El Fomentador

Hola Amigos, El Fomentador wants to thank-you all for your visits to the blog, muchas gracias. It is that time of year when el Fomentador hits the road–the road north. Three days in el autobus from central Mexico to Canada sounds like a horror story in itself. But I have gotten pretty good at riding buses. And the system in Mexico is actually better than in the states. There are generally two drivers, the bus is filled with Mexican families from little kids to grandparents, they show movies on the trip, and everyone is friendly and willing to put up with my poor Spanish; it’s good practice for me and I have met some amazing people. Of course they are all heading to the US to work or visit family. As an example, last year I rode next to a young Mexican guy on his way to North Dakota. He was a good example of the changing demographics of our countries–a Mexican guy working in a Chinese restaurant in North Dakota! Somewhere I am sure there is a Chinese guy working in a Mexican restaurant in Michigan. i like to say: Only in America!

The real adventure starts once I hit the Greyhound line. In my experience, the closer you get to the midwest the more weirdos there are on the bus. Usually drunks, vagabonds, convicts, tattooed ladies and people with multiple facial piercings. Also lots of Amish this time of year (if our fellow passengers freak me out, I can’t imagine what they think about the bozos on the bus). But people need to travel and I think the bus is a good alternative–I’ll let you know what i think in a few days. I am including this under Pride and Prejudice because you can really learn a lot about what people think while spending a few days with them trapped in a bus in the interstate.

Take good care and God save the Queen.

Hi. Welcome to the first installment of the Book Nook. (Ok, I know the “Book Nook” is kind of a lame name–hey! that rhymes too–I just wanted someplace to write about books. I am willing to change it if somone comes up with a better name.) I just finished re-reading “The Pearl”, a short novel or a long short-story by John Steinbeck. Of course, Steinbeck is known as a great American author. One of my favorite books is his novel about the westward migration of Americans from the mid-west dust bowl of the 1930’s to California, “The Grapes of Wrath”. The Grapes of Wrath will be a future topic in the Book Nook. I recently saw the movie version dubbed into Spanish and it was just as moving and inspiring as any of the dozen times I’ve watched it in English; maybe even more so, as I recognized parallels between the “Okies” and the current wave of Mexican immigrants. More on that later, now on to “The Pearl”.

I’m tempted to do a book report type post, but I am just going to use a few excerpts from the story to look at some enduring concepts that Steinbeck translates into wonderfully meaningful prose. The premise of the story is that “Kino”, a poor pearl diver finds a valuable pearl one day. The story follows the trail of events precipitated by his discovery of the pearl and the changes that occur in him, his family and his village because of it.

In the following passage the villagers are crowding around the door of Kino’s brush hut wondering what he will do with his sudden good fortune. Coyotito is the infant son of Kino and his wife Juana. “In the pearl he saw Coyotito sitting at a little desk in a school, just as Kino had once seen through an open door. And Coyotito was dressed in a jacket, and he had on a white collar and a broad silken tie. Moreover Coyotito was writing on a big piece of paper. Kino looked at his neighbors fiercely. ‘My son will go to school,’ he said, and the neighbors were hushed. Juana caught her breath sharply. Her eyes were bright as she watched him, and she looked quickly down at Coyotito in her arms to see whether this might be possible.

“But Kino’s face shown with prophecy. ‘My son will read and open the books, and my son will write and will know writing. And my son will know numbers, and these things will make us free–he will know and through him we will know.’ And in the pearl Kino saw himself and Juana squatting by the little fire in the brush hut while Coyotito read from a great book. ‘This is what the pearl will do,’ said Kino. And he had never said so many words together in his life. And suddenly he was afraid of his talking. His hand closed down over the pearl and cut the light away from it. Kino was afraid as a man is afraid who says ‘I will,’ without knowing.”

Powerful words from a simple man; a simple man wishing for his son the most powerful gift he could give him–literacy. Kino knew that books are a tool used by the literate to help make sense of the world and to pass on the collective knowledge. He also knew that men use the ideas in the books to control others that can’t decipher the written words in the books. He suspected that men lie about what is in the books and use those lies to their advantage. Kino was a simple man but he recognized that education could mean liberation for his son and for the people in his village.

