Meet The Newest Torta – Luna

13 Sep

EVERYONE in Bacalar had told us “you need to get a dog”. We smiled and nodded and voiced some minor objections. We have never owned a dog (together) in the twenty one years of our relationship. Our busy lives and raising kids didn’t leave a lot of room. So how the heck do we now have three dogs???

Left in a bag on the street covered in ticks and fleas.

Left in a bag on the street covered in ticks and fleas.

Bacalar is a small town. Dogs can be seen running the streets, skeletal, covered in mange and injured. It is too big a problem for us bleeding heart expats to do much about. But it can make a difference to one dog, or three.

Dogs eat garbage, protect the home on a short chain and are dismissed as having much of a life at all. I’ve blogged on the topic previously.

A trip to the vet. Everything checked out.

A trip to the vet. Everything checked out.

Luna came into our lives when our friends heard whimpering in the middle of the night and found her. She was in bad shape unable to lift her head to eat. After some tender mercies she rallied and was soon showing her sweet disposition. We were smitten with puppy love at first meeting.

She definitely prefers a full body siesta.

She definitely prefers a full body siesta.

Life is full of puppy training videos, chew toys and hourly trips to “go potty”. She is about eight weeks old. Sleep when the baby sleeps does not only apply to humans.

Luna loves belly rubs.

Luna loves belly rubs.

We are now moms to a lively, intelligent, teething, and most welcome little critter. Oh, and the other two? Cielo and Sol have moved into our house before we did. Mexican street dogs are very loyal. Give them a regular meal and a head pat and they’re yours forever. A good reason we’re going to fence the yard.DOS TORTAS

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Oh My God I Live With Dos Tortas

6 Sep

Olga – “Remember the time you did that juice fast and you wanted me to do it with you?? Hahaha!”
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Living with Olga has been a blessing. When we suddenly lost our previous living arrangement, she stepped in to offer us a place to stay. We didn’t know each other well, but with the connection of a mutual friend, we gave it a go.

Olga, far left at our wedding reception in Bacalar.

Olga, far left at our wedding reception in Bacalar.

Olga is an accomplished businesswoman in Bacalar. She owns a thriving laundromat along the Costera. Her campground/hostel Jardin de Venus (Venus’s Garden) is always teaming with backpackers from around the world.

Lisa is definitely the glue. She is way more fun and entertaining than I am. A huge perk for us has been speaking Spanish at home. Our speaking and ability to hear has definitely improved.

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Lisa and Olga.

Lisa – Olga’s been a great source of information and connection for us, from living in Bacalar to building our house. Small town Mexico is so much about who you know, and with knowing Olga, we’re in!

Olga – You both are very respectful of privacy and considerate of my space. We will always be friends and it’s nice to have people I trust.

Thank you Olga. We rented a room and made a friend. DOS TORTAS

The stub wall in our guest bath. We brought the glass blocks from Austin and were determined they were to go somewhere.

The stub wall in our guest bath. We brought the glass blocks from Austin and were determined they were to go somewhere.

Shelves the the bodega (pantry).

Shelves the the bodega (pantry).

Large screens finished on the porch.

Large screens finished on the porch.

The doors and windows will be installed this week. Another step closer.
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What You Really Need is a Sense of Humor

30 Aug

The heck with fearlessness! Forget optimism. Without a sense of humor you will never make it as a foreigner living in Mexico. 

With permission from my friend Carla who does Facebook stand-up.

“My bottle of over-the-counter drugs contained pills in two different colors.
*Scenario one – Darn, we’re out of transparent gel caps. I’ll just use those brown ones until the new boxes come in.
*Scenario two – Hey, this bottle is only three/quarters full. That won’t do. Let’s see, there are some extras over here. Antibiotics? Ok can’t hurt, I’ll use them.

Two months later, I think it was scenario one”

Hahaha. Seriously this could happen to you!

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As I see it, my choices are:

Leave

Live here and be miserable and complain incessantly, or

Get a sense of humor.

I choose the latter although many folks choose door number two and of course some people leave.

