Culture – Page 11 – Pat the Expat

Frames of Reference

Ever take a good hard look at your frames of reference? By that I mean the experiences, education, travel, lifestyle and intellectual pursuits that are not necessarily unique to you, but frame how you process and make sense of what’s going on around you. Some might call them your biases, but I think that’s a little too pejorative: we all have them, so why automatically think of them as negative?

For example, I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. I had a frame of reference that people were basically honest and friendly, schools were competent, the local authorities honest, and opportunities abounded. Americana 101. I also believed large cities were dirty, and people there were rude or potentially violent. Their schools were ramshackle. Their police might entrap you. Their government was corrupt.

I eventually lived in or near big cities, where I confirmed everything I previously held about them! I also learned the big cities were cosmopolitan, held cultural treasures, and had even more opportunities. And small towns could be somewhat provincial; imagine that!

The entire concept of generational cohorts (think “The Greatest Generation” or Baby-Boomers, Gen-Xers, Millennials) involves frames of reference. People who go through the same major events (say WWII) at around the same age tend to develop a common way of thinking. It’s not universal, but it is useful as a way to generalize about them. My grandmother, who survived the Great Depression as a young woman, always kept on hand a large supply of canned goods and other things, and retained a profound distrust of banks. Those characteristics were common among her generation, and persisted long after the cause for them ended: for example, when banks became federally insured.

What about your unconscious frames? If you grew up in the States, you most likely imbibed an English cultural frame. Which does not mean an understanding of English History; good heavens no! Most Americans think The War of the Roses was a 1989 divorce flick. No, I mean an English view of history and culture. France and the French: weak, decadent, presumptuous. Spain and the Spanish: corrupt, untrustworthy, nefarious. Germany and the Germans: autocratic, efficient, and of course Nazis. China and Chinese: inscrutable. India and the Indians: Servile. England and the English: indefatigable, educated, and enterprising. Hmmmmm, one of these things is not like the others! Where did Americans, who originally had little contact with many of these countries, get these stereotypes, some of which were contradicted by early American experience (France and Spain sided with us in the revolution against England)?

Frames are hard to identify simply by introspection; new experiences–or encountering other frames–make it easier. As an expat, I often laugh at some aspects of the US history I once learned: all about Plymouth Plantation and the English colony of Jamestown. Only after living in Latin America did I stop and reconsider that the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine, Florida, was forty-two years old when the English got to Jamestown, and the only reason Jamestown survived was the Spanish decided not to attack it.

As an expat, you bring a lifetime of frames to your new home. Expect police to be well-paid, well-trained public servants dedicated to the rule of law? Government to be efficient and transparent? Law to be impartial? Depending on where you land, maybe, maybe not. The reverse is also true. Where you once might have experienced people judged implicitly by their skin color, you might find those judgments applied to shades, or accents, or even facial structures!

Whether for good or ill, frames exist and affect us everyday. For expats, identifying your frames may be critical to whether you can ever fit in your new community. Change in cultural frames happens slowly, and almost never by external forces (I’m thinking the pacification of Germany and Japan as exceptions that prove the rule). When you come from somewhere else, you’re free to observe, to comment with courtesy, but most of all to respect the new culture. It may welcome you, but you sought it; it didn’t seek you.

What ails America?

It seems like Americans agree on few things these days. Perhaps the one thing almost all Americans agree on is something is wrong in America. Even there, the agreement is only skin-deep: progressives and conservatives have decidedly different opinions on what is wrong, yet agree that something is wrong.

For conservatives, America has lost its moral bearings, forgotten its past, and seems dead set on atomizing into various victim-groups competing for an ever more debt-fueled federal largess. Progressives see a people unwilling to remember its failings, unable to accept new rights claimants, blind to racism, sexism, and ever-greater economic inequality. For the moment, I’m willing to stipulate that both are correct, and at the same time, totally irrelevant. Why? Because both are focused on symptoms, not the problem.

America is unique among nations because it is a nation based on a notion. That notion is a complex mix of individual liberty, collective responsibility, and the right to be left alone. It was heavily influenced by English common law and traditions, and deeply embedded in a Judeo-Christian background. I would characterize that background as America’s Soul. The Founders, from a variety of religious backgrounds, were clear:

Washington: Religion is “a necessary spring of popular government.”
Adams: Leaders “may plan and speculate for Liberty, but it is Religion and Morality alone, which can establish the Principles upon which Freedom can securely stand.” and “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.”
Franklin: “the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this Truth–that God governs in the Affairs of Men. . . . I also believe that without his concurring Aid, we shall succeed in this political Building no better than the Builders of Babel.”

I am not engaging in the tiresome “is America a Judeo-Christian nation?” argument. I am stating that the notion that is America rests upon a Judeo-Christian heritage, which is now only tenuous. The Deism that animated so many of the Founding Fathers was a Christian heresy (technical term, not derogatory). Their ‘Watchmaker’ God was not Zeus; He only makes sense as a derivative of Yahweh. And that connection is practically lost today.

The notion of America has changed subtly over time. Jefferson foresaw a nation of land-owning farmer-gentlemen. Lincoln envisioned a born-again Republic free from its original sin. Roosevelt sought solidarity among the classes and the birth of a world power. Reagan proclaimed the triumph of that power and renewed personal freedom.

All different, all variations on a theme.

The American people are once again in the process of debating that theme. During our recent visit to the States (grandkids & vaccinations), Gallup released poll data showing, for the first time, Church membership in the United States fell below fifty percent. As recently as the turn of the century, almost seventy percent of Americans belonged to a Church, and the decline since has been precipitous. This is something new: the theme is up for discussion, but so is the background.

The answer is not simply a call to return to the pews (as much as I would welcome that). America experienced a series of Great Awakenings, Protestant revivals that corresponded to various American crises. But today’s problem is not simply the dramatic decline in American Protestantism, but the deeper loss of any American connection to its Judeo-Christian heritage.

“Who cares about religion, anyway, can’t we just live by the Golden Rule?” That rule exists in nearly all religions and cultures, so I would respond with “how has that worked out for the world so far?” Its secular limits are many and obvious: “others” not defined as people, the narcissist who expects to be taken advantage of, the problem of scale. The Judeo-Christian elaboration on the Golden Rule provided means to address these problems, and provided a check on the way we respond to each other’s disagreements. That people at times violated these rules no more invalidates the rules than a murder invalidates the crime of murder.

This all plays out in complex ways, across a spectrum of issues. The First Amendment guarantee of freedom of religion was a rational attempt to avoid favoring one religion over another in order to avoid the religious wars which plagued Europe. Extended today to the relationship between religion and unbelief, it becomes untenable: you can’t interpret law to be neutral to both a positive concept and its denial. This has lead to increasingly complex and contradictory Supreme Court rulings, wherein individuals seek more restrictions on religious activities and various faiths seek more and more exemptions from existing law.

Shorn from the Christian dictum to “care for your neighbor (and who is your neighbor?),” conservatives feel free to ignore family separations and leave the old and sick vulnerable to pandemia. Progressives discover a new Gospel. In their telling, Jesus says to the rich man, “Go, support a huge government program for the poor, use the right #hashtag, and you will inherit the Kingdom of God.”