In this next passage the village priest pays a visit to the hut. The church is portrayed as wanting its due. The priest is pictured as kindly but not completely trusted. “The priest came in–a graying, aging man with an old skin and a young sharp eye. Children, he considered these people, and he treated them like children. ‘Kino,’ he said softly, ‘thou art named after a great man–and a great Father of the Church.’ He made it sound like a benediction. ‘Thy namesake tamed the desert and sweetened the minds of thy people, didst thou know that? It is in the books.’ Kino looked quickly down at Coyotito’s head, where he hung on Juana’s hip. Some day, his mind said, that boy would know what things were in the books and what things were not.”

Again we see the importance given to literacy. The idea that “someday…that boy would know” shows that Kino looked to the future for his son, was depending on the future to give his son the power and knowledge of those that read.

In the story Coyotito is stung by a scorpion. Although they take the baby to the village doctor, the doctor refuses to see the child because he believes the parents can’t pay. Of course once the doctor heard about the pearl he appeared that night at Kino’s door. “Kino stood in the door, filling it, and hatred raged and flamed in back of his eyes, and fear, too, for the hundreds of years of subjugation were cut deep in him. ‘The baby is nearly well now,’ he said curtly. [The doctor] said, ‘Sometimes, my friend, the scorpion sting has a curious effect. There will be apparent improvement, and then without warning–pouf!’ ‘Sometimes’, the doctor went on in a liquid tone, ’sometimes there will be a withered leg or a blind eye or a crumpled back. Oh, I know the sting of the scorpion, my friend and I can cure it.’ Kino felt the rage and hatred melting toward fear. He did not know, and perhaps this doctor did. And he could not take the chance of pitting his certain ignorance against this man’s possible knowledge. He was trapped as his people were always trapped, and would be until, as he had said, they could be sure that the things in the books were really in the books. He could not take a chance–not with the life or the straightness of Coyotito. He stood aside and let the doctor…enter the brush hut.”

Steinbeck shares a timeless truth, the ignorant are often subjugated by the educated. He knew in his heart that the doctor was only there because of greed. Kino felt that the baby would recover, but “he did not know” and “he could not take the chance….” He was suffering the powerlessness of illiteracy.

The final excerpt I would like to share comes that night as Kino slept a fearful, fitful sleep. “But Kino’s brain burned, even during his sleep, and he dreamed that Coyotito could read, that one of his own people could tell him the truth of things. And in his dream, Coyotito was reading from a book as big as a house, with letters as big as dogs, and the words galloped and played on the book. And then darkness spread over the page, and with the darkness came the music of evil again, and Kino stirred in his sleep….”

I have to recommend this story, and to those of us fortunate enough to be able to read I recommend that we consider the plight of those that can’t. And to those that hold back the gift of literacy from others I suggest that your own ignorance, fear and greed will not hold back the future of the people forever. When anyone is held captive by ignorance we are all made less whole as a race. (Notice that I haven’t made one direct reference to the elitists in Mexico that have decided an undereducated populace is easier to control, oops, so much for that. I’d like to add a comment here that according to the statistics that I have seen, sixty years ago the illiteracy rate in my city here in Mexico was 80%! That would have meant that my parents would not have been able to read and write! Frankly, based on the education available here now I doubt that the effective rate is much better. It is why, when you talk to Mexican immigrants in the US, they all say they are there to provide a better future for their children, a future they would not be allowed to achieve in Mexico.) Finally, I want to use a short quote from an Anton Chekov short story, which will also be featured in a future installment of the Book Nook. The author is talking about the lip service that the Russian (but it could refer just as easily to Mexican politicos) bureaucrats gave to education: “Education is necessary, but the masses aren’t ready for it.” Well, I think the time is now.

This outfit has all of the markings of the classic franchise patito. Stuck into an, otherwise empty, ugly concrete and plate glass, two-story office building off a busy, cluttered street on the edge of one of the growing manufacturing cities along the industrial corridor of the Mexican Bajio it is the epitome of the penchant of the patitos for merging incompetent English instruction with shamelessly predatory business practices.

