Image courtesy of www.lonelyplanet.com
The taco is one of humanity’s great inventions. I put it up there with electricity and the light bulb. In fact, if I had to choose, I would be eating a taco in the dark right now. This is why I am so blessed to be writing you from the taco capital of the world, Mexico City. The city of 22 million plus residents is home to ten times as many tacos. If you tried to walk a city block without passing a single taco stand, you would be standing still a very long time. The taco literally makes this city go around.
But in addition to providing sustenance for the city’s dwellers, the army of taco stands also carries much deeper meanings about the culture of Mexico at large. Sharing meals is a cultural norm that has the power to bring people together in ways that politicians and religious leaders would die for. The public taco stand is no different. At all hours of the day, these taco stands, or taquerias, gather hungry people from all walks of life. Tacos are cheap, quick, and everywhere, which makes them a popular food choice for the banker and shopkeeper alike. It is a beautiful thing to watch people from various social strata, if even for a few moments, share an intimate space and meal together. A businessman in a suit taps an elderly woman on the shoulder for a napkin, as she asks a nearby teenager to pass some limes. People who are normally separated from one another by seemingly impassable social barriers are brought together by the most basic human desire; hunger.
As a gringo waiting in line for tacos, I constantly feel like an outsider watching this cultural symphony take place. I don’t know all the cultural cues for when to order, where to stand, or who to pay. When my turn finally comes, my confusion about the various options and my hesitancy to butcher the language turns into a lot of pointing and a lot of “mystery tacos”—which always turn out delicious. But the graciousness of Mexican culture and their openness to new faces always overcomes my awkwardness. One of my favorite things about travel is how being in another culture and having to use a foreign language devastates my pride and encourages my humility.
My big take away from the taco stand is that situations that expose and challenge my privilege and cultural assumptions, albeit uncomfortable, are healthy and necessary for growth. Our natural tendency is to erect walls that protect our social differences. We do this with our titles, our organizational structures, our neighborhoods, and even the places we eat. But vulnerability and exposure to the other is the best medicine for maintained mediocrity in inclusion. My love for tacos will never be never be distinguished and these new lessons learned at the taco stand will not be forgotten.
