Thursday, January 22, 2015

Expecting the Unexpected

Dutifully, we read a lot online before we came down here: different riffs on the obligatory "What to Expect in Mexico" and a variety of articles listing "Ten Things that are Hard To Get Used to " The writers almost all list the same things: you have to ask for the check at restaurants, no one has change for any bills larger than $20, the noise in the 'hood is sometimes deafening (cohetes, bandas, geese, roosters and dogs), and Mexicans hate to disappoint you by telling you they are out of a certain item.  

No deal breakers, but interesting to see that most travel writers focus on the same ten items-and we've found them all to be true.  I've also had some weird personal challenges:

1.     I feel guilty my new adopted kitty, with a couple of deft swats, has installed herself firmly at the top of the pecking order.  She only gives eye contact if she feels like it.  We all live to serve the kitty.






2.     I've been a gardener all my life, but now I'm self-conscious planting seeds in front of Tony (the real gardener) as if I’m not doing it to his standard.  I tend to do scatter shot, he likes neat rows.  Lettuce and spinach are coming up in neat rows...



3.     When I have a piece of trash in my hand, I anxiously go to the chart on the fridge to try to figure out where to put it.  Does the bacon plastic go in my container of used condoms and syringes or the container with my used Kleenexes or the container that holds the fish heads with little crosses where his little eyes used to be?  I’m so confused!  Last week, the trash men  REJECTED my trash because it wasn't sorted correctly.  Tony (the real gardener) went through the trash to fix our mistakes. Ugh!




That said, the delights of Mexico are myriad.  There is lots of unexpected grace and there have been many kindnesses shown to us. Our Mexican neighbors are delightful and we've found our tiny town has embraced us. 


Natural beauty is everywhere inside my four walls.





Hilde surveying her yard:
I can’t complain that the flocks of colorful birds and hummers eschew sugar water and seed (offered on crystal plates!) in favor of the natural bounty in the yard.  And the weather! Oh, man! 

“Excellent weather at affordable prices”, Evdad likes to say.  

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Nights and Days

We had a couple of cool nights warranting a fire to knock the chill off:
The mornings are cool enough that my breath smokes.  And yet warm:  sitting in the sun, I'm compelled to  take my robe off.  This is what I contemplate each morning as I drink coffee:  "Where is the best palapa placement for the casita?"
 After coffee this morning we walked to Cinco Potrillos for huevos rancheros and then over to the square where I spotted a joyeria.  The battery on my watch croaked the second day I was here.  "No, senora, we don't service watches-too many batteries to have to stock"  Dang.  Next week I'll make a decision about the importance of  knowing the time and date with a glance to my wrist.

There is a little storefront next to the church that does a brisk business selling fruits and vegetables. We've been eating an awful lot of tortillas and cheese so I stopped to stock up.  (He had broccoli and leaf lettuce)  I raised my eyebrow at the price of the squash and the vendor explained seriously that he was doing business in the shadow of the Virgen and, therefore, was only able to give me the best prices. Virgen sanctioned prices-mmm hmmm.

 The grapefruit have been out of this world: heavy and sweet with big sections.  The pineapple smells divine.  Evboy made us a salad for dinner (I've never been fond of carrots, but wow!)  and I made calabacitas.  The beans are "new beans" meaning they aren't quite dried yet.  This whole pile was 67 pesos-somewhere under 5 bucks.

I have to wait for the guayaba to ripen as per the instructions given by the vendor.  He recommends putting them in "ponche".  I might just put them on my pillow and let the scent intoxicate me as I drift off to sleep.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Aguas Termales, San Juan Cosala

Last weekend, on our way around the lake, Evboy and I drove past the Aguas Termales so I could get a bead on their exact location.  The place was teeming with people, there was no place to park and the vendors outside the pools/hotel/restaurant were selling floaties and toddler swim rings at two bucks a pop.  A far cry from the quiet hot water interlude I was wanting.

Today is Friday, the last weekday before the boy has to go home.  We decided to risk it all and go.  We were one of two cars parked in the street in front of the joint.
The place was populated with three quiet kids in their early twenties and one old guy who could have been in his 90's.  He was soon joined by his elderly spouse-she demurely changed out of her track suit into her swimming suit under a towel.  I couldn't hear what she was saying, but the boys said she was complaining "a small was too small and a medium was too large"...all the while doing a great impersonation of a runway model.  While I was looking at the leopard print on her suit I'll be darned if she didn't peel it off right then and there and change into a different one.  I was flummoxed-was I in shock or awe?  I quickly focused our attention on watching this cloud grow and blacken the sky, though I did keep my eye on the old biddy to see what other shenanigans she might pull.





The afternoon was whiled away-no one thought to bring reading material.  We ordered the go-to drink down here called a Michelada-a concoction of tomato product, clam juice, hot sauce and beer.  Micheladas come with a bowl of hot peanuts.  We discovered the littlest birds are the bravest.


Sunday, January 4, 2015

January 4, 2015

Evboy and I took a drive this afternoon to circumnavigate Lake Chapala.  It was  a four-hour tour of all the different crops in cultivation around the area.  The soil is a deep black and spits forth blackberries the size of my big toe, blueberries that are small and brightly flavored and raspberries that we haven't tried yet.  We also saw agave, sugar cane, squash and a small bush I couldn't place.

The villages were teeming with Sunday families doing their shopping and eating at roadside stands.  I kept seeing men stirring gigantic woks over open fires, mounded with green-fava?  lima? what?  We stopped and I watched a grandpa picking pods off of the formerly unidentified bushes and handing baskets full to his son who was stirring the wok.   I bought a dollar bag, turns out they were fresh garbanzo beans.   A delicious combination of steamy heat, salt and smoke.  We made a mess in the car.

Evboy's Spanish is really progressing.  Today he went from "oh, shit! a tope!"  To, "what? my camino de doble carril has a pinche tope on it?"  Speed bumps.  Everywhere and unexpected.

Change of subject:  our gardener, Tony, asked for seeds for "rabanas" so when I was in California visiting Evboy this summer, I bought him some heirloom seeds.  He had them grown and ready to pick when we arrived 4 days ago.  Tony took us on a tour and pointed them out, then expounded on all the way he likes to eat rabanas.  I've never been a fan.  Today, after the garbanzo bean experience, we decided to give them a try the fanciest way I knew how: with butter and special salt.  They are beautiful, crunchy, peppery and all that.  Still not a fan.