Tag Archives: retire mexico

SMART or Estupida?

13 Oct

I have always done better with a goal, a BIG goal. At age 40 I got through the coming-out process by discovering triathlons. Bike – Cycle – Run. I completed my first triathlon dead last of all participants. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across the finish line to a cheering crowd and heard my name called to receive an award (I still have it). I had finished third in my age group of three. I had fun and learned a lot, like the need to get all event details instead of assuming the run portion is a 5k (3.2 miles) instead of 5 miles.

Participating in a triathlon fueled my interest in cycling. My 40s were spent on a bicycle, on long rides with Team Roadkill and by myself. My longest event ride was over two days from Houston to Austin in the MS 150. I had fun and learned to really, really pay attention to the weather and not assume a beautiful Texas spring day.

For my 50th birthday I completed my one and only marathon. I joined a training group that met at Runtex in Austin. I logged weekday miles on a treadmill and weekends with the Runtex group that included an experienced leader. I had fun traversing the city on foot and learned not to blindly trust a trainer. Being inexperienced I could have done nothing else and ended up barely finishing the marathon.

And now, retired at age 61, having spent the last year in training for the monumental task of moving to Mexico, I wasn’t exactly looking for a new goal. My body isn’t so keen on running or spending long hours on a bicycle. I love to walk and have dreamed of a trip to Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago. But nothing immediate, that is until this week.

Being a fan of the book, Younger Next Year by Chris Crowley and Harry Lodge, I am aware that as one ages, it is even more important to participate in strenuous physical activity, preferably with a goal in mind. That’s why when I saw the Paddle Marathon Laguna Bacalar, a race the length of Laguna Bacalar scheduled for May 1-3, 2014, my interest was piqued. I’ve already noticed the progress I have made with my kayaking since arriving in Bacalar six weeks ago. I go further every day with less effort. However, the idea of kayaking 46 miles over a two-day period seems daunting, outrageous, even insane. Which is exactly why I want to do it.

I have a sweet little kayak that is sleek and perfect for the race. Before leaving Austin, I invested in a carbon paddle which is lighter than aluminum, having already entertained the thought of a long paddle, perhaps with an overnight stay. Just maybe this half-brained scheme is attainable. At the least, I will have fun and learn stuff. No permanent damage done? Right?

SMART Objectives
S- Specific – Race (and I use that word lightly) the length of Laguna Bacalar
M- Measurable 46 miles over two days
A- Attainable – which remains to be seen
R- Reasonable – it is doable by others, young enough to be my grandchildren
T- Time framed – May 1-3, 2014

There’s plenty of time to train, so if you’re at all interested, please come join me. There will be a kayak film festival and a week of activities surrounding the event. At the very least, you can wave from the shore with your binoculars as I go whizzing by.

Blue Bliss

Blue Bliss

Kayak in Heaven

Paddle Heaven

Thought for the Day

Life Begins

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Meet the Neighbors

6 Oct

From the minute I hit “send” on Sunday my thoughts turn to what to write for the next week. I look for interesting patterns, new items to share, or ah-ha moments. This week is encounters with insect, reptile and bird neighbors. The photos are from the internet, not mine.

Lisa saw a very large snake crossing the driveway where we live. Upon research, we learned that the mangrove snake is one of the largest snakes in the tropics. What Lisa saw was at least 6′ long. They are harmless to humans who leave them alone.

Mangrove Snake

Mangrove Snake

We have a neighbor about twenty miles up the lake who has a young crocodile hanging out near her dock. With the swollen lake, the cocodrillos sometimes move into human habitats. There have been numerous postings to the expat Yahoo Group as to how to relocate the 3′ long youngster. The running request is that it goes FAR from Bacalar.

Young Cocodrillo

Young Cocodrillo

We frequently see snail kites, large black and white hawks that chow down on the juicy snails that abound in Laguna Bacalar. Locals harvest the snails for ceviche, a delicacy for humans and lunch for the hawks.

Snail Kite

Snail Kite

Last night Lisa called me to come quietly and bring the camera. I was not lucky enough to catch a photo of these camera shy moths that have been hanging around. Here is the internet version. They have large “eyes” on their wings to trick predators.

