FEAR OF FALLING

I knew there would be problems when I decided to live in a third world country. There were lots of fears and questions.  How would I manage on a day to day basis, not knowing the language?  How would I adjust to the food and the culture?  How would I manage my finances with no mail?  Would I be able to meet and make new friends?  How would I handle my medical needs?

After living here for just a few days, I realized what my greatest fear was.   It was not a fear of being blown away by a drug lord (I don't deal in drugs).  It was not a fear of being kidnapped (no one would pay more than $100.00 to get my out of "hock").  I wasn't even afraid of eating food from tacos stands.  My greatest fear was falling.  A broken hip would be disaster for me.

All the side walks have surprise levels of concrete.  There are cables bracing telephone poles that are bolted to hooks in the middle of the sidewalks.  Some sidewalks suddenly end in a drop of a foot or more.  I have never seen so many people on crutches or canes as I have here (of course the population is pretty old).  The cobble stone streets are difficult even with out pot holes.

Last week I went to Apache's (one of my favorite bars) and had two margaritas from Endra.  I knew if she made them, they would have very little alcohol in them (Andreas' margaritas are lethal).  Next to the bar is a cafe that had painted the side walk.  This makes it very slippery even when dry.  They had just mopped it and sure enough I fell.  As I went down, I instinctively put out my hand to break the fall.  All my weight landed on my wrist and left side.  Several people rushed up to help, but I limped off.  I was sure my ego was more bruised than I was.

The following morning I awoke with a sprained ankle and wrist, a badly bruised hip and ached all over.  I went to my masseur (who is also a licensed chiropractor in the US).  I guess I felt a little better but my back still hurt. The following day, I awoke feeling better and it was Christmas Eve.  I decided to take a walk down the Malecon at sunset to see if I could get some good photos.  To my surprise there was very little going on (most Mexican families celebrate at home on Christmas Eve) and the sunset was not much.  Many of the establishments that I knew were closed, so I headed back.  Since I had not found a bar open that I liked, I was headed for Frida's.  In front of the Plaza Cardenas the side walk slightly slopes down.  Suddenly I lost my balance and could not regain it.  I managed to stagger for a few feet then saw the concrete sidewalk coming up.  For an unexplained reason, I did not try to protect my head with my hands and I went down hard on my head (maybe I thought of my already sprained wrist).  Many of you must think by now, that I am some hopeless old falling down drunk.  You would not be entirely wrong, except this time it was 7:00 at night and I had not had a single drop of alcohol.

Again several people appeared to help me up.  I knew I had hit my head, but thought that if I just sat down and rested for a while I would be fine.  Then a vendor ran up with a bag of ice for my head.  As soon as I put the bag to my head, I knew I was in trouble.  Not only was it very painful, but I could feel a bump the size of a small egg.  I decided to take the offer of two strangers to help me to a hospital.  I was still confused and directed them down the wrong street, but finally found the hospital.  They left and I called my friend.  He came immediately.

The nurses spoke no English at all, but a very nice doctor appeared who did.  The hospitals by the way, are very nice here.  You would not know one from any in the United States.  After taking my blood pressure (110 over 190), he gave me something to put under my tongue (it tasted awful).  My friend looked horrified and I told him that I had not seen myself yet.  He told me it was best I did not, but he did take a picture.  They wrapped my head in a large ace bandage and after my blood pressure was down to 90 over 140, they let me go.  Richard called a cab and took me home.  He had people waiting for him at a restaurant so he left.

After a few glasses of wine and a sleeping pill I went to bed and slept for 10 hours or more.  I am very surprised and amazed, that I am not that sore.  I removed the ace bandage and got a look at what I had done to my head. I decided to put it back on.  I will buy one of those trendy head bands the "jocks' wear when I go out again.  I have now lived here for over one year and the only times I have fallen happened within one week.  Let's hope 2012 is a better safer year for all of us.  Don't expect Christmas card or letters from me, but I do wish you all "Happy Holidays"

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THE COCKTAIL PARTY

Granted, it had been years since I entertained, but I used to be pretty good at it (in fact some of my Laguna Parties were nearly legendary).  I had never entertained in Mexico, but how hard could it be to have a few friends over for cocktails??

Well first of all shopping is an experience in Mexico.  You have to go from shop to shop to shop to find what you want, and sometimes you don't.  It seems that vermouth is just not available here.  What was I to do about my martini swilling friends?  The stores have red, but no white vermouth.  I finally broke down and told them that either they bring a specimen bottle of vermouth, or there wouldn't be any.  They told me that they brought theirs down from Canada, but that straight vodka would be just fine.  Of course it has to be shaken with ice (never stirred) and my silver cocktail shaker is somewhere in storage.  I finally managed to borrow one from my favorite bar.

