My lovely niece is visiting from Austin, Texas. Amidst the ungodly heat, rolling blackouts and flickering electricity we have done our best to not be cranky.
However you measure it. It’s toasty!
There’s no better way to cool off in Bacalar than to get out on the Laguna.
Blake and Aunt Alex
Thanks to our friend Steve with his sweet ride we pulled together a motley crew of friends to enjoy a day of cold drinks and wind in our hair.
Lisa and her mom.Arco the swimming dog loves the boat.Nothing better than staying cool with friends.
Wishing everyone a happy Mother’s Day no matter however and wherever you celebrate. It’s good to be grateful for something every day.
We had our bags pilfered on the bus ride home from our recent vacation. The loss included my Texas driver’s license. It can’t be replaced until I return to the US, thus the need for a Mexican license.
It took me three trips to the Office of Transportation in downtown Bacalar. The first time I was informed that May first was a holiday and I needed to come back on Thursday. I got the list of documents that I needed. One was certification of my health, obtained from a ten minute visit to a local clinic and costing $4.00.
I gathered up the required copies and returned on Thursday. Oops testing starts at ten. After a coffee to take up some time, I returned for a third time to find a full house. The testing space was small and bursting with men all getting a driver’s license for the first time, mostly to drive a motorcycle, and me.
A friend had told me that the process was quite easy and the questions were bordering on the ridiculous. But when the woman handed me three pages in Spanish I became nervous.
As I read through the questions, breathe relax, I trusted my skill, finished fairly quickly and looked up. It was then that I realized that I probably read more Spanish than anyone else in the room. There is not a high literacy rate in Bacalar. No problemo, everyone was relaxed with heads together helping each other! I almost laughed out loud. One young man sitting across from me looking very nervous leaned forward to ask me the answer to the question, “who has the right of way, the driver or the pedestrian?” He had the correct answer. I told him that I had put the same answer. Mind you I was the only woman and a white haired foreigner to boot. He must have been desperate.
When I handed in the test, the clerk scanned the pages quickly then rolled her eyes. I didn’t know the color of various street signs so I just guessed. Oops. To my surprise, she pulled out a bottle of white-out and proceeded to CORRECT MY MISTAKES! Her comment to the other clerk, “She’s a foreigner.”
It’s official.
I am now the proud owner of a shiny new driver’s license and another story to tell that tickles me about living in Mexico.
I took my journal to Europe but didn’t have much time for sketching.
Press on picture.
Here are drawings from our travels and from our couch.
Sitting in the train station waiting to leave for Paris.Neuschwanstein Castle Bavaria
I also like to draw sitting on the couch in the evening watching TV.
Faces are some of my favorite things to play with.
I’m using mostly permanent and water color pens. I’ve liked to doodle since childhood. I find it relaxing and creative. I have numerous books of my drawings. it’s fun to see my life journey in art. Enjoy.
Returning from vacation requires hustling just to be in place, at least the place you were supposed to be in if you hadn’t left. This week was filled with getting the cars serviced, refilling the larder and chasing a yellow DHL shipping envelope all over Mexico.
We had submitted my MILs passport for renewal via DHL before taking off in February for the US and later Europe. The US Consulate in Guadalajara had already returned it once due to the wrong sized photos. But pictures were retaken and the passport and application were quickly off again. Fingers crossed.
Hung up in Cancún.
When we returned home and looked to see why the passport hadn’t arrived, we found it was hung up in Cancun, four hours away? Solving the mystery was time consuming, a long and winding story requiring numerous phone calls, a trip to DHL (45 minutes away) and promises of a speedy delivery. There was also much waiting on hold and standing in line.
My photogenic MIL
When the promised arrival time came and went, we returned to the trusty web tracking site to find the package was marked DELIVERED. Another phone call discovered that the envelope had been left at the hotel across the street! Now addresses in Mexico are long and complicated, especially when you live in the jungle. DHL had been given very specific directions which they chose to ignore. They’d already delivered the package once using the exact same address!!!