Large Moth

Large Moth

We watch dragon flies flutter in the evening air and geckos, small nocturnal lizards scurry across the ceiling both inside and out. Life in the tropics is certainly a chance to meet many new and interesting neighbors.

Another Amazing Sunrise

Another Amazing Sunrise

Have Faith

Have Faith

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Inicios Nuevos

29 Sep

New beginnings – We marked one month of living in Mexico this week. It still feels like one big vacation. We’re incredibly grateful to have a beautiful home to live in while waiting for our house to sell in Texas and eventually build our home here. Days begin with taking photos of the latest amazing sunrise, yoga, and meditation. Lisa has been working diligently on learning Spanish. She listens to a CD for thirty minutes and has conversations with anyone she comes into contact with. Local folks seemed pleased with her effort and are more than willing to enunciate and use simple language. I am all too familiar with the sensation of one’s head exploding in the effort to learn a second language. It is a necessary part of the process.

We made a new friend, Kathe who lives in Chetumal, about a half hour drive from us. Several years ago, Kathe and her partner traveled from Canada to Panama and back in an RV. She kept a blog which I include here. On her blog she shared a story, “Loose Chickens” by Nancy Vineski. The story was included in Chicken Soup for the RVer’s Soul and made me laugh and think about the choices we have made to live in Bacalar, MX. I include it here. As always, comments and suggestions for future blogs are appreciated. What do you do to rattle your cage? Please share.

Sep 8, 2007
Loose Chickens

By Nancy Vineski

It all started with a few loose chickens. . . .

I was a real estate agent and had gone to check out one of our listed
properties. It was an egg-laying operation, a commercial facility involving
thousands of caged chickens. The warehouse-like building held hundreds and
hundreds of small cages, each containing two hens. The cages were so small
that the chickens were unable to turn around. In front of the chickens, one
conveyor belt brought feed and behind them was another belt that carried
their eggs away. While the plant manager was briefing us, I noticed a dozen
loose chickens and an employee following them and scattering grain.

“Do you need help catching them?” I asked.

“I’m not trying to catch these birds” he replied. “Oh no, we let these
wander around. If the caged ones can’t see a few chickens living a free
life, they’ll lose hope and stop laying their eggs. Without these loose
chickens, the rest will just give up and die.”

Instantly, it struck me how similar our lifestyle was to these caged birds.
How many of us live our lives in cages, looking out and seeing others having
the adventures, living their dreams, being free? I realized that there are
two kinds of chickens: those who live in cages and those who roam freely. I
wanted to be one of those loose chickens!

Within a couple of months, we wangled a year’s unpaid leave of absence from
my husband Tom’s university employers, closed my small business, found
someone to house sit our home, took $10000 out of our retirement savings,
bought an old VW camper-van and set off to explore Mexico and Central
America.

That year stretched into two and we decided not to return to our old jobs.

It’s been nine years now of full-time RVing full-time, exploring full-time
living. The house-sitter became a tenant who became the guy who bought our
house. The camper-van turned into a twenty-five-foot trailer, which turned
into a thirty-seven-foot motor home. And a few years ago our son Bill also
became a full-time RVer – a family of loose chickens roaming free.

Reprinted by permission of Nancy Vineski (c) 2000 from Chicken Soup for the
Traveler’s Soul by Jack Canfield Mark Victor Hansen and Steve Zikman.

Peace

Peaceful Beginning to the Day on Lake Bacalar

Some Days Just Amaze

Some Days Just Amaze

With a Good Book

With a Good Book

Loose Chickens

Loose Chickens

The Think You Think You Cannot Do

The Thing You Think You Cannot Do

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Rainy Season – Lessons in Going With the Flow

22 Sep

Having recently moved to the tropics of Southern Mexico from the desert-like climate of Central Texas, we initially loved the sweet little afternoon rain showers. But then the rain didn’t stop. For close to three weeks it rained, rained and rained some more. A tropical depression invaded the Yucatan in more ways than one. Hurricane Manuel pummeled Mexico from the Pacific and Ingrid from the Gulf. In Acapulco forty-thousand tourists were evacuated and mud slides swallowed a whole community. In Bacalar, the worst we had was mold, mosquitoes, a leaky roof and a few docks under water. It seems like all I had to do was think about my kayak to hear thunder. It’s creepy.

