Tag: third world

August 26, 2009

Mexico: Not as Third World as You Think

Seriously. I left Cancun airport, all gleaming and shiny, with super-clean bathrooms, no lines and free ziplock baggies at security, to return to Miami, where I shuffled through gray, low-ceiling halls, past unexplained barriers and into immigration that looked like it had been wedged into a disused room. While I waited for my luggage, I went to a two-stall bathroom where the doors didn’t lock. Heading for my connecting flight, I could tell I was getting close to the security checkpoint because the hall smelled like stinky feet.

If you haven’t left the US in a while, I’ve got some news for you: We’re falling way behind. In Mexico, there’s free wi-fi in the parks. The roads are fabulously smooth. There are bike paths. People are talking about the economic crisis as something that happened months ago, when that whole swine flu thing got a little overhyped in the press, but things are getting back on track now.

And speaking of swine flu, the Mexican government is sure as hell doing a lot more about it than I ever saw in NYC at the peak of the panic. There are public health vans parked at every town plaza in the major affected zones. Everyone’s washing their hands twice as much as they used to. (And even that was twice as much as we do here in the US. In Mexico, the signs in the bathroom advise you to wash your hands after using the bathroom, of course, but also before you eat. Very wise. If more travelers did this, they wouldn’t get so sick.)

If you’re a little scared of going to Mexico because of everything you read in the news, don’t be. It is a huge country. The narco wars are happening in the equivalent of Detroit and Baltimore, which wouldn’t stop you from visiting, say, the Grand Canyon, right? Speaking of which, the Cañon del Sumidero in Chiapas–fantastic.

And speaking of Chiapas–yeah, everything’s fine there. That uprising? It happened in 1994. Same year Kurt Cobain died, just for perspective. Loooong-ass time ago.

Anyway, just had to get that off my chest before I go sort through all my photos. And an apology is due: I spent this whole trip on Facebook, instead of here. But you didn’t miss too much–there were very few ‘wacky hijinks of a guidebook writer’ episodes on this trip. I did realize that whereas I used to hate how hotel owners would chat my ear off, now I have become the annoyingly chatty one. Maybe that’s because I wasn’t funneling enough of my drive-time musing into my blog. Live and learn… And stay tuned for photos.

March 2, 2009

The New Illiteracy, Brought to You by Chili’s

As I’ve mentioned before, we’ve got this little strip of suburban plastic at the southern end of Astoria. One of the bigger tenants is an Applebee’s.

And that Applebee’s has a big ol’ freakin’ apple on top of it.

When I saw this, I immediately thought of Campeche, Mexico. Like many Spanish colonial towns, Campeche didn’t have street signs at first. People referred to corners instead, and named them for objects or animals, which were marked with a drawing or a figure. In Campeche, the corner known as “el rincon del venado” is still marked by a somewhat battered statue of a deer (which I can’t find a photo of, unfortunately) atop one of the buildings.

This isn’t unique to Campeche. Most of medieval Europe used this same navigation, and it was handy in colonial towns where new streets were built and named quickly (and unmemorably–the Spanish just used numbers).

So the Applebee’s sign makes sense here in Queens–the streets here are also unmemorably numbered, and there is certainly a polyglot population.

But the bad aspect of medieval signage is that it was really adopted because no one could read.

Is that what’s happening now? It sure seems like it.

Especially because it’s not just Applebee’s.

Chili’s is probably even more thorough in this than Applebee’s is–most restaurants have the gigundo chili on it. And with its logo, Chili’s has gone so far as to take all but one of the letters out of its name:

When I was in Chicago in January, we passed the Weber Grill restaurant. This has perhaps the most medieval look of all, the way it’s sticking off the building:

I can practically hear someone saying, “I’ll meet you at el rincon del Weber…”

I was on the Upper West Side last week, and saw that Dunkin’ Donuts is following the trend too, by affixing a giant coffee cup to its awning. I didn’t get a picture of that, but here’s another version, out in Brooklyn:

What’s funny about this one is that there’s still lettering on the cup. Dunkin’ Donuts is basically admitting that it doesn’t “own” the takeaway coffee market–but it’s hoping that if it just makes its own logo big enough, it will suffice. (And can I add that it’s just plain sad that the more obvious symbol–duh, a doughnut!–is not even an option, due to health concerns.)

I knew standards in the U.S. were slipping–we’re more like a third-world country than anyone wants to admit. But if we’re going back to the illiterate Middle Ages on top of it all, it’s worse than I thought.

Any signs of diner illiteracy near you?

October 12, 2004

Banh Mi, but Don’t Blame Me

Last week, as I was stuffing the world's best snack, the banh mi, the Vietnamese sandwich specifically from the dark little hole under the Manhattan bridge that's open only five hours a day, down my gullet in a frenzied urge to maximize the sweet-hot-crispy-gooey-meaty-veggie taste sensation, I was also contemplating how it is that I'm chronically late.