This week Lisa did our taxes and we had some overdue conversations about finances. We are blessed in so many ways. We have very similar sensibilities about money. Spending has never been a source of contention since we are both quite frugal. Our conscious spending and wise investing means we don’t have to worry about our retirement income. We are very blessed and grateful.
Such lovely mornings in Bacalar.
It’s always a challenge to figure out how long we’re going to live. Illness and disability can eat up savings and death can cut off pensions and diminish social security. Living in Mexico has been a blessing for us. Our house is paid for and expenses are relatively low.
The view that reduces stress.
We have been working on improving our health through eating plant-based and cutting out salt, sugar and oil. My blood pressure is such that I’ve halved my medication and am close to being able to cut it out all together. My cholesterol is lower than it’s ever been.
In my second year of weight training.
I am so grateful to Lisa. For years we have eaten very differently. Her recent willingness to explore a plant-based diet has been a huge help. From what I’ve read eating predominantly fruits and vegetables reduces inflammation and is the way to go. At this rate, we could all live vibrantly to 100 and beyond.
Whether or not you celebrate Easter, Passover or Solstice as a spiritual practice, it’s a good time to take a break. Semana Santa or Holy Week is a widely celebrated national holiday in Mexico. Everyone gets a week off work, banks and businesses are closed and Bacalar is a vacation destination for many. Surprisingly the past week has been relatively quiet in our neck of the jungle, much to the chagrin I’m sure, of the million and one new hotels that have been popping up in anticipation of the Mayan Train.
Rooftop Easter sunrise.
I thought I’d share some of my latest artwork. Procreate is a drawing application that allows me to play with color, line and form on my iPad mini. I am totally a novice and use very few of the features it offers.
Let’s DanceFind The Ice Cream ConeBacalar SunriseHacienda Best Friends
The remote places of Mexico were easier to find in 1973. Three students, of which I was one, traveled down a beach road to a time forgotten. We spent a week with a family who was eeking out a living on the Pacific coast south of Acapulco.
This odd “parking space” was for drying coconuts! Taken on my old film camera.
Probably the most memorable activity of the week was drinking cold rum and coke. There were glass bottles of coca cola stacked against the house. One day, the fishermen were taking a run into town for supplies and asked if we wanted anything. Thinking we would provide a little fun for everyone, one of my fellow students gave them some pesos for a bottle of rum. When the rum arrived, we discovered to our surprise that none of the guys wanted any.
We bought our coke from Maria and proceeded to pour ourselves a drink. It was then that one of the fishermen casually asked us the most amazing question … “Quieres hielo?”
Old cases of coke,
It doesn’t take much Spanish language skill to know that hielo means ice. ICE? With no electricity and no running water, how could he be asking us if we wanted ice? My brain imploded with confusion.
Then this fellow proceeded to walk over to a large pile of wood chips that I hadn’t even noticed. And there, buried deep underneath was a block of ice. He pulled out an pick and hacked us off enough to fill our glasses. Voila! Cold rum and cokes. Talk about having to pinch yourself!
Cuba libre
I sat with my companions and watched the sunset, feet in the Pacific, miles from anywhere drinking cold rum and coke. We later realized that the ice was used to keep the fish cold for its trip to market in Acapulco. Wood chips provide adequate insulation. Who knew.
The boss showed up to haul the week’s catch to Acapulco. He is weighing the fish.
We three students from California, Connecticut and myself from New Jersey would never be the same. I think this is the first time I really talked about the experience in detail. The three of us went our separate ways after our adventure and never hung out again. For me, having met people with so few possessions who appeared so happy changed me. I realize that I was only there a week. I don’t want to glorify poverty as I’m sure they had their own problems. In the repaired van we said our goodbyes to return to classes having to force money on them to cover our stay. And like the 1954 musical Brigadoon, the veil closed and we went back to our student lives. Forever changed.
DOS TORTAS
A Gene Kelly taps with men in kilts from the magical village of Brigadoon.
Our beach vacation to Acapulco in 1973 was a step into a very different world from today. Heck, it was a different world from the rest of Mexico in 1973. The family we stumbled upon was operating a kitchen to feed a group of men who slept by day and fished by night. Maria, the chief cook was unfazed by a few more mouths to feed, hospitality at its best.
Our days began with breakfast which included fish in all its variations. The men were fishing in small boats by gas lantern and our meal had been caught the night before.
The child to the left retrieved water from God knows where with buckets balanced on poles across her shoulders.