I had to stock up on all sorts of booze, not being sure what anyone drank.  As it turned out, no one had any gin or rum, but we went through three bottles of tequila and two of vodka (mind you it was a small party of about 20 people).  We also ran completely out of the mixing stuff for Margaritas.   Then came hors d'oeuvres.  I bought several cheeses, nuts and made some ham rolls, and a couple of dips.  My friend made his fabulous guacamole.  Then I went to Los Mercados (where the 'white folk' shop) to buy some hot hors d'oeuvres.  All together there was lots of food and between the booze and food must have spent my months allowance.

 Rule No. 1 for a good cocktail party is to have more guests than chairs.  That way people mingle and talk to everyone and the party is more lively (otherwise they all sit in packs and only talk to each other).  Would you believe I have 16 chairs and four ottomans in this little apartment.  I placed all the dinning chairs against the wall, but that did not keep people from pulling them out and sitting on them.  Next time I will hide all six chairs in the laundry room.  Now granted some people (especially the friends my age) have to sit.  But I find they are usually interesting people and people will gravitate around them.  It started slowly (no one in Mexico arrives on time) and 10 or 12 people did not show up at all.  No one calls or gives excuses here, they are just no shows and may not even mention it again.  Mexican culture is different.

Everyone wanted to be on the patio where I had four equipauli chairs around a table.  I put no food out there at all, for I knew people would sit there all night and not move.  Finally two more chairs were added to the already crowded patio.  My two most entertaining guest whom I  counted on to be the life of the party sat together on the sofa.  I finally managed to get them up and moving about, but they too wound up on the patio.  Meanwhile I had eight platters of food sitting uneaten.  I gave up and carried some to the patio.

I had hired my favorite bar tender who did a wonderful job of keeping everyone happy and their glasses full.  I like to be free to make sure I greet each guest upon arrival and get them with someone they are comfortable with.  I also make sure to say a special "thank you, and good night" at the door when they leave ( one did escape, totally unnoticed by me).   The booze was flowing and everyone seemed to be having a good time in spite of the fact that I kept trying to get people up and moving around,  The "white folks" all left at a reasonable hour, but the Mexican contingent stayed on (taking over all the patio chairs) and started doing shots of tequila.  I only had two real shot glasses so they were drinking the shots out of water glasses (hence the three bottles of tequila).  One of my Mexican guests had brought a good bottle of tequila, so I did not mind the booze consumption, but my midnight I was fading fast.  I finally asked my friend to suggest a cab (there is also a cab stand across the street, one more thing I did not pay attention to when I rented the place).  Everyone said they had a wonderful time.

I awoke late and very tired, but determined to clean the place up.  NO WATER!!  I could not wash dishes, or do the floor (let alone take a shower).  It was off for two and a half days.  The owner apparently will not give the management company money to pay for anything.  Marcello the maintenance man or "super" said that she will not even buy him the proper tools to fix things in the building.  He borrows mine when ever he can.  My Realtor said, "there was nothing more they could do".  Well I fired off a fiery letter stating that they had better figure out what else they can do since they rented three more apartments after I told them of all the problems.  I did get the emails of the other tenants and sent them all a letter.  I started it with "Welcome To Our Little House of Horrors)  I then got them all together to go "en mass" to the management office and tell them that no more rent will be paid until all our grievances are met.  By noon the water was running again.  We will probably never find out the real problem.

You can probably think of some problems with having no water.  Luckily I have bottles of hand sanitizer, but it takes a half a large bottle of drinking water for one flushing of the toilet.  Three days later, I still had dirty dishes and glasses in the sink from the party.  The floor was a mess (it usually is in Mexico) but at least I now have water.  Of course it is brown when it first starts flowing.  I almost did not want to use it to mop the floors.  Eventually it clears up (you don't want to think about what might be still floating in it).  Yes, there are problems with living in a third world country, but please do not think that my problems are typical of all rental situations.  I just picked a "lulu" of a building.  But, I am here and making the most of it and do like the way the apartment looks. I finally gave up and bought my own TV, eventually I will buy a microwave.  I don't think I will ever get anything out of the management company, but all I really want is a new contract with a new starting date.   I am sure we both hope that I don't have to write another posting on this apartment.

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HOME AT LAST!

