Tag Archives: Laguna Bacalar

Love Means Having Your Back

27 Jul

After ten months of recovering from an accident where I broke my femur and had surgery, I get down quite often. I want to be able to walk without pain or limping. The other day, in a tearful fit of feeling sorry for myself, Lisa reminded me how far I’ve come and said, “you’re doing great, you’re still healing .”

My surgeon said it would take a year.

Lisa has my back which makes all the difference in my healing process. Her comment also reminded me of when my mother had my back growing up.

My unstoppable mother.

I missed a lot of school as a kid due to asthma. In those days there wasn’t really any treatment. One day I returned to second grade having forgotten to bring my rosary. Bless their hearts those nuns had a lot of rules. I believe my “fine” was a quarter (25 cents) and I refused to pay it. I was about eight or so with an inflated indignation and sense of fairness.

Summer vacation.

The end of the school year came and Sr Angela refused to give me my report card until I paid up. I went to my mother who marched with me to the principal’s office to let me plead my case. The teacher was called on the carpet and turned over my report card tout suite.

Such a good Catholic girl.

It wasn’t the last time my mom had my back. She bought me long white gloves and a rabbit fur cape for my junior prom. They were adornments that I didn’t know I needed. God knows where she got the money, but it was important to her. I was her only daughter and no one had done those things for her.

1969

After almost thirty-one years I have so much gratitude for my wife. Having her in my corner means the world to me. Also thanks Mom,

DOS TORTAS

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Stella Rules The World

29 Jun

None of us is getting any younger. I am seventy-three, and my spouse of thirty years is sixty-one. My mother-in-law who lives with us is eighty-one. Our dogs Stella (pug) and Luna (mix), whom we adore, both turn ten this year.

We had a friend Patty who fell three years ago Christmas. She hit her head and died. Her much older, cantankerous, whiskey guzzling, cigar smoking, big bellied husband, whom she cared for, is still alive today. None of us knows how much time we have.

Patty and her beloved Bonita.

There is a fine line between living in the moment and being prepared for the inevitable. Lisa and I have Wills and Powers of Attorney. But we also go to the gym most days and eat a lot of salads.

Not bad for seventy-three.

This past weekend, Stella quit eating. Now if you know anything about pugs, you know that they live to eat. About an hour before her daily meal time, she vehemently reminds us that she is starving and her demise is eminent. Seeing her turn and walk away from dinner had our anxiety up and Lisa frantically searching the internet for a possible explanation.

Our little blind pug.

When I was a kid, we had a dachshund name Fritz. Every summer he went camping with us. I’m not sure why Mom didn’t bring his usual wet food but he’d get dry food on the road. Inevitably he’d turn up his nose and refuse to eat. My mother’s attitude was quite different from ours. “When he’s hungry enough, he’ll eat”. She’d pick up the untouched food and present him with it the next mealtime. Of course she was right and eventually he ate.

Fritz looked quite similar to this handsome chap.

We’ll never know how long Stella would have held out. The conversation quickly turned to taking her to the vet. She had never skipped a meal in her life. With suggestions from the online world, we removed her slow-eating bowel and simplified her food. And of course she’s back enthusiastically snarfing down her dinner.

That princess has us wrapped around her paw. When she eventually crosses the rainbow bridge we will take it very hard. But for now she is doing quite well and so are we.

DOS TORTAS

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A Rose By Any Other Name

22 Jun

You better take notes, because this is going to be a wild ride.

When I was born, my birth certificate read Alice (after my grandmother) Ann Hoeft. I started school and my mother insisted that the nuns call me Alice Ann. It was the same with any other person I met. She corrected them if they called me Alice. I’m sure she loved the name, but it never felt like me.

When I married in 1982, my husband wanted me to take his last name, as women for years have been convinced, is in their best interest. Thus I became Alice Ann Fisher.

When I came out, in my forties, I had had enough and legally changed my name to Alex. I loved it. No more explaining or correcting. Thus, Alex A Fisher was born. It is the name I have used for thirty years and is on my passport, driver’s license, bank accounts and social security card, etc. Most people in my life have never heard this story and know me only as Alex.

A few weeks ago I applied for a birth certificate from the State of New Jersey. That’s when the fun began. I understand that I must explain my name changes from birth to present. I have the legal document that changed my name from Alice to Alex. But I didn’t have a marriage certificate to support changing my name to Fisher. No problemo, I spoke to a lovely woman at Travis County Clerk’s Office in Texas and she sent me an official copy with gold star and raised seal.

I submitted the marriage document and a slew of other records to prove my identity to VITAL RECORDS ONLINE, the agency that screens for the State of New Jersey, my birth state. I almost immediately received an email stating that a Marriage License is NOT a Marriage Certificate which is required.

I called Travis County and another lovely clerk informed me that the document they sent me is in fact a marriage certificate and the only thing they have. Reading the document closely one clearly sees that a union was performed, signed by a judge and certified by the State of Texas.