Science advances apace, but in what direction? Moral questions of whether we should do something are pushed aside in favor of simple utilitarian answers. Scientists in California and China teamed up to create chimeras: embryos that are part monkey, part human. They claim to be addressing the need for more organs to transplant, and deny any ethical issues. Should we follow this science?

The absence of Christian charity in our exchanges should be obvious: it is why we often immediately question the motives of any who disagree, characterize any transgression as evil (I would say mortal sin), and refuse to offer or accept simple forgiveness. Our American system of government is full of checks and balances, and therefor it requires compromise to function. But now both sides seem more interested in scoring points or dominating, not cooperating.

I could cite a thousand examples, from hate crimes to tax policy to road rage to immigration to, well, you get the point. America is losing, perhaps has lost, its Soul. It wasn’t the fault of any faith, political party or movement. It wasn’t simply the aggregation of a trend by millions of individuals deciding just to sit home and watch the NFL on Sunday. It happened over a long period of time, mostly as a result of neglect: a simple lack of understanding of the role our Soul played in the notion of the nation of America.

Am I overstating the role of Soul? Look at the Presidents we most admire, and see how they all intuited, and used, our reliance on Soul. Lincoln, himself not a Christian, was the greatest practitioner: calling on God time and again, citing our better angels, readily pulling memorable quotes from the Bible. Roosevelt’s “nothing to fear” line directly mirrors “Be not afraid” while he characterized the New Deal as “the path of faith, the path of hope, the path of love.” Reagan constantly borrowed the optimistic view characteristic of Christianity.

As Lincoln so well put it, “‘A house divided against itself cannot stand.’. . . I do not expect the Union to be dissolved – I do not expect the house to fall – but I do expect it will cease to be divided.” Americans face a choice: what is to be our Soul? There has to be an underlying principle to our notion of a nation, one that all Americans can accept. Just as not all 18th Century Americans were Protestants, our new Soul need not be the creed for every American, but it must be accepted by all.

I recently watched an entertaining debate between Alex O’Connor, a well-followed British atheist who runs The Cosmic Skeptic YouTube channel and Bishop Robert Barron, the prolific Catholic apologist of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles and Word on Fire.

Two hours long, and with some high-fallutin’ words!

During the debate, O’Connor noted that as an atheist, he has an advantage in that he need not put forward a rival worldview, but only need point out inconsistencies in the faith-view; the onus was on those who believe. This is absolutely true in such a debate, but I believe the opposite pertains in the argument over America’s Soul. There, the existing connection (to Judeo-Christian beliefs) has been challenged, so the onus is on the challengers: what comprehensive, attractive and feasible concept do you propose?

If we were a nation based on race or ethnicity, this discussion would be unnecessary. But as a nation based on a notion, we must not only have the discussion, we must come to a conclusion. Arguing against the Judeo-Christian background is not enough; in the end, what holds US together?

Data, Numbers, & Hate

A few posts back, I promised to explore the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes. First let me explain two challenges: one is the difference between data and numbers, and the other is the difficulty in determining intent behind an action.

First, I think we all know what numbers are, but how to distinguish them from data? Data are just numbers that have been processed in some way to make them useful in comparing or combining. A simple example: if I told you the temperature in Cincinnati today was 40° but only 20° in Ajijic, you might assume Ohio was warmer than Jalisco, and that would be wrong. Those are numbers, not data. The numbers are in different scales (Fahrenheit and Centigrade); placed in the same scale, they become data and we can compare.

Another example: I just saw a headline (later revised) that said “One hundred fully-vaccinated people in Washington State have gotten Covid” which sounds scary. However, those one-hundred victims came out of a pool of 1.2 million vaccinated people in Washington. With context, the story was that less than .01% of vaccinated people in Washington later got Covid, which is reassuring, not scary. Processing numbers into data is essential!

Second, actions are easier to assess than intent. If I walk past you and don’t greet you on the street, was I angry at you, preoccupied, inconsiderate, unaware, near-sighted or some combination of all of the above. You can easily assess the fact that I did not greet you, but the cause becomes a matter of great conjecture, and I myself may not be able to answer “why?”.

You may have seen the claims of a great increase in the number of anti-Asian (sometimes referred to as anti-Asian/Pacific Islander, hence AAPI) hate incidents. Activists and the media tie the phenomenon back to the Trump administration and his blaming China for the Coronavirus pandemic in 2019. Let’s dig into the numbers (hint). The first point to understand is that the FBI has not published its 2020 crime data, so there is no single, national, data-set for hate crimes. Here is the last FBI graph:

The data are low, and hit an all-time low in 2015 before starting a gradual rise. The FBI data is not comprehensive, as law enforcement elements participate voluntarily, but it does cover more than fifteen thousand organizations representing over three-hundred million Americans.

In the absence of 2020 FBI data, what numbers do we have? The numbers cited in most major media reporting come from StopAAPIHate. Here’s the pull quote from their website: “In response to the alarming escalation in xenophobia and bigotry resulting from the COVID-19 pandemic, the Asian Pacific Planning and Policy Council (A3PCON), Chinese for Affirmative Action (CAA), and the Asian American Studies Department of San Francisco State University launched the Stop AAPI Hate reporting center on March 19, 2020.” I’ll set aside the question of using data from a group which set out under the assumption of an “alarming escalation” and just show their results here:

There are several potential issues here. The numbers come from the sixteen largest US cities, so we have an urban skew to the data. The numbers are very small: eleven cities had incident totals in the single digits, and four reported no incidents in 2019, meaning the data could go nowhere but up. The overwhelming number (eighty-eight of one hundred twenty-two) of hate crimes happened in just six cities: New York, Los Angeles, Boston, Seattle, San Francisco, and San Jose.

StopAAPIHate has other issues. Among the numbers it uses to buttress its claim of increasing hate crimes are: Google Search terms, slurs on Twitter, and any claim that China is possibly responsible for the coronavirus. The last one would make much of the planet guilty of anti-Asian hate crimes, including most of Asia. StopAAPIHate does not acknowledge other explanations or causations (e.g., the non-representative nature of Twitter, or the use of Google search to explain unfamilar words).

It is interesting to note that overall hate crimes declined by seven per cent in 2020, while anti-Asian hate crimes rose by one-hundred forty-nine per cent. It is also relevant to note that anti-Asian hate crimes account for only seven per cent of all hate crimes, and the following groups had more reported victims of hate crimes in 2019: blacks, whites (!), Hispanics, Jews, Muslims, Gays, and LBQT+. On top of that, there is the issue of attributing crimes based solely on the race of the victims. The Anti Defamation League (ADL) discovered a huge increase in anti-Semitic attacks back in 2017 when it included thousands of false, phone-bomb threats (to Jewish Community Centers and schools) conducted by an American-Israeli Jewish student. Still, the purported rise in anti-Asian hate crimes demands attention, even if the numbers are small both in absolute and relative terms. So let’s dig into the phenomenon further. We know who the victims are, but who are the perpetrators and what are the crimes?

According to the New York Times, the NYPD does have data about the identity of perpetrators in 2020. Of the 20 anti-Asian hate crimes in which arrests were made, eleven arrested were black, five were Hispanic, two were Black Hispanic, and two were white. This tracks with the FBI’s 2019 hate crimes data, and it tracks with anecdotal reporting of 2020 and 2021 incidents. And the Times has noted that so many of the perpetrators of these alleged hate crimes are either homeless, mentally ill, or both.

