Daniel, a Mexican boy, arrives to school Monday morning wearing a brand new pair of light up sneakers that his father brought him from a business trip in the United States. When a classmate arrives to school wearing exact same sneakers, he begins to suspect that their shoes are the key to a terrible secret.

Director’s Vision for ‘Business Trip’

My first notion of social class distinctions, before I even had a real understanding of class itself, was manifested through the clothes my classmates wore to school. In the late nineties, the United States was a bastion of all that was good and strong and wearing American brands was the ultimate symbol of social status. On long weekends, the wealthiest of families would travel to places like McAllen, San Antonio, and Brownsville, Texas for shopping trips disguised as tourism. On Mondays those lucky kids wore new clothes from Hollister, Abercrombie, and Nike, and they brought new toys, Walkmans, and candy that I had never before seen in my life. At the weekly flag ceremony we stammered through the National Anthem, but at the Christmas concert we belted Christmas carols in English, showing our parents how much better we pronounced the words than them. When computers arrived to the classroom, we used Limewire to download music from Eminem, Guns N Roses, and 50 Cent. My best friend boasted often and to everyone of having gone to New York, despite the fact he was one year old when he made that trip and therefore had no recollection of it. Vicente Fox won the election for the presidency, and a rumor spread around the school that his victory was in part due to the fact that he had been the CEO of Coca Cola Mexico.

When I finally made it to America to study in New York, I got to know this American culture for what it was, not what I dreamed it to be. In Viaje de Negocios, Daniel uncovers a terrible truth about his dad, his symbol of strength and wealth and goodness. This film is a watershed moment, a seminal memory of growing up and losing something for the first time- some belief, some ideal. The red of Daniel’s new shoes might begin to look garish, the little plastic lights on the heels might dim, and the pain in wearing them might overtake the pride in what they represent. I look back, now, at our malinchismo, and it makes me laugh but it also makes me wonder. Perhaps it was nothing more than a custom, a consequence of historical wounds and of larger, looming political and economic powers. Perhaps it was something I needed to lose, something I needed to really uncover for myself.