Laugh at death!

This week I went to retrieve the final approval to build LIsa’s mother’s house. A mistake on the part of our former builder, plus a regime change in the government agency equalled additional time and more $$$. We had received notice that the paperwork was ready so off I went to SEMARNAT, the agency that regulates waterfront construction.

Sitting behind her computer, the officer began typing. She stared at the screen intently, typed a little more and stared some more. I waited, and waited, took some deep breaths, and stayed calm. Gringos are notorious for being impatient. Finally I asked in my friendliest voice if there was a problem? She shrugged her shoulders and declared the network “slow”. It does no good to be frustrated with the lack of communication. “In a minute” could mean a half hour (if you’re lucky).

Mañana doesn’t mean tomorrow. It means just not today.

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As the move-in date comes and goes for our new home, we keep busy and know the universe has its own timeline. Our house is full of workers laying tile, painting the floor, building a stone entry, sanding concrete counters, installing appliances, lights, ceiling fans and more. Our bulldog project manager David meets tomorrow with the key players needed to get electricity installed!! The meeting took four months to arrange. Send prayers.

Tile placement for the stairway to heaven.

Tile placement for the stairway to heaven.

This is a pivotal week. The push is on to finish the interior so that we can begin moving. In the meantime, no taking ourselves too seriously. If it’s not fun, it’s not worth doing. DOS TORTAS
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Life Is Hard – It’s Harder If You’re Stupid

23 Aug

August 2013 we left Austin, Texas for retirement in Mexico. After more than a year of research and planning, visiting and asking questions, we thought we knew something of what we were getting into. Jajaja – that’s laughing in Spanish.

Two years later we are still not living in our own home. Dismantling our expectations has been a daily practice. We are however within spitting distance of completing construction, but my patience is wearing thin. Lisa on the other hand is calm, cool and collected. A real role reversal for us! She is keeping me sane, saner? sanish? Here is a house progress report.

The palm frond overhangs protect from sun and rain. They will be completed is week.

The palm frond overhangs protect from sun and rain. They will be completed this week.

Creating the mold for a poured concrete bathroom sink.

Creating a rebar mold for a poured concrete bathroom sink.

A lip creates an area for potted plants to create a

A lip creates an area for potted plants to create a “jungle” in our shower. Note the light from skylights.

Yesterday we sat in the corner of our porch enjoying the breeze. We've come so far.

Yesterday we sat in the corner of our porch enjoying the breeze. We’ve come so far.

Tile on the roof adds another layer of insulation.

Tile on the roof adds another layer of insulation from the heat.

The appliances have been purchased. The windows will be installed this week. As rooms are finished we can begin to move items from our present location. We are so close. My present anxiety is clearly stupid. There is no hurry. I am believing the lie that my happiness is dependent on where I live. I could be happy if only…. It’s a good thing I have Lisa who chooses to be happy no matter what. We make a good team.

DOS TORTAS

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The One Quality Most Needed to Live in Mexico

16 Aug

When life is so much about being safe, how do I process someone taking a risk, sticking their neck out and saving my bacon?

When we left for the good life in Mexico, everything went…paperless…bill paying, most communications, and all banking. We dotted our i’s and crossed our t’s. We even closed on the sale of our house in Austin from Mexico. It’s easy to feel confident and capable, even a little smug about our ability to live electronically in two worlds, that is until something goes wrong.

Pulling out of our drive in Austin two years ago with everything we own.

Pulling out of our drive in Austin two years ago with everything we own.

Last week I called the investment company where I have been squirreling away money for years. We had been planning to draw funds from the account for the final leg of our house construction. Apparently I had not set up banking information with them as to where to transfer money when I needed a withdrawl. Darn.

Sometimes it's like this, an angel riding shotgun with death in the backseat.

Sometimes it’s like this, an angel riding shotgun with disaster in the backseat.

I discovered that setting up the transfer would take much paperwork, a bank guarantee and a thirty day waiting period. But, but, I live in Mexico!! I’m building a house, I need the money NOW! On top of it all, the conversations were being conducted via Skype which dropped calls repeatedly requiring much redialing.

