In 1948, Yugoslavia was on the brink of war with the Soviet Union, tanks lined up at the border. Suddenly:
Yugoslav authorities had to look somewhere else for film entertainment. They found a suitable country in Mexico: it was far away, the chances of Mexican tanks appearing on Yugoslav borders were slight and, best of all, in Mexican films they always talked about revolution in the highest terms. How could an average moviegoer know that it was not the Yugoslav revolution?
With the newfound popularity of Mexican culture, Yugoslavians started donning sombreros, pulling ponchos over their heads, and making faux-Mexican records. “The Mexican influence spread to all of the popular culture: fake Mexican bands were forming and their records still can be found at the flea markets nowadays.”
Great album covers and thrilling lo-fi MP3s.
3 Replies to “Yu-Mex”
In my mind I see a large parade of sombrero-clad mariachi singers walking from Zagreb to Sarajevo to Ljubljana, and it’s a frightening picture.
They end in Belgrade for the annual “Dias de Festivo de Srbjicdjub.”
What, no Yu-Mex cuisine?
Thanks for this amazing connection. Slack-key guitar might have been an even better choice, just so you could have a vowel-deprived culture hooking up with a consonant-deprived culture. But this is good enough, and I had no idea that Tito’s break from Stalin produced a soundtrack.
Don’t miss the lyrics, either. From sombrero-wearing Milic Ljubomir, the guy on your entry:
“My wife is talking all the time
how I just drift around
and don’t care about her
that I come home at the dawn
What can I do
when beautiful women are after me all the time
and at least one
is pulling me by the shoulder
Every morning when I return home
my wife bables (sic) to the evening
I’ll apply for divorce!”
I bet that’s how Tito felt.
> What, no Yu-Mex cuisine?
Now that the idea has been planted, I expect to be the first to sample same at your next feast :)
I’m thinking Oxtail in greasy eggs over a platter of rice and red beans. With pipian mole’.