The tortillas that were part of every meal were hand formed and cooked on a flat iron griddle called a comal. The comal was balanced on bricks over a hot wood fire. Maria delivered the tortillas to the table and we could barely retrieve them from the traditional woven basket in the center. Her hands were smooth leather and the piping hot corn disks tasted like no tortillas I had ever eaten then or since.
Staying in such a remote location we had to question where everything we consumed came from. There was no quick trip down the street to a little tortillaría or person who showed up on a scooter to deliver a kilo or two. Today, every restaurant in Bacalar has a delivery scooter on speed dial.
Tortillas are still a staple of Mexican diet.
One day a man showed up in camp leading a donkey with two burlap bags of corn cobs slung over its back. Maria and grandma shucked the corn and put the kernels to soak in a tub of water with lime powder. The process is called nixtamalization and causes the kernels to break down. Most tortillas in Mexico today are made from highly processed corn flour and taste like cardboard. The softened corn is then fed into a hand grinder and made into masa and the best tortillas in the world.
Non-GMO corn is quite tough.
The stock photo setup that is far more sophisticated than Maria had.
Few Mexicans today have ever tasted real tortillas. You can buy masa to press and grill your own, but the dough is made from highly processed corn flour.
A simple tortilla press can be found in most homes. Today you can buy ones that press and cook the tortillas right at the table, similar to a waffle iron.
The family we stayed with worked hard. But after the stunning Pacific sunset, a gas lantern provided the only light, and intense games of dominos ensued. One of my companions brought his guitar which was a big hit. Thinking back, all I can say is, “what an experience “.
When planning our escape from the United States in 2013, I spent hours researching house construction for tropical living. When all else fails, look to the indigenous population for a cooling, inexpensive, and sustainable construction. Palapas, i.e. thatched huts can be found in the fanciest hotels in Cancun or the simplest villages deep in the interior jungle. They are beautiful, functional, traditional and synonyms with the Mexican Caribbeanand Pacific.
Acapulco Rancho Encantado Bacalar
We have used palapas as overhangs to keep rain and sun out. Our dock is covered with a palapa to provide shade while viewing the laguna or reading in the hammock.
The front of our house.
Only this week did I have the opportunity to view up close and personal the construction of a palapa porch for our new guest room. They really are a work of art and their builder a true artisan.
Grass fronds delivered.A porch to provide shade,Original laundry room transformed.
There are many details that only the artist knows. The angles must be specific, the grasses woven correctly and the netting applied to keep the whole thing from flying away. Of course a tropical storm or hurricane can do the job, but we’ve been lucky.
In order to introduce a group of US students to Mexican culture, a three weeks intensive was set aside by the Universityof the Americas in Cholula, Puebla. I was one of those students.
Week 1) Prehispanic Mexico included trips to ancient pyramids, modern museums and studies of conquest by foreign invaders.
Museum of Anthropology, Mexico City (replica of the pyramids of Ek Balam 100 BC)Catholic Church built on top of one of the largest pyramids in the world. Cholula, Puebla View from the top of the Cholula pyramid 1973 and 2017. The city population has exploded.
Week 2) Colonial Mexico which included visits to cathedrals, studies of French, Spanish and US revolutions and land grabs, and the decimation of native populations.
Mexico City 1973. The main cathedral built on the Zocalo (main square).
Week 3) Modern Mexico included government function, political factions and the election process.
The Center of Three Cultures. In 1964 while preparing for the Summer Olympics, student protesters were herded into a dead end street and shot at from the high rise apartments seen in the photo. One of my teachers was a survivor of this stain on Mexican history.
I was enchanted by the good, the bad and the ugly of Mexican history. I had lived in a neighboring country and knew none of what I was studying. By comparison the United States had no culture. At least in my mind. There was so much to absorb. Today I have come to appreciate Mexican pride, food, artists, music, devotion to family, dance, literature, language and spirituality. It is a lovely country to visit and live in.
This week one of our workers came to the door to inform me that a man at the hotel next door was yelling at him over the fence. He failed to tell me that the man was naked. Puzzled at what the problem could be, I walked outside to investigate. Why didn’t I think to grab my phone and record the less than neighborly interaction? I could have gone viral! A YouTube sensation.
Lisa and I share a wall with a neighbor who owns a small hotel. We had to cut some bamboo to allow space for the overhang to the guest room we are building. The bamboo has provided a visual barrier between us and the numerous guests who pass in and out of the hotelito. The naked Canadian who is currently staying next door came up to the shared wall yelling at me, insisting that I had to put back up a visual barrier where we had cut the bamboo. He didn’t want to look into our property. I attempted to explain to him that he was welcome to add a barrier on his side, as we were not required to do so. The bamboo is ours to do what we like.
