Lupe works at the bank. She's a teller. She's worked at the bank for nearly ten years now. Not long ago, she was at her post when it fell her turn to serve a gringo gentleman who had been in Mexico only a short time.
The man's wife had opened an account in the bank to exchange dollars for pesos because all things Mexican (read here: anything taking place in Spanish) left our hero somewhat daunted. This particular day was a Friday and as you know Friday in our local banks generally signifies long lines. The man was not partial to long lines. He had children and grandchildren, and due to his age, had been an architect of the new generation. None of this was on his mind, however, as he slowly inched his way up to the teller sighing audibly every few minutes.
At long last he reached the window where Lupita was working. Lupita does not speak English very well and what little she does speak embarrasses her to articulate. The man didn't speak any Spanish at all. He presented her with a check signed by his wife. Lupe looked at the check, verified the amount in the computer, then asked the man for some ID. He hadn't brought ID.
"But this is my wife's account," he explained to Lupe.
"Si Señor," explained Lupe, "pero no es tuyo, y tengo reglas aqui del banco."
This explanation caused the man more than a little frustration. He thought about going home to get his ID then he thought about the line. He decided to scare Lupe into cashing the check anyway. He raised his voice and started over. "My wife was in here just a couple of days ago and opened this account. Now you are telling me that I can't get MY money out of YOUR bank?!"
Lupita was just at the point of cashing the check when he started to raise his voice. "No es mi culpa", she thought, "por que está regañandome?" (It isn't my fault, why is he chastising me?) The man had no idea that chastising someone without having reason is a social blunder, so he continued to rant and rave until Lupe called the manger.
The manager had more experience with irate North Americans and listened patiently as the man once more went through his litany of supposed wrongs. Then the manager shepherded him to a desk in the back of the bank where a call was placed to the man's wife which promptly cleared up the problem of cashing the check.
The man left the bank a few minutes later, triumphant. What he didn't know was that he had his money but he had lost all possibility of any future favors - from everybody in the bank. To raise one's voice in anger is a Mexican no-no. To "blame" someone who has done nothing wrong is another no-no. To expect that an employee of a Mexican business be responsible to solve a problem which by rights can only be resolved by the manager or owner of the business is simply foolhardy. The man in the bank had committed all three errors and compounded the errors by being rude.
If a Mexican should commit a blamable error he will stand to be chastised. If he has not committed an error for which he can be blamed and he is chastised anyway, he will resent the source of the chastisement, maybe forever.
If the man in the bank had simply been understanding the teller would have most likely cashed the check. It wasn't for a large sum and she could have done him the favor by simply saying to her manager that she knew the man but that he had forgotten his ID. I often hear gringos complaining that there seems to be two sets of rules. One set for Mexicans and another set for gringos. I suspect that these same gringos would be surprised about how readily they would be included in the Mexican set of rules were they to simply follow the Mexican rules of social conduct.
