 scholarly paper, “The Growth of Protestant Religions in Mexico and Central America.” Theologically? My understanding of Mormonism is that it places an emphasis on the family, encourages couples to have as many children as possible, stresses the dominion of the husband over the family, and hates homosexuals. If those attributes aren’t appealing to Mexicans, then I’m Moroni himself.
Why do Mexicans from Jalisco look down on Mexicans from other parts of Mexico?
— El Gallo Negro
Dear Black Rooster: Because tapatiós are the Texans of Mexico: an arrogant, brilliant, overly patriotic group that government officials romanticize as the id of the national psyche, and whose societal characteristics and traditions became easily identifiable stereotypes to the rest of the world. Déjame give you an example: you know how a lot of gabachos assume all Mexicans wear massive sombreros, love the tequila, play mariachi, and have the potential to grow mustaches as thick as the Amazon rain forest? That’s because all those stereotypes originated from Jalisco, the birthplace of mariachi and tequila, where the native sombrero is huge and brimmed, and most of the men can grow big bigotes because of the Spanish blood inside them. Mexican officials starting in the 1930s specifically picked Jalisco to immortalize in films and other cultural exports so that the rest of the world assumed all Mexicans were just the same. “Needing a people who could personify hispanismo,” wrote Joanne Hirschfield in “Race and Class in the Classical Cinema,” an essay in the anthology Mexico’s Cinema: A Century of Film and Filmmakers, “its proponents found them in … Jalisco. The mythology of [Jalisco] created a horse-riding people who were devoutly Catholic and capitalistic, had never intermarried with Indians, and played Mariachi music.”
Because of this propaganda effort, people from Jalisco — just like those from Texas — have a notorious superiority complex, but each state or region in Mexico occupies a certain strata in la república that matches up to our own states. People from Zacatecas, for instance, are the Iowans of Mexico: hard-working, humble, and famous for its immigration to other lands. Mexico City is New York City, of course, while Monterrey is more like the Boston of Mexico, although more on the Brahmin side than the racist mick part. Sonora and Sinaloa are an eternal Wild West, literally (as they occupy the western part of Mexico) and figuratively (the narco wars), while Oaxaca and Chiapas are our Guatemala, not just because of their geographical proximity to the country, but because of the large indigenous population. I can go on, but this humble Zacatecan must go back to work exposing Jaliscans as the blowhards they are.
Get all your Mexican fun at myspace.com/ocwab, youtube.com/askamexicano, or send your questions to themexican@askamexican.net!
A Note From the Publisher
Dear Readers,
The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.
That’s because of you!
Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.
Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.
We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.
And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.
None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.
As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.
Thank you for standing with us!
Publisher
Eugene Weekly
P.S. If you’d like to talk about supporting EW, I’d love to hear from you!
jody@eugeneweekly.com
(541) 484-0519