Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day in Mexico is May 10th, which is not always a Sunday. It is an extremely important day. No man or boy would ever neglect his mother on Mother’s day. The consequences could be dire.

My first Mazatlán Mother’s Day, my housekeeper and friend, Christina, invited me to go to a party at her son’s school. Eduardo was in middle school and his school was hosting a party for all the mothers after school on Thursday, May 10th. Of course, I said yes.

On the way to the party, Christina and I were walking to El Mercado, the big market, to catch the bus, when I ran into my favorite street beggar. I really liked this woman and there were maybe four other people in the city who shared my feelings.  Her name was Güera because her skin was so light. She was about eighty years old and tough as nails. The woman was indestructible.

Güera begged you to put money in her tin can by shaking it in your face as she glared at you. If you didn’t give her money, she scowled and said (in perfect English) “That’s ok. I don’t like you either.”

Güera could have worked on her delivery a bit, but I guess I admired her determination. I always gave her something ~ five pesos (about 50 cents back then) if I had it. Most people thought that was a lot of money. I thought it was nothing.

That day, the day of the Mother’s Day party, Christina gave Güera two pesos and as I was searching through my purse, the old witch shook that damn can in my face. I said, “Un momento, Chica!” (One moment, girlfriend.) Gûera looked up, saw it was me and smiled a wonderful, toothless grin. Then my favorite beggar grabbed my hand, shook it and wished me a Happy Mother’s Day..

Christina and I continued on to the party. It was a wild, free-for-all. Two hundred pretty mothers in full makeup, dressed in their very best clothes. We danced and ate free food. We drank gallons of Coca-Cola. I noticed there were no husbands or children around except for the student entertainers. The final event was a massive drawing, where women could win big prizes ~ blenders, toasters, pounds of fresh coffee, necklaces and beautiful combs for their hair. Every woman won something.

I wondered why there were no men and children. “Where are they?” I asked Christina.  She looked at me as if all my marbles had just fallen on the floor. “They’re home, of course. This party is just for mothers.”

Later, I told Ernesto about my experience with Güera. He said that she has been a beggar by the market for as long as he could remember. Rumor is that she is actually a very wealthy woman, who provided an education for all of her children with the money she earned begging in front of the market.

Now all of her children are grown but Gûera continues to shake her tin can and beg for money. One of her sons is a taxi driver in the city. Every day a different taxi driver gives Güera a free ride home at 3:00 p.m. ~ just because she is old, and tough, and somebody’s mother.