Latin American Magical Realism

Today is Cinco de Mayo, which is to Mexican-Americans what St. Patrick's Day is to Irish-Americans: a day of national pride and celebration that gets far more attention in this country than it does in the homeland. In Mexico itself, Cinco de Mayo is not a Federal holiday, but a regional holiday that is primarily celebrated in the state of Puebla, where the battle memorialized by the holiday occurred.

The holiday brought to mind a bit of Latin American magical realism that happened to me recently. Les, one of the Staff Assistants on my floor (we used to call them secretaries in the old days) is a vastly entertaining person with a great sense of humor. She came up to me not long ago and said that she just had to tell me the dream she'd had because I was in it. In the dream, she saw me about to walk into the women's bathroom on our floor and she yelled after me "Marty, you can't go in there! That's the Ladies' Room!". But I turned to her and said "It's OK. I've got to put the Virgin Mary back." And she could see I was carrying a little statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. So, she just stepped back and let me through. I note here that Les isn't even Catholic, but for whatever dream-logic reason, the fact that I had Our Lady made it OK for me to barge into the Ladies' Room. I guess that in her dream-world there was a little grotto or shrine in the ladies room for the BVM.

This story, which she related to several people (as did I), was the source of a good deal of amusement for several days. (I guess that Les is prone to some wild dreams. The next day she told of how she'd dreamt that Bonnie, the mail room lady, a woman probably in her late 50s, was pregnant with sextuplets.) And my wife, who gets along famously with Les ("She's a hoot!") decided to continue the fun. The next weekend, we bought a huge religious candle depicting Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of Mexico, and installed it in the Ladies' Room on my floor. I would've liked to get a statue, but there are no Catholic stores in my small town. Ollie's came through for the candle. My wife did the installation honors after normal business hours; I didn't think the excuse I used in Les's dream would work for me.

Apparently, Les has an iron bladder, because all the other Staff Assistants noticed Our Lady days before Les did. She's been renamed, a little disrespectfully, "Our Lady of Gottapoope", and I understand she gets called on now and then to freshen the air.