As to the crimes, the vast majority of hate crimes (against all victims) were verbal intimidation/simple assault (eighty percent) or vandalism (seventy-five percent). StopAAPIHate has added the category of “shunning/avoidance” which accounted for twenty percent of its reports.

I will spare my friends a long litany of specific events, categorized as hate crimes by activists and the media, which failed to be so upon further scrutiny. A large number are simple robberies or assaults where no evidence of hate, except for the ethnicity of the victim, was ever introduced. Some attacks do include language which supports a hateful intent, but when the perpetrator is mentally ill, can we rely on their words?

So are all these incidents wrong? No. The most famous ones do not stand up to scrutiny, but there was a trend towards slightly increasing anti-Asian hate incidents going back for four years. Is the trend overblown by activists and the media? Probably.

I have little doubt more people are making more hateful statements today than yesterday. One need only check social media to confirm it. The social fabric in the States is wearing thin, and people are increasingly escalating encounters. Those with whom you disagree are not just wrong, they’re evil, why, maybe even Nazis! If someone looks askance at you, they might be “dissin'” you, and you don’t have to put up with that in 2021, do you? Activists talk about “getting in people’s faces” and even small disagreements become political battlegrounds. The other day in the States, my dear wife made the mistake of asking a woman (at a public park) whether she had lost her face mask; the woman’s response assumed my wife was attacking her for not wearing one, when actually my wife had just found a mask, and the rest of that woman’s family was wearing masks, so she thought she was about to do a good deed. Not in this day and age.

Long ago, I was a daily runner, which meant I ended up running in places like aboard a ship in Kattegat, on the rolling plains of Kansas, in smoggy Budapest and uber-urban Tokyo. In three of those locations, the sight of a lanky, six foot-plus white guy running around merited just odd looks. It was only in the States where I had cars on rural roads cross the centerline toward me, strangers toss trash at me, or carloads of teenagers hang out the windows and swear at me. And that was back in the well-meaning twentieth century! So do I believe there is more hatred now? Sure.

Is there an epidemic of specifically anti-Asian hate? Probably not. And can the increase be tied to former President Trump? Only if you believe in a secretive cabal of New Yorkers, Californians, Blacks, Hispanics and even Asians waiting to follow his lead. No, there is something deeper going on here, and I promise to cover that in the near future.

Everything You Know is Wrong (VIII): The Crusades

Valparaiso University is a small Lutheran school in northern Indiana which recently decided to abandon its athletic team name, the Crusaders, because the term suggests “aggressive religious oppression and violence.” What’s your first reaction to the word “crusade?” What about the term “crusader?”

There have been a series of academic or popular works which have revised public perceptions of the Crusades. First and foremost was Stephen Runciman’s 1950s era, three-volume history of the Crusades. Terry Jones of Monty Python fame relied on this work for his BBC series “Crusades.” And no hall of shame would be complete without Ridley Scott’s execrable movie Kingdom of Heaven (2005). What do they all have in common? “Terrible history yet wonderfully entertaining” as one historian put it.

What is/was the misconception? The Crusades were a series of aggressive wars launched by a backward, religiously-fanatic West against a more peaceful, civilized East. Crusaders were a motley array of Kings in search of new domains, 2nd or 3rd sons of nobles (hence without title or prospects) seeking wealth, and peasants desperate enough to join, spurred on by fanatical clergy eager to make money off the endeavors. This toxic mix made Crusaders an intolerant, blood-thirsty, and rapacious force that broke the laws of war (as they were). Did I miss anything?

The funny thing is, the Crusades lasted 700 years (1095-1798), and happened at a time when common people, nobles, and the Church actually wrote about their lives and kept records. And little of what I described above comports with the historical record.

Let’s start with what was a “Crusade.” Like bowling, there were rules!

There were four rules for a crusade:

The Pope had to call for, or endorse, it.
Participants “took the cross,” an oath that they would not relent, or give up until the specific goal of the Crusade was achieved (and there was a specific goal). The Crusaders then sowed a red cross onto their clothes signifying their oath.
Crusaders were promised that the lands and families they left behind were under protection of the Church (not insignificant when lords were constantly prowling to poach each other’s lands). They were exempt from many tolls and charges en route, and could expect the hospitality of the Church and the faithful on the way.
Upon successful completion, crusaders were awarded an indulgence (a form of pardon for sins).

Why are these formal aspects of a crusade important? Various individuals or groups initiated their own crusades, or tried to tack alongside Crusader armies without “taking the cross.” These unauthorized crusades committed atrocities against Jewish communities, sacked towns, and robbed civilians. The Church criticized these efforts, suppressed them, and excommunicated those participating. Yet some historians started including these events in histories of the Crusades!

Were the Crusades aggressive or defensive? Islam had overrun the Holy Land by force in 637 Christian Era (CE). For the next four centuries, Islamic leaders permitted a steady stream of Christian pilgrims to visit the holy sites in Jerusalem, including the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. In 1009 CE, a Fatimid Caliph ordered the destruction of the Church and other Christian sites, which caused a great outcry in Christian Europe, although the Caliph’s son permitted its rebuilding in 1048 CE. When the Seljuk Turks captured the Holy Land, they commenced persecuting Christian communities, culminating in the slaughter of twelve-thousand defenseless pilgrims outside Jerusalem in 1065 CE. The Seljuks defeated the Orthodox Byzantines at Manzikert and pushed toward Constantinople, and in 1095 CE Pope Urban II called the First Crusade to secure a safe path across Asia Minor to the Holy Land, and to liberate Jerusalem. If not defensive, this Crusade certainly had just cause.

Were the Crusades authentically religious, or was that only a pretense for economic motives? This is one of the most scurrilous charges, one easily believed by moderns, and one overwhelmingly disproved by the records. Over the centuries, Westerners have gone from believing in fighting for religion, to not believing in fighting over religion, to not believing in religion, to not believing anyone could ever believe in fighting over religion. But the Crusades happened during the first of these belief systems.

Runciman et al promulgated the notion that the Crusades were for the extension of kingdoms and the wealth of 2nd and 3rd sons. The problems with these assertions are manifold. First, the historical records show the vast majority of nobles “taking the cross” were eldest sons, those who had the most to lose. Kings and nobles alike went bankrupt just in paying to get their crusader armies to the Holy Land, and this was not unexpected. The many wars of Medieval Europe usually ended with all sides in economic ruin, and at least there, there was a chance to occupy nearby territory. On top of this, armies generally lost more troops to disease than combat, and travel involved inevitable new disease encounters. The most likely outcome for any crusader–rich or poor– was known when they “took the cross”: death by sickness or the sword in a far off place. Of the 60,000 crusaders in the First Crusade, only 300 knights and 2,000 common men lived to occupy Jerusalem.

Why take such a vow? Faith, supplemented by the possibility of an indulgence. Whatever you think of the practice of indulgences, they are only compelling IF one believes in Heaven and Hell. Faith is the consistent refrain in the contemporaneous writings of noble and commoner alike. Could they have been posturing for history? Perhaps. Did some have mixed motives? Probably. But for the vast majority, the cause was simple.