So, of course, I went there to talk to them about working. I should add that this was nearly two years ago when I was still, as a German friend here says, an “innocent American.” At the time all I really wanted was access to an office and a classroom. I wanted to teach advanced courses in writing and speaking in English. “BUM”ingham already has it’s own “system”. The material (supplied by the franchise seller) is incredibly poor, even by the low standards of the “edu-business”. Of course, all new, bad material is required at each new “level” and is outrageously over-priced.

The “principal” offered me a job that morning, at $30 pesos an hour, (less than three dollars). I guess I couldn’t help but chuckle, and he said, right away, ok, $50 pesos per hour (less than five dollars). I started to say, well, that’s not really what I want to do…and he interrupted me to say, “It’s not much money, but you don’t have to do anything. I asked what he meant and he said the students just write in their workbooks (mostly those inane fill-in-the-blank exercises; I’ll be honest, I have trouble knowing what answer they want sometimes!) and the teacher is only there to answer questions (I’m assuming they would answer the questions in Spanish because, true-to-form, no one there spoke English, not the receptionist, not the owner, the principal (just barely), and certainly not the students.

Needless to say, I left and quietly crossed “BUM”ingham off of my list. Surprisingly, they called me back and said they were interested in using my program as part of a proposal they were making to a big, giant multi-national for English training for their Mexican managers. The company had issued a call for proposals, more than two-dozen schools submitted bids. Those types of decisions are not made at a local level, so all of the bids were sent to headquarters in Mexico City and, guess what: they went with the lowest bid.

When I talked to the “BUM”ingham owner over the next two weeks he kept whining, saying things like, “oh, the economy’s not too good, the company’s not making any money”. I said, you know, if the company wasn’t making money they would be building their product in China. This particular company sells a lot of it’s product in Mexico, but they sell more than four times as much in the US. It was then that I realized that the big multi-nationals are here for some of the same reasons the baby-boomers are heading to San Miguel: cheap labor, lax regulation and proximity to the US. (In case of some calamity, you can be home in few hours, even if you have to sneak across the Rio Bravo.)

In my opinion, the manufacturer’s decision to go for the lowest bid is their business, but it sheds light on something a little deeper. Although I know many Mexicans working in important jobs for foreign companies, if the company needs a high level executive or manager they go back home and bring them here (often with a huge salary bonus for having to relocate). Again, in my opinion, many of the companies don’t value their Mexican employees to the same level as their own nationals. It is understandable, to the big corporations Mexico is the third world. I shared this opinion with a peace corp volunteer that was studying Spanish at a little local patito. He said that GE sends some of their workers to the school and even pays their hourly salary while they are there, so, they must care about their workers. I can see why he might think that, but I felt I still had to counter by saying, yes, I’m sure GE cares about their employees that is why they spared no expense by contracting with one of the leading educational institutions in Mexico: The “OLE” School of English. For you Scandinavians out there, that’s “oLE”, accented on the second syllable, (you know, like the bullfighters say it, clever huh?), not the “Ole” School of English, although I suspect “Ole and Lena” could probably do a better job of teaching English than the long-suffering teachers at this patito. Another place well-known for deceptive practices and teacher abuse. Yes, I have some stories about that joint, too. I’ll end this for now by sharing a quote I read the other day from a public school teacher working in rural Mexico: “I have heard many teachers say that if I am only paid half of what I should earn, I will only do half a job.” Ouch! Maybe they meant to say a “half-assed job”.

Do you want to have a little fun with this whole “global” economy thing? I suggest taking a walk up and down the aisles at “Waldo’s Dollar Mart”, (available in selected Mexican cities.) Just try not to go there on Friday night or Saturday afternoon, the place is always packed on the weekends. It is really a “13 pesos” store. Everything in the place is 13 pesos, actually a little more than a dollar right now (and when I think about it, that is probably a result of the global economy too!)

If you don’t have a Waldo’s in you city, don’t worry, I’ll be bringing you the details of just what kind of products they have there. And believe me, they have stuff from the four corners of the globe, even though, technically, the globe is rounded. And we’ll look at what 13 pesos will and will not buy today. (In other words, just how much cheap labor, producing cheap products, does this weary old world really need to keep spinnin’ ’round?