Many of the expats are on their summer jaunt to the US. The Tortas were spending way too much time on Facebook in this beautiful, strange land, so Thursday we decided to brave the elements and travel 2.5 hours to Tulum to visit our Austin friends Karen and Skip. It was a change of scenery and an excuse to ride in air conditioning. Living in the wilds of Tulum has its own challenges. Keeping the jungle from swallowing your house is a full-time job. We did head out to see if the beach had been washed away in the recent flooding, only to be blessed with a beautiful sunshiney walk. Nine months ago during our initial visit to Skip and Karen’s, we were exploring the possibility of making the move to Mexico. They took us to the same beautiful beach as a talisman for all the hard work ahead. Never could we have believed that in nine months our life would be completely different and we’d be living in Bacalar.

When rain flows, it can take everything in its path for a ride, even the Tortas. The opportunities to “let go” abound. We are continually letting go of an old way of life, as well as the expectations for this new one, and we are ever grateful for the occasional sunshine.

Finally the Sun!

Tulum Beach Nine Months Later

Tulum Beach Nine Months Later

Moon on Bacalar

Thought For the Day

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Can We Go Home Now?

8 Sep

Can we go home now? TRANSLATION – I need something familiar because I’m feeling insane.

Whether we move across town, across the country or across the globe, I think it’s common to want, at some point to click your ruby slippers and wish for “home”. It is definitely an adjustment to change home, job and language in the course of one week. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore. The truth is, Bacalar is our home and there’s no going back, nor do we want to. We just want the floor to quit shifting.

Lisa and I have both had boo-hooing meltdowns with unexplainable feelings which come out as, what the hell have we done? I don’t think I can do this, and I wanna go home! The good thing is that we don’t have them at the same time.

On Friday, our friends Karen and Skip came through Bacalar. They’d been in Austin and were on their way home to Tulum, two hours north of us. They have watched us go from cautious inquiry to “ta-da!” They have been where we are and offered sage advice, “get out some of your things that provide familiarity.”

There is so much about being here that is absolutely wonderful and we are very grateful. We have been provided transitional digs that are beautiful, comfortable, accommodating and free. I walk down twenty steps and glide my kayak into the most beautiful water on the planet, whenever the mood strikes me. I sit on the balcony early in the morning, drink Lisa-made coffee, watch beautiful noisy birds that I’ve yet to identify and observe the rising sun change the colors on the lake by the minute. The feelings of insanity will strike again no doubt. I ride the waves kicked up by a tropical shower as well as the swirl of emotions triggered by a life of the new and yet to become familiar.

This week it’s off to immigration. Yahoo! Do we apply as a married couple or individuals? Decisions, decisions. Stay tuned as the Tortas continue the adventure. As always, comments are appreciated.

DOS TORTAS

Our bedroom in Pehaltun, Bacalar, MX

Our bedroom in Pehaltun, Bacalar, MX

Where to put stuff?

Where to put stuff?

Live the Life of Your Dreams

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Down to Our Skivvies

28 Jul

I have been down to my skivvies two other times in order to seek adventure. Yes, I was a baby Torta long before I knew it. Once I moved halfway across the country and another, halfway around the world. In 1974, I arrived in Austin via Southwest Airlines. They had just celebrated their third year in business. The plane left Love Field in Dallas, propellers spinning with a little curtain between the pilots and the rest of us. I carried two suitcases to start my life as a University of Texas student. Three months prior, I had been in school in Central Mexico and was bemoaning the fact that I had to return to NJ. One of my teachers said, I know just the place for you. The University of Texas at Austin. Me – “ok” and that was that. Long before the days of Google, I knew nothing about my chosen destination. A friend back home flashed this weird hand configuration when I told them my plans and exclaimed, hook ’em horns. Me – “ok”.

On the plane, I quizzed my seat mates as to how far it was to the University from the airport. They gave me a look and a ride to the housing office and bid me good luck. I had almost no money and no idea where I was going to sleep. Ah, those were the days. The sweet woman in the housing office found me a couch in a University co-op. I was a couch surfer before the term was coined. Half of the residents came in at 3am and the other half got up at 5am, but the price was right.

