Super Bills

America. As I have said in other logs, I am a well-traveled, open-minded American. But I am an American through and through. The Super Bowl is a time of America, much like Thanksgiving. It is a microcosm for our world and culture. Although I was not thrilled about the two teams participating, my anticipation for the event has been building for weeks. I love this classically American event.

Mexicans. Surprisingly Mexicans are just as big on the Super Bowl as Americans, well, just as big is a slight exaggeration. However, it is on every TV in the country, and it happened on a very important soccer day. Yet, no soccer could be found.

Plans. One of my Mexican friends had invited me to a party, but I wanted a truly American experience. I couldn’t see myself cheering in Spanish with people whistling and throwing their arms about as if they were Michael Flatley’s legs from “River Dance.” I wanted beer, wings, people in jerseys, etc. So, I convinced Philip (German) to go with me to a very American establishment.

Hooters. Now, please understand I was going for (1) WINGS, (2) atmosphere, (3) beers, (4) maybe just the whole Hooters experience. How American can you get? There is only one in Mexico, and I had passed it on the way to a soccer game down south. Anyways, upon arriving there 2 hrs before the start of the game we discovered that Mexicans longed for the same experience and had book the restaurant months in advance. They weren’t letting people in yet, so the parking lot was full of Steelers jerseys and Mexicans. There was no way I could talk myself in or get a table. I couldn’t believe it. I told the hostess that I was American, that didn’t work. I told her I was from Pittsburg, that didn’t work. I told her my gimp brother was at the game and they were going to put a picture of him up on the big screen after the first quarter, no dice. I gave up, rolled my eyes, and whined to Philip that I couldn’t have tacos and watch the Super Bowl. As he consoled me, I saw a dejected American couple and we reunited. They longed for the same experience I just described. They came with us and we found a perfect place.

Papa Bills. Picture Wal-Mart filled with tables, TVs, and Mexicans. That is Papa Bills. Perfect! Our Brazilian friend, Rafeal, and our British friend, Andrew, joined us and our new American friends. We got our wings, our jerseys, our cheering. It was great. Also, they had 2 for 1 deals based on the game. Touchdown, 2 for 1 wings, etc, etc.

Mexicans cheering. I still don’t completely understand the whistling. Sometimes they use it to “boo” the opposing team; sometimes they do it to “cheer on” their team. But like many things in Mexico, it isn’t supposed to make sense, and you should follow along. When in Rome.

It was all that I hoped it would be…See the pictures