That's My Story

THOSE PEOPLE – published May 2005 – Western Outdoor Magazines Baja Backbeat Column

Recently, I was seated on a flight back from Baja to S. California doing my usual commute between my two offices. As luck would have it, I was thankful that for once, I wasn’t seated next to a crying infant. There are times when I think the gods of aviation must have singled me out to be seated next to the screamer or, just as annoying, the tyke who kicks my seat from behind or plays with his/her tray the entire flight.

No, this time it seemed as though I was in the middle of two or three families all returning from their Baja vacation. They weren’t fishermen…or at least maybe they had fished a few days, but at least the 3 or 4 guys and older boys didn’t look like fishermen. You know how us fishermen look after a few days in the Baja! Our usual traveling “ensemble” consists of shorts; sandals, 3 day old souvenir tank top with fish picture complete with weird looking suntan; lifeguard hat and bleery-eyes from lack of sleep and too much beer. Either we’re real loud and still on a roll or can’t keep our eyes open.

On the contrary, the folks sitting around me were “dressed” the way folks used to dress if they were going traveling. The men had on khaki slacks and docksider shoes. They had the kind of perfect hair I used to aspire to before my scalp grew through my haircut. The ladies were all “designer” as were the kids. Even their grungy beach clothes had designer labels. Every kid had an iPod. I imagined the moms spent a lot of time fund raising and doing lunches at the country club. It was kind of nice to be in the middle of this for once. I’m admittedly a natural evesdropper and I’m normally used to traveling companions telling “pull-my-finger” jokes or trying to remember how many tequilas they had the night before. I learn a lot from what I hear.

This is one time, I wished I had had the screaming baby next to me.

The talk flew buzzed around me consisting of them talking about the…

…the properties they had bought
…the new houses that were almost finished
…imported furnishings for the ones that were already finished
…the yachts that were going to be brought down
…which restaurants served the best wine
…complaining that they would have to decide between Aspen or Baja in the winter
…finding a nanny and housekeepers
…which beach would make the best investment for the future

OK…it was clear that I wasn’t in this particular social strata. But, this is what I also heard snippets of…

“….that lazy…….THOSE lazy…that ridiculous service… slow…THOSE people…taking advantage of us…corrupt system…not service oriented…THOSE unsanitary conditions…THOSE people…speak no English…no cell phone…THOSE people take their time…but we’re Americans…robbing us blind…our money…THOSE uneducated…”

You getting the picture? It was all I could do to grit my teeth and shudder. One part of me wanted to yell and another wanted to hang my head in shame. As the peppered conversation was loud enough as they spoke from seat to seat and across the aisles over the roar of the engines as if they were sitting at a big family dinner table.

Being an international flight, I know that the Mexican travelers sitting around the families could clearly hear the conversation and whether they spoke English or not, there was no way to mistake the condescending tone. But the group chatted on in self-centered oblivion. I prayed that I don’t sound like that, but admitted that there were certainly times when I might have been unthinkingly inconsiderate.

The sad part is that these are the types of conversations I’m hearing with increased frequency as the real estate boom in Mexico brings new people and new money to the land. It’s growing exponentially especially as we snap up more and more of the land and resources owned by THOSE people. (yes…we took their water when we sucked up the Colorado River a few decades ago!) Just who are THOSE people?

They’re not much different than us. There’s good and bad and most are trying to scratch out an honest living like the rest of us. They build the roads so we can come visit. They build the hotels and marinas so our boats can be as comfortable as our families. They cook the food; run the boats; clean our condos; wash the sheets; serve our beer with a smile. Mostly those were MY friends they were talking about and it pained me to hear them painted with such a broad brush as much as it pains me to hear some Mexicans call us all war mongers because of the Middle East.

I know we have our own problems in the U.S. with “visitors” from Mexico as well, but conversely, it’s so easy to forget that when we’re in Mexico we are also guests and welcome ones at that! The country belongs to THOSE people, but it seems as though because we have the deeper pockets, ownership breeds entitlement.

I was once asked by a client, “How come everyone in Mexico speaks Spanish?”

I could only shake my head. Yes, it’s all about us. Wish I had the screaming baby next to me instead.

That’s my story

Jonathan