I stated all this to Vital Records and they began to sound more like Broken Records. Since they weren’t reading my emails, I tried to call per their friendly “if you have any questions please call” phone number. Yeah, that didn’t work. After kindly telling me that there was a thirty minute wait and press ‘1’ for this and ‘2’ for that, I gave up trying to talk to a human being.

A few days later, I got another email from Vital Records telling me that I can submit the Marriage License but it may be rejected by NJ and asking how I wanted to proceed. I didn’t see any other option so I told them to continue.

It’s hard to express my frustration without using a lot of colorful language. Not much disturbs my peace these days, but this week was a doozie. It will take awhile before I find out if I get my birth certificate and don’t even ask me how much it all cost.

DOS TORTAS

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A Plague Of Ranas (Frogs)

8 Jun

I wouldn’t exactly call it a plague but I have escorted four frogs out of the house this week. Where? How? I have no idea. I flicked the light on in the pantry and there at eye level sat a small tree frog. I wanted to go for my camera but I was afraid it would jump and then I’d spend the rest of the night looking for it. I grabbed a yogurt container and carefully slid the lid underneath. After gingerly placing it outside, I returned to turn off the light and THERE WAS ANOTHER ONE! sitting in almost the same spot. Was my mind playing tricks on me? IDK but I repeated the capture and released the bugger outside. If it hadn’t been the third and fourth frog I had captured this week, I’d surely have been ready for the looney bin.

Cute little critters. Stock photo.

DOS TORTAS

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Almost Summer In The Tropics

1 Jun

Looking back at the blog from a year ago I realize that this is certainly the hot time of the year on the Costa Maya. We are over due for a storm.

Cooling off. This week’s weather predictions

If the coming week’s predictions are correct, we just might get that storm. Weather in Bacalar is anything but predictable. There can be a downpour three miles away and we don’t get a drop of rain. Such is life in the tropics.

Meanwhile, around the property,

Lizards who hang out on our compost pile.
Blooming cactus.

During this hot time of year, there isn’t much energy to do anything. I went back to the gym this week. I’m determined to get stronger. My body is seriously objecting.

As we head into summer on this first day of June, find someplace to swim, eat a light supper under the stars, and toast to almost half way through 2025.

DOS TORTAS

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Three Funerals

18 May

Moving to a country that is not our origin takes effort that we did not always foresee. For almost twelve years we have attempted to make friends and create relationships. Some lessons learned –

  1. Traveling “home” to maintain relationships is not as easy as we thought, especially as we age.
  2. People/family do not visit. Travel these days is just not easy.
  3. Most of the people we met and socialized with in the early years of living in Bacalar have moved on. Aging in place has challenges we didn’t foresee.
  4. We’ve made friends with locals and treasure the connections. Barriers have lessened as our language skills have improved.

Another way we have built relationships is by showing up.

In the US, workers and managers don’t really mix, classism at its finest. Things are more muddled here. The economic disparity with the US allows us to hire help with cleaning and house maintenance. Workers take pride in their jobs and we pay them well.

This week we bumped into a friend who has been our massage therapist for many years. She said that her mother was dying and burst into tears. Two days later, our gardener asked for time off since his mother-in-law died. It was Lisa who put it together that they were related. We didn’t know!

Gathering of family and neighbors.

We saw the surprise in peoples’ faces as we showed up to a backyard where a coffin sat to one side marked with candles and flowers. My grandmother taught me that when someone dies you show up, so we did.

Trying to be discreet does not produce the best pictures.

The next day we attended the funeral mass.

It was the third funeral we’ve attended in Mexico. Having a coffin set up in your home is not something we’re used to in the US. In Bacalar, neighbors and family sit together, keeping vigil, telling stories, and eating. We did not stay long, but we showed up and contributed to the expense.

The church of San Joaquin

Attending funerals has made us a part of a world that is very different from ours. We did not expect that this is how we would connect. There will likely be many more in our future.

DOS TORTAS

Bacalar Panteón

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Mexican Markets Make Me Happy

20 Apr

There’s nothing like a Saturday morning spent exploring a little neighborhood mercado. This particular one is a favorite of ours. There are plants blooming, music that makes you want to dance and many food vendors filling the air with their enticing aromas.

From top left, my MIL, a pineapple, bougainvillea and spicy habanero peppers.

One of my favorite things to do is to strike up a conversation with locals. They are so curious about us foreigners and when they find someone who can speak Spanish, the questions come pouring out, especially about current US politics.

My favorite tropical fruit, guanábana aka soursop. Creamy and delicious.
Sweet tamale with raisins.

Sampling this tamale brought happy tears to my eyes. Tamales in the tropics are made in banana leaves. These tamales were advertised as estilo de DF or made in the style of central Mexico, cooked in corn husks. They tasted exactly like the ones my Mexican mama made for me to celebrate my twenty-first birthday in 1973. It’s funny how a taste or smell can take you back.

