Marrying into the New Mexican family

Dios ayúdame...

I have many new subscribers for the health and fitness side of things, probably thinking, “what the hell is this?” Sorry, use the search tab on the home page for subjects like; shoulder, low back pain, protein, weight loss, etc. Me making fun of myself drives an equal amount of traffic to this site as the health realm.

Yes, this article is in the vein of John Nichols’ books, who I’m an immense fan of, but these stories are my own.

I’m a Masshole, and moved to New Mexico in ‘94. In ‘07, I married my wife in a modest hall, but with a big name Spanish band. When I was a kid, weddings were a boring affair we didn’t want to be a part of. New Mexican weddings are a party. People we didn’t invite showed up.

My fiancé sat me, her father and brother down, and lectured us sternly that we were not to get ripping drink. Guess who got schnockerd? Oh, it was her cousins, who are numerous, and each had to buy her a shot. She had to be carried to the room, and not in a romantic way. It was an awesome reception though.

When I moved here, I was taught to say Spanish, not Mexican. One friend’s uncle likes to drink a little, and then go off on this rant about “What’s more likely? That we sailed thousands of miles from Spain, or rode a burrow a few hundred miles North?”

I've decided to say New Mexican culture, not that I care about any woke backlash. I think New Mexican is the accurate description; Spanish, Mexican, Pueblo, Native American, etc. Or maybe I shouldn’t say “etc,” lest I sound like “Latin X” (political morons…could you be any more disconnected? Even this Yankee knows better). The state pledge states, “perfect friendships, among united cultures.” Uh, not quite. A lofty goal though.

Everything in the family is a joke, and teasing is constant. I was not allowed to say shut up growing up in my family. Funny, it just pours out of my mouth now. Survival? Don’t give a shit what they think about you, they’ll respect you more for it. If you try too hard in the beginning, it’s like blood in the ocean.

I get a pass in the front office where I work, because they know what I married into. I'm allowed to say any disparaging “New Mexican” story I want, and they want to hear more, and add their own.

New Mexican families have their own medical care. It involves putting Vicks, on in or near multiple orifices, and the bottoms of your feet. I asked our Anglo allergist if this works. Without any eye roll, he suggested on the kids’ chest might work better.

The cooking is phenomenal, and better than any restaurant. Since this is supposed to be a health and wellness blog, I will tell you New Mexican home cuisine is not good for your waistline. “I’m ashamed, and proud” is a line I’ve heard uttered after dinner. Cooking is social and cultural. The family will sit around the table and eat and drink for hours. They were nice enough to buy this gringo a butt cushion. I can’t keep up in any manner; eating, drinking or gossiping.

If I step into the kitchen, or am heading our for a hike, it’s “what do you need, what are you looking for, do you want to take __________(enter a dozen different items here)?”

Early in our marriage, I went out to get lunch by myself during the work week. We weren’t at work together. “You were on the other side of town, I only had 30 minutes…”, I said. Doesn't matter. “You got food without me?” Then later to other family, “he’d didn't even get me anything…”

Speaking of guilt, religion is similar to the Irish Catholics I grew up around. A little more convenience, and a little less conviction. “Laugh now, Cry later” is the mantra of the land, like a Shakesperian tragedy. They know how to have a good time. A grand daughter asked grandma why she no longer went to church. “Because I never sin”, came the reply.

It can be a large extended family. Some uncles asked me if I hunt. The answer was no, so the conversation ended there. I’ve met distant cousins, wearing nine inch knives, while I introduce myself as the single Anglo in the family. In the middle of the woods. In the middle of nowhere. I don’t remember them saying hi, just staring.

Birthdays, kindergarten graduations, and lesser holidays are a big deal. Some kids are in three piece suits for class pictures, and receive a bouquet of roses at school for Valentines Day. Why not celebrate children so much?

Home improvement projects are a committee. While my father in law is up on the ladder and roof, my wife and mother in law are giving him directions on roofing. That’s funny, I didn’t know they know roofing. He should be listening to their advice, but seems to just be ignoring them.

New Mexican families don’t know what hotels are. I called up a friend, and asked if I could crash at his place for the night. “Sure, of course.” I show up and am mortified that half his extended family is also staying the night. “Dude, why didn’t you tell me, I could’ve gotten a room.” Nonsense. “What’s one more?” he says with a smile. The hospitality is amazing. The other family members could care less.

Visiting other family members is also very comfortable. 4pm? Time to change into pajamas and start drinking.

Will the family be pissed off by this article? They don’t read what I write. Or anyone else’s stuff. My wife went on and on about some New Mexican culture books. “You should read them.” And I did, because I love to read, and they were amazing, and I started talking to her about the stories…”Oh, I never read them,” came the reply. “I didn't have to, I lived them.”

“How did you end up in this situation?”, you may ask.

Have you seen my wife’s smile?

I didn’t stand a chance.

By the way, if you accuse me of “cultural appropriation”… shut up. It’s appreciation.