Columns

Maiz — corn — rules much of rural Mexico. (At one time it ruled almost completely.) Guadalajara’s neighboring muncipio, Zapopan, was until recently called villa maicera, because it grew so much corn. And there are hundreds of small villages throughout the Republic called pueblos maiceros by their inhabitants because they exist on maize.

It takes a considerable stretch of emotion, intellect and intuition to try to understand a culture that is totally foreign to one’s own. Most often, it’s necessary to shed everything one knows about one’s own culture and come to a new society as unknowing as a child.

A million or so words have been devoted to account for the immense popularity in the Spanish-speaking world for the mythical screen character Cantinflas. This outpouring of analysis is particularly rich in the wake of the release of the film “Cantinflas” last week.

The father of contemporary comedy in Mexico, Mario Moreno Reyes, “Cantinflas,” is also the title of the film now showing, directed by Sebastian del Amo, nominated by the Mexican Academy of Cinematographic Arts and Sciences to represent Mexico for the Oscar for Best Foreign-Language Film.

In three days Mexico will mark one of its most important and its most popularly celebrated patriotic dates, September 16, commemorating the beginning of this nation’s struggle for independence from Spain. For foreign residents and visitors in Mexico, September 16 often prompts the impulse to make comparisons. But they are not alone.

While descriptions of Guadalajara at its founding are many, few have been left by on-the-scene observers. Even fewer are free of excusable, but distracting, boosterism prompted by the pride that pioneers legitimately possess concerning simply surviving the rigors of a rough and unexplored land.