When tacos aren’t enough

By Timothy Pratt

Monday, April 9, 2007 | 8:33 a.m.

Behold the humble taco.

It, along with the sombrero, has often been asked to represent 21 Spanish-speaking countries, what people think of when they say "Hispanic," or if you add Portuguese-speaking Brazil, "Latin."

That's why Taco Bell and Del Taco may sometimes seem the unofficial ambassadors of Latin culture in the United States.

That's why, when this weekend's Vegas Grand Prix came to town, and its promoters smartly decided to liven up the otherwise ghostly Neonopolis with something called a "Latin Village," it had to have tacos.

In fact, no matter which tunnel you chose to enter that downtown monument to lost sales, a taco was waiting to greet you.

You could put on a blindfold, have someone spin you around three times, and walk straight into a taco.

The event, various experts agreed, posed an interesting object lesson in how to market to Latinos, or Hispanics, a question that most businesses across the nation, not to mention political candidates, have been asking themselves and numerous well-paid consultants ever since Census 2000.

Promoter Brad Yanover called the "Latin Village" concept, "kind of a big deal for us it's our attempt at embracing the Hispanic community."

He tapped a local Spanish-language radio station, KWID 101.9 FM, to help stage the event, which in turn tapped Sam Loya, a Clear Channel radio employee and son of Mexican immigrants.

"I basically came up with the idea of a Mexican village," Loya said. "But I hate to exclude anybody."

And so the "Latin Village" was born.

Saturday morning visitors to the site would have been visually stirred by the brightly colored effect of more than 195 (I stopped counting) Mexican flags criss-crossing the airspace. The flag's colors - red, white and green - also adorned a few pinatas dangling overhead.

It was at this time it seemed appropriate to ask, "Does it matter if you call this Latin, Hispanic, Mexican or whatever?"

Andy Erlich, author of the book, "Selling to Latinos: Building a Bridge to Understanding," said, "It matters a lot what you call yourself."

"It's a good thing they're trying to reach out (but) you can't be all things to all people," he said.

"There's diversity within the diversity - if you assume that a Central American is a Mexican or a Cuban is a South American, it's a big turnoff, even a lack of respect," added Erlich, who speaks about these subjects at conferences.

Harley Shaiken, chairman of the Center for Latin American Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, said that marketing to all Hispanics or Latinos is "doable, but it sure isn't easy."

"Where it becomes complicated is that people, even with their hearts in the right place, are dealing with stereotypes," he said.

"Anyone who speaks Spanish is Mexican - it's a common mistake," Shaiken added.

In his defense, Loya noted that most of the local Latino population hails or descends from Mexico, as did most of his contacts in putting the event together.

About 70 percent of the Las Vegas Valley's estimated 450,000 Hispanics fit that category.

"I didn't have the opportunity or the time to find people who sell empanadas," he blurted out, naming the fried or baked, meat-filled, half-moon shaped street food dear to at least a dozen South American and Caribbean countries.

So forget about empanadas.

Stirring charcoal to spread the flame Saturday morning, Aldo Sanchez said he knows about stereotypes.

Working the stand for Carniceria El Limon y Taqueria - as in taco - the light-skinned 26-year-old from Mexico City said people often confuse him with an americano.

He said he never realized how different Spanish-speaking people from different countries were until he came to the U.S. six years ago, where "we're forced to live together and get to know each other."

At the same time, it's inevitable that Mexican culture winds up being the big boy on the block, he said - especially in the Southwest. "I know plenty of Salvadorans that like spicy food now because of all the Mexicans they know," he added by way of proof.

In the end, Erlich said, you ought to begin any project trying to reach Latinos by doing a bit of market research.

"Ask your targets what they want, instead of making assumptions," he said.

An observant young woman working the event for Clear Channel wound up doing just that late Friday, reaching a surprising conclusion.

The results of her research were seen shortly after noon Saturday, just as the snappy sizzle and thick smell of tacos began filling the air.

Suddenly, a pair of large speakers on an empty stage let loose some congas and trumpets.

It was salsa, that music born in the Caribbean and New York City and adapted in several South American countries with large black populations.

"I noticed yesterday that gringos and Latinos both liked this music and looked a lot happier than when we only played Mexican regional songs," said Elena Foote, the Clear Channel consultant.

Foote was born in Ecuador but her father is Colombian. So she picked up a Colombian salsa CD at home and told the deejay to put it on Saturday.

Sure enough, a guy wearing a baseball cap adorned with the Mexican flag took his girl by the hand and gave her a twirl, the two in time to the beat.

Gringos walking by smiled at the scene.

Things were looking up at the Latin Village.