I've found my home

a little bit of politics

Paris Hilton.

Paris Hilton is a goddess.

Yes, I realise that is a sentence that: (1) I never thought I would ever write and (b) You thought you'd never read on this blog. But there is a reason for this.

There is a presidential election happening in the US, you might have heard. We might also have heard about one of the candidates, Barack Obama. You might not have heard about the other candidate, John McCain. If you haven't heard about Mr. McCain this might be because he's not sexy, not interesting, not...well, to be honest, he's not anything to an outsider. Mr. McCain has taken exception to the media's love of Mr. Obama and spent the last two weeks complainig to the press contingent that covers his every move (both of them).

He has also released several adverts attacking his opponent. The main plank of his attack is that Mr. Obama is a vaccuous celebrity, a man of no substance - basically Barack Obama might as well be Paris Hilton. Oh, how the world laughed at his wit, his satire, his sense of finger on the pulse-ed-ness. Except, of course, Miss Hilton didn't. She retaliated. And, it behoves me to say, she retaliated with a certain amount of style.

Watch this reply and gain a new found respect for Miss Hilton. The woman is a genius, or at least, she has some very clever writers/advisors.

not got time to post

Wanted to do a long post about politics. A long boring post about how I have suddenly become totally entrapped with American politics. How I love Obama. How I hate Hilary. How I suddenly believe in the power of politicians again. But I haven't got enough time.

I can say that she told her to try typing wanker into imbd and then looking at the first result.

Made me laugh.

eyes wide shut

It's been an odd couple of days. We've spent a lot of time talking about racism, about Mexico, about Mexicans. Read this.

I love Mexico, I love Mexicans, I love the life I live. But, like some demented princess from a Disney film, it appears that I might be wandering through this life with a false perception. The ground is covered with rose petals, the birds are singing in the trees and everything is wonderful because I'm a fairy princess (this is an analogy - I'm not really a fairy princess and if I were, I would not choosing this moment to come out). Does this mean that everything I've said, written, about Mexico is a lie? Does this mean that when you turn up here you will discover a totally different world to the one I have described? Well, no, not really, because you're foreign, too. You're different, and will be treated differently to a Mexican. This idyllic world I have described is freely available to you, no extra charge, just make sure that you look foreign, speak foreign, act foreign. Life is grand.

Of course, the flipside is that I will never know the real Mexico because everyone treats me differently. But (except for two incidents, one in a bar and the other on the street) I have always been treated well.

We have a favourite restaurant, La Mandolino, I've mentioned it a couple of times on here, I rave about it constantly. Friends, inspired by my enthusiasm, have gone to the place and when questioned, after their visit, have been a little non-committal. Up until now we haven't really questioned their reasons but, in the light of what we have discovered in the last couple of days, we have started to pursue this. It appears that the reason they don't like the place is that the service is crap. They are ignored, orders aren't taken, food doesn't turn up, glasses go empty, finished plates remain on the table. This isn't the restaurant we eat in. We are met at the door, welcomed in, drinks are produced as we sit down (they remember our preferences), an ashtray appears, a basket of bread (that is changed often because the bread has cooled). They have started replacing our cutlery once we have eaten a course. When we finish eating we are left alone to drink and talk, we are never hurried out the door. A week ago we visited a bar and last Thursday we entered the bar again - now, this is The Tijuana Bar, the bar connected to the town's brewery. It copes with over a thousand people a week? As you sit in the bar you can see groups of visitors going round the brewery and then they enter the bar to sample the wares. It is busy, busy, busy. On Thursday, by the time we had sat down a diet coke was placed in front of Maria, an ice cold glass of beer in front of me, and we were informed that the guacamole was on its way. A week after our previous visit! They remembered us. True, I might have over-tipped the previous time but, even so, they remembered us. Or at least, as I am learning, they remembered me.