My dear wife and fellow Torta. What a ride it's been. (The god of corn with cacao pods.)

My dear wife and fellow Torta. What a ride it’s been. (The god of corn with cacao pods.)

I began with the person who answered the phone. After explaining what I wanted, was transferred to their boss, and eventually to THE boss, working my way up the chain of command trying not to sound victimy and whiney. (Not too good with that.) Each step I attempted to convince the person that apologies for putting me on hold were unnecessary. Explaining the rules were mostly unnecessary. I was looking for a loophole.

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I understand that the procedures are in place to protect ME from a slick impersonator wiping out our savings. Requiring a bank guarantee of signature is actual insurance stating that I am me and my signature is mine. To transfer money without that written guarantee meant someone sticking their neck out and probably getting fired if I were a really really good scam artist. And that someone was head boss Maurice. In my book, the man is an angel. He gave me a list of all the documents he would need to make the transfer and provide the loophole. He made no guarantees. I even threw in a few receipts he didn’t ask for just in case. I wish I could have included a dozen roses.

Orchids blooming near an ancient pyramid.

Orchids blooming near an ancient pyramid.

I travelled this week to the U.S. Consulate in Cancun to get a copy of my passport notarized and sent an envelope of documents off via Fedex. Fingers crossed and gods invoked.

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Yesterday the package arrived in New York. I won’t know for a few days if Maurice is convinced and the money is transferred. Our only option at this point is to stay calm and keep building. The one quality most needed to retire in Mexico?….fearlessness. And optimism doesn’t hurt. DOS TORTAS

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A Not So Fun Ending To A Fun Vacation.

9 Aug

“Hiking?!! Why would you do that?!” was my friend Bella’s response to my swollen purple knee. Ha, she doesn’t know me very well. But that was Tuesday, so let me back up….

My last Sunday in San Miguel de Allende presented a cool clear morning and I was eager to soak it up before returning to the humidity that is Bacalar. Retired expats plan lots of activities in San Miguel and my host Nancy invited me to join in the Sunday morning hiking group. I, unlike Bella am always up for a hike, so off we went.

Serious hikers.

Serious hikers gathered at the gas station.

I guessed from the hiking boots and walking sticks that the group meant business. Never one to backdown, I didn’t ask questions as to the level of difficulty, type of trail etc. I also didn’t take into consideration the amount of rain we’d been having or my inadequate footwear. Little did I know the price I would pay.

Heading west.

Heading west.

Everyone spread out as the leaders kept a brisk pace.

Gentle incline.

Gentle incline.

While this wasn’t a technical hike, San Miguel sits over 6,000 feet. Being a sea-level dweller, I found myself expending some effort to keep up.

Mountain mist and muddy terrain.

Mountain mist and muddy terrain.

Picking and choosing my steps through the runoff, I actually stepped out of my shoe at one point as the mud grabbed hold and refused to let me go. And then finally…the top and a lovely view of San Miguel and the scrubby terrain.
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Lunch break.

Lunch break.

The return trip was much quicker (downhill usually is). I listened in on the conversations. Some folks were full-timers and others like many retirees who love to travel, merely call San Miguel home-base. The main grumble was the traffic and parking. As attachment to individual transportation shows no sign of letting up, I am not surprised. However to their credit, the group encourages car-pooling and pays drivers for rides and gas.

And down we went.

And down we went.

A winding muddy trail.

A winding muddy trail.

We were ten minutes from the cars and I was ready to be done, perhaps too ready. The final obstacle was a swollen creek. All it took was one wobbly rock and down I went. I hit my knee hard, but saved the iPad, which of course is the most important thing!
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The Sistine Chapel of the Americas – Atotonilco

2 Aug

During my recent visit to San Miguel, I used my host’s weekly tennis match, to amble down the road to the chapel of Atontonilco, aka the Sistine Chapel of the Americas. The village’s annual celebration had taken place the weekend prior and the fragrance of fresh cut flowers still filled the air. The church dates back to the mid-1700’s and was built after Father Luis Felipe Alfaro stopped to rest under a mesquite tree and had a dream. Jesus wearing a crown of thorns instructed him to build the church, and the rest is history. Buses of penitents visit daily.