One example that I find particularly interesting is canned cream-style corn imported from China. It kind of reminds me of the old joke about selling refrigerators to Eskimos. In case you are wondering, no, I have never eaten cream-style corn from China–my doctor said I should cut back on my lead intake.

If you have been to a Waldo’s Mart share your favorite Waldo’s story.

Santisima Muerte, Holy Death, Batman!

Ok, you are in Waldos, you have to pick-up a few items, you don’t have much time; just remember to grab a veladora (a candle) with Santisima Muerte (Holy Death) on it. This popular “Saint” is not recognized by the Catholic Church, which condemns it as Devil worship. The image has been adopted as the saint of many organized crime groups in Mexico, and as Forrest Gump would say, “…and that’s all I have to say about that.”

Waldos has candles with all of the regular Saints. They accept prayers for health, wealth, happiness, family, love, success, safety; you know, all of the things humans have been sniveling about forever. The idea that all of those blessings can be conjured up from a religious icon explains a lot about human history–that doesn’t necessarily excuse it but it helps explain it.

So I have a Saint Micheal (San Miguel) candle and one of the Virgen Guadalupe, always popular here in Mexico. Each of the candles comes in a tall glass holder and has a self-adhesive plastic sleeve wrapped around the glass. The plastic sleeve is printed with a picture of the particular Saint, and has a prayer designed to invoke the favor of the Saint. The prayers are provided in both Spanish and English. The popularity of the Saints has moved north along with migrants from Latin America.

When I saw the Muerte candle and read the prayer, I had to buy one–I’ll be honest though, I’m hesitant to light it. Even though I don’t believe in it, really, the words of the prayer seem kind of scary, very old Testament, or Islamic, or Voo-Doo! Let’s take a look at the prayer, first in Spanish and then in an English translation:

Oracion a la Santisima Muerte

Santa Muerte vence a (nombre), que este vencido conmigo en el nombre del Senor, hazlo manso como, un cordero, manso como las flor de romero, por la palabras mas fuerte que mi diste, quiero que me traigas a (nombre), que este humillado, que se acuerde de mi y todo lo que tenga me lo de impulsado por tus poderes. That doesn’t sound so bad, if you don’t speak Spanish, kind of like when they used to do the Mass in Latin, lots of interesting words, and when it is read by a good speaker it seems somehow appropriate. Sort of like any religious mumbo-jumbo.

Here is the English version, remember this icon is not recognized as a Saint by the church, but may represent a blending of ancient religious beliefs in Mexico with the, relatively, recently introduced, (400 years), Catholic faith.

Prayer to Holy Death

Saintly Death, conquer (name), so that he is conquered before me in the name of the Lord, make him meek as a lamb, gentle as the rosemary flower, by the strongest word you have given me, I want you to bring me (name), humbled at my feet to fulfill the promise given, that he may remember me and give me everything he has by the strength of your powers.

Whew! Notice they don’t include an “Amen”, I’ll do that: AMEN, brother. I could have used a prayer like that in High School–then Mr. Olsen would have been sorry he gave me a “D” on the cribbage board I made in wood shop. But really this sounds too powerful for poor old Mr. Olsen–besides he was driving a Rambler Marlin at the time, I’m not sure I would have wanted to take everything he had. And to be honest, my cribbage board was pretty bad, but it was functional.

Maybe I would be willing to try it out on Dick Cheney, but I just have a hard time imagining Dickey-boy being humbled before anyone–who knows, maybe Cheney has been praying to Holy Death for the last eight years! This is a little bit off the topic but one of my favorite political quotes comes from the late US President Lyndon Johnson who said, “Never tell a feller to “go to Hell”, unless you’re prepared to send him there.” As I said it all seems very “old testament” to me, you know the whole “vengeful God thing”. But I think if you throw in a cup of chicken blood, a pin cushion doll, and some fortune-telling bones it quickly becomes hoo-doo Voo-Doo. I feel compelled to add, “Kids, don’t try this at home.”

Hey, I am off to Waldos, there is a story around every corner, maybe I’ll see you there!

Oh, I know, it may be considered kind of a cheap hook; the whole “top-ten” list thing. But a friend suggested it and I thought it might provide a little relief, while providing some clues on what to look for in las escuelas patitos de ingles in Mexico. I admit I have a list of ten, but I am going to add them over a few days. I am hoping that people will add their own ideas and we can see what people are finding out there.