But what to do? Does this mean that I am going to live the rest of my life being treated as though I was special (and I don't mean special in that way that teachers talk about pupils as special)? Well, there is little I can do about it. And how do I feel about it all? Sad. It's not right. I am not better than anyone, I'm not special. I think that my friends are better than I, I think that Mexicans are much nicer people (as a race) than the English - I'm not damning a whole country there. But then, I have to pause, and wonder if my opinion is tainted because of the way I'm treated? There is no norm for me. I don't know what is the norm and that makes me a bit sad. I've also been frighteningly naive and probably unconsciously racist. As my awareness of the latent racism that exists in this country has been raised, I have realised that I have been incredibly unaware of my own racism - racism by omission. I have been guilty of "they all look the same". After a very long conversation on Thursday night, I spent a lot of Friday looking carefully at the children I teach. Children who I had (in my mind) labelled as "white" were, in fact, not. Children who I had classified as "not particularly Mexican looking" were suddenly Mexican. And, the most upsetting thing, suddenly I could see that the children, and I hope sub-consciously, divided themselves into groups on the playground. The whiter children stuck together, the more Indian looking children were apart. In the classroom there is a noticeable under-current, a different sense of confidence and superiority between the different children. And I hadn't noticed. It makes me feel sad. Sad that this exists, sad that it has taken me so long to really notice.

Will it change me? Yes, obviously. I hope it will change me for the better but, I fear that it will change me because some of the shine has been knocked off - the rose-tinted glasses are a lot clearer now. Can I change it? No, sadly. I will be a lot more careful in what I say, how I act in class, how I interact with the children. But there is little I can do to change something that every Mexican is born with and every Mexican lives their lives with.

As a wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve liberal I've spent a lot of time bemoaning the fact that I am treated differently, that I have no chance to know what it is like to be a real Mexican. In three years time, when I can apply for a Mexican passport, I will still be foreign. I will still be treated as "special". There is no escape, nothing I can do to change the bubble I live in.

Well, there is one way. Efraín has recommended a restaurant for me to visit. He tells me that the waiters will be rude, the service will be awful, the food will be cold, my order will be taken incorrectly and I will be treated badly. It is a restaurant in which I will feel like a Mexican! It's a French restaurant.

[Footnote: In a discussion, with La Directore about her project, when asked to name some of the "qualities I possess" she said the following:
One of your qualities is that you are English, whereas, one of my limitations is that I am Mexican.
Which, in retrospect, probably sums up this whole discussion in one phrase.]

yes we can

I wear my politics and my beliefs on my sleeve. I am a yoghurt-eating-sandal-wearing-weak-livered-grauniad-reading-liberal. Oh yes I am. And I'm proud about it...but not proud enough to argue about it because if you have a different opinion then I agree with your opinion and you are probably right - or at least I will die in defending your right to say that I'm wrong. If that's alright with you.

Had a bit of a mishap at school this week. I had asked the children to write about a person they admire. Not just write about the person but why they admire them. Really admire them. Tell me about the person, convince me that they are worthy of my admiration. And, bless their little cotton socks, some of them came through with some great arguments. I found myself interested in a cast member of High School The Musical, agreeing that Bono wasn't really conceited, and realising that Shakira was an honest citizen (her hips don't lie). And then, in amongst the Mozarts, the Da Vincis, the J.K Rowlings, I was presented with an Adolf Hitler. At first my liberal tendencies went with a "let it go", this was a writing exercise, the student is allowed to have his own opinion - hell, the argument might have been that Hitler was funnier than Chaplin, in which case I would have been sold. But the argument went:

"I know Hitler killed the jewish, the blacks, the homosexuals and he was a very bad man but I'm sure he did something good - so I admire him."

Not really the best argument to present.

Next Monday the Sixth Grade is presenting the school assembly. We will be doing a short recap of the life of César Estrada Chávez - the man who took as his slogan "Si se puede", "Yes we can". To finish the assembly off we will also perform a song by Will.I.Am (your name is William and you're a dick!). Fortunately it is not a Black Eyed Peas song (anyone for "My Humps"?) but is instead a speech by Barack Obama put to music.

