The Circle of Life

A lighter shade of brown in the barrio.

Dear Mexican,

It's hard out here for a brotha! First, we had to deal with those pieces of shit called the KKK and their supporters. Now we have to deal with the freakin' Mexican invasion. Now I see why whites fretted over seeing their neighborhoods turn dark when Cleophus and LaKeisha moved in. Now we're being overrun by Pedro and María and their carloads of kids and assorted la familia members. If you cruise the Dallas neighborhoods of Oak Cliff and South Dallas, you see greasy taco stands where there used to be greasy catfish or fried chicken places. We're being pushed to the suburbs, dude. We used to go to garage sales, but fat Mexican women are camping out overnight to get to them first—damn, they take garage sales seriously! Pretty soon, schools will change their names from Carver High to Cheech Marin High. Shit, I better learn Spanish el rapido. Can't your people let us keep some semblance of our hood?!

Chitlins Ain't Menudo

Dear Negrito,

Why should Mexicans deviate from history? The American ethnic experience hews to a rigid trajectory that goes like this: Immigrants settle in the bad part of town because gabachos won't tolerate minorities near their homes. Said immigrants revitalize undesirable neighborhoods. The barrio/ghetto/hood is born. It flourishes for a generation. Gabachos visit solely for hole-in-the-wall restaurants, prostitutes, drugs, gambling, and cockfights. The immigrants sweat through life in order to get their children into college, only to see the kids repudiate their wabby parents and move to the suburbs. A new wave of immigrants living eight to a couch settle in the old neighborhood. The remaining pioneer immigrants despise the newbies for replacing the businesses, languages, and culture of their once-familiar streets but can't stop the change. The old generation dies. The new immigrants prosper. And the circle of life begins again. You claim to understand this, Chitlins, so get over your lost catfish stands and join Cleophus and LaKeisha in scaring the gabachos out of the suburbs and back into their hipster downtowns. But don't get too settled: In a couple of years, Mexicans will relocate to your suburban hood to get away from the Guatemalans who are destroying our quaint barrios as we speak.

Why do Mexicans have so many babies?

One Ignorant Gabacho

Dear Gabacho,

The anthropological response? Poor people need large families in order to bring in more income. The theological answer? Mexicans don't believe in contraception because the Catholic Church considers it a sin. But there's a reason why the American media constantly cast Mexican actors as Latin lovers or spicy señoritas and give them 30 siblings, and it ain't the salsa. Ever had sexo with a Mexican? No prophylactic in the world can hold back Mexican spermatozoa during the act of coitus—those little hombres rip through your average condom like an Aztec tearing up a conquistador's sternum. As for oral contraceptives? I have many Mexican friends who were born while their mamis were on the pill. The gun-toting doofuses of the Border Patrol can't hold us back from starting a new life—what makes you think a puny pill can?

Got a spicy question? Then ask the Mexican at garellano@seattleweekly.com. Include a hilarious pseudonym, por favor, or we'll make one up for you! También, a glossary deciphering some of the Mexican's more popular catchphrases can be found at www.seattleweekly.com.

 
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