No market day would be complete without a frenchie. This stunning brindle was a bruiser named Thor or in Spanish Tor.

An abundance of color. Papayas and limes.

My mobility is still limited but this was a great way to test my limitations, A really fun morning.

DOS TORTAS

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Vacation Memories Continued

6 Apr

Our trip to Cape Hatteras, North Carolina in 1961 holds the fondest vacation memories for me. An eight and a half hour drive from New Jersey, I don’t know how my parents did it with five kids and my cousin Pat. The NC coast was our destination with its picturesque lighthouse, sand dunes and museum of the Wright Brothers, who got the first airplane off the ground at Kitty Hawk.

1903
Keeping sand out of the tent was a full-time job.

My Dad, ever the nature lover, had us up at dawn to take a guided nature walk along the beach, peering into tide pools, collecting shells and tromping through marshlands.

Hatteras Lighthouse

One day we took a ferry to the Outer Banks. We spent the day at the State Park, swimming, building sand castles and getting sun burned. In line for the ferry back to our campsite we discovered that one of two ferries had run aground on a sandbar. We waited for hours, out of drinking water and food, expecting to have been back for dinner.

The ferry present day.

As the afternoon wore on, my mother decided to take the five kids, youngest age three to ride the ferry and walk back to the campground. Dad and brother William (8) were to stay with the car. Sounded like a plan.

Coquina shells found along the Outer Banks beach.

The trouble was, by the time the ferry docked across the bay, and our little troop off loaded, the sun had set, leaving us to navigate a gravel road, in the dark. As children are prone to do, we had left our shoes in the car. My poor mother.

Blue crabs were prolific. My mother’s favorite.

Somehow we made it. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches never tasted so good. Then my mother did something totally amazing, at least to me. She opened a can of grape juice. I’m sure we were all dehydrated but juice was a rare treat in those days. My mother’s job was to save all year and pinch pennies to make our vacation happen. She was the finance person. That night, she doled out grape juice like fine wine.

The memory stays with me to this day.

DOS TORTAS

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Time For An Adventure

30 Mar

With the majority of our outings of late to the doctor, dentist and physical therapist, I needed a bit of adventure. The Free Zone is a 28.5 acre duty-free shopping area between Mexico and our neighbor Belize, about 30 minutes from our door. It is known for cheap clothing, alcohol, perfume and household goods from China, Hong Kong and godknowswhere.

I am not a shopper. My current limited mobility isn’t the only thing that keeps me from walking the streets and perusing the aisles. I did however need a few things that I’ve been unable to find in Bacalar and neighboring Chetumal.

I haven’t been to the Free Zone in years, but the last time I bought a handful of gauzy cotton dresses that are great for tropical weather. They’ve all been worn out of existence and turned into rags. Time for replacements. There is also an international grocery store that carries Indian spices and many uncommon things (uncommon to this part of Mexico). I fulfilled my quest to find miso (Japanese) and black salt (Indian).

Three for $10.

I drove into the Free Zone and immediately found a parking space, which is unheard of. I found my dresses and then used a tuk tuk to get around. It beat me trying to maneuver in unfamiliar territory.

20p or $1.00 minimum

The adventure was complete with lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant and google directions back across the Mexican border. A quick once over by immigration and back on the road to Bacalar and an uneventful ride home.

I’m not sure what I ate, but it took some convincing that I didn’t want meat. The dish was very spicy.

We like uneventful.

DOS DORTAS

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I Give Up

23 Mar

I used to confidently declare in any medical appointment that I am here for a second opinion because MINE is the first! Like many influencers today, I had strong ideas and thought I knew it all. You can imagine that my attitude didn’t go over well.

I frequently refused antibiotics, routine dental X-rays, and assorted tests. Not this week however.

An X-ray machine the size of an old portable radio. Amazing! I used to work in radiology and the portable machines were six feet tall and weighed hundreds of pounds.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, am tired or just don’t care. My hands are in the air. I give up, I surrender, I quit.

I went to the dentist this week to get my teeth cleaned. Pretty routine right? I was told that I had multiple cavities and a molar that might need a root canal or to be extracted! WTF! I sat for an hour and got half the cavities filled. A few days later I saw an endodontist, young enough to be my granddaughter, to discover that I had an infected tooth and indeed needed a root canal, just not the tooth the dentist thought.

Root Canal

I again sat for over an hour with my nose, mouth and chin numb. The tooth that started all this may need to come out eventually but is ok for now. Sigh.

None of this makes any sense to me. I don’t drink soda or eat sweets. I have a fancy electric toothbrush that I use religiously. Is it the water? My soft bones? Hereditary? IDK but I quit.

Truthfully I no longer claim to know anything about anything. Technology is moving so quickly that it’s extremely hard to keep up. And I no longer want to.

DOS TORTAS

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