Were the Crusaders uniquely violent? This charge sometimes relies on the actions of the faux crusades and crusaders I mentioned earlier. But the most glaring piece of evidence is the Crusaders’ behavior after they captured Jerusalem, killing everyone in the city until “the streets ran ankle-deep with blood” or the Temple mount ran with blood “up to the knees” as quoted by former President Clinton in a post 9-11 speech at Georgetown University. Historians have demonstrated the mathematical and geometric impossibility of this claim, traced the gradual exaggeration over decades as eyewitness accounts were embellished, and generally debunked them using Muslim sources.

The point remains: many people died after the Crusaders broke through the walls. But this was Medieval siege warfare. Cities were offered the chance to surrender and let inhabitants flee. This happened at Jerusalem. The remaining Muslims and Jews–who fought side-by-side–were considered combatants, and any who surrendered after the walls were breached were subject to summary execution or enslavement. This was the way of war for the Christians and the Muslims in those times: surrender at first, and live as you were with a new ruler. Surrender while besieged and live to suffer the spoils of war. Fight on until the walls are breached and die or be enslaved. While it seems barbaric, remember that the attackers generally suffered huge losses in the breach; the Crusader army at Jerusalem appears to have suffered about thirty percent casualties in the attack. It is unspeakable by modern standards, but was not unique at the time.

How did the First Crusade ever succeed? First and foremost, the Muslim world was rent at the time by a series of deaths which left the various factions at war with one another. Second, the Crusader armies were tough and resilient.The Crusaders spent four years marching from various locations in Europe to regroup in Byzantine territory and set off across modern-day Turkey. There they fought off numerous Seljuk armies, successfully laid siege to several port cities (establishing a sea-line of communication and supply), and ended up outside the walls of Jerusalem almost four years later. After capturing it, they withstood a countersiege by Fatimid armies before establishing the various small Crusader states in the Holy Land. Finally, the Crusaders had a huge advantage in that they were highly motivated by the goal of capturing Jerusalem, while the Muslim defenders were much less so.

Wait, how can that be? Isn’t Jerusalem one of Islam’s holiest sites? Well, yes and no. Jerusalem is not mentioned (by either its Hebrew or Arabic names) in the Qur’an. There is a mention of the Prophet Mohammed’s night journey to the “furthest mosque,” a title accorded to the al-Aqsa mosque on the Dome of the Rock (aka, the Temple Mount) in Jerusalem. The problem with that is that when the Prophet would have journeyed there (610 CE), there was a Byzantine Christian church on the site, but no mosque. The claims of al Quds (Jerusalem) as the “furthest mosque” really began after Muslim armies captured Jerusalem in 638 CE. So while the city had some import, it wasn’t the same for Muslim defenders and Crusader besiegers.

What led to the none-too-subtle shading of Crusades history? Salah al-din (a Kurd, by the way) famously emasculated the Crusader presence in the Holy Land in 1187 CE, and Islamic histories treated the period as a minor footnote, likening the Crusader presence to a temporary event of little significance. Likewise, Christian Europe lauded the individual crusaders but eventually came to see the overall enterprise as a failure. The Crusades became a historical trivia item, both East and West.

During the post World War II movement toward decolonization, however, activist academics cited the existing European colonies as modern-day Crusader states, and Arab nationalists grabbed hold of the claim, using it to bolster the cause of self-determination. The Crusades became a lens for arguing modern discontents, well beyond the historical record. Modern secular academics had a perfect foil in the Crusades: violent Catholic religious fanatics bent on subjugation against a peaceful, more enlightened Muslim opponent, who eventually prevailed.

So, the Crusaders certainly share a unique spot in military history. Are the Crusades something worth celebrating, or not? That is certainly a point for debate, but one that should be informed by the actual record, not a Monty Python skit version of history.

Bring on the Vaccine Passports

Disclaimer: as an expat and a frequent world traveler, I have a lot to gain by the institution of a globally-accepted vaccine passport system. That said, please allow me to explain why even a someone who has never left their hometown would also benefit from such a regimen.

We’re entering the Coronavirus Endgame, where we reverse-the-snap and bring life back to where it was in early 2019. Things will of course be different–they should be–but the weirdness, isolation, and fear will be gone. To extend the Marvel Avengers metaphor, the vaccines are like the first 45 minutes of Endgame, where our heroes find Thanos and kill him, only to realize nothing changes. The vaccine is not the snap; we have to figure out how to get back to normal.

Why is that? The virus isn’t going away; the current betting in the medical community is it will become endemic, like the cold and flu, always there waiting to make someone sick. Vaccines provide protection, but not perfect protection. Some people with weaker immune response will still get sick and be contagious. And we don’t know how long our immunity is good for: the clock is running, and people immunized in the early trials are still not getting sick, so we’re (just a swag here) probably good for a year, and counting. But it’s unlikely this immunity is forever, so we’ll need to keep practicing things we hated from 2020: masks and social distancing and fever checks and hand sanitizing and elbow-shakes and so forth.

So what good did vaccination do? Well, it greatly reduced the risk of getting sick/hospitalized/dying. And since there is less risk, governments may be willing to allow more mobility and fewer restrictions. The obvious implication is for international travel; right now, US citizens can travel to most of the Western Hemisphere and Africa, along with a few other locations. Likewise, few foreigners can come to the US. A viable vaccine passport could loosen those restrictions.

What about the complaint that a vaccine passport is another government restriction on our freedom? Well, it’s true, it is. In fact, it already is, and has been for almost ninety years. All governments reserve the right to refuse entry to sick people; the only difference is whether the governments are screening for illness (now they are). Many of us already have a vaccine passport: the World Health Organization (WHO) “yellow card” which was a necessary part of foreign travel for decades. If you traveled internationally back in the last millennium, or were in the US Armed Forces or Peace Corps, you have this form. So the concept is not new and not another restriction; it’s the same restriction that always was, you just either didn’t know about it, or forgot about it.

NaTHNaC - Polio vaccination certificate — The International Certificate of Vaccination or Prophylaxis ICVP): pretty old school!

Why not just use the WHO certificate? It is a yellow piece of paper with scribbling on it, from the quaint old days when faking it was considered unlikely (“You want to go to the Amazon without a Yellow Fever inoculation? Go right ahead, and who’s your next of kin?”). Using it today would invalidate the entire concept, since any damn fool with a color printer and Photoshop could make one up.

So we need something digital and secure and updatable and widely-accepted across the globe. This is why the US federal government should be leading the charge. I would like to know what President Biden is doing about this, as it falls squarely in an area where he should be leading, but I have heard nothing about it. Why should the airlines or the EU or Israel be the places to develop this concept?

What if you don’t travel, never had the WHO card, and really don’t care if I can traipse around the globe? Fair point! You too have much to gain. As medicine continues to learn what the risks are with respect to immunity, mutation, side-effects, boosters, and transmission rates, governments will become more comfortable in relaxing some rules based on vaccination. And this will require some readily acceptable, common way to prove it: a vaccine passport. Just like the immigration officer at the airport in London, your dentist, the checkout clerk, your waiter and the baby-sitter will want to know what risk they are entailing in being near you. Will this be forever? No, because eventually people won’t care. How do we know that? Because that’s what happened to the WHO yellow cards; they have never been rescinded, most people just forgot about them, although in a few cases they are still necessary for travel (Yellow Fever being a great example).

