Dear Mexican: I enjoyed reading the letter some years back from the lovely Mexican lesbian about lip liner. I have met several guys from Mexico who come to the U.S. so they can come out of the closet. Nothing warms my middle-aged gay heart more than when a nice Mexican young man says “Hola, papi”! However, it seems that when they go home to Mexico to visit their mamacitas, they go back in the closet. I’ve read in the news that things are getting better for my fellow homos in Mexico. Are more macho muchachos “out” in Mexico these days?
Grateful White Queen
Dear Pocha: Life for mariposas in Mexico has gotten much better since the days when the Aztecs would kill gay men by pulling their entrails through their culos. Just last month, the Mexican Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in Jalisco, stereotypically the most macho state in la república (the rest of us mexicanos always knew those charros from Los Altos were on the down-low, anyway). On the other mano, the Human Rights Commission of Mexico City’s 2008 report on LGBT discrimination noted that a Mexican governmental survey found that 48.4 percent of households surveyed said they wouldn’t allow a gay person to live in their house, and that over 90 percent of LGBT folks had experienced discrimination on account of their sexuality. In other words, Mexico is about as tolerant of gay folks as Ted Cruz, but far better-looking.
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ADIÓS, DENVER! It’s with pinche tristeza that the Mexican announces that this is his final columna for Westword. The Mile High Ciudad will always have a special place in my heart because ustedes taught me a different side of the Mexican experience in the United States: You taught me about Corky Gonzales and Richard T. Castro, Federal Boulevard and Su Teatro — and the Mexican hamburger, the greatest Mexican dish ever created in Aztlán.
I tell every Mexican I know that they’re not real raza unless they’ve spent time in Denver, and I’m proud to say I’ve visited ustedes at least once a year since Westword began running my column in 2006. So many people to thank, but a special tip of the sombrero to Westword jefa Patty Calhoun, who’s as down a gabacha as anyone can ever hope to meet, and copy chief Jane Le, a true chingona. No lloren, cabrones: If you really want your Mexican, he’ll be at the original Chubbys at 1 a.m., when the real machos go.
The Mexican and his column will continue; follow Gustavo Arellano on Facebook, Twitter (@gustavoarellano) and Instagram (@gustavo_arellano). Send questions to firstname.lastname@example.org.