Atención Interactions: Everyone in México Is Named Ben

By Lisa Babincsak

I was at a rooftop party in San Miguel—a mix of gringos and Mexican nationals, mezcal flowing, everyone pretending they weren’t dripping in sweat despite the evening heat clinging to our skin. We were admiring the view of the colonial spires and terracotta rooftops when one of the gringos, a man in his fifties with a Panama hat he hadn’t earned, turned to the group and said:

“It’s so strange. Everyone in México names their kids Ben. Kids and dogs.”

At first, I thought maybe he knew a lot of Benjamíns. But no—he was completely serious, his tone carrying that particular confidence that comes with certainty built on quicksand.

“I hear it all the time,” he added, gesturing toward the street below. “Ben! Ben! Everywhere you go, someone’s yelling for Ben.”

And that’s when it hit me.

He wasn’t hearing Ben.

He was hearing “ven”.

Which, in Spanish, means come here—as in, come here, child. Come here, dog. Come here, mi amor.

Because the Spanish v sounds like a soft b, this confident, wildly misinformed man thought all of México had named their children and pets the same thing: Ben.

I haven’t laughed that hard in years.

But I also get it.

Living here, it’s easy to get things hilariously wrong. We all arrive with our Google Translate confidence, nodding along to conversations we barely understand, ordering tacos by pointing and praying, convinced we’re more fluent than we actually are. It’s humbling. You realize how much you don’t know, how many layers of meaning you’re missing, how often you’re just one mispronounced syllable away from complete misunderstanding.

The locals are endlessly patient with our fumbling attempts, smiling as we butcher their beautiful language and stumble through customs we’ve only half-grasped.

And yet, it’s kind of beautiful—this stage of bumbling through a culture, making mistakes, and laughing at yourself along the way.

Because what that man was hearing wasn’t a name.

It was an invitation.

Ven.

Come here.

Be here.

And I think México’s been whispering that to me ever since I arrived.

Not to master everything. Not to get it all right.

Just to come closer.

Lisa Babincsak is a San Miguel real estate agent, interior designer, and animal rescuer who also writes personal and soulful stories beyond this column.