I realise that I shouldn't put my politics directly in your face - because I'm a liberal - but this is beautiful.

Shame the Sixth Grade will murder it. Ah well, I've got a week to do it justice.

Oh, and the Hitler supporter? He'll have a leading role in the story of Chávez - gotta lurve your non-violent activists!

where's hank?

In the previous post I happened to mention that Hank  had gone missing - he wasn't around to concede defeat and he hasn't been found all day to make a comment. I've just found out why.

1) Hank was giving out school supplies earlier this week. This wasn't just a photo opportunity, there was also another political motivation behind it. In Mexico all the children have to provide their own books and supplies. They also have to provide the teacher's teaching supplies as well. Hank (bless his cotton socks) went out and about giving out piles of school supplies - pens, pencils, paper, tape, ballot paper, glue, colours, books, rulers and erasers. Did you see what I did there? I slipped in the words "ballot paper" just like Hank slipped in a ballot paper. The parents were given a pile of school equipment and an already completed ballot paper that they were asked to drop in the ballot box.

2) One thousand two hundred Mexican pesos - fifty four Great British Pounds sterling - one hundred and ten United States Dollars - was the cost of one vote yesterday. Yesterday the police arrested several people for trying to vote twice - it appears that you can try to scrub very, very hard but it doesn't always work. The reason these people were voting twice was because they needed the money. Having already been paid once (the going rate was 1200 pesos) they were trying to secure another pay-off. All of the people arrested were voting for Hank.

3) You know I mentioned the transparent ballot boxes? A raid, by the police, discovered several hundred ballot boxes that were stored in the delivery warehouse. These were to be delivered with the ballot boxes that had been out on the streets. Each box was full of ballots, each ballot had a big X next to one name - can you guess whose name it was?

The police want to question Hank about these incidents*. Hank, it appears, doesn't want to be questioned.

*There might be others but your fearless investigative journalist [that's me] isn't that fearless and at the moment I am quiet happy to report what I've been told from first/second/third parties in the comfort of Maria's office. I am not going out on to the mean streets of Tijuana to discover other info.

the results are in

Sunday morning we get up, get dressed and go to vote - I say we go to vote but I mean she goes to vote. No matter what happens in the future I will never be allowed to vote in a Mexican election - dems da rules.

The first shock of the morning was that the polling booth wasn't where it was supposed to be. A sign in the window informed us that it had moved - the corner it was to be placed on was too busy, therefore it would be better in the middle of a road. Unfortunately the map, showing where the polling station now could be found, was installed upside down - which made it a bit more confusing.

The polling booth wasn't inside a building, it was a couple of gazebos placed in the middle of the road with a table on the pavement. Maria had to show her electoral card (a form of identification card) and was then given her papers to vote. These she took into the polling booth.

The good news, for those of you who still have nightmares about "hanging chads", is that Mexico uses the same method as the UK - a big crayola tied to a piece of string. A big X marks the spot makes it obvious who you have voted for. The forms are then placed in the ballot boxes. I am fairly used to huge, black, metal boxes with tape all over them and padlocks securing them. Therefore I was fairly surprised to discover that the ballot boxes are actually made of thick cardboard with "see through" panels in them.

There is a reason for this - a fairly good reason! It appears that for many years the ballot boxes were big black metal boxes that were taped and sealed shut with big padlocks. However it also appears that these ballot boxes would arrive at the polling stations already full of ballot papers. Once an independent organisation* took control of the elections and the voting practices, the first thing they did was install transparent ballot boxes so that people could see that they were not already full.

Once you have voted they stamp your thumb with an indelible dye. This dye takes over 24 hours to remove from your thumb - no matter how much you scrub and scrub (although I'm sure that if you really want to give it a go you can probably remove it). The idea is that you cannot return and vote again.

