
I admit to feeling a lack of celebratory fervor myself. It seems obscene to spend millions of pesos on fireworks when there are so many people without running water, basic health care and viable schools. But it also seems wrong not to celebrate. So I've been trying to take a longer view of things. I prefer to use the Aztec date of 1325 as the real starting point of history here in Mexico City, so the drug wars, the battle between church and state over the new gay marriage law, the economic crisis all seem like small blips on a big radar screen.
A sense of something ancient, with roots deep in the earth, below where earthquakes can damage it, seems to hold this country together. Subliminal reverence for the pagan gods--Huitzilopochtli, Tlaloc, Quetzalcoatl--adds its tint to the worship of the Virgin of Guadalupe.
And it seems to me that the deities have responded, endowing the Mexican people with a remarkable capacity for endurance and an ability to prioritize the finer things in life (family, food, fiestas). Unfortunately there appears to be no god or goddess of politics, so we struggle on.
I've been in Mexico now for more than 13 years, have been granted the privilege of Mexican citizenship, and can think of no place else I'd prefer to live. So in spite of any reservations I have, I'll be out there with the crowd, joining in the grito: Viva Mexico!