This was the third time I organized a conference where he was the key note speaker. And the first time that despite canceling last minute, I convinced him to take the red eye flight from Mexico City to Montreal to give his keynote. It was the middle of winter and it was horrible, so I awaited Monsiváis at the airport fully equipped with winter clothes, which he denied at first but after feeling the first wave of cold air freezing everything including his eye balls, he conceded to the hat, the gloves, the coat, the scarf, etc. The conversation took us to the different AIDS treatments in Mexico and Canada and very soon after my many awkward attempts to impress him the magic happened: I think we clicked. He said, “Call me Carlos.”

During the three days we spent together I noticed his humbleness and was privileged to get a taste of what characterized him: his way of chronicling reality, making an art out of irony. We were witnessing similar things, while walking on the street buying movies, having dinner at a fancy restaurant with important McGill officers, attending an artsy private screening of a porn film, waiting on an elevator, eating lunch, yet he notice a different reality — always sharp, without any warning and full of irony — and chronicled it to me, the spectator.

What I first thought after hearing the news was: What am I going to think now?  What am I going to know what I am supposed to think? Not that we can not think for ourselves, but no one can equal his capacity to synthesize personal, political, past, future, present, local, and humorously, and to do it in one article that denounces the evil  and highlights the advantages of  everything from policies, treaties and politicians, to songs and cultural events. There are innumerable things we lost with his passing away. There is no space for a public intellectual anymore, that figure that is beyond academia and activism, who belongs to both and is an authority not only to the fellow critics and people but to the government.  He was our public intellectual and he is gone. And his humor is gone too. How are we going to laugh at tragedy now?

Then I thought I missed out in a chronicle of a Mexico he only knew through his personal romantic encounters. In Macha Mexico’s last post on Monsiváis, Anahí talks about how Monsivais never came out of the closet publicly yet he was one of the main defenders of the LGBT rights in Mexico, always writing against homophobia and most recently in favor of the same-sex marriage in Mexico City.

It got me thinking. Yes, I wanted to read a chronicle of all his love affairs. I wanted him to write and for all of us to know that Mexico of high level politicians, of pop icons, of random cabaretito personalities, of ambassadors, of particular secretary’s of governors, of protégées. What will Mexico look like if every one of them was outed by a posthuma novel written by Monsiváis? I couldn’t believe the Mexico that was opening before my eyes when Carlos shared with me his personal affairs. Yet, now, it got me thinking.

In the Anglo Euro-American world a primary level of identification is gender and sexuality and there is the assumption that more visibility equals more freedom and civil rights. But I think, we in Latin America have to be more cautious with this assumption. More visibility doesn’t necessary equal more power. We are millions of brown people in Mexico City, thousands of indigenous yet racism is more than prevalent — actually there was a protest not long ago where many campesinos and campesinas protested at the Zocalo, this time naked  thinking it will gain them more visibility. It did, but not from the the government and their pleas were not heard.

I was pleased that the LGBT community claimed a place in the ceremony of Monsiváis’ wake, as much as the UNAM and Mexico’s flags did. But I am most happy that although Carlos shared so much with Mexico, he kept so much more for himself. Yes, we should not be scared of talking about sexuality  but it doesn’t guarantee more freedom. It also got me thinking about private-public. Heterosexuality needs no coming out, yet for non-normative sexual identities, not only there is no privacy but the pressure to become “visible for the cause.” I am all for more visibility  but if we want to learn from the LGBTT movement in the Anglo Euro-American world, identifying primarily through gender and sexuality is not a guarantee of  civil rights and it cannot be measured in quantifying or qualifying terms. There is really no binary division, no way of measuring the power of saying or not saying  and silence too,  can be very powerful.

Macha Mexico is honored to publish this unique perspective on the passing of Carlos Monsiváis. Thank you, Susanísima, for sharing this account and your ideas in this space.

Two readings on new books focused on lesbianism and queerness will take place this Friday in different parts of the city. The first book is Entre amoras. Lesbianismo en la narrativa mexicana by María Elena Córdoba Rivera. The book will probably become one of the very few analysis about lesbian literature in Mexico. Experienced activists and writers will be present at the reading, so don’t miss this opportunity to ask all the questions about old school lesbianism in Mexico…

A couple of hours later, author Mauricio List Reyes will talk about his newest book Hablo por mi diferencia. De la identidad gay al reconocimiento de lo queer. List’s work focuses on sexuality as a political practice that works within a institutional construction closely related to modernity.

Whether you prefer literature or theory, both sound like good options to approach Mexican queer theory and practice. If you go to one of the readings, let us know your opinion.