August will be 39 years since that adventurous arrival. The time has been peppered with a two-year stint in Japan and vacations to Belize, Mexico, Thailand, Greece and Turkey. Pulling up roots and moving on is long overdue. The closets are empty as is the attic. My final day at work is Wednesday. In another week we should have a departure date.

SW Airlines Ad 1974 SW Airlines Entices
Hookem Hookem

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Image

Goes to Mexico

21 Jul

All along as we prepared for our life changing move to Mexico, we’ve been dividing possessions into what goes to Mexico and what doesn’t. Books, winter clothing, furniture, photos, children’s report cards, yarn, yarn and more yarn, gone to Craig’s List, Goodwill, Half Price Books, shipped to adult children and sold at garage sales. At the same time, we’ve been wrapping, boxing, labeling, weighing and giving value to the rest of our possessions. Labels must be in English and Spanish and added to a spreadsheet for review by imigre as we cross the border.

So what ARE we taking? yarn (of course) camping equipment, tools, exercise equipment and CDs, casual clothing (I’m going to burn all my work clothes LOL) some furniture, rugs, quilts, art, kitchenware, Lisa’s new TV and my new sewing machine, two kayaks, water skis and assorted prized possessions. All must fit in our 6×10 cargo trailer and in the back of our truck and weigh less than 7K pounds. Once we are all locked and loaded we will take off for our 28 hour drive to San Antonio, Laredo, Monterrey, Puebla, Villahermosa and Bacalar. Photos will be taken and experiences blogged. At this time we have no estimated date of departure. It will be soon, VERY soon. Stay tuned and as always, comments are appreciated.

Packing containers

Packing containers

Goes to Mexico

Goes to Mexico

Cargo Trailer

Cargo Trailer

Route to Bacalar – http://goo.gl/maps/13Xoq

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Life is Better When You Play

7 Jul

My youngest son Dylan hated to have his diapers changed when he was little. Before I could fasten them at his hip he would flip over and crawl away from me at the speed of light on chubby little hands and knees. I would grab his ankle in a power struggle that he would loose and we both would hate. One day, I spontaneously grabbed a paper bag mask that my older son had made at school and popped it on my head. My baby lay mesmerized by the eye holes and jagged teeth, while I quickly fastened his diaper. Voila, struggle averted.

Dylan also would talk to puppets. Putting a sock puppet on my hand, I would stand behind the door with arm extended and he would carry on a conversation with my talking hand. Puppet – “Mom just doesn’t understand, right?” Dylan – “Yeah!” in a teary little voice he poured out his heart. We worked out many problems talking to the hand.

But the biggest problem was getting Dylan and his brother out of the community pool on those hot Texas afternoons. They loved to swim and treated each day as if it were their last opportunity ever and held on to the moment for dear life. In an effort to avoid the usual anger, threatening, and arm-tugging style of parenting that I resorted to in those days, I asked them if they wanted to play a game. Little eyes looked up at me with interest. I told them that I was a mama lion and they were my babies and there were hunters that we needed to avoid to get home safely. I took off on the adventure to find them running to keep up. We traversed the neighborhood from bush to stick tree, to the corner of a neighbor’s house, crouched low and whispering…shhh we must be quiet so the hunters don’t see us. We arrived home to snacks in a happy mood and my children didn’t seem to know or care that I’d pulled a fast one. I was the one who learned something important. Life is always more fun when we play.

Yesterday was a day packed with activity. We got up early, cleaned, ran errands, grocery shopped, and showed the house twice to perspective buyers. At seven o’clock, we finally sat to an anticipated quiet evening. Within minutes our friends called to remind us of a dinner invitation that we had completely forgotten. We were thirty minutes late! Oh, well, off we went again, laughing at our oversight. We had a wonderful dinner and appreciated our friends who worked hard to connect with us before we are “outta here”. The day ended with many items checked off our to-do list and a lovely dinner with friends. We played, laughed and avoided the hunters. Mission accomplished.

Dylan still loves the pool.

Dylan still loves the pool.

Dylan and his son Hunter.

Dylan and his son Hunter.