The Top-Ten Signs That You May Be Attending A Patito In Mexico

Number 10. Although the school is in Mexico, it is named after a dead U.S. President. (Or a statesman, or scientist, or the Queen of England, for God’s sake!)

Number 9. They offer “certificates” in 14 different languages, including Swahili, but only have three teachers. And they only speak Spanish.

Number 8. Employee dress code includes clause requiring teachers to use deodorant, comb their hair and change their underwear everyday. (And the code needs to stipulate that doesn’t mean to just exchange your underwear with someone else.)

As promised here are the next three signs your school may be a patito. You know, I could use some help here; as you may have noticed I am not really a comedy writer. The sad thing is all of these have some truth to them. The dress code thing, for example, I wrote to the company asking if it wasn’t a little embarrassing, no response, go figure!

Number 7. No one at the school actually speaks English, including the owner.

Number 6. “Textbooks” are all photo copies of stolen material.

Number 5. Patito franchise owner defends $30 pesos per hour (with no guarantee of number of hours) as a “competitive” salary and brags about the “benefits package” that includes a 10% discount at some fly-by-night optical company. (Oh, he wishes everyone “Bueno Suerte” as he drives of in his new Mercedes.) Here is a guy that really cares about the future of education in Mexico, (as long as he can make a buck off of it.) Ok, I’m being sarcastic, does that count as humor?

Stay tuned, and add some of your own sarcastic remarks. Luego

Tres mas:

Number 4. A portion of the teachers salaries are paid off in some sort of phony script, and they don’t even give you that until a week after payday.

Number 3. The “Board of Directors” consists only of members of the owners family–his wife (who actually is in charge of things, since none of these guys are smart enough to run a business themselves), a drunken brother-in-law, two or three young children, a pet dog, an uncle that has been dead for six years, and two other names that are just made up.

Number 2. The “Director’s” only English training was while he was a sleazy used car salesman cheating Mexican migrants out of their money in southern California. ( The implication is, of course, that now he is just cheating Mexicans out of their money right here in Mexico.)

And the number one sign that you may be attending a patito…tune in tomorrow. I’m still writing this one, I’d like to actually list the names of the worst offenders, maybe some specific details on business practices, I don’t know.

Number 1. The number one sign that your school may be a patito:

The “director” prominently displays a large picture of Ricky Ricardo at the Copa Cabana. (The irony is although “I Love Lucy” is shown, and enjoyed, here, it is dubbed completely in Spanish, so Ricky’s accent is not really a part of the schtick. And Lucy speaks perfect Spanish!! All I can say is, “Somebody’s got some ’splaining to do.)

There are many more signs, many are simply variations on the main theme–suck all of the money you can from desperate students and put as little as possible back into teacher’s salaries and no money into teacher training.

I’ll admit I kind of copped-out on the Number One sign. I had a different one all picked out but it is specific enough to point to the school that I consider to be one of the worst patitos in Mexico. I intend to use it yet but I think I will talk to my Mexican lawyer first!

Go ahead add some of your own signs to the list, my lawyer is pretty good!!! Adios amigos.

One-hundred years ago the state university in my home-town was called a State Normal School. It’s purpose was to train teachers that would supply schools in small towns across the region with well-trained teachers. It worked. Today the school is a part of the University system but it still provides teachers for thousands of public schools in hundreds of communities, large and small, across the country. Those teachers and their professors are justifiably proud of the contribution they have made to the education of tens of thousands of students. Students that have gone on to become teachers, administrators, researchers, community and business leaders.

Eighty years ago a series of Normal schools was established in Mexico. Their purpose was the same: to provide teachers for the schools that were slowly being established in rural areas. In my opinion, it hasn’t worked. For example, in the southern State of Guerrero, there is a shortage of more than one-thousand teachers in the rural schools. The truth is no one wants to teach in rural areas. There is very little infrastructure, limited resources and a general underlying sense that an adequate education is of no use to people living in the countryside. (The old: “Education is necessary, but the masses aren’t ready for it.”) The answer to the teacher shortage has been to provide instruction via video. That might work as a stop gap measure but it cannot and does not replace classroom teachers.