Entre amoras. Lesbianismo en la narrativa mexicana, October 9th, 2009, 5:30pm; Torre II de Humanidades, 4th floor, Ciudad Universitaria, Copilco subway station.
Hablo por mi diferencia. De la identidad gay al reconocimiento de lo queer, October 9th, 2009, 7pm; Niza 23-A, between Reforma Ave. and Hamburgo St. Phone number 5533-7116.

La Jornada is one of the most important newspapers in Mexico. Even though some consider it as extremely supportive of Mexican left Partido de la Revolución Democrática (PRD), over the years the newspaper has certainly done a great coverage of important events in Mexico, such as the aftermath of the 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, the outburst of the Ejercito Zapatista de Liberación Nacional (EZLN), the Acteal massacre, and other issues that other newspapers don’t cover in depth.

The celebration of La Jornada‘s first quarter with Chomsky is an important statement made by the newspaper. It means that it’s against the war, against certain practices of capitalism, and of course, a profound disagreement with U.S. foreign policy. No doubt this lecture is going to be fascinating.

September is a patriotic month in Mexico, a time when you can find good food everywhere, parties, and of course, extravagant manifestations of Mexican nationalism. However, some GLBT people still manage to find spaces where they can get together and discuss their ideas during this time of the year.

Such is the case of the 1st. Conference of Sexual Diversity, that starts on September 17th, at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). The program includes lectures, music, and theater related to sexual diversity in Mexico, and its political issues. One of the highlights is the series of lectures on September 21st about the current laws within the UNAM regarding GLBT rights, as well as the history of those groups inside the National University.

The other highlight is the closing ceremony which will be partially in charge of our friends Burlesquimeras, as well as other performers.

The event is organized by Udiversidad, a group of students that thrive for equality, respect and tolerance towards sexual diversity–as they introduce themselves in their blog. This is certainly a good alternative if you don’t want to deal with hordes on the streets celebrating Mexican independence day until dawn.

1st. Conference of Sexual Diversity at the UNAM, from September 17th to September 21st, various venues. You can see the program here

As part of the same event, the queer troupe of Burlesquimeras will be performing on Thursday. Don’t miss it!

The first one, closer to Insurgentes Avenue, consists of the most representative buildings of the campus: the Jardin Botánico (Botanic Garden), the Olympic Stadium, decorated by Diego Rivera’s murals, the Torre de Rectoría (decorated with a three-dimensional mural by David Alfaro Siqueiros), the Biblioteca Central—characteristically decorated by Juan O’Gorman, and the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo.

As in every lesbian-college-community in the world, there are some faculties or studies that are preferred among machas. In CU, the Facultad de Filosofía y Letras and the Facultad de Psicología are the most famous, although it is common for your gaydar to activate when you visit the Architecture, Economics or Design Departments.

Also in this area, you can find the CEPE (Centro de Enseñanza Para Extranjeros or Center of Studies for Foreigners) where they offer courses about the History and Culture of Mexico. Classes are in Spanish, but are designed for foreigners.

The second area is located at the south, and is characterized by the cultural activities that take place here. The main building is the Centro Cultural Universitario, which helds a series of theatres in which you can enjoy dance, theatre, music, and movies. It also has a café and a bookstore. In front of this zone, you can go the Espacio Escultórico and the Universum Museo de las Ciencias.

CU was built between 1949 and 1952, in order to centralize the faculties spread in Mexico City’s downtown. CU symbolizes a nationalistic project, and most important, the ideal of an education that entitles anyone to university tuition. UNAM has 292,000 students and 34,000 teachers. Nevertheless, the campus has been place of political dissent, especially during the 1968 Olympic Games. More recently, in 1999-2000 the UNAM was closed for nine months. The reason was that some students protested a rise in tuition, but strikers developed wider demands to reorganize the university. Bad memories in Mexico’s psyche returned when the police took the campus, and brought back remembrances of Tlatelolco massacre in 1968.

In spite of the huge dimensions of CU, there are no dorms in the campus. Instead, students coming from abroad or from other parts of the country rent shared appartments or small rooms close to the university. The latter might imply living with a family or a woman of conservative background, who will not allow you to invite over nor friends neither your partner/girlfriend, etc. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why PDA’s can be found in every garden and bench of the campus.

Food stalls can be found all over the campus, with almost the same kind of food, like tortas, tacos, hot dogs and snacks. Every faculty has a canteen, but we highly recommend Papalotl, a few block from Faculty of Economics.

