By Fernando Romero -
California Border Correspondent
www.hispanicvista.com - February 10, 2000
When last we met, I was
waxing longingly about taco shops. This week I want to talk to
you about taco shop...poetry.
Tacos and poetry? Why not?
You have to agree that there
is something wonderfully loco about it. Let me explain.
A group of Chicano poets
here in San Diego have been meeting since 1994 and reading their
free-form odes in taco shops from here to San Francisco, Los
Angeles, Denver, New York and back.
Why read poetry in taco
shops, you ask? Simple, says Adolfo Guzmán López,
one of the Taco Shop Poets founding members.
"Taco shops are the
most democratic of institutions, where your standing in life
-- whether you're rich or poor, black or white or brown- doesn't
matter," Guzmán says. "Taqueros (taco makers)
treat everyone the same and serve everyone the same."
He adds: "Whether we're
here or in another city, taco shops are almost like safe places
for us, places that make us feel safe, comfortable. They are
the little embassies of our culture where...we can recharge our
cultural, literary and culinary batteries." Besides, says
Miguel Angel Soria, another founding poet, taco shops are already
filled with literature. From the rhyming Mexican tunes in the
jukebox to the local freebie Latino papers stacked on the floor,
Soria says, "taco shops are natural cultural centers."
Back in 1994, says third-grade
teacher and group member Adrian Arancibia, before they took on
their name, the group met in chic coffee houses and places where
the town's literati gathered.
"But a lot of the messages
weren't being picked up by the customers," Arancibia says.
"They weren't hip to what we were saying."
He continues, "We decided
to do our stuff in taco shops, and as soon as we did, things
exploded for us. People identified with what we were trying to
say. We love that background. We read our poems while in the
background you can hear the people placing orders for tacos ."
The group has a CD, Chorizo
Tonguefire, with titles like "A taco shop canto for war-town
San Diego," "Two o clock park jams; all things being
separate but equal," and "oj, oj, oj." Por supuesto,
this is not for the "Roses are red, violets are blue..."
crowd.
Guzmán, a public
radio program producer, says the group compares itself to the
bards of the middle ages or the people who used to sing corridos
during the Mexican revolution.
"We're taking the stories
of people's lives here on the border ...to Los Angeles, Denver,
New York," Guzmán says. "They're not the kind
of news stories that you can read in the New York Times, but
they're the news as seen by the people of the barrio.
"One of the really
important functions we have is to bring these stories in poetry
form and share them with the rest of the world," he adds.
Guzmán would like
people to note that the group's poetry talks about issues that
people in other cities can understand and relate to.
"This is not San Diego-centric
poetry," he says. "We drove through the southside of
Albuquerque, and they have the same problems you see in Logan
Heights and Crosby and Sherman - they don't have access to education."
Guzmán continues,
"You hear that Latinos, that Chicanos are making it, but
there's still a large sector of our community that doesn't have
access to loans, grants, the basic stuff."
In essence, Guzmán
says, the Taco Shop Poets are "corridistas" gathering
at the crossroad of culture and food.
The Taco Shop Poets recently
appeared - as they do once in a while - at a local college. Accompanied
by drummer Kevin Green and guest bass player Grant Clarkson,
the group - which includes elementary school teacher Tomas Riley
- offered a selection of their best taco-stand poetry.
There was something for everyone.
Sprinkled with startling
phrases (some in Spanish) such as "Wanted: an eclipse; needed:
a temblor " [earthquake] or "Blood is the gold of love"
and "Maquiladora Jesus rises," the saucy poetry of
the four young men hypnotized the audience.
One the most fascinating
poems, written and read by Guzmán - July 4th in the Barrio
- is an ode that addresses the possible displacement of many
people in Barrio Logan foreseen in the creation of a ballpark
and exclusive housing already in the planning stages. Here's
an abridged version:
Is Moores for the barrio?
Is Caminiti for the barrio?
Is Golding for the barrio?
Is Tony for the barrio?
Independence for the barrio
Freedom for the barrio
The liberty bell of the
barrio
Is a car horn on a 67 Chevy
Freedom in the barrio
means leaving, saying you'll
never
come back
And coming back
The entrepreneur of the
barrio
Opens a taco shop
That sells crank and mota
on the
side
It's the end of an era
When Roberto's closes
When the pozole stops flowing
When the adobada stops sizzling
It's the end
When the barrio
Falls to redevelopment loans
Of urban renewal
We didn't cut enough wood
We didn't get into school
180 days is not enough
Who's for the barrio?
Independence for the barrio
The liberty bell of the
barrio
Is a car horn on a '67 Chevy
Powerful enough for you?
It is for me.
Taco shop poetry? Sure.
Because, if you think of it, poetry is food for the soul and
the mind.
In this case, think of it
as delicious thought tacos that feed your mind.
