That's My Story

THE VILLAGE JEFE

Originally published in Western Outdoor News Aug. 28, 2007

There are certain given “truths” I have found in Mexico that are inalienable. Nothing will ever change about them and you can take it to the bank. It’s a bit like Murphy’s law.

A few examples:

The slowest car at the border crossing is always in YOUR lane on a Sunday afternoon or Monday morning.

Ice melts too fast

No one stops at stop signs in a Mexican neighborhood

The best places to eat would never get an “A” rating back home in your neighborhood from the health department

In your hotel shower, the letter “C” does not mean cold. It means “caliente” (hot) and you will burn yourself!

At the worst possible time you will find out Mexican toilet paper is really thin

Everyone loves stickers

A spanking clean house can still have dirt floors

It is better to have a bad boat and great skipper than a great boat and bad skipper

There’s no such thing as a free lunch; free fishing trip or free shopping spree at a timeshare presentation

A hot chilis eaten now bites back later in many forms. Fire in. Fire out. You are impressing no one.

One other truth I have found the longer I live down here is that if you want to get something done, fast, efficiently and with the least amount of hassle, find the neighborhood “jefe.” (boss) Every pueblo has one. Every barrio (neighborhood) has one whether you call him “jefe”, “tio” (uncle), “patron” (protector) or some other name.

The jefe is many things. I suppose in places like Sicily or New Jersey he would be called “Godfather.” The man (and sometimes a woman) makes things happen.

He is many things to many people. He probably is “uncle” to many in the neighborhood, not to mention the real godfather to half the kids. Why not? He was probably the matchmaker at some point. He knows everyone and everyone knows him.

He is sometimes judge and arbitrator between disputing neighbors. You ask him for advice and counsel. You don’t make big moves without asking the jefe.

Often one of the more affluent persons in the neighborhood, he may have a dirt floor, but he’s got a satellite dish. He is often the banker/lender when it comes to financing that new car or washer/dryer. He holds money and accounts and is asked to give counsel when folks have a problem.

He’s a grade-A hustler. Need tires? Ask him first. He’ll set you up with a friend of a friend. Concrete work? His cousin is in the business. Nintendo for Christmas? He’s got a connection up in California and someone to drive it down. Nice car for your daugther’s wedding? Juan at the Ford dealer owes the jefe a favor.

Indeed, just about everyone owes him a favor. He knows the accountants, lawyers, body shop owners; the chief of police and all the restaurant owners. He and the mayor went to school together and he can walk into the mayor’s office at any time.

Yessiree. Services are free, but tipping is welcome and a commission structure can always be organized along the guidelines of the mutual back-scratchers association. He’s worth the time and money.

You do not throw a baptism without the jefe. He’s there at every wedding and quincinera (coming out party). No social event is complete without him. He sits at the head table. There’s not too much the jefe cannot do.

For gringos trying to operate in a place where language, culture, politics, religion, and social norms are a difficult forum to navigate, finding a jefe can make life a lot easier. Try doing things yourself for awhile. Gnash your teeth. Get your blood boiling as you deal with the the frustrations of seemingly simple things like getting your car tuned up or subscribing to cable TV or how to get a dentist for a dropped filling.

Find a jefe and life suddenly gets simpler. Things and people appear by magic. Wheels get greased. Show your appreciation with returned thoughtfulness and you’ll probably make a friend for life and find your own “in” to the complexities of Mexican living.

Even if you’re not going to live or work down here, having a local jefe as a contact to help you and your buddies navigate around town is invaluable. It can be a favorite taxi driver (always well connected if he’s worth his salt) or your favorite captain or bellman. They’ll direct you to restaurants; entertainment; services and other things you might not have found on your own. Tips are appreciated and believe me, every year you come back, you’ll have a friend waiting.

Lastly…

JONATHAN got snookered. I recently touted the “fact” that on August 27th, the planet Mars would be so close to earth that it would appear 2 full moons would be in the evening sky. It would not happen again in our lifetimes. NOT! Turns out it was a hoax! I got the info from a doctor friend who got it from a scientist friend, etc. etc. All of us fell for it. Sorry! At least it’s not as bad as falling for the one where Bill Gates and Microsoft will give me a zillion dollars!

That’s my story. If you ever want to reach me, my e-mail is riplipboy@aol.com.