In Mexico, even an improvised game of street volleyball is a family affair.
When I was in Mexico some of the boys in the street I was staying painted what is basically a full size volleyball court, (complete with boxes for the servers) on the cobblestones of our street.
They tied up a proper net between a drain pipe on one side and a neighbors fence on the other and presto: our quiet little calle got completely consumed by a noisy afternoon sports arena.
But you find kids playing in the streets everywhere right? Sure.
Only in Mexico something is different.
The volleyball games that now go on every afternoon outside our building aren’t just enjoyed by the players, the boys who painstakingly concocted this spontaneous stadium.
Every member of each family involved (as far as I can tell) is in attendance. The mothers are watching from the sidelines. The younger daughter is minding the little baby as he wanders the perimeter, seemingly meters from impending danger. The middle brother who doesn’t feel like playing is cheering his siblings on from the galleys. A friend from the neighborhood is monitoring the net to make sure any given play doesn’t dislodge it from it’s ad hoc binding.
Everyone’s involved somehow. And the longer you watch it, the more beautiful it seems.
It’s the consummate example of a yet nameless characteristic I’ve continually observed ever since arriving here.
I was fascinated right from the get go that whenever we’d call a service person to our house, whether for a problem with plumbing, to connect up our phone line, or to fix a leak on the roof, we’d never get a single technician.
The “plumber” that arrived at our house was one guy, his two cousins and one of their sons. All doing their little bit to get our drains unclogged and our taps properly sealed.
The guy who connected our phone line brought along his 11 year old son who he was training into the business. The little guy was drilling holes in our wall, connecting wires, and shouting instructions back and forth through his two-way.
Even when someone came to fix something on our roof it was him and his two friends. The job took all day between breaks, good chats, and shared beers.
It’s just how it is. Even the simplest of tasks are better performed by a group, not because Mexican’s are lazy or less competent than anyone else. They don’t work in groups because they MUST, but because then CAN.
The other factor we couldn’t help but notice was a stark lack of homeless people around the place. You know that a lot of people are poor, and it seems like consequently you should see a lot more homeless people sleeping on sidewalks, and all that.
Not in our town.
We posed the question to an American who has lived in the area for 20 years and he promptly replied “It’s because family bonds are so strong here. If you end up on the street, whether it’s a grandparent, a second cousin, or even an in law, SOMEONE will take you in.”
Family comes first. You look after them and you are confident that in the same situation, someone would look after you.
It applies equally to one’s treasures and one’s burdens.
If a taxi driver finds a fun little game to play, flicking a coin on to a rock to help kill time in between taxi shifts, he lets the other drivers know about it too, and they all play together. If you have to waste your one day off work fixing a roof, there’s a buddy who knows that pain and is happy to help shoulder that burden with you.
It’s the unending desire to be connected in this country, whether to family, community, or friends. It’s clear that for the majority, the desire (perhaps the need) to be a part of something greater supersedes the western allure of individualism, the “going it alone”, “don’t need no one/nobody” mindset.
It makes for a delightful culture; particularly if you’ve come from one of the developed nations to which it poses such a contrast. It’s one of the many unique things you come to love about being here; something I know I’ll never forget.
View more articles on my travel blog or Mexico travel guide.