Ciudad Universitaria. The first are mentioned here can be reached from Copilco subway station. The second, by Ciudad Universitaria Station. Althought there is a free transport inside the campus, it is kind of complicated to use it, specially if you are not famliar to the area. A map of the campus can be seen here</em>

The restaurant is decorated with colorful butterflies of all kinds that hang from the ceiling and walls all over the place (“Papalotl” means butterfly in nahuatl); it is well illuminated, plants can be seen everywhere and if you are looking for an open-air area you can pick a table at the little garden in the back or maybe, sit in front of the little fountain.

Variety here is the word. Whether you are vegetarian or not, and if you are used to comidas corridas, you have three choices depending on the weekday. Meat is always on the menu, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays fish is one of the big attractions. You They also serve combos that include a sandwich or baguette, salad, aguas frescas and delicious coffee. They offer a large variety of dressings that includes honey mustard (my favorite) or yoghurt. Items on the menu are from 50 to 70 pesos, but always well served.

If you come by yourself, the music is nice and magazines like Proceso or La Jornada can be found at the entrance. Regulars come from CU, including machas from Philosophy and Literature Department, which is considered the most macha spot–at least in our circle of friends. Highly recommendable.

Cafe Papalotl. Comercio y Administración, 40, Col. Copilco Universidad. Opens 8 am to 8 pm. You can reach the place by walking from Facultad de Economía as if you were going to the subway.

I suspect some locales attract eager couples more than others. When walking with my girlfriend through a park in Coyoacán on a warm day, I realized that my first impression of the park–which appeared largely empty–was incorrect. We were indeed the only couple walking in the park, but there were half a dozen other couples vigorously engaged in various stages of love-making, from the teenagers I saw kissing in the shade of a tree, to the middle-aged pair necking on a partially seclued bench, to a couple engaged in some stage of heavy-petting under the cover of a picnic blanket. Ciudad Universitaria (C.U.), the campus of the Universidad Autonimo de Mexico (UNAM), seems to be another high-frequency area, with couples locked in passionate embraces quick publicly on the many lawns.

I have always assumed that this culture of public or semi-public affection is due to the fact that so many young people in Mexico live with their parents well into their twenties, and so making-out at home is not a realistic option. Of course, my theory doesn´t quite explain the “older” couples (in their forties and fifties) participating in this P.D.A. phenomenon.

A question that friends in New York who have not visited Mexico City often ask is whether or not I feel comfortable being publicly affectionate with my girlfriend. My answer is that yes, I absolutely do. We hold hands, link elbows, and weave our arms around each other´s waists as we walk down the street. We´ll peck each other goodbye when parting on the subway or a street corner, exchange lingering kisses while flirting in restaurants and cafes, and we make-out like crazy people on park benches and on taxis. I´ve never felt uncomfortable or unsafe doing any of this. Yes, there have been stares, even glares, and occasional cat calls from strangers trying to convince themselves that we are only putting on a show for them, but no one has ever threatened us with words or body language, nor has anyone said anything nasty.

In all honesty, visiting machas should take my positive attitude with a grain of salt. Realisticly, when traveling in a new city anywhere in the world, you have to feel comfortable and confident and safe before you shove your tongue down your girlfriend´s throat. I´ll admit that the first time I was kissing my girlfriend in public, I checked-in with her afterwards to ask if she ever felt uncomfortable being publicly engaged in (gasp!) lesbian sexuality. She assured me that she did not, and since then I have trusted my instincts on the matter, which usually lean towards kissing and embracing rather than not.

Of course, every female traveler has her own unique perspective when entering a new culture, country, neighborhood, or restaurant, and I recommend engaging in public affection to whatever extent you feel comfortable and safe. That feeling is no doubt informed (in varying ways) by age, race, gender-normativity (how masculine or feminine you are), whether you speak Spanish, whether you are traveling alone, whether you are traveling with children, where you are from, and how comfortable and safe you feel in your own city. Let these instincts inform your feelings of safety and comfort rather than vague stereotypes and racist fears about machismo and Catholicism in Mexican culture. There are wonderful and vibrant gay communties in Mexico City, and no chilango can claim that gay people do not exist in his city.

Unfortunately, outside of the Zona Rosa (and my circle of friends) I have not seen many other gay couples engaged in public displays of affection out on the street. A friend recently confided that many of the hand-holding female couples she initially read as lesbians turned out to be mothers and daughters upon closer inspection. Young teenage “girlfriends” (in the platonic, Sex and the City sense of the word) are often affectionate in public, hugging and holding hands.

In the Zona Rosa, I have seen gay men and women holding hands, and occasionally at night I´ve spied couples locked in an embrace on the street. My snobby (and hipocritical) impulse to roll my eyes or murmur “get a room” is always trumped by how pleased I am to see queer public displays of affection.

Let´s get it on.