So you probably want to know how the election went? Fairly well if you were supporting the PAN party - the whole state went "blue". In fact it was such a sweeping drive that Hank (you remember Hank?) did something unheard of in Mexican politics. In Mexican politics it is very rare for the winner to declare himself "the winner", it normally falls upon the loser to concede and then congratulate his opponent. This did not happen. Hank has gone missing. So it was left to Osuna Millán to declare himself the victor. As for Hank? Well, one has to assume that his political career is over. He made a gamble and lost big stylee.

Although we aren't that sorry in this house :^).

*The independent organisation "bussed in" over 2000 teachers from neighbouring states to oversee the activities at each polling booth. The one I met where Maria was voting was very nice. We chatted for a bit about the differences in voting procedures and how I felt about the "whole thing" here in Mexico. However it appears that he was one of the "nice ones". On the morning of the elections the police raided the rooms of several teachers and discovered that they had come armed with baseball bats, knives and (in one case) a gun. Sixty teachers were arrested with "intent to do damage". Oddly enough it had nothing to do with the election. At the moment some teacher's unions are on strike, the ones in Tijuana aren't. Those teachers who came "ready to rumble" decided that the Tijuana teachers needed to be taught a lesson.

here they do it on a sunday

In the UK they do it on a Thursday.

In the USA they do it on a Tuesday.

In Mexico they do it on a Sunday.

Vote that is.

All that wondering (on my behalf) about whether Hank will become da man! will come to a conclusion. At the moment, according to the latest polls, it looks like he will lose - in other words his run to be President of Mexico will fall at the second hurdle. In some ways (weird, weird ways) this might be seen as a disappointment. With Hank in charge of Baja California (and of course there is always the Governator across the border - how much fun would that be?), desperate to make a good impression so that he can run for President - there is a chance that everything will run correctly, everything will be well. He'll just start to fuck it up when he gets the job he is after!

Of course, the flip side is that if Osuna Millán wins then everything will be well because...well, he's a nice man! But is he the man who can keep all the other (allegedly) naughty people in line? Who knows.

And at this point I would say - YOU DECIDE!!! Except you can't. Of all my readers (both of you) only one of you will be voting on Sunday. The rest of you will just have to wait and wonder.

it's quiet, too damn quiet

Three weeks ago, sat on the balcony, Maria suddenly mentions that it is quiet, and it is. Normally the night is punctuated by car alarms, police car sirens, revving car engines and (to my elder brother's delight) the sound of gunfire. Even the karaoke nights held in the "Chinese block" across the street seem to have disappeared.

Two weeks ago, sat on the balcony, Maria mentions that she had driven past the local "drug baron's" house. All the guards outside had gone. The cars that used to block the gate had gone. The guys taking pictures and recording every vehicle that passes by had gone.

One week ago, driving in the car, we come across a police convoy and we are surprised. Surprised because it seems ages since the last time we came across a squad of "the black force" charging through the streets on their way to kick some ass!

I have a theory! More to the point, I have a name Jorge Hank Rhon, just Hank as he is know as here in Tijuana.

Hank is a legend. Hank is mayor (or municipal President if you want his formal title - you can just call him "Presidente Hank" if you want) of Tijuana. He won the election for Presidente in 2004 and, as eny fule nose, that means he is Presidente until 2010! Yay Hank!! In passing, before I get to the actual "meat" of this post, here is a quick bit of info about Hank that you can mull over:

Jorge Hank is also known as an animal lover, and trader. However, his purported love for animals has been fouled by reports that many of his animals are the result of smuggling. Jorge Hank says his favorite animal is women. In 1991, he was directly linked to a failed illicit deal for an endangered gorilla, but was never formally charged. His most famous customs run-in came in 1995, when he was caught carrying a suitcase full of ivory tusks, pearl vests and coats made from the skins of endangered ocelots, but Mr. Hank claimed that no law had been broken and the merchandise was legal. He was later acquitted.

