Last week, I walked into a bakery in the heart of San Miguel de Allende.
I was not looking for a full loaf of bread, a sandwich or some elaborate pastry. I just wanted a small piece of sourdough that I could slice open and add some sandwich meat to. Nothing fancy, nothing special.
I found what I was looking for quickly. That was the easy part. Next came ordering; that was the hard part.
I arrived in San Miguel de Allende nearly three weeks ago to start a journalism internship with Mexico News Daily. I came to Mexico with next to no Spanish skills. I studied the language for five years in middle and high school, but easy access to Google Translate (especially during the COVID-19 pandemic years) stunted my language development. I tried again to learn more in the months before I left, but it was nowhere near enough to feel comfortable having a conversation with a native speaker.
So here I was muttering “puedo tener…?” while pointing at the bread because I did not know how to say “sourdough.” It was not until later that I found out that starting with “quiero” is a more apt lead-in while ordering, at least for a foreigner. The cashier rang me up and asked me if I wanted anything else in rapid Spanish. I was only able to catch the word “algo,” which luckily I knew. I told her no, and then she told me the price.
The amount was not too much of a concern to me because, like a true American, I had no interest in fumbling through my wallet to count my change and pay in cash. I tapped my card on a payment worth about US $0.30 and went on with my day.
It was not until later while lying in my bed struggling to fall asleep that I thought back on that interaction. How disrespectful am I for coming to a foreign country for nine weeks while barely having a grasp on the language? Am I also being rude for using a credit card on a tiny purchase in a place where cash is the norm?
Many Americans, especially in our ever-polarizing society, detest hearing other languages or broken English spoken in the United States, despite most Americans being unable to speak other languages. I came to San Miguel knowing it was a tourist town where I could get by with English, but I never expected that locals would cater to my language. I realized that back home, I never made the effort to make my servers’ lives easier, while they learned one of the most complicated languages in the world to help mine.
Is that me being rude or them being nice? Do they dislike that they have to speak a language they are less comfortable with just to make a sale worth 30 cents?
My Spanish has certainly improved after spending three weeks in Mexico, but it’s no different than a baby learning to walk. At first, I could take one step without falling, now it’s two. Hopefully, by next week it will be three or four, and maybe I will be able to have part of a conversation before I head back home.
There is more to Mexico than Spanish and credit cards, however. This is a nation rich with culture and passion, filled with its own norms that American travelers have a habit of not respecting. Back in the United States, I dressed like an American. I wore merch of sports teams I supported on a daily basis, whether it was my hometown team or my current university. I knew before I came to Mexico that most people wore pants, even in the summer, and that plainer shirts were more common. So I bought new clothes.
That is not to say that I am in tune with everything. I often find myself more scared to get something wrong in Spanish than to try and get it right. So I sometimes stop myself from saying good morning or good afternoon, scared that I will get them mixed up. I can skip out on saying basic phrases because I am more concerned with getting my lunch order right. What does this say about me?
I still can not help but feel some guilt for coming to live in a foreign country where I cannot speak the language. Am I less rude because I am one of many in San Miguel who get by with English, or more rude because I have the upper hand of being able to speak my native language in my non-native country?
In reality, it depends on who you ask.
Mexico is famous for being welcoming to foreigners. Almost everyone that I have encountered has been warm, but Mexicans clearly are more comfortable when I am able to speak to them in Spanish.
Yet I have still met expats, some who have lived in San Miguel for multiple years, who barely speak any Spanish. In San Miguel, specifically, there truly is no need for it, but to me, learning Spanish is a show of respect for the local culture.
That raises even more questions. Is this a modern American ideal about responsible tourism? Does that norm exist in Mexico? Am I overthinking all of this?
My overthinking caused me to head to a bank the morning after my struggles in the bakery and exchange some of my USD for pesos. The cash has been useful when I buy snacks at OXXO or at the local market. But again, does using peso bills to pay instead of a card actually matter?
Mexicans’ opinions of Americans have plummeted since the rise of Trump 2.0, in large part due to the United States’ rhetoric toward Mexico and its migrants. But speech, as we’ve seen, is far from harmless. On July 7, another Mexican citizen was killed by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in the United States. Can you imagine the outrage if an American citizen were killed by the government in Mexico? Can you imagine the military response? The lawsuits and the thinkpieces? It’s no wonder that American travelers might encounter apathy from locals while traveling abroad.
This makes me feel like I should be more respectful while in Mexico, especially considering the abuse of Mexicans living in the United States under the Trump administration. Here, I can roam freely through public parks and churches with no fear of the Mexican government kidnapping me and throwing me in the back of a truck. Many would not be allowed to do the same in the U.S. right now. How do I reckon with that?
I have encountered local people who are happy to serve me and are satisfied with my knowing basic Spanish words at a restaurant. I have met other locals who have told me that they think it is disrespectful that people come to live in San Miguel without having a grasp on local norms.
That’s what makes San Miguel a middle ground for these questions. It is a town both full of locals and full of tourists, unlike Cabo, which is dominated by all-inclusive resorts that only exist for vacationers. I am not here to stay, but I am in town for a significant length of time. I am here to work, but I am also here to explore and snap some photos.
Does my unfamiliarity make me disrespectful? Maybe. Some would say yes. Some would say no.
The chances of me becoming even conversational in Spanish throughout the next nine weeks are slim, and I certainly should have put more effort into it before I made the trip. But now I am here, and I am willing to try. I can go to the bank and get some cash, which is better for local businesses. I can continue observing and talking to locals about respectful customs when ordering food or walking down the street. I can try and speak in Spanish when I can.
That might not make me respectful, but it should count for something — at least in my American mind.
Jared Tucker is a summer intern at Mexico News Daily in San Miguel de Allende and a rising senior at the University of Washington in Seattle, where he is the sports editor for The Daily UW. He was previously a fellow at TheFulcrum.us, where he covered public participation in American democracy.
