When my friend called me to tell me that she’d lost my dog, we first had a regular conversation for a full ten minutes. Then came the kicker: “I’m so ashamed to tell you this, but…”
Honestly, I’d personally have lead with, “Hello, I am calling because I lost your dog.” Is time not of the essence in these cases?
But first, we talked about my trip. I told her about the article I was writing. She told me about her week at work. We might have talked about our altar preparations for Day of the Dead.
When I ask another friend if she wants to go out and do something, she never asks if I’ll give her a ride. She says she would love to, only she doesn’t have money for a taxi. Honestly, I’d rather she just say, “I’m a little short on taxi money. Any chance you could pick me up and take me home?”
But this is a cultural preference of mine, and not the cultural preference of most people around me.
My partner manages a popular tap room that’s currently running with only a third of the people they actually need. They hire people often, and those same people leave without a word often. No two-week notice, no “Hey, this isn’t working out for me.” Usually, they simply stop showing up. When they do this, they don’t respond to messages or answer the phone, either.
Final example: a guy once didn’t show up for a date with me because — he told me later — it was raining really hard. But on the day of our date, he didn’t show up or say a word about it: no apology, no excuse. The next week, he wanted to reschedule, assuming an easy forgiveness for a very minor sin. Dude!
Mexicans hate, hate, hate giving bad news. They don’t want you to panic. They don’t want you to sigh in frustration. They especially don’t want you to get mad. They don’t want to tell you “no.”
The ones who are paid to give bad news develop a naturally hardened exterior, I assume to protect their delicate sensibilities. They become the hardened clerks in bureaucratic offices that we dread.
But if they can find a way to soften bad news — or better yet, not say it at all — they will.
For me and many of my compatriots, acting like you’re just going to have a normal conversation before asking for a favor especially seems disingenuous. “You didn’t really want to talk to me, you just wanted to borrow money!”
Okay, but what if they also wanted to talk to you? Mexicans are good at buttering people up, sometimes with what feels like literal butter. Things may be transactional, but that doesn’t mean they have to be unpleasant, right?
Because just coming out and saying things is not usually the best way to do things around here. Not to be crude, but the best metaphor I can think of for pleasantries is… lubricant.
Dive right in, and it will be unpleasant and uncomfortable for the person on the receiving end. It’s practically violent, really. They might hide their grimace, but believe me, it’ll be just under the surface. Don’t have time to have a whole conversation before asking for something or giving information they won’t like? At least start with a “buenos días” or a “buenas tardes.” At least.
Here’s the question we usually have in response: are they being disingenuous? Everyone’s capable, of course. But most Mexicans really are educated to be polite and exchange pleasantries in all types of situations. Whereas I’d be suspicious of a friend in the U.S. applying this technique, here I’ve come to expect it.
“Geez, not even a ‘buenos días’?” I might think these days.
So what do we do with this information as foreigners, especially those of us who have and appreciate a much more direct style?
Sometimes I am direct myself — after some pleasantries, of course — with those close to me, or those I have to work with. “Please just tell me directly. It really is okay, and it will really help me.”
Because on this, I can’t ignore my own cultural bias completely: avoiding giving bad news is, to me, just lying. Plus, obscuring the truth just slows everything down, because when there’s a problem, I want to get it solved quickly. My partner always says that the truth always comes out, eventually. This is true, and I’m of the bad idea that sooner is always better than later.
Still, I don’t make the rules around here, so like it is for immigrants everywhere in the world, there’s a bit of “go along to get along” that has to happen.
Now, even when I’d really like to dive in to what it is I want to talk about or ask, I remember: the spoonful of sugar really is needed to make the medicine go down. Without it, people might be so put off by the bad taste that they can’t appreciate the substance in the least. Honestly, it’s easy to inadvertently offend Mexicans. And who wants to do that?
So let loose with those pleasantries. Talk about the weather. Ask about their families. Find out if they’ve got any fun weekend plans they’re looking forward to.
And when someone asks you for a favor after a bunch of pleasantries, remember that they’re exercising a cultural value we all admire: extreme politeness. Dive in and enjoy it. And if you want to say “no,” in the end, that’s okay — just try to be suave about it.
No one likes getting bad news.
Sarah DeVries is a writer and translator based in Xalapa, Veracruz. She can be reached through her website, sarahedevries.substack.com.