For all those folks who are sick-and-tired of masks, your vaccine passport will become a path out of that particular hell. Now, there is no reason the passports have to be mandatory. You can refuse to get the vaccine, and just wait for herd immunity and the end of restrictions. Or, you can get the vaccine and skip getting the passport: you’ll still face restrictions, but you’ll know you are relatively safe. Or you can get the shot and the passport and breathe easy. Choice is a good thing.

Vaccine passports can be an important tool in the transition back to normalcy, both for travel and day-to-day life. And the passport won’t be forever, as I already demonstrated. Sometime in the not too distant future, your passport app will just be a memento of how things were, just like an old face-mask you’ll find crumpled up in a coat pocket. Won’t that be a great day?

What Just Happened? Hate Crimes, Atlanta, & San Francisco

A few blog posts back, I mentioned that the problem with race-consciousness is eventually, when one adopts this worldview, you see racism everywhere. And here we are.

A few days back, a very troubled young man killed eight people in a shooting spree around Atlanta, Georgia. Of course you heard all about it; the only person who didn’t was my wife, who happened to be under dental anesthesia that day, but later had no recollection of the original event or our discussion (“What are you talking about?” was her initial response).

The news script went like this: the suspect was a twenty-one year old white man who was a “religious fanatic” and belonged to an “evangelic group.” He claimed to be a “sex addict” who attacked “massage parlors” to eliminate the “temptation” they presented to him, and he told authorities he was on his way to Florida to attack the “porn industry” when he was apprehended. Six of the eight people killed were women of Asian descent (ages thirty-three to seventy-four years old!) who worked at or owned the massage parlors. A police spokesman, when asked to explain the motivation for the killing spree the day after the attack, related that the suspect “denied having a racial motive,” and when further questioned, the spokesman ad-libbed that maybe the suspect had “a really bad day” which led to the spokesman’s reassignment from his duties. (The quotes above all come from news articles)

Those are the facts of the case as we know it. The media spin was to place this story as the crescendo of a series of anti-Asian hate crimes that began with the killing of eighty-four year-old Vicha Ratanapakdee in San Francisco in January. Media news and commentary opined that the suspect (I am intentionally avoiding using his name in accord with the idea that ignominy deserves no recognition) clearly committed a hate crime, equal parts misogynistic and racial. According to a running count by Andrew Sullivan, the New York Times ran (as of March 19th) nine stories along this line, while the Washington Post went for the gold with sixteen! Network news parroted the same line. A few went so far as to claim white male fetish-sizing of Asian women was the underlying cause, with a dollop of white supremacist violence on top. Those who mentioned the police spokesman did so with incredulity that anyone would be so stupid as to (1) believe what the suspect said his motive was and (2) could ever say anything as stupid as he had “a really bad day.” I saw at least two reports that the removed police spokesman had once tagged a racist meme on social media, calling Covid19 “the virus imported from CHY-na.”

Here’s the New York Times running highlight box

Now what is the rest of the story? It’s still early, but so far not one intrepid reporter has uncovered a single text, tweet, or social media post expressing anti-Asian or anti-woman views by the suspect. In private discussions with his friends (which a few reporters have interviewed), the suspect told them he went to Asian massage parlors not because of race, but because those parlors “were the safest place” to acquire casual sex for money. And he was a repeat customer at two (of the three) places he later attacked. The suspect had long complained of a sex addiction, and had gone to rehab more than once, yet he remained plagued by his inability to control his sexual impulses. His Baptist congregation and his parents were well aware of his continuing struggle. In fact, the night before the attack, the suspect’s parents threw him out of the house, perhaps prompting the police spokesman’s “very bad day” comment.

According to a Times’ story and video, the suspect spent an hour inside his car outside the first parlor, then spent another hour inside the facility before he started shooting. We’ll know eventually what happened before the killing began.

The media coverage of the victims has been of two minds. Some commentators decried the suggestion any of the victims were involved in the sex trade, as if that was attacking the victims. Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms denied any evidence this was the case, but she was sadly mistaken, as the attacked massage parlors were previously targeted by law enforcement and were on the sex rating app RubMaps as locations for prostitution.

Some media noted the ages of the victims and stated this somehow suggested sex was not involved; a simple Google search would reveal a story from SupChina, an all-things-Chinese web service, entitled “Chinese moms in America’s illicit massage parlors” explaining the more than nine-thousand illicit massage parlors in the United States staffed and run by 35-55 year-old Chinese women. It’s an empathetic and personal story about women trying to make ends meet for their children, but it belies the notion that “Asian massage parlors as brothels” are somehow a fantasy imposed by others. The Times even ran an earlier March story (before the attack) confirming the size and illicit activities of these parlors, although that story highlighted the Asian organized crime ties of the industry.

The President and Vice President used a previously-scheduled Atlanta visit to mourn the deaths and decry anti-Asian racist violence, but where in the preceding facts is that racism? The claim seems to go all the way back to the first national case, in San Francisco in January.

Back then Vicha Ratanapakdee, an eighty-four year-old retiree of Thai descent, was taking his daily walk in the Anza Vista neighborhood of San Francisco. Perhaps you saw his story? The unprovoked attack was caught on video and is frankly, shocking. He was violently knocked off his feet and hit his head on a garage door. He died in the hospital days later. His assailant was a nineteen year-old black man named Antoine Watson. The media coverage inevitably cited a rising tide of anti-Asian violence and linked it to former President Trump’s “China virus” tweets, despite any evidence Mr. Watson is a MAGA man or how he was influenced by the President. The local police indicated repeatedly they had no evidence of a racist motive, which was criticized by local activists and ridiculed by the national media.

The apparent ridiculousness of the Trump-Watson connection got me interested, so I waded through tens of cut-and-paste national reports looking for better coverage in the local media. There I found this gem, hidden away by the barrage of the national media narrative:

Watson was “apparently vandalizing a car” when Ratanapakdee looked toward him and changed directions on his walk, (Assistant District Attorney) Connolly said in his detention motion, citing surveillance footage from the scene. The teenager then sprinted “full speed” at Ratanapakdee an instant after the elderly man looked back at him, according to the motion. Ratanapakdee was sent flying backward and landed onto the pavement. A witness told police they heard a voice yell “Why you lookin’ at me?” twice before hearing the apparent impact, prosecutors said. Sliman Nawabi, a deputy public defender representing Watson, disputed the perception that the attack was racially motivated.“There is absolutely zero evidence that Mr. Ratanapakdee’s ethnicity and age was a motivating factor in being assaulted,” Nawabi said. “This unfortunate assault has to do with a break in the mental health of a teenager. Any other narrative is false, misleading, and divisive.” Nawabi said Watson comes from a biracial family that includes Asians and had “no knowledge of Mr. Ratanapakdee’s race or vulnerabilities” since the elderly man was wearing a mask, hat, sweater and jeans.
Michael Barber in the San Francisco Examiner, February 8th, 2021

Oh, and Watson was with a woman named Malaysia Goo, who was at the scene of the attack, was arrested as an accomplice-after-the-fact, but was later released and not charged.

So we have a man of Black-Asian descent with an (possibly) Asian woman, vandalizing a car, seeing a man covered from head-to-toe looking at him. Then the suspect knocks the potential witness off his feet. These are points upon which both the District Attorney and the Public Defender agree. These are points not mentioned by national media piece. It would be easier to find Waldo in a sea of red hats than to find the racism in this story. Yet it remains exhibit #1 of anti-Asian hate.

