Column
Latinos in North America....Neither from here nor there.

Extrapolating about "flagged up" cars, the best tamales and the "communist" nature of Hispanics.

By Luisa Gomez

There is nothing quite like being Latin. Not to say that, as a group, we are better or worse than others. We are simply different. We are persistent, spiritual and passionate - lovers of the family, brave and adventurous.

According to the official US Census, there is a clear distinction between the terms White, afro-American, Native American and Latino. Can Latinos not be white, black or Native American?

To make all this more that much more interesting, we can be all three at once. Moreover, we are defined as LATIN-American. The term "American" by itself is reserved for Anglo-Saxons living north of the Rio Grande and south of the Canadian border. (I always thought anyone born on the American continent was an American, but, apparently, I was wrong).

We are more of a linguistic group than a race. We are a rainbow. We are a mine of ideas, of electoral power. A powerhouse of talent.

I am not saying that the people whose origins lie in one of the many countries between Tijuana and the Patagonia are all the same. Au contraire - we are all so different, that we tend to identify ourselves more with our own flag (See: the ornament hanging from the rear-view mirror of a Latino's car) than we do with the term 'Latino'.

Even within the confines of our own countries, we have the tendency to identify ourselves with the region we are from. A good example from my Native Colombia: A person from Bogotá has more in common with the conservative and austere nature of a Chilean than he does with the happy-go-lucky personality and Cuban-like accent of a Barranquillero from the Caribbean coast.

Yes, almost all the inhabitants of Latin America dance to the beats of Colombian cumbia, Argentinean tango, and Mexican rancheras. Mexicans and Salvadorans have even adopted cumbia as their own (and even added the techno element to it) and Colombians swear that the capital of tango is Medellin because that is where Gardel died.

We have a lot in common, yet we are also very different.

We differ even in our food. The hot peppers that a Peruvian will dab on his meal with no hesitation, will burn a hole through my Colombian palate and keep my eyes watering for a good three hours.

We also tend to prepare even the same foods very differently. Mexicans fill their tamales with chilli sauce, Colombians with potatoes and peas, while Nicaraguans pack them with raisins and olives.... and each of these nationals will assure you that THEIR tamales are the best.

When we are unable to obtain products from our own countries, we "settle" for products from other Latin countries.

A Colombian will substitute Areparina (corn meal) with Mexican Maseca (Mexican tortilla flour), a Guatemalan will buy "El Charro" (Mexican) tortillas, a Nicaraguan will buy read beans from Costa Rica and a Chilean will eat Argentinean empanadas.

Nevertheless, you can rest assured that all these foods will be eaten amidst a series of complains and comparisons to our own country's products ("these tamales just don't taste the same as ours..."). Yet, strangely enough, they will still be completely gobbled down in minutes, and the next day we will still go back to the Latino corner store for more.

Latin America is also a boiling kettle of political discontent as well, the cradle of idealists and dreamers (there are more lovers of Marxism-Leninism and more Che Guevara t-shirts per square metre than in any of the countries in the old Iron Curtain).

Almost all of us, however, have capitalist dreams, which explain the waves of immigrants, both legal and illegal, arriving daily at North American airports, or swimming across the Rio Grande.

We are socialists, in theory anyways.

When we are in our countries, we want to leave, because, according to the statistics, everything is better "there".

But, when we leave, we miss our homelands and realize that we have traded off friendliness and warmth for safety, family values for financial stability and many other things that can vary from individual to individual.

Even though (as in my case) we have spent the greater part of our lives in North America, there is always that little something that identifies us as Latinos. That barely detectable accent when we pronounce the English Rs, or the way we swing our hips when we walk (this applies mostly to women), or the smart-mouthed sarcasm when we say things.

After spending 17 winters in Canada, I am still not used to snow. Every winter morning I listen to the accordions in a Carlos Vives wailing out of my car stereo, while my little car slides its way across the snow, amidst screams of panic and swear words.

(Speaking of which, when somebody swears at your mom in Spanish, it sounds all the more painful. That's when it reaches deep into your heart in all the wrong ways

And, while we are speaking of wailing accordions, I should also mention that we are also Latino through our art. There is nothing quite like being overly sentimental. A male Latino popster can sing the cheesiest ballad on earth and make it sound so romantic that even the most frigid, indifferent woman will burst into tears.

In spite of having been away from our countries for so long, we can generally recognize the intonation of a compatriot from miles away. We read our countries' newspapers on the internet. There are some things in life that just never change.

It doesn't matter where you are born, what language you speak (or how well you speak it), who you marry, what you eat or don't eat. That Perez, Rodriguez, Castro, Mendez, Gomez...etc., will impetuously flow through your veins until the minute you draw your last breath.