In the southern states, generally viewed by bureaucrats as hotbeds of calls for radical reform, progressive teachers and education are seen as dangerous to maintaining the status quo. Ironically, within the affected communities, teachers are viewed by the locals as important leaders for change. That, of course, makes them appear even more dangerous to the political hacks that control the system for their own, and their cronies, benefit. So the response by the national teachers union was to threaten teachers with replacement by teachers from outside the area. In fact it was stated that they would send in bus loads of teachers to take over education. Um, there are a few problems with that plan. For one thing they don’t have enough qualified teachers now, secondly, everyone is only interested in teaching in urban areas, and additionally, busing in a bunch of authorized union scabs would open the door to civil unrest of unimaginable proportions, while setting education and domestic relations back by decades. It is often said that the revolution never reached the southern states. Beyond the geographic and physical divisions (e.g. sheer distance and mountain ranges) there are basic cultural differences that make southern Mexico seem more like a part of central America than of Mexico. The population is largely indigenous, which means it is often marginalized.

At the Normal schools in the urban areas, administrators have simply given up trying to provide quality in education for future teachers. There is no incentive to improve because mediocrity has become accepted. For example, I was told by the director of languages at the Normal school in my city (she is an example of the resistance to change that is hurting education) that they don’t need to hire native speakers to teach English because they can get exchange students from the University of California for free. (Of course she said it in Spanish because she doesn’t, or wouldn’t, speak English.) That’s great, (there is very little opportunity to actually practice using English here) but a bunch of college kids on vacation in Mexico for a month is not the same thing as providing experienced teachers to train new teachers for a job that is so far outside the experience of American university students as to be laughable. At least it would be laughable if it weren’t so serious an example of the apathy and self-interested ignorance that pervades the educational system.

I managed to teach a few classes at the local Normal–to bright, energetic students that for the most part, had to learn English at the private patitos. The truth is many of the students could barely speak English themselves–and they will be teaching English next year. It is not their fault. But they are poorly prepared by teachers that once had ideals, but have now been crushed by the system. And the new teachers will be crushed by the system as they face the realities of a country that simply has no sense of a future where all citizens will have a role in progress.

The real irony in all of this is that it takes as much effort to thwart progress as it would to implement it. But after generations of authoritarian rule designed to suppress progress for the lower classes, disinterest has become the norm.

If you have a comment on this topic, please post it, I have more horror stories coming. I would like you to share your stories, whether you agree with me or not, because I am trying to learn about what is going on out there.

Lazaro Cardenas, Mexican President from 1934 to 1940, revered for nationalizing the railroad and oil industries

I read a recent column by a Mexican author talking about “Urban Legends” in Mexico. He cited examples ranging from a paternalistic political system designed to maintain the status quo to the reform of Pemex. I agree with much of what the columnist says. For example, that the political process in Mexico remains sort of a veiled mystery that “reflects [Mexico's] particular idiosyncrasies” and the political class has convinced themselves and many of the people that “therefore [Mexico] can never be governed under modern democratic institutions”. He refers to Mexico’s “outdated worldviews” and says that “development has stagnated because certain sectors of the political class still manage to use urban legends successfully.”

All of this is, sadly, true, but I believe the author is confusing the idea of urban legends with the nationalistic propaganda that citizens have been force-fed for decades. A citizenry that has been left purposely undereducated and misled for centuries by the ruling class, be they Aztec kings, Spanish conquistadors or self-serving, modern-era Mexican politicians.

He says, for example, that opposition to Pemex reform is based on the long held belief that “the nation is the owner of natural resources, especially oil”. I agree. I also believe that the multi-national oil companies were cheating Mexico before the industry was nationalized in the late 1930’s. I certainly don’t trust oil companies. But I also believe that, since that nationalization, corruption has cheated the Mexican people out of any benefits they may have derived from the value of the natural resources. (Along with the stories that the Mexican government secretly sold oil to Hitler.) Profits have been siphoned off by political insiders and by the leaders of the workers union. Now we hear that the oil is running out, and that only massive investment in infra-structure can save the industry by going after deep water oil deposits in the Gulf. Unfortunately, because seventy years of profit have been stolen and squandered, the only source for that investment is foreign capitalists. I don’t trust capitalists either, but I can tell you that the system is working better than the quasi-socialism, or rose-colored communism, or whatever the system has been in Mexico. I believe that some sort of rational immigration policy reform between the US and Mexico is necessary. (I believe Mexico needs to take responsibility for addressing the issues within the country that are causing people to leave. I always tell people that regardless of the propaganda spewed forth against the US, you don’t see Mexicans migrating to Central or South America).