Main Alter

Main Alter

A side nave dedicated to the Virgin of the Rosary was built in 1766.

Note the Gold Leaf

Note the Gold Leaf

We had previously visited this church in February 2014 when the Tortas passed through San Miguel. A side chapel (1759-1776) was closed for renovation at the time. This visit, I gladly paid my $15 pesos, about a dollar and passed through the gate to see the new area.

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The Crucifixion of Jesus

I didn’t know where to look first. Every inch of the hall was covered in colorful frescos and life-like statues. It took a few minutes to realize that I was seeing the Way Of The Cross, a depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus. Having been raised Catholic, I knew by heart the images of Good Friday and could almost smell the incense and hear the prayers.

Jesus Dies On the Cross

Jesus Dies On the Cross

For non-Catholics, the imagery can be a bit creepy. People in Mexico who are deeply religious resonate with the suffering. Jesus died for their sins. It’s personal.

Jesus' Body Is Removed From The Cross

Jesus’ Body Is Removed From The Cross

I had the church to myself to wander and was in awe of its beauty and attention to detail. Centuries of faith and devotion were palpable. It is easy to understand how Father Miguel Hidalgo could visit the church on September 16, 1810, and be so inspired that he took the alter banner of the Virgin of Guadalupe and led Mexico’s fight for independence. While few gringos visit Atotonilco, it is well worth the taxi ride from San Miguel. DOS TORTAS image

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A Vacation to San Miguel de Allende

26 Jul

After spending a wonderful week in Northern California visiting my daughter and her family, I returned to Mexico City to begin the next leg of my adventure. After a long day of traveling, I zipped through immigration at 10pm and was very glad to see my host Benito waiting for me with a smile and my name on a placard. God bless AirB&B.

The most luxurious bus I’ve ever ridden in Mexico, complete with leg rests, movie screens and wifi left from the airport the next morning for Queretaro with connections to San Miguel de Allende, my vacation destination.

Executive Class

Executive Class

Torta friend and long-time San Miguel resident, Nancy met me at the bus station and we haven’t slowed down since.

Picking up your mail in San Miguel.

Picking up your mail in San Miguel.

The following day, I explored downtown, while Nancy went to play tennis. Life offers many opportunities here that we do not have in Bacalar.

Absolutely love putzing in the shops around the Jardin (Center).

Absolutely love putzing in the shops around the Jardin (Center).

And then there are the second story gardens. The unusual amount of rain this year has everything green and lush.

Shops and houses are built around courtyards. Just look up!

Shops and houses are built around courtyards. Just look up!

The locals, expats, and tourists meet in the downtown park for a San Miguel favorite pastime, people-watching. You never know what you’ll see…

The majestic cathedral of Saint Michael is the heart of the city.

The majestic cathedral of Saint Michael is the heart of the city. A giant Freda Kalo provides a photo-op.

Nancy is an amazing ceramic artist. This is one of her pieces showing in a local gallery.

Galeria San Francisco.

Galeria San Francisco.

I have a feeling it will take several weeks to post all the wonderful photos from this amazing city. I leave Wednesday to see my wife and view the progress on our house. Today is also the first anniversary of our marriage ceremony last year in California. Happy Anniversary Darling.

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Ciudad de México – Part Dos

19 Jul

In preparing for my layover in Mexico City, I searched Air B&B for someplace simple and near the airport. I found a small hostel and booked a room for the night. We have had a few experiences with hostels. In Turkey we met travelers from all over the world, a range of ages and in various states of jet lag. A hostel usually has kitchen privileges and breakfast provided. Rooms can be shared in bunk bed fashion with bathroom down the hall. I read the reviews, booked a private room for a few more pesos and was glad to have a reservation. I got a taxi at the airport when I landed and was off.