As I sit on the Eurostar train between London and Amsterdam I contemplate this astounding trip so far. It’s been almost 15 years since Lisa and my last overseas adventure. A lot has changed. I am 72, she is 60. After Lisa’s multiple back surgeries, neither one of us can walk for hours nor stand gazing at antiquities. We return to the hotel in the late afternoon and collapse for the evening.
Stock image.
When I was pick pocketed in Athens in 2005 and had my passport stolen, we got to experience the darker and inconvenient side of travel. Any trip might include loss, loss of cell phone, hat, or scarf. I once left expensive headphones on the plane home to Mexico.
Amsterdam Canals
In an attempt at prevention I try to turn around from any stop and make sure nothing is left behind. To prevent pick pocketing, I carry a shoulder bag designed for travel with zippered pockets to protect phone, money and identification. And still it happened.
I lost my credit card.
In London everything is paid by tapping your bank card on a terminal. Some restaurants don’t accept cash at all. In order to hop the underground (subway) I had placed my card in a side pocket with my phone. Apparently I pulled out my phone and dropped the card. After searching everywhere I contacted my US bank.
Saturday Market
Fortunately we have other plastic but it could be so easy to get stranded with no money. The worst part was the sleepless night and self flagellation.
Thank God I’m over it. There’s nothing more I can do until I return home.
Dutch apple pie.
The trip continues and we’re having a great time. Weather has been unprecedented with sunshine in both London and Amsterdam. Crowds are small compared to high season. For an unscripted holiday, we’re doing very well.
We have some lovely large trees in front of our house where it snuggles in at the edge of the laguna. Walking on our dock, under them is a religious experience. However our cathedral needs to be canopied. There are many dead and twisting branches that need trimming and shaping to give the trees lift. Imagine my delight at finding a professional arborist in Bacalar!
I met with Ramon towards the end of the week. We gazed upward, pointed and made plans for him and his crew to work on Sunday. They would trim and shape, but here’s the kicker, we had to do the cleanup. No problemo. I was willing to lug branches up our hill. Ha!
Then Lisa reminded me that Sunday was my birthday. I had completely forgotten. Completely!
My dear friend Juan surprised me with this lovely cake Friday evening at our expat meet-up.My best friend from Austin’s child and partner. Rose, Dio, Lisa, me.
We’ve had guests for the week and been quite busy showing them about; birding, snorkeling, pyramids, art class, eating and shopping have kept us busy. In that light I guess it could be easy to forget.
Having moved to Mexico in 2013, there were so many things that we didn’t consider. An important event that never crossed our minds was the Super Bowl. Of course we’d be able to watch the Super Bowl! Well, technology hasn’t always been our friend living out of the country. Or perhaps our cultural bias is showing. It’s a bit like the World Cup. No one watches the WC in the US. For many people not being able to watch the Super Bowl is no big deal, but not to us, at least it wasn’t in 2013. Living in Austin, Texas, Lisa was a huge football fan. Every Sunday she turned on the game, stretched out on the couch and slept through most of it. Her team? the Dallas Cowboys of course. (Dallas hasn’t played in the SB since 1996).
In Mexico, without satellite, it is nearly impossible to get American football’s biggest over the top magic show on your TV. We have tried going out to local bars but the game volume can make your ears bleed, the commentary is in Spanish and everyone is sloppy drunk. Not our favorite environment.
Mexicans love American football.
This past weekend we invited some new friends over for our version of a Super Bowl party and made another attempt to get the game from the comfort of our living room. We made Texas chili and started over an hour early to tune in. Between two couples, we had access to three different streaming services and a VPN. A VPN encrypts your internet traffic and hides your physical location. Why the NFL doesn’t want people to be able to watch the game from overseas is beyond me, especially if they’re willing to pay!
Our new friends who are building a home in Bacalar.
NOTHING WORKED! With fiddling and rebooting every ten minutes, we got a grainy view of the field and game play leading up to the halftime show. Then the whole thing failed. Our guests had long since left. We went to bed.
