Mullets, Mustaches and Faux-Hawks

I'm going to start out by saying that it's been pretty mundane here, but I'm sure I'll write a shit-load anyway. Just a disclaimer.

For those who don't know, I moved here, to Mexico, on the 5th of August for no real particular reason. I guess I was just going nowhere in Minnesota and the routine was starting to get old. Same shit different day, you know? Basically handed to me on a silver platter was an opportunity to move to Mexico, so I took it. The opportunity came with everything -- a place to live in limbo, a place to move into afterwards, and a list of available jobs from which I could choose. I couldn't exactly say no without feeling like an idiot. I'm learning Spanish ( slowly ), writing a book, and beginning to lose weight, which, for me, are all goals I'd like to achieve anyway, but here I'm encompassed by something entirely new. Everything is fresh and different and I'm a couple of thousands of miles away from everything that pissed me off. So... a lot of people have asked me why I did it, and I suppose that's why.

Right now I'm living with the Blanco family. A mother, a father, a son in his last year of high school, a daughter in her first year of college, and another three-year-old son. It's pretty well balanced. The family dynamic here is so vastly different from that in the U.S. that it's almost disorienting. I'm not using this particular family as a control group, either; every family I've encountered so far has been so wrapped up in the unity of their family that everything else seems to hardly matter. There does exist such families in the U.S., but for the most part, Americans place achieving the American dream a bit higher on their list of priorities. I'm being treated very kindly, and I've been offered a helping hand in getting whatever necessities I need while I'm here. I admit that's a bit easier for this family than for most, probably, since it's one of the wealthiest families in the city. The father here is the owner of Chihuahua's ( Chihuahua is a state, the capital of which is Chihuahua City. It's the largest state in Mexico. ) largest pizza chain, called Pizza Del Rey ( Pizza of the King ). It has an ambiance similar to that of a Pizza Hut-Buffalo Wild Wings hybrid, and the menu labels its items with names of royalty ( The Duke's Choice, for example ) with traditional Mexican toppings ( olives, jalapenos, chorizo, bacon, etc. ). The uncle is the Mayor of Chihuahua City. I've yet to meet him, but his face is all over the city on propoganda for the upcoming election. Needless to say, they're wealthy and respected, but they show no signs of arrogance. Well, I suppose the oldest son does, a bit. He's a handsome guy, his family is what it is, and girls are constantly chasing his shirt tail, so it's to be expected I guess. He's still nice though.

Maybe mullets are out of style in the U.S., but here they flourish and blossom with grace. And it's not only middle-aged country folk who don't give a shit, either. The trend-setting age sports them with as much dignity as with one who would drive a Rolls-Royce. I'm dying to get a picture of one, but I'm finding it difficult to muster up the courage to ask someone to turn around so I can take a photo of their mullet.

It's not only mullets, either; mustaches are bountiful in what seems to be their natural habitat. Just-barely pubescent boys to wrinkly ancients take the lip bush to a whole new level. I witnessed a couple in which the girl was fondly running her fingers through the boy's mustache, and I realized the amazing powers it holds here in Mexico. If only I could grow one.

And faux-hawks. They're not just for the homosexual or pseudo-European community† anymore. They're everywhere. Even coupled with a mullet and a mustache. It doesn't matter what kind of hair you have -- short, long, curly, straight, thin, thick -- a faux-hawk is simply no faux here in Mexico. In any case, it's good to know that I can sport these forbidden styles here and get away with it. And all you U.S.'ers back home can kiss it because I know I'm sexy.

In completely different news, I witnessed my first fight the other night. To begin with, the running for student council seems to be a lot more elaborate here than it is in the U.S. ( at least compared to my high school ). The schools divide themselves into two parties, each nominating an official to run for class president ( sound familiar? ). They are each given a day during which they are expected to throw the most incredible party they possibly can, the point of which apparently being to see who has the greater skills in organization. I saw the rehearsal for one, and it was pretty damned incredible. About a hundred students had spent the last couple of weeks in choreography classes to learn some dance. It began with two girls climbing to the ceiling to do whatever it's called that they do in the suspended hoops. Then the dance began, and it wasn't just some silly line dancing, it was good.

Anyway.. on the final day, the school gets together to party outside of school. The goal is to stay awake all night to watch the sunrise as a form of tradition that has apparently been kept for over 20 years. I went with Luis to partake in the high school festivities††, and the first thing we discovered was that the party was being broken up because the neighbor threatened to call the cops. So they all relocated ( "they all" being about 250 people ). The new location was good for about 15 minutes before red-and-blue started to flash and they all scattered like a crack house drug bust. The next location lasted for about 30 minutes, about ten of which I enjoyed because upon arrival, a mob was gathering around a fight. Well, for me it was just a mob because I had no idea what was going on when Luis hit the breaks, threw on the emergency break and bolted from the car to join in on the action. I wasn't aware that it was a fight until someone walked past the window with an eye gushing blood through his fingers. It was somewhat disturbing how excited everyone was over the fact that there was a fight. Numerous people approached me later that evening to tell me that it sucked for me that I didn't get there in time to see it. What I wanted to do was lecture them on the impropriety of glorifying violence ( especially among their friends ), but I need to build rapport and being an stiff isn't going to help. After all that went down and we spent some time where we were, we found some other place that remained calm an friendly for the rest of the evening/morning. I meant to watch the parade, but when we returned home for showers, I just passed out. I'm getting too old for all-nighters.

That's the latest here in Mexico. Sad, isn't it? An observation in fashion and a fist-fight. I haven't gotten out much, I admit. I spend a lot of time in the house studying Spanish in preparation for the time I'll be spending on my own. 'Til next time.

† Sorry for the generalization, but it's true, isn't it?
†† Don't judge me. I'm bored.