When living in Texas years ago, my good friend Wesley used to say, “It’s a Mexican deal,” about anything that didn’t make much sense or looked dangerous… or even a repair job done poorly. A car with a coat hanger rigged up to hold the door closed? “Mexican deal.” A car painted three different colors? “Mexican deal.”
I’ve seen similar pictures on posts saying “only in Russia…”
I used to feel bad that the Mexican’s were the brunt of everything that Wes deemed poorly done.
A few weeks ago, I was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico for 17 days. It was business with a little pleasure. Cabo is like wealthy American culture and poor Mexican culture mixed together. I loved it, personally. But every so often, I would run into something that made me think of Wesley.
On the first day, my friend Oh Be and I decided to take to the streets and see what Cabo was all about.
As we were walking, Oh Be stopped me and said be careful. As I looked down, there were four huge bolts meant to hold a light pole sticking out of the ground ready to be tripped over. It was so glaring of something you just wouldn’t see in the United States. If you did, it would be marked with orange barricades to protect people, likely because of insurance and law suits. Oh Be mused to me that the insurance laws must be different here. I agreed and said I had better pay more attention and be responsible for myself more as there aren’t any insurance companies doing it for me to keep from being liable. Then I said it: “It’s a Mexican deal.” Oh Be smiled and asked me what I meant.
Over the 17 days we were there, we saw a lot of things just as bad and some things even worse. I really had to be vigilant depending on where I was in order to ensure I didn’t get hurt. Some places it was just right as rain. Then I would let my guard down somewhat and run into another thing that could be dangerous.
There was this one corner on a nice street that had a small three foot wall and on top of that wall were these steel spikes that look like large steel arrows. If someone was walking too fast and slipped or tripped onto the wall…they would be seriously hurt and impaled. If someone fell on them they would have to be surgically removed from this wall of arrow heads. I thought of a child climbing up… well I won’t continue the thought. It was just crazy! It was a “Mexican deal,” both Oh Be and I said as we laughed together.
Over 17 days we were saying it all the time.
In the United States, I may have complained to someone about all these blatant dangers… but in Mexico… it would do me no good.
I learned a few important lessons from this.
When the onus of responsibility was on me and there was no one to blame or insurance companies to fall back on, I started looking out for myself more knowing there wasn’t anyone to blame but me myself. I liked this. It really felt good. I recognized somewhere in me that it was like life was supposed to be somehow.
I became more present in my body knowing there wasn’t a nanny state to take care of me if i fell or hurt myself. I teach 100% responsibility to my coaching clients, so finding another place where I can learn to take this responsibility back from where I gave it away. It is nice to discover these places and take back my power.
After 17 days we were saying the phrase almost automatically and laughing. I started to understand Wes a bit more. He wasn’t really making fun of Mexican People. He was just noting how they do stuff in Mexico compared to the U.S. Wes and his father had spent a lot of time in Mexico border towns. When Wes and his father said it to each other, there didn’t need to be a big long conversation or a big upset. Once they said it “its a Mexican Deal” they seemed to just let it go with an acceptance that it would be futile to complain or get upset. It’s just the way it is.
I was practicing “Letting go” in a new way…i was practicing “acceptance” in a new way…and so often that it felt good and tickled me inside…it was a relief.
I liked practicing the idea that there was nothing I could do about it. In the US, I seemed to be stuck on fixing it…or getting someone to do something about it. In Mexico there were so many of these things in a city block that I went into overwhelm and transmuted the energy into something much more friendly and something that was now giving me humor for upset…”It’s a Mexican deal.”
As Oh Be and i landed in Phoenix to go through customs (I got caught by a most adorable Beagle trying to smuggle a Gala Apple from A Mexican Costco that originated in the USA..back into the USA), we had to walk about a half a mile around the airport to get back to the exact same gate and exact same plane to catch our connection to Sacramento. We were tired and I was complaining about the long walk and why couldn’t they make it more efficient…Oh Be looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and a smile and said “Its a Mexican Deal.” We both laughed and again the energy was transmuted.
Why not bring it back to the USA? Why not bring it with you everywhere?
PS Oh Be and I love the Mexican people. We made some incredible friends. We love the attitude the people have and the big hearts we found in abundance. I can see myself spending much more time with them in the future.