Aguascalientes #33

Aguascalientes #33

I arrived at an attractive entrance and offloaded my bags.

Stairs to upper rooms.

Stairs to upper rooms. Hostels are always funky yet interesting.

Everything appeared clean and bright. I was offered my choice of two rooms and selected the lower level to avoid climbing stairs to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. At that point things began to go downhill for me. The owner smoked in the common area. Not great, but not a deal breaker. I then noticed the strong smell of cleaning chemicals in my room. My asthmatic lungs began to resist. Not sure what to do, I left the room open to air out and headed to the Frieda Kalo Museum.

Brushes hung from the easel.

Brushes hung from the easel.

Inspiration for the studio we are building.

Inspiration for the studio we are building.

The entire visit to the museum is chronicled In Mexico City – Frieda Kalo Museum. The rain became heavy as I left the museum but I knew I wasn’t ready to return to the hostel. The taxi driver had told me that the surrounding neighborhood of Coyoacán had restaurants and arts and crafts vendors. That was all he needed to say for me to brave the elements and throw my jacket over my head.

Typical baskets of Central Mexico.

Typical baskets of Central Mexico.

I LOVE the surprises of turning down an alley and finding a huge colorful mercado full of people searching for dinner, shopping or getting out of the rain. The colors and fragrances from the many stalls made me a happy Torta.

Wouldn't you love to have this in your neighborhood?

Wouldn’t you love to have this in your neighborhood?

I wandered up and down the aisles, poking my head in the shops to ooo and ahhh.

Some stalls had organic produce.

Some stalls had organic produce.

I wish I had taken more pictures, but sometimes it is necessary to breathe in an experience without recording it. I found a food stall for dinner and reluctantly returned to the hostel as I was getting tired and still had a trip to California waiting the next day. The room was ok. I managed to sleep and make my early flight. I have made reservations for my return at another location. On Tuesday I return to Mexico. It’s been wonderful to visit my daughter and her family. It’s time to finish our house so that we can be here in the fall for the birth of our grandson. Besides, I miss my sweetheart Lisa.

Healdsburg, CA

Healdsburg, CA

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Frieda Kalo Museum – Mexico City

12 Jul

On my recent travels to California from our home in Bacalar Mexico, I had a layover in Mexico City. It’s been many years since I visited one of the world’s largest cities. I stayed in a small hostel near the airport having an early morning flight the following day. I had done my research on what to do nearby with an afternoon in this city known for museums, mercados and amistad (friendship). The Frieda Kalo Museum was a taxi drive away, so off I went on a Torta adventure.

I was surprised to see so many people had the same idea on a gray, cool, weekday afternoon. After a thirty minute wait, listening to all the different languages spoken around me, I entered the great blue wall that housed the artist’s compound.

Waiting in line.

Waiting in line.

Large paper mâché figures welcomed all guests.

Welcome from overhead.

Welcome from overhead.

I was immediately transfixed by the large garden at the center. Her presence was there. I could imagine her sitting peacefully with the plants, fountains and sky.

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Garden paths.

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Entrance to the house and private antiquities collection.

Entrance to the house and private antiquities collection.

Walking through the house I was struck by her work. I believe that she was one of the most self-assured women in history. She put herself out there in photography and paint and really didn’t seem to care what others thought of her work. After a debilitating accident in her youth, her art was an expression of both pain and her unique view of life.

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I was transfixed by her use of color.

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As I walked through the house, I could feel the presence of many historical figures that had once graced the dinner table.

A colorful stove to prepare the meals.

A colorful stove to prepare the meals.

Fragrant aromas of traditional dishes filled my imagination.

Fragrant aromas of traditional dishes filled my imagination.

Seeing her art studio brought tears to my eyes.

Painting from pain.

Painting from pain.

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The small bedroom with mirror affixed to the ceiling allowed her to paint self-portraits lying on her back.
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Her funeral urn was at the foot of the bed.

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The sky opened as I was preparing to leave the museum. A cold rain did not stop me and I set off to visit the mercado of Coyoacán. To be continued…DOS TORTAS

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