Truthfully our poor reception could have been caused by inadequate capacity for all of Bacalar. New internet towers have been going up everywhere but the increase in tourists and the fact that it’s Super Bowl Sunday might have put the system over the top.
This week was also my mother-in-laws 80th birthday.
We woke the next day to discover the Chiefs had won. That’s why the Superbowl is like life. You just never know the outcome. There are so many contributing factors, injuries, who Taylor Swift is rooting for, and social sentiment. Sometimes the game may go into overtime but when the clock runs out, you’re toast. These days our clock is ticking along a bit louder. But never fear, we’re in it until the final whistle blows.
We’ve had a rough month. First my mother-in-law fell and dislocated her wrist, then Lisa and I got Covid and last week my dear niece died after battling brain cancer.
Blooming
I’m mostly recovered from Covid but still experiencing body aches. I’ve been working in the yard and exercising a bit. Getting outside is good for the soul.
We all have ways to cope. One of mine is making art. I’m loving these mandalas.
We are heading to the U.S. for my niece’s memorial the end of the month. There are lots of loose ends to tie up before we travel, warm clothes not withstanding. I’m not sure why we’ve been heading north in cold weather. These tropical girls do not adjust easily.
We got a message this week that knew was coming, just not when. My niece died after a long battle with brain cancer. We were making plans to go see her when we got the message from my brother, “she’s gone”. She had contracted Covid but seemed better. Then when no one was looking she slipped away quietly. She was 46.
2016 There are no words.
I remember when she was born. My brother and sister-in- law had a son. I had a daughter and then they had Raegan. All three cousins were less than a year apart, each from the next. Raegan Mercedes was such a cool name.
1977 the day before Raegan was born. Her very pregnant mom on the left, assorted brothers, and my mother in the center. I am on the right. We were all so young.
To say she was smart was an understatement. A Doctorate in Human Factors Psychology.
Raegan had worked on systems to effectively integrate technology for the US military. She was our whiz kid and fascinating to talk to. Even as her vision deteriorated from the pressure of the tumor, she worked with the local county agency to give feedback on how to help people with visual disabilities navigate their transportation system. Our hearts break with the loss of her.
The last time Lisa and I got to hang out with Raegan was Thanksgiving 2022. We were in Florida with my brother, her dad and other family members. One afternoon we walked the few blocks to the highway where there was a large sex store.
Sadly they closed the end of 2023.
Only Raegan with her lesbian aunts would walk the store aisles laughing uncontrollably at enormous wobbly dildos, penis lollipops, edible underwear and a huge variety of vibrators. I smile at the memory (not of the dildos).
Animals helped her so much.
There is so much more I could say, but it all makes me sad. Hug each other, be kind to strangers, take care of yourself, laugh and hug puppies. Especially puppies, and goats, and pigs, for Raegan.
Silly me, I thought I had some magical powers and when Covid was floating around for the last four years, somehow it would go around me! But fate caught up with me this week and I’m down for the count.
I remember the first time I heard the C word. I was in Oaxaca painting with a group of women. It was February 2020 and I was feeling a bit under the weather after a month of traveling. While talking on the phone to my daughter in California, she asked if I was sure I didn’t have Covid? Mmmm. What’s that? I clearly was out of touch.
My artwork from 2020. Guadalupe, Frida, Catrina
Lisa knew this week before I did that I was positive, having dealt with her own and her mom’s multiple infections. I woke her up two nights in a row with a raging headache and body aches. Something I’ve never done in thirty years. She’s a saint and knew just what to do.
We dug out our one and only remaining home test (expired) and sure enough double lines = positive. I’ve been terrified of getting Covid, because of “coexisting conditions”. I have asthma.
So far so good, except Lisa is also infected. This is new territory for me. The body aches are the weirdest. I feel like I’ve been doing pushups. Following the new Center For Disease Control Guidelines, we’re isolating appropriately. Fingers crossed Covid releases me from its grip soon. For now, rest and y’all be careful out there.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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