Picture yourself inside a Wendy’s in a preppier part of town. In walks a hispanic man, dressed in a way that’s very obviously Mexican. The cashier happens to know a little spanish and he places his order. For a few minutes, you, the other white American, and the hispanic man wait for your food in complete silence. You don’t say anything to him, because you assume he speaks little to no english.

Now picture yourself as the hispanic man. That’s how I felt earlier this week when I visited a small Mexican vendor.

It’s basically just a truck (one that’s built for food vendors) in an empty parking lot. I had driven past it nearly every day and I decided to stop and see how the food was. There were two hispanic men already there waiting for their food. And, as I described above, not a word was said. Why would we try to communicate when all observations indicated that we didn’t speak the same language?

It was an interestin experience to be in the minority, and in the other guys’ comfort zone. The service was understandably lacking, due to the language barrier. But the pork burrito with everything on it was about the best I’ve ever had in my entire life. I guess there have to be compromises.

So if you ever want some good authenticly Mexican food (from people who were probably there recently), you should definitely check this place out. The truck is in Colorado Springs on Union between Palmer Park and Constitution.

3 Responses to “Foreigner”

  1. justin Says:

    Yeah, roach coach food (despite their reputation) is usually pretty awesome. Those little hole in the wall mexican places (like the one at Monterey and Circle) are good in the same way. I do always kinda feel like an outsider though. And that’s what they feel like 90% of the time.

  2. Hannah Says:

    I thought you lived in Southern Texas! Don’t you know Spanish? 😉

  3. howman Says:

    I think it has a lot to do with the community aspect of the culture you are immersed in. I was living in Japan for about 4 yrs. and no one ever had a problem starting up a conversation with me. They either knew nothing more than hello or my name is and sort of expected that you should know a bit of Japanese. Talk about feeling like the minority. I was, fortunately, in the literal and figurative, middle of Japan. No one or their dog spoke much English if any, but I met tonnes of people, most of whom just came up to me in malls or stores to just say hello or practice their English. Now having said that, look at the nature of the Japanese culture. It completely revolves around community, the group not the individual, close living with very little personal space. All these things help in making conversation with strangers. Strange though, the world wide phenomenon of not acknowledging people in elevators still holds true.

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