Mexican takes flight

There is a part of Doctor Patán's heart that regrets the purchase of the new Mexicana planes, a gem from Embraers –because there is no doubt that they will have, at least, a Maya Train level– 20 in total, of which a couple of days ago the arrival of the first was announced amidst mariachis and flowers, as is common in a festive and musical town like ours, and that, however, hence his Doctor 's lament, will make the very attractive military nature of the town's airline disappear.

Call me a romantic, but I think there’s something charming about boarding a tricked-out military plane like the ones Mexicana currently has and – I’m speaking from my imagination, because, I admit, I haven’t yet managed to fly with the state-owned company – I don’t know: having the guava-colored Boeing 787 carried to your seat by a gallant sergeant, or discovering that a hook in the bathroom survived the tricking out of a little hook to hang the Xiuhcoatl rifle, the pride of Mexican technology, or admiring the welding they did on the trapdoor to release the bombs, that is, if they haven’t covered the floor of the 737 with a carpet decorated with eagle warriors and/or feathered serpents.

However, as I mentioned earlier, I also understand that the 4T must complete its evolution toward its grand destiny, and that life is change, and everything is fleeting, and that's fine. I understand, therefore, that we must earn more than the 300 million pesos the Bienestar airline earns today, and stop subsidizing it with 1.8 billion dollars, if we want to make it competitive and win over more than that 0.4% of passengers who prefer it.

And I understand that to earn that money we have to fulfill the dream of fusing social justice with business efficiency, to travel the air paths that have been denied to the humble, to the good people, and cover the Anenecuilco-Badiraguato route once and for all, or to encourage the residents of that beauty that is Metepec to visit their relatives in the wooded Huejutla, without stops, or to unite Zacatepec, the pride of the sugarcane industry, with, let's say, Macuspana, or even with Tepetitán, or, why not, with La Chingada .

There is, of course, the consolation that the garrison spirit will live on and grow in our homeland (just visit Benito Juárez Airport, with its 1980s-style baggage checks and extra security checks in some areas). But even so, something of the deepest Mexico, something recalcitrantly tropical, will disappear from our lives, alas, irremediably.

@juliopatan09