During these December holidays, almost everyone falls into one of two categories: we are either hosts or guests at celebrations. Within these two roles lie intricate social and cultural dynamics.
We have all experienced this at some point. There is an endless array of etiquette and good manners manuals (such as the now famous and obsolete Manual de Carreño) detailing what society expects from our behavior as hosts and guests. Every social norm in this regard inevitably generates tensions: from the typical treatises on how to set a table, to those that go further, instilling the ideology of an entire era by dictating, for example, what topics a good host should propose at the table. There are people who specialize in etiquette, whose job is to tell us what should or should not be done when one is invited to lunch or dinner. That is not our concern here.
What interests us about this condition of host and guest is the fragility and cultural nuance with which a good guest in one social circle can be considered the worst guest in another, simply for not adhering to the unwritten norms of that other group. For example: once, in a place far from Mexico, I tried to clear the plates after everyone at the table had finished eating, as a gesture of cooperation with the hostess, who, for purely cultural reasons, saw my gesture as a sign of discourtesy toward her status as host, since she alone has the privilege of marking the beginning and end of a meal. From that moment, I remembered that when it comes to being host or guest, more than the rules of etiquette from obsolete manuals, what applies is the maxim: "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
In this globalized world, not only do foods from other countries circulate, but so do people, values, ideas, customs, etc. Sometimes it is difficult to adhere to an etiquette norm, knowing well that these are neither universal nor infallible. The art of being a guest also has its charm, since the more one is a host, the more one can infer how to be a good guest, and this does not necessarily apply to all the social circles in which we move. Setting twenty knives and forks per person at a table may seem the height of refinement in one context, while in another, it may appear ridiculous when the menu consists of Mexican snacks. It sounds complicated, doesn't it? And if we add that many expected behaviors from hosts and guests stem from personal perspectives, the broth thickens. Some do not mind guests preparing things in the kitchen; others dislike guests entering their kitchen. Some hosts cannot tolerate children at the table, while for others, it is important that children are present. Some hosts prefer to meticulously design the entire menu; others prefer potluck style. Some guests can be demanding, while others refuse even a glass of water so as not to be a bother. Some celebrations require an invitation to attend, while others welcome any number of guests, simply adding more water to the beans. All this happens within our different social circles, because there is no longer a single, fixed, immovable etiquette norm adapted to the times.
In the end, it is all a matter of observing and observing again, measuring the degree of trust between host and guest, adapting, being attentive to needs, and relaxing to enjoy those shared banquets that we rarely hold throughout the year.
— This article was originally published in Spanish by Liliana Martínez Lomelí. Translation generated with AI from the original text.