Wandering through the vibrant streets of Pátzcuaro, a magical town nestled in Michoacán, Mexico, in late October, the air buzzed with anticipation for the Day of the Dead celebrations. Cempasúchil flowers and whimsical papier-mâché skeletons adorned every corner, while vendors displayed sugar skulls and an array of holiday trinkets. It was amidst this explosion of traditional Mexican artistry that I spotted him – Goku.
There he was, positioned between a cute Frida Kahlo purse and a grinning calavera, a polyresin figure reminiscent of the Catholic saints often found in a traditional abuela’s home: Goku, the iconic protagonist of Dragon Ball Z.
A wave of delight washed over me. I excitedly called my friend over, snapping a photo. “Look!” I exclaimed, “It’s my favorite saint!” I was aware of Dragon Ball Z’s immense popularity in Latin America and the well-known meme status of anime within the region. However, encountering Goku in Pátzcuaro, a town celebrated for its dedication to traditional crafts and indigenous culture, felt wonderfully surreal. It was like a breath of fresh air, a delightful cultural paradox.
This unexpected sighting sparked a curiosity within me. Michoacán had truly captivated me with its rich arts and culture. The ceramics, rooted in Purépecha techniques, and the exquisite cuisine were particularly enchanting. I had the pleasure of meeting Cristina Potters, a respected food writer in Morelia, who introduced me to the culinary wonders of La Conspiración de 1809. Was it possible that I found the region, with its deep reverence for tradition, to be slightly too earnest, too focused on the past?
Not really. Throughout Morelia, I sensed a playful spirit interwoven with tradition. In Pátzcuaro, a large Day of the Dead ofrenda, dedicated to the deceased, surprisingly featured a Monster Energy Drink theme, perhaps honoring someone with a profound love for the beverage. It made a strange kind of sense. I would certainly hope my own family would place a cold brew coffee on my ofrenda, ensuring my journey back from the land of the dead to the living world is less grumpy and more caffeinated.
However, the more I pondered the Goku phenomenon, the more I realized my reaction was less about Mexico itself and more about the often-mythologized perceptions of Mexican and Latino culture within the United States, especially in media portrayals.
The story of anime’s rise in Latin America is fascinating. The popular YouTube channel “Get in the Robot” offers an engaging explanation, linking it to Latin American countries’ appreciation for high-quality dubbing, unedited content (unlike US censorship of violence), and a market gap for animated shows due to limited local animation funding. Furthermore, Latin American audiences, accustomed to the intricate plots of telenovelas, readily embraced anime’s long, complex narratives.
One could attempt to draw parallels between Dragon Ball Z and Mexican culture. Goku, a strong and devoted family man who returns from the afterlife and fiercely upholds his duty, embodies values that resonate universally, perhaps even within a Mexican cultural context. However, these themes are arguably too broad to fully explain the specific “Goku in Mexico” phenomenon. Economic factors, as mentioned earlier, certainly play a significant role in anime’s overall popularity.
What truly fascinates me about Goku’s presence in Mexico, exemplified by places like Taqueria “Goku,” is that it acts as a cultural “see-through shell,” revealing the inner workings of cultural exchange. It highlights how culture evolves, how people adopt and reinterpret elements, and the unpredictable nature of cultural affections.
Of course, the popularity of Dragon Ball Z isn’t entirely mystifying. Dragon Ball Z is undeniably captivating. It’s entertaining, action-packed, and visually stunning, featuring super-powered characters engaged in epic battles, complete with energy blasts and planet explosions. What’s not to love about that?
However, witnessing Goku figurines in Pátzcuaro brought to mind countless discussions in media boardrooms about how to “reach Latino audiences.” In these settings, the complexity of Latino consumers is often reduced to simplistic stereotypes. The average Latino viewer, reader, or customer in the U.S. is often presented as having a narrow set of predictable preferences, as if they were zoo animals with highly specific dietary needs.
While broad generalizations can seem convenient on paper, culture, upon closer inspection, is a vibrant mosaic of individuals with diverse tastes, beliefs, and values. The prevailing, often flawed, logic for marketing media to Latinos in the United States often revolves around clichés: Latinos are family-oriented. They are intensely proud of their Latino identity and need constant reminders of it in media. They adhere to a machismo culture with rigid gender roles and traditional values.
This reductive approach has led to numerous cliché-ridden, pandering projects that have ultimately failed. This failure, in turn, reinforces the self-defeating prophecy that Latinos simply don’t buy books or watch certain types of TV shows, leading to the risky (and incorrect) conclusion that investing in Latino-centric projects is not worthwhile. The reality is that Latinos do engage with media and their culture. They simply don’t connect with stories that constantly emphasize their Latino identity through tired tropes and stereotypical situations.
Perhaps my initial thought was accurate: maybe Goku is something of a pop culture saint in Mexico. For me, Goku represents a powerful symbol against these limiting stereotypes. He is the patron saint I invoke whenever someone attempts to pigeonhole Latino stories, claiming they aren’t “Latino enough” if they deviate from tired tropes like the abuela with “la chancla,” or when they assert that content for the Latino community is inherently risky or unsupported.
Ultimately, stories, regardless of cultural context, need to be compelling. They must resonate with audiences by finding that delicate balance between cultural specificity and universal human themes. The cultural phenomena that truly capture people’s imaginations often defy rigid marketing criteria and pre-conceived notions of “good” or “bad” taste. Culture can be wonderfully quirky, delightfully idiosyncratic, and produce unexpected phenomena like a Goku-themed taco truck in Mexico. This vibrant cultural fluidity is something to embrace and celebrate when creating content intended to connect with diverse audiences.
Or, perhaps, in the spirit of embracing the unexpected, just cast Edward James Olmos as Master Roshi in a live-action adaptation and hope for the best.