Some may wonder about the data cited repeatedly showing an increase in anti-Asian hate crimes in recent years. I’ve gone on long enough here, so I’ll save that part of the story for a future post. Suffice it to say there is the media narrative, there are numbers, and there is data, but all three don’t get along well together.

What’s the harm in jumping to conclusions about racism and hate crimes? First and foremost, every debunked or manufactured claim of racism undermines the many real cases of racist violence. Second, hate crimes involve proving a mindset, and any attempt to do so requires examining all the various relationships involved in the crime. It’s a major reason prosecutors don’t like to take hate crimes charges to court. If you want to prove the Georgia man hated Asian American women, you’re going to have to let the defense demonstrate all the ways he “spent time” with them, so to speak. Whose end does that serve? Third and finally, lost in all this nonsense about who-hates-whom-and-why is this simple fact: people were murdered. Which is a serious crime. Innocent people became victims and died at the hands of violent criminals. These are real crimes which call out for real justice, not hate crimes demanding social justice.

A Mexican Fish Tale

Note: various versions of this story circulate out there. As a creative writing exercise, here is mine.

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, before the internet or cell phones, there was a very smart professor. He taught Economics at the Harvard Business School, which is to say that was where he was tenured, for as a world-renowned expert in the study of all things business, he only occasionally did any teaching. He had written many books, all well-received, and was sought out by industry titans and finance rain-makers for his views. A simple hour of his time providing advice could run to five digits, but everyone agreed it was well worth it.

The professor was not only at the top of his profession, he was at the top of his game. He embodied his theories on efficiency and return on investment, which made him quite wealthy and respected by his peers, if not quite such an interesting dinner date. Not that that observation bothered him, since time spent on such activities carried a heavy opportunity cost, broken relationships led to poor efficiency, and broken marriages? Well, he could cite a long litany of successful people who found a way to lose it all in divorce. Hardly a promising investment.

If any doubt about his life choices ever buzzed about his consciousness, he batted it away just as fast. At times, though, some doubts might creep in on a cold north wind blowing across Harvard Square. This was one of those times.

He hadn’t taken any time off, well, since ever. Time off was time lost, and while he could afford any luxury he could imagine, he was unwilling to pay the opportunity cost. Still that cold wind kept hounding him on his way to the office, and he let his mind linger just a bit longer on the idea of taking a short break. He knew the data on productivity gains associated with vacations; he also knew it was only a possibility, not even a probability. Perhaps he could conduct a little personal experiment to see how it applied to someone as efficient and productive as he was?

Safely inside his office and out of his overcoat, he asked his assistant–to her absolute amazement–to research where he could “take a little break from the cold.” The professor laid out a series of parameters, of course: nowhere too exotic, nothing more than a few hours flight, some place warm and quiet and absolutely NOT a tourist destination.

A short while later she returned, with this initial bid: “How about Mexico?”

His dismissal was abrupt and total: “No. What part of NOT-A-TOURIST-TRAP did you fail to get?”

She persisted, “I’m not talking the beach locations. There is a large lake in central Mexico that meets all your requirements: warm, quiet, not touristy, only a few hours flight time.” She passed him printed material about some place called Lake Chapala.

He demurred, if only for the moment. ‘I trained her,’ he thought, and she was good at her job. Perhaps he should give it due consideration. “Thanks, I’ll consider it” was all he said.

And so he did. The more he looked into it, the more he became convinced. It would not be very expensive and his assistant could do all the necessary rescheduling. With his characteristic decisiveness, he set the plans into motion, and only a week later he was on a flight to Guadalajara. The second thoughts arose as the plane left the runway.

The week back was going to be overloaded, he worried, and would be a real test of his improved efficiency. Would he really be able to keep away from work, or at least from thinking about work? What if the weather was bad, or the food not to his liking? So much was riding on this in his mind.

It didn’t get better as he debarked the plane into the queues for immigration, luggage, and customs: ‘Is there no word for efficiency in Spanish?’ he thought. He was passable enough in the language to hold a conversation, which was another plus to the location, but the question was rhetorical. When he emerged from the secure arrivals area of the airport into the throngs offering everything from taxi rides to trinkets to porterage, he seriously considered turning right around. But he stayed the course, even for an hour-long taxi ride that seemed more like time travel to the 18th century.

Once he settled in to the room at the boutique hotel in Ajijic, he had an odd feeling, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time: relaxation. He opened the curtains and looked out at the peaceful lake, the mountains, the bright blue sky. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘this will work . . . or maybe not-work is the right phrase’ he chuckled to himself.

The next morning he had decided upon a routine: breakfast, delivered to his room, eaten on the veranda, overlooking the lake. Followed by some light reading–nothing work related–until lunch. A short walk around the village and a stop for lunch, back to the room for some crosswords and more reading, perhaps a siesta, then late dinner once again in the village. Delightfully boring. He smiled at the notion he was even packing resting-time into his vacation: efficient as always.

As he sat reading that morning, he noticed a local fisherman wandering out to his boat around ten o’clock. When the professor got back from lunch, the fisherman was pulling his boat back to shore and leaving with a small catch. “Bankers hours for fishermen?” he mused.

The next day the cycle repeated itself, but this time the professor noted the fisherman returned again in the late afternoon and fished into the early evening, with the same meager results. “Twice the travel time for no extra performance,” he began, but pulled himself up short–no business here on vacation!

As the week wore on, the professor became more and more engrossed in the fisherman’s activities: how he stored the boat and nets, where he fished, the size of his catch, the hours spent on the water versus the hours preparing and traveling. The professor passed it off as not-business-related, just an interest in all things local. Toward the end of his vacation, the professor couldn’t contain himself any longer. He saw the fisherman pulling in to shore around two in the afternoon, and he called him over.

“Buenas tardes, señor” he began, “may I ask you a question?”

“Of course” the fisherman replied.

“I have been here all week, and I noticed your coming and going. Why do you start so late in the morning?”

“I stay home for breakfast and see my grandkids off to school.”

“Well, where do you go in the afternoon?”

“School lets out, and I see my grown children, too, then I take care of some tasks from my wife, maybe take a siesta. Finally I come back and finish fishing until dinner.”

“If you came earlier in the morning, packed a lunch, and fished straight through the day, you would catch many more fish. You spend so much time coming and going, loading and unloading.”

“I think you are right. But why catch more fish?”

“You could sell them and buy better nets, or another boat.”

“I see. And then catch even more fish?”

“Exactly!”

The fisherman looked down at his huichol sandals, then over at his boat, pondering his next comment carefully. “Muchas gracias, señor, you have a good idea. I will think about it some more. Adios.” and with that he trundled off.

The next day, the professor kept looking out at the lake in the early morning, to see if the fishermen had arrived. Around ten, the fisherman pulled his boat out onto the lake, then fished until two and came back in, as always. ‘Bad habits are the hardest to break’ the professor thought.

This time, though, the fisherman came walking straight back to where the professor was sitting. “Señor,” he started, “I have been considering what you said, and I have a question.”

“Go ahead, por favor.”

“After I get the boats and nets and catch more fish. Then what?”

“Then you hire people to fish for you on your boats. Maybe set up a small store and sell the fish yourself. Eventually you put in a restaurant, maybe a delivery service. Branch out into charter fishing trips. Who knows? Soon you’ll be el rey del lago (King of the Lake). I am a professor, I provide advice like this at the university. I guarantee that you will make a ton of money and then you can retire.”