My point is that urban legends are stories like the one about the guy that was injured when he was blown off his toilet seat when he threw a lit cigarette in the bowl after his wife had, earlier, poured some flammable liquid in it, (incidentally, the story continues that when the paramedics were carrying the man to the ambulance they were laughing so hard at the circumstances that they dropped the poor guy of off the stretcher), or the woman who found a live poisonous snake sewn into the lining of a coat, imported from China, that she bought at Wal-Mart. Or even the old saw about Mexicans selling baby rats to tourists and saying they were chihuahua puppies. Fine fodder for people with nothing else to talk about, but overall pretty harmless, and as far as believability, about on par with ghost stories told around a campfire.

But, political propaganda, whether promoted by Nazis, Soviets, Americans, Chinese, Venezuelans or Mexicans is designed to control people’s thoughts, actions and lives. It is much more insidious and too important to be considered just a national quirk. It needs to be identified as what it is and explored as to the consequences of perpetuating the ideas contained with in it.

The columnist concludes by saying, that if anyone “tells you something about Mexican history or [Mexicans] ‘nature’, [and] if they are using [Mexico's] weaknesses–either real or presumed–as an excuse for not promoting change, it means they hope to take advantage of popular ignorance.” A popular ignorance established and maintained on purpose.

In Spanish, “patitos” means “little ducks”, in the vernacular in Latin America it means “phony”. So, for example, there is the reference to a “Patito Republic”, a nation under the rule of the military or a dictator that attempts to be seen as a modern Republic. A friend explained it to me once as being similar to the “Acme” brand name in the old Road Runner cartoons. Every time the coyote would open a crate with a rocket sled or jet-powered roller skates it would be marked as coming from Acme Corporation. Although there are companies called Acme, and in fact, there is a brand of household bleach called “los Patitos” my friend explained that it is not a brand name that inspires confidence. It is a joke in Mexico.

Las escuelas patitos translates as “the schools of the little ducks” but it refers to the “phony” low-quality private schools that have appeared all around the big urban centers of Mexico. They have them in the States, too. There, they are designed to steal people’s student loan money, leaving them with a big debt and a generally, as well as, a genuinely, worthless education. Here, they just steal the money right out of your (or your parent’s) pockets. It is all part of what has become known as the “Edu-business”.

It is my opinion that these “phony” schools are a cruel joke, not only on their students but on the state of education in Mexico. These schemes come in different subjects, for example, computer schools are all over the place now. Beauty schools, tourism, cooking and auto repair training are also examples. But the ones I am most familiar with are “las escuelas patitos” of English. I’ll be honest, it is embarrassing to see these “schools” proliferating while the country’s educational establishment simply watches from the sidelines. I call them the burger king schools, because if you have enough money you can either buy a restaurant franchise or an English school franchise. (And you don’t even need to speak English yourself!)

My experience has been that every Mexican in the big industrial cities knows about las escuelas patitos, but no one ever talks about them! It took me six months to figure out what was going on. I don’t doubt that some of the founders of these schools began with the purest of intentions–to provide quality instruction to students of English that simply can’t get what they need from a public university system mired in a bureaucracy that is, frankly, designed to not work. As the multi-national manufacturers became established in Mexico, language schools became a fast buck bonanza for the unscrupulous. Competition increased with schools popping up on every other block. Increasingly low-quality programs drove down the level of instruction and the expectations of both teachers and students. Businesses shopped around for the lowest price. Schools became businesses. Education became a victim. In the mean time the patitos continue to cheat their students, abuse their teachers and suck resources away from legitimate educational opportunity.

I’ve talked with teachers from all levels of schools across central Mexico and the only thing that surprises them is that a foreigner is talking about “los patitos”. So I think it is time for el Fomentador to start discussing this issue. I intend to share stories of bad schools and the people that run them. As an example, there was a private “Universidad” in northern Mexico that had three of the owners young children listed as members of the “Board of Regents” of the school!

