Decent People Wear Shoes
Friday, September 14th, 2007Maybe I’m a little country, a little backwoods, but I grew up barefoot.
There’s a saying here in Mexico that goes like this: Hasta que te conozco uno con zapatos.
It’s kind of like saying: I finally meet someone with shoes on.
It means that shoes are a sign of decency. Decent people from decent families wear shoes. Only poor, backward people run around barefoot. That’s why my mother-in-law is so concerned that Diego, my baby, is usually barefoot. The family has bought
him several pairs of shoes and a number of socks to try to save him from being a backward little boy.
When he’s barefoot, little, old women stop me to say, “¡Ay! His shoes fell off!”Or fellow mothers say, “Ay, pobrecito, he doesn’t have any shoes.” Every now and then, a young mother will see Diego and his dirty toes as a sign of freedom and independence. She’ll tell me how she would like to take her son’s shoes off. These kindred spirits are few and far between.
Since Diego was born, I’ve noticed that the only children I see running around without any shoes on are indigenous children selling tortillas or fruit with their mothers and siblings. In a country that faces poverty on every street corner, many people try to separate themselves from it as much as possible. Decent people wear shoes.
There’s also the belief that if one runs around barefoot, inside or outside, you are in danger of getting an aire, a chill. This can lead to all sorts of complications. My mother-in-law constantly reminds me that I should not ever go barefoot, especially in my condition, whether that condition be pregnant, postpartum, breastfeeding, or, well, just alive. Diego, as a delicate little baby, should always have on, not only sandals, but lace-up shoes to protect him from getting a chill… and for decency’s sake.
I used to feel like it was a battle between society and me. A head-on collision. Now though, I put on my toe rings and ankle bracelets. I carry Diego’s sandals with me, but let his toes hang out of his kangaroo carrier. It’s become what sets us apart but also draws in other mothers, grandmothers and caregivers. It’s a point of friendly discussion, a cultural comparison, and we’re all learning to accept one another for who we are, shoes or no shoes.