“And?”

The professor laughed. “Well, then, I guess we all die. We have a saying up north, ‘there are two things in life that can’t be avoided: death and taxes.'”

Now it was the fisherman’s turn to laugh. “Oh, señor, I am a Mexican. We know that taxes can always be avoided! But death? Who would want to avoid that? Death is like an old friend you only get to see one more time. Here in Mexico, we don’t fear death, and we certainly don’t avoid it . . . look at how we drive! Do you know about our Day of the Dead?”

Visions of skeletons and macabre parades danced across the professor’s mind: strange, semi-pagan rituals fueled by too much tequila, no doubt. “Yes, Dia de Muertos isn’t it?” he replied.

“Yes. One time you must visit here for this fiesta. You will learn something from it!” Then the fisherman turned and shuffled home.

‘That will be the day’ the professor mused.

The next morning was his last before flying home. The professor assumed his position by the shore, and just before ten o’clock, the fisherman appeared and walked straight toward him.

“Buenas dias, señor,” he began

“Buenas dias, amigo,” the professor responded, “have you thought about my advice.”

The fisherman said, “I have thought of nothing else!” which caused the professor to smile a little.

“And?”

“Of course your are right, señor, we both know that. It will all come out exactly as you say.”

“But . . . ?” the professor interjected, sensing the rejection in the fisherman’s voice.

“It was very kind of you to offer this great advice. But I am too busy living to do all that work. I hope you can understand that. I hope you will think about that” he added, emphasizing the word.

“Yes, yes, of course” the professor replied with a resigned-but-friendly tone. “good luck!”

“Que te vaya bien, señor” the fisherman said, and headed to his boat.

Soon the professor was back aboard a plane, tanned, rested, and ready, as it were. His assistant had faxed down some preparatory material, and he devoured it. He was energized like he hadn’t been in years, and the exhilaration continued when he got back to Boston. He hired a second assistant, and wore both out as he endlessly rattled off memos, notes, to-do’s and the like. His productivity spiked, and the increase lasted months, not weeks. Even his colleagues noted how happy he seemed, on top of how productive.

As the Fall loomed in New England, he decided to take another break. There was no sense waiting until the depths of Winter; he would go in early November and beat the rush, then work through the holidays when everyone else wanted time off! So once again he was off on a flight to Guadalajara, but this time he was relaxed before he arrived: nothing to worry about, and he knew how much more productive he would be after the break.

When he emerged the first morning to eat breakfast on the veranda, he noticed the same fishing boat he had seen last year. This time, though, the fisherman did not arrive at ten and still had not arrived when the professor decided to walk into town before lunch. As the professor walked the village’s cobblestone streets, he noticed fewer crowds in the storefronts. He did see families walking in the distance, all heading in the same general direction, and he could hear far-off banda music. He wondered what was going on, so he walked toward the music.

The crowds thickened and led to the panteon, the cemetery. He glanced at his watch: of course, November 1st, Dia de Muertos. ‘I guess the old fisherman got his wish’ he thought. Having come this far, he joined the queue and wandered through the cemetery gate and into a spectacular scene.

Families were gathered around graves, sharing a meal and tending to the sites. A Mariachi band played in the distance. He noticed the small altars, ofrendas, with pictures and candles and mementos, the children playing, people telling stories. The air was clearly festive, and as he walked about, his mind wandered back to his parents and grandparents, his childhood, the funerals he attended. How different this was!

“Señor” a woman’s voice intoned, “may we help you?”

The professor snapped back to reality and realized he had wandered to the foot of a grave-site, smack in the middle of a family gathering!

“Lo siento” he intoned, “I wasn’t paying attention. I was look–” he stopped mid-sentence, as he gazed at the altar in front of the tombstone. On it was a picture of a fisherman and a boat. Not just any fisherman, but the same man he had spoken to just a year earlier. “–ing, err noticing—” his voice trailed off.

His mind raced. Was that the fisherman? He was used to speaking in front of large audiences, used to being the very picture of self control, unperturbed. Yet he felt himself standing there, speechless, and realized his mouth was still open though no words were emerging.

“Esta bien, señor” the woman said soothingly, noting the man’s apparent shock: “did you know my Francisco?”

The professor still had not regained his composure: “Yes, errrr, no, I mean not well. We met last year when I was here on vacation. We talked about work and things . . . ” again his voice trailed off.

“Of course, señor. You must be the professor! He told us all about you.” the woman said.

“He did?” A fleeting sense of pride helped the professor briefly recover his bearings.

“Yes, he told us he met a professor–a very intelligent man–who had excellent ideas about how to grow a business. He said he was sad to tell you he could not follow your advice, but that you would understand one day.”

Listening to the woman’s matter-of-fact voice, he felt his normal confidence returning. “well, then, thank you for sharing that. I am sorry for your loss, but I must be going. Sorry to intrude!” he said, hoping to make good his escape and complete his recomposure.

“No, not at all,” she replied, “after all, we were expecting you, in way.” She passed the professor a plate with some tacos.

Panic edged back into the corners of his consciousness, but a lifetime of cynicism held it in check: “Expecting me? Seriously? And how is that?” he said with a little bit of edge, as he took the plate.

“Francisco was sick in bed for several weeks before he died. One time, he reminded me about his meeting you. He said he gave you some advice, and you promised to consider it. He told me you were very educated, so someday you would figure it out, and you would come back here.” She poured some tequila into a small glass and handed it to him.

The professor gulped the tequila and repeated aloud “He gave me some advice” as the vertigo threatened to return. ‘I gave him advice, and he rejected it. What advice did he give me?’ he thought. He mentally rewound the tape of their encounters, and there it was. He suddenly felt a sense of peace, not just relaxation, but a more wholesome sense of accomplishment, something like completing a difficult crossword puzzle.

The fisherman’s wife refilled the professor’s tequila. The look on his face had completely changed, although he had uttered not a word. “Yes, yes he did. And he was right, I did figure it out, thanks to him. To Francisco!” he said and drained the tequila in a toast.

“Now I really must be going.” the professor said as he handed back his plate and glass.

“To work?” the woman asked?

“No, I’m too busy living to do all that work” he replied.

Mexican Expat Myths #5: You don’t need to learn Spanish

This little gem gets trotted out lakeside from time-to-time. Someone will ask on social media “do I have to learn Spanish before I retire to Lake Chapala” or “can I get by with buenas this-and-that?” A few starchy old male expats in t-shirts sitting on the terraza harrumph back with why one must speak Spanish or why it’s only polite or just “stay out of my country” (that last one is always a little confusing).

It is absolutely true that lakeside, like the tourist havens, has plenty of English-speaking local residents. And plenty of bilingual expats to help out. The tourist sites actually prefer you speak English, because they have gone to the trouble of hiring bilingual staff and the one thing they want is a great customer experience (and review), not one that recalls the time your high school Spanish failed you and the mesera almost slapped you when you asked her if she was embarazada after spilling your drink (look it up, if you must).

Lakeside has many English-language amenities: churches and newspapers and clubs and the Lake Chapala Society and restaurants and drivers and tour companies and body shops and a special mercado and lawyers and real estate agents and bars and nightclubs and delivery services and all of them cater to English-speaking (only) expats. So it’s easy to believe you’re in some part of borderland Texas, or California, or even Florida where you don’t really need to speak Spanish.