Carlos our worker and the bamboo we had to removed to create an overhang on the end of the casita.
This particular gentleman has spent weeks during past Canadian winters staying in Bacalar in exchange for working at the hotel. This is not my first experience of watching him run around naked next door. He begins his day smoking pot and drinking. By the time he spoke to me, nothing he was saying made sense. His ranting continued along with him waving his penis at me in protest. Such a photo op missed.
Here is where we cut bamboo and got an eyeful across the fence. We definitely will be replacing the bamboo with a fence.
Mr Naked then proceeded to place a small speaker on the roof between us and blast very loud, uh, nothing I’d call music in our direction. I left it alone, composed myself and went outside again to try and talk to him, He then came up to the wall, inches from me and grabbed the wire part of the fence and stated, “this (fence) belongs to Teresa (hotel owner)?” He repeated his question several times, perhaps letting his own stupidity sink in. Finally he looked me in the eye and apologized. I wasn’t expecting that! He took down the speaker and I watched his nalgas walk away.
Windows being installed. I’m already in love with the space.
The workers shook their heads in disbelief. On one thing we all agreed, it was a good thing Lisa wasn’t there. Having her grab a machete and jump the fence would not have ended well for anyone. Lol. Why didn’t I think to grab my phone. Sigh. We could have gone viral.
The University transport chugged along through the mountains from Mexico City to Puebla. We were high enough that my ears popped 2,240 meters (7,350 ft). I never had altitude sickness thank God, but some of the students did.
Arriving in Puebla, I shared a room in a boarding house with a fellow traveler, Lela from Colorado. She was blond where I was dark. We both had four siblings and were raised Catholic. We even unpacked the same perfume. As a Spanish major, her Spanish was much better than mine. We became fast friends. The room included meals which were an introduction to Mexican cuisine. I’d never eaten tortillas in my life. Their fragrance was nothing I’d ever experienced. I found it strange at first but later it meant Mexico and home to me.
The wonderful corn tortillas of central Mexico.
The university was closed for summer break. In order to receive credit for a full semester we had a three-week class called Introduction to Mexico. It was an amazing three weeks. Week ONE covered pre-Hispanic Mexico. We learned about the Aztec, Olmec and Mayan civilizations. We traveled in the little green bus to Teotihuacan outside of Mexico City. We dined on traditional mole (MO-lay, like guacamole) Poblano, a bitter spicy chocolate sauce poured over chicken or vegetable filled tortillas. The recipe has more than 20 ingredients and is kept secret, handed down for generations.
I LOVE mole, but Lisa not so much.Gotta love the grunge look and long hair of the 70’s.Teotihuacan, (Aztec) on top of the pyramid of the moon with the pyramid of the sun in the background.Replicating the places I visited in 1973, 44 years later.The Temple of the Feathered Serpent is the third largest pyramid at Teotihuacan, a pre-Columbian site in central Mexico. This structure is notable partly due to the discovery in the 1980s of more than a hundred possibly sacrificial victims found buried beneath the structure. Wikipedia Olmec carved basalt boulders dating 900 BC near Vera Cruz.
Our Week TWO of Mexican Culture covered Colonial Mexico, Spanish influence, cathedrals, indigenous rights and revolutions. Stay tuned next week for more adventures part three.
I’m so grateful that I got the X-ray and pain meds from my doctor. I guess two weeks with the inability to cough, laugh, sneeze, and turn over in bed, not to mention the screaming in pain, finally overcame my stubbornness. I suppose that the management of pain never crossed my mind as “something that can be done”.
Sometimes I’m just plain stupid.
It’s amazing how we use our upper body and arms for so many things, like standing from a seated position. I found myself scooting forward and using my legs to stand. All those squats came in handy. Do try it.
A full moon week.
There will be no bicep curls, bench presses or push ups for awhile. I can’t even carry a pitcher of water from the refrigerator to the counter. I am feeling better and this week we’ll begin cutting back on the meds. I hope it will clear my fuzzy brain a bit,
Sunday sunrise on Lake Bacalar.
Google says six to eight weeks. Today is three. I must admit to looking longingly at my gym clothes while selecting pajamas and sweatpants for daily attire. Sigh.
A little vid of our home and property.
I will continue to rest and stay drugged as needed. I am supremely grateful to my wife for taking such good care of me, and Dr. Oscar for the pain management. Life is good. So for another week, be well and don’t trip over any air mattresses.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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