On the 5th of August 2007, elections will be held to vote for the new Governor of Baja California. This, of course, is the last step before you run for President of Mexico. Damn! What a shame for Hank because if he could become Governor then he could use that as a stepping stone to becoming President! But he his hooked into his job of being Presidente for the next 3 years. Worse, there is the "anti-grasshopper" law here in Mexico that forbids anyone running for office when he is still in office! So Hank has to finish his run as Presidente, that's three years, and then he can't run for Governor until 2013.

OK, sidebar here - for those of you still following this. There are three main political parties, at the moment, here in Mexico, PAN, PRD and PRI. But this hasn't always been the way. The PRI were in charge from 1930-2000. 70 years running a country. Now, it is not my place as a foreigner (nor as a a person fully cognisant with Mexican politics) to make wild and crazy assumptions about the PRI but, as a blogger, I can say - they were corrupt. Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.  There are many, many stories about vote rigging, people dying, money disappearing, laws changing but, as a simple analogy, let's go with: the PRI is a bit like the National Socialist Party in Germany 1933 (please note: I am comparing political methods, not the end results). The PRI honestly believe they have a divine right to rule (Thousand Year Reich anyone?). Laws are for other people. Example: In the last election, when beaten into third place, the PRI candidate refused to accept the result and still set up a government! Oh, did I mention? Hank is a member of the PRI.

Back on track - Four weeks ago Tijuana was suddenly flooded with "H7" stickers, posters, graffiti. H7? This was subversive, subliminal advertising at its best. Within days every knew "H7" but no-one knew what the hell it was? A new pop group? A new drink? A new clothes line? It had to be something exciting because all the cool people were doing it. Hell, there were even kids in my school writing it on blackboards, on their books. "H7" was the new catchphrase. No-one knew what it meant but everyone pretended they did. Ask people what it meant and they would nod, knowingly, tap the side of their nose and smile secretly at you. All people really knew, according to underground gossip, was that if you put an "H7" sticker on your car it wouldn't get vandalised or stolen, if you had a poster in your window your house wouldn't get burgled, if you wore a badge then you could walk the streets safely. "H7" was a secret sign to all the "baddies" out there - "H7" would protect you. "H7" made people feel good. And it worked! Crime plummeted overnight. Tijuana was suddenly one of the safest cities in the world - just like that - out the top five with a bullet!

Have you worked it out yet? Just one other piece of information I should mention. In Mexico people are not allowed to "run" for any elective office until one month before the elections. The elections are on 5th August. No propaganda until 5th July. "H7" started appearing round about the 5th of June.

"H7" means "Hank 07".

Jorge Hank Rhon, Presidente de Tijuana, is running for Governor of Baja California (check this out). But Will, I hear you ask, shirley it is illegal? What with the whole being Presidente and the anti-grasshopper law, never mind the totally illegal "H7" campaign. Errrrm, yes! And in fact the the state election court rejected his candidacy, Hank appealed, he was forbidden to campaign while his appeal was heard. But the people love "H7" nothing could stop the people. Through the last three weeks Hank has sat back and let the people talk. And the voice of the people has been heard - Hank will run for Governor in '07.

Now, far be it from me to link a couple of unrelated events but....has anyone else noted that crime is taking time off in Tijuana? And while crime takes time off, it all makes the Presidente of Tijuana look so much better. And doesn't anyone remember the whole "lack of vandalism" if you sported an "H7" sticker? Is it just me or does there seem to be some connection between Hank and crime? Ooops, maybe I shouldn't make such comments because:

Hank was linked by the media with various drug lords and money-laundering after the leak of National Drug Intelligence Center-drafted documents. However, the United States Attorney General at the time Janet Reno discredited such report  and apologized to the Hank family.

And if Hank is clean enough for Ms. Reno then he's clean enough for me!

Now, don't get me started on the PRI's candidate for Presidente de Tijuana - just accept the fact that his candidacy has been thrown out by a court of law (mainly due to the fact that he isn't Mexican!!???!!) - and how it shows a total disregard for the voting populace and an arrogance that is staggering. Don't get me started because....because I am sat on my balcony, enjoying the peace and quiet, hoping it will last.