What I am asking is for others that have had experiences with the patitos to share their stories also. I am looking forward to reading what you have to say. adios amigos, el Fomentador

Most people in Mexico, when they hear the name of Santo, will laugh. Then, they will think for a moment about all of the Santo movies they have seen, their friends, the theaters, the times that el Santo may have been wrestling in their city, the fun of watching a Santo re-run on Mexican cable TV.A friend of mine, Angel, from San Miguel, chuckled when I asked him about Santo. Then he slowly began remembering stories. His older sister gathering a group of kids from the neighborhood and shuffling (more like shepherding, I imagine) them all down to the old movie theater off the Jardin.

Ahh. The Saturday Matinee. Masses of maniacs crowding in to see the King of Luche Libre, Santo El Enmascarado de Plata. Undoubtedly it was a double feature. And a scene repeated in towns and cities across the world with different movie heroes and different maniacs.

Angel said each kid would have a torta tucked into a pocket for a snack during the movie. Of course, the basic formula for a Santo movie is some 40 minutes of wrestling sequences with some 20 minutes of story built around them. Angel said when the “King was in the ring” the dark, old theater became a room full of little upturned faces reflecting back the light of the big screen in rapt attention.

If it looked like the big guy was in trouble, you know, if say, for instance, Santo happened to be fighting an invisible time traveler from the 16th century running around with a huge hatchet, or a mechanical clone created by some diabolically mad Mexican scientist, all the kids in the audience would begin rhythmically clapping and chanting in unison: “Santo, Santo, Santo”. Usually in chorus with the audience on the screen.

Many of the wrestling clips appear to have been shot live, including plenty of crowd response, which only goes to show that some things are constant across time and cultural boundaries, for example: wrestling fans!

Invariably the encouragement worked its magic and Santo recovered his bearings and pulled out a decisive victory, to the cheers of the, by now, decidely, enthusiastic crowd.

I’ve seen Santo driving everything from a dune buggy to a space ship. But he has used a variety of snazzy sports cars ( I think they made, like, ninety movies over a forty year period). Angel remembered that whatever Santo was driving in his latest movie was the car that everyone wanted to have. In Mexico, Santo masks were as popular with kids as Daniel Boone ‘coonskin caps in the U.S.

In his career Santo fought everyone (the titles were always “Santo contra someone or something”) from space aliens and ghosts to neo-nazis and crooked art dealers. (There’s even a Santo vs Capulina, for those that know their Mexican film icons. I don’t want to give away the story, but it turns out to be a clone of Capulina, made by some evil guy; rest assured that Santo would never do anything to hurt the real Capulina).

My point is, frankly, this guy can do it all. He is on the side of truth, justice and liberty. He’s a man of action, but he can be thoughtful and reasoning. He has adapted to all the latest crime-fighting technology over the years. His wrestling skills speak for themselves–anyone, anywhere, anytime. I don’t believe I have ever seen him lose a fight! Chicks are crazy about him but he never even takes off his mask!

As an aside, the worst thing, well, one of the worst things that can happen to a masked wrestler, is to have his mask removed by an opponent thereby “revealing his true identity to the world”. (Whether the world is really that interested is another question.) A bad guy did manage to pull off Santos mask once, but, big surprise, Santo was wearing a second mask underneath!

I think one evil temptress saw him without his mask after she had put him under some kind of spell, but if I remember correctly, she was killed by the end of the movie so she never got the chance to “reveal the true identity of Santo El Enmascarado de Plata to the world”. Wow, that was a close one!

So, as I said in my introduction, I have chosen el Santo to represent the ideals of el Fomentador. I made the choice based on many things, but most of all because Santo is the kind of guy I want on my side. He knows instinctively what is is right. When he discovers what he needs to do, he makes a straight line to it and gets it done. Either in or out of the ring, he’ll do what it takes to win, but he believes in good sportsmanship and the rule of law. A hero for the ages, and one from which we can all learn something.

And, finally, and perhaps most importantly, man, I’d look good behind the wheel of one of those sports cars!