But it is limiting. You see, the English-speaking veneer at lakeside is just that: a thin covering. Drive a few miles outside it, and try your “can you understand me if I shout?” bilingualism and you’ll get smiles and stares. People will try to help you, if they can figure out what you want. And that’s ok. But if you wander into a real Mexican restaurant, they may not understand your pantomime for less-spicy salsa. If you go driving around the many cultural or historical sites of Mexico, you might not understand whether the attraction is closed for an hour or for the day. Your legal documents are in Spanish with an ingles translation, and only the español is authoritative. If the police stop you, or you need an ambulance away from home, well, you get the point. You can travel (with a guide). You can go shopping (with a bilingual friend). You can attend the government bureaucracy (with a fixer). But you’re limited by what you don’t know: Spanish.

Which is not to say there aren’t a sizable number of expats who know a few Spanish words (the polite ones) or none at all and they still enjoy the expat life lakeside. It limits your travel areas, your circle of friends, your lifestyle. But there is still plenty to experience here.

Final judgment: You don’t need to learn Spanish: this is a tough one. How best to nuance it? You don’t need to be polite, either, but wouldn’t you rather be?

Mexican Expat Myths #4: Mexicans never say no

Expat version of a Dad joke:

Expat (to Mexican amigo): “Do Mexicans ever say ‘no’?”

Mexican amigo: “¡No!”

Sorry for that, but it had to be said.

It’s a common observation among expats that Mexicans don’t like to say a flat “no.” They consider it a bit rude, and it leads to cultural friction with gringos who are more accustomed to direct language. It all goes back to the importance of being educado, which can mean either educated or well-mannered (the latter in this case). Ask a Mexican amigo if you’re invited to the party, and you’ll find yourself invited to the party–even if it was a family-only affair before. It’s just the polite thing to do.

In some instances, this avoidance of “no” leads to unusual outcomes. For instance, order a beer at a restaurant and if they find they are out of stock, they might not come back and tell you “no,” they might send someone down the street to the liquor store to buy that beer for you. In other cases, it’s just frustrating. We contacted a local smithy about a metal frame artwork we wanted done, and he told us yes he could do it, and then came out and took measurements. And then . . . crickets. No response, no estimate, nada. Maybe he was too busy, maybe it was too hard; we’ll never know, except we never heard “no.”

The one exception which proves the rule is Mexican bureaucracy, where “no” is a common response. As in “no, a color copy is not acceptable” or “no, you don’t have a full copy of your CFE bill including the pages that are nothing but advertising” or “no, the written amount on this check is hyphenated incorrectly.” The French may have invented bureaucracy (and remember, it was an improvement over previous forms of administration), but Mexico has made it its own. If bureaucracy was an Olympic sport, Mexico would always medal.

Sometimes “no” comes out as “yes.” Sometimes it comes out as a reluctant “yes.” Sometimes it comes out as “maybe later” or “maybe never.” But it rarely comes out as “no.” As an expat, you can get annoyed about it, just accept it, or embrace it as charmingly polite. But it won’t change.

Final judgment: Mexicans never say “no.” Mostly True.

Mexican Expat Myths #3: You are safe in Mexico

When a fellow American learns we live in Mexico, the first question is always the same: “Is it safe?” I want to sponsor a contest for the wittiest response because I am sooooooooooo tired of saying just “yes.” Some examples:

“No, but the cartel I work for has great fringe benefits.”
“Yes, as long as your chauffeur keeps his Uzi fully loaded.”
“No, but the FBI and I have a disagreement about firearms possession.”
“Yes, and that Wall is going to really cut down on illegal Americans!”

Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments.

All of which begs the question. Let’s look at some facts.

More Americans expats live (1.5 million) or visit as tourists (35 million before the pandemic) in Mexico than any other country on earth. More Americans die (238 in 2018) in Mexico every year than any other country on earth, and of those murdered, exactly half were killed in Mexico! Mexico’s murder rate (19 per 100,000) is roughly four times America’s. Oh, and there’s that little problem of drug cartel violence: have you heard about it? No, really, there are drug cartels running around with automatic weapons, armored vehicles and even rocket propelled grenades!

Now let’s look beyond the numbers. The total number of Americans who died in Mexico comprises roughly one-third homicides and two-thirds accidental deaths, which include large numbers of drownings and traffic accidents. The latter two types are fueled, literally, by the excessive drinking which characterizes American tourist behavior in Mexico. Let’s face it, the American ideal of a Mexican tourist vacation is a palapa on a sunny beach with unlimited drinks. This is not unique to Mexico, but because of the large numbers of Americans visiting, it drives up the absolute numbers of tourist deaths.

The homicide total for Americans in Mexico runs under one hundred annually, among 35 million tourists and 1.5 million expats. That comes out to .2 per 100,00 or the same murder rate as Japan, which has the lowest murder rate in the world. Many of those murder victims are dual (Mexican and American) nationals. Very few are expats. Some are tourists. How can a country with such a high rate of criminal violence and murder have so few American victims?

Most of the answer stems from the nature of cartel violence in Mexico. The vast majority of the violence is inter- or intra-cartel violence, followed closely by cartel violence against Mexico’s legal authorities. If you’re involved in the drug business, you (and even your family) are fair game. Same goes for the police and military fighting against the cartels. Yet all sides try to avoid killing the uninvolved; the cartels even go to great lengths (giving out aid during the pandemic, for example) to curry public favor. Which is not to say innocent people don’t get caught in the crossfire; they do. But most of the violence is targeted and people learn to avoid the places or activities which might get one in the cross-hairs. There have been two famous fatal attacks near the border that involved cartels mistakenly targeting a Mexican family (permanent US residents driving an American-plated car) and the infamous November 2019 slaughter of American Mormon expats. In both cases the vehicles were on deserted roads in cartel country and were mistaken for rival gangs, despite desperate attempts by the victims to explain who they were.

(Warning: Explicit lyrics) “it comes that way at least that’s what they say when you play the game”

Expats learn certain neighborhoods, certain streets, certain houses are places to avoid. There is a huge difference between crime in the tourist zones and nearby in the Mexican neighborhoods. You can find references to crimes in Cancun (the town) that have nothing to do with Cancun (the tourist zone). Tourists, drinking and looking for the next party in the wee hours of the morning, are more likely to stumble into a bad situation. But even then, only sixty-seven Americans were murdered in all of Mexico in 2018. That’s a bad week in Chicago.

The isthmus that looks like the number “7” is the tourist zone; the city of Cancun is at upper left.

And of that total, some were caught up in the drug business: remember, if you buy, sell, transport or visit places where drug transactions occur, you are part of the game. Cartels will still try to avoid killing gringos, but only because it’s bad for business, and it’s clear nobody (the cartels, the Mexican government, the American government, people in general) treats the numbers of incidental American deaths as a crisis.

To wrap it all up: stay (mostly) sober, don’t drive at night (because of cows, not cartels), don’t flash cash or jewelry, and avoid drugs and bad neighborhoods. Sounds like good advice for everywhere, no? Do this, and Mexico is about as dangerous as Japan (or Mayberry). Don’t do these things, and it gets marginally more dangerous, but still not very.

Final judgment: Expats (and tourists) are safe in Mexico: Mostly True.