Halloween

Since trick-or-treating is a little more difficult here, I just counted Saturday's Trunk-or-Treat as our Halloween celebration for the year.  The kids did dress up today for school and had their parties there and that totally counts. My  modus operandi  is generally to do the least possible work to get the job done.  Since JR is in Dubai I just didn't have the energy to go it alone looking for every 10th house that was participating in Halloween.  (If you are ever trick-or-treating in Mexico you should know to say "Queremos Halloween" instead of "trick-or-treat" when the door is opened. It always makes me laugh.)
Instead, I took the kids out to dinner for caldo and tacos.  They were happy to go because the place we went had a play place.  That is pretty much the only requirement for them.

This is a picture of our costumes from the Trunk-or-Treat.  JR and I have worn the same Walmart costumes for three years. I plan to get new costumes next year when they show up at Walmart in some random month no where close to October.

The Great Debate

My husband (JR) and I have an ongoing debate about whether or not I can say I'm Mexican-American (I sure did on my college applications). Here is the evidence to support my claim:

• My last name is Chavez
• My paternal grandparent's last names were Ruiz and Chavez and they spoke Spanish in their home
• We eat beans, green chili, tamales and tortillas at all Chavez family gatherings
• My dad totally looks like half of the people in Mexico City

JR says that I'm as much Mexican as he is German. His last name is German. But whatever. It's not like his grandparents spoke German in their home or like they eat bratwurst and sauerkraut at their family gatherings. His Dad may or may not look like half of the people in Berlin.

And while I didn't grow up speaking Spanish in my home, the ancestral forces have pulled me back to the motherland and taught me her language. I am so Mexican. The evidence continues to grow in my favor.

For one thing, I love living in Mexico (apart from the traffic). It was easy for me to feel comfortable here because I see the people here as my people, even if it makes JR laugh at me to say such a thing.

My children aren't really sure what they are. They were born in El Salvador, lived in Mexico for as long as they can remember, but they know that somehow they are linked to the United States even if only by their language and passport.

The longer I live outside of the US and the more I observe how my children's national identities are formed, I realize more and more how nationality is such an invented concept. I suppose on the one hand having pride in one's country can be positive to help pull a people together for a common purpose. But on the other hand in order for a group to pull together they are by definition excluding others. And while I feel such a sense of pride in my Mexican heritage, I am glad that my children, one of whom really is Mexican since she was born here, will have an understanding of the man-made and artificial nature of borders and nationality. Hopefully, the experience of living abroad will help them to grow up having respect and compassion for those from foreign borders while still maintaining pride in their family history. Kind of like me. I accept and even respect JR even though he is not a part of La Raza.

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