My Son and his family

Our Son and his family

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If Men Wore Skirts

9 Jun

Can you imagine going to work, or to the grocery store or church and seeing men wearing skirts? Now imagine how our world would have to change for skirt-wearing men to be the norm. There would be gender equality and a balance of power? Pink and blue beanies would not be the uniform at birth? A lot would have to change in our country to see men comfortable enough to wear skirts.

The change going on in OUR lives isn’t quite as dramatic, but sometimes it feels like it is. We are letting go of all things familiar, jobs, family, neighbors, friends, a home of almost 18 years in a city where I’ve lived since I was 22 years old. I am getting rid of the old, the borrowed and the blue. And I wonder why I feel tense. One week I blog about being fearless and the next, about being stressed out. Arghhhhhhhh.

Because I am committed to honesty I tell you that this is NOT easy. Even though we both want it, have planned it, are excited about the move and the life that we are going to, my body somehow resists. I have been to the doctor who told me that my heart and BP are fine. I meditate, exercise, eat well and get enough sleep. Am I scared? I can’t imagine of what. We have no deadlines really. Things will work out fine however they do. “This too shall pass” is my mantra. I also tell myself that feeling this pressure in my chest is NOT a character flaw. I cannot control the anxiety I feel as much as I want to argue with my body that, “this doesn’t make sense!!” It is what it is and sharing my experience with you helps relieve the pressure. I don’t KNOW it all and I don’t want to appear as if I’ve got it all figured out, because I DON’T. There is a message here that I want to be open to. Perhaps if I do more listening than talking I will hear what it is. This last thought only came to me as I wrote it now. So I get to be fearless in listening to my body. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Enjoying a Sunny Lake Bacalar Day

Enjoying a Sunny Lake Bacalar Day

My Daughter's Wedding 5/13

My Daughter’s Wedding 5/13

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Living Fearlessly

26 May

If you want to be an honorary Torta, I suggest looking at your response to fear. Miedo is a funny thing. Our parents used it to control us when we were pequeños. It kept us from crossing a busy street or talking to a stranger when we were six years old. But for many people, long after our parents’ voices are gone, fear rules our lives. When I tell people that we are moving to Mexico, the inevitable first pregunta es, “aren’t you afraid?”. I find it difficult not to say something snarky about the fear of movie theaters in Colorado or shopping malls in Arizona.

Am I ever afraid? Of course, but it’s what I strive to DO in the face of uncertainty that allows me to move forward. First, I’ve made a choice NOT to be afraid, about anything. On Friday I rode my scooter to work not realizing we were supposed to get a storm that dumped two inches of rain on Austin streets. When I checked radar saying that it wasn’t a brief shower, I got off work early to beat the Friday afternoon, holiday traffic. I took my time riding home in a monsoon-like downpour. Las calles were flooding and I felt myself getting tense. But when I became aware of my body’s response, I took some breaths, relaxed my shoulders and said, “no fear, you’ll be fine”. Surprisingly I let go and enjoyed la lluvia bonita while choosing less traveled streets and arriving home safely.

Not being afraid is about confronting the lies I tell myself in my head. “You’re going to die.” Is it true? Yes, but not today if I can help it. I make different choices, take calculated risks, relax, have fun, and learn lessons.

When exploring moving to Mexico, I researched the risk of violence and found that Mexico is actually a very safe country. While the drug violence makes the news, it exists primarily in the border area and rarely involves gringos. Mexico is a large country, three times the size of Texas. It has a very diverse environment, big cities, mountains, high desert, and tropical jungles. There is a rich history of ancient civilizations and invasions from Spain, France, and the US. Today it has a public transportation infrastructure that allows easy access to all corners and travelers from Canada, Europe, Russia etc. flock to the beaches, pyramids, museums, mercados and night life.

My grip on Austin is lessening, yet I haven’t quite grabbed on to Mexico. I am somewhere in that middle place of uncertainty, not here and not yet there.

Sometimes taking flight takes letting go.
Letting go takes faith.
Faith takes letting go.
It all requires wings.
And so it goes. Patti Digh “Life Is A Verb”

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” – Lao-tsu

Laguna Bacalar

Enjoying a perfect day on Lake Bacalar.

Sun Setting

Sunset

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