Someone once said, "There is no place like home", (it may have been Dorothy).  Truly, there is nothing better than being in your own home (especially after 6 weeks of living somewhere else).  For all the problems (and there have been a lot) I really do love living in Mexico and I am very happy to be home again.  But it was not easy.  When I relate the latest in the latest saga of my new apartment, you will find it hard to believe.  People who have lived in Mexico for decades cannot believe what all I have been through, but it is all (sadly) true.

When I left six weeks ago, I really expected to return to a fully furnished and air conditioned apartment.  My friends had been checking on the progress and did not give me many encouraging words.  It was always tomorrow (manana) but it never happened.   My first thought was to walk into the manager's office on Monday morning and tear the place apart, but a friend prevailed upon to try to be nice.  I went in and simply asked, "Why?"  No real answer has ever been given,  just "sorrys" and promises that it will all be taken care of tomorrow.  It never was.  If it had not been for the kindness of my friend I would have been living in a hotel.  I reminded her of that, and the fact that I had paid four months of rent and the place was still unlivable.  She insisted that it was just a "delivery problem" (for three months??)

Suddenly my Realtor reappeared.  He has now rented four of the units in the building (I was just the first unlucky sole to attempt to move in).  His client was arriving at 5:00 that evening and the apartment was not ready (What a surprise!!).  I had been telling him that for months.  His wife (an American) then got involved and contacted the head of the management company running the building.  Eventually a lawyer was contacted and they spoke to the owner.  The appliances that I had been expected for months were then purchased locally at Walmart (no less) and delivered the following day (well sort of).  Because of the buses in front of the building, the delivery man refused to carry them to the building (no one ever uses a dolly here).  After about 15 minutes of an argument I witnessed, he dropped them on the street!

Thanks to my new friend Jose (who moved my plants) they managed to get them to my apartment and the new guy's place.  However nothing was connected.  I realized that there was no gas line or vent duct for the dryer included, so I ran off to the hardware store to buy them myself.  When I returned, there was no one here.  Everyone had gone home.  The next day everything was connected so I move in.  Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that they finally got the air conditioner working, and the rest of the furniture was also delivered earlier that week.  It is hideous Mexican modern made of paste board painted black.  The bed was a little more than a foot off the floor (I think someone forgot the feet), but the nightstands are also only one foot tall.  The washer dryer are great, but the refrigerator is Lilliputian.  The freezer is below eye level and it is on top.  The TV and microwave are coming on a later truck.  I hope not the one from Guadalajara that has been "delayed" for three months.  No real explanation of why the "delayed delivery" has ever been given.

Once in the apartment a new problem developed.  I came home from the beach one day and noticed a slick streak on the floor.  It was tiny beads of water.  If not mopped up the beads of water become puddles.  Originally the streak started at the hall closet door, made a 90 degree angle into the living room and then another 90 degree angle under my desk.  Every time I mop it up, it will reappear.  At first I thought it must be my hot water pipes in the cement floor and reacts to the cold tile.  But the streaks continue to grow and now go under the dinning table and in front of the sofa.  There are no wet steaks anywhere near the kitchen or laundry room.  I think the  place is haunted.  By accident I discovered that if I leave the fan on high, it dries up, so it is definitely some sort of moisture problem (probably never to be solved).

My drapery lady is another sad story.  I paid her in advance two month ago for labor, materials and installation.  It was supposed to be done before I moved in (it was not).  When I got back I found her phone no longer working.  I called the shade man that recommended her and he said that she lost her phone and had a new number and that she told him everything was done.  I called her and I think a week or so later she arrived with the drapes and valance.  Every day she said it would be tomorrow (manana again).  The valance was a meter too short (not inches but a yard) and the drapes were four inches too long so they drug on the floor.  She took them back and I think it took another week to deliver the drapes.  They are unlined (she saw my old lined drapes) and the hem is off from side to side by about three inches.  I told her I did not care, but put them up and bring me the valance.  She never did and now does not answer her phone.  I called the shade man back and he said she was sick, but would look into it.  How could one person make so many bad choices on one apartment???

Oh well, it is going to be home for a while.  There is no use even looking during the "high season".  Next summer I will reassess the situation.  I have poured a lot of time and money in the place and the location is great even if it is over a bus depot (all Mismaloya buses leave from my building)  But, you know what they say in real estate about "location".  Also Jose and his wife have set up a little food stand under my balcony where I can get coffee cake and fresh fruit every morning.  I should also mention that across from the bus loading zone are seven taco stands, that I have yet to try.  I still have no TV or microwave and I have yet to get a new lease eliminating the first two months.  But we will see how it goes.  I have invited some friends over for cocktails this Friday to see the apartment.  I am going to send you a few photos, but remember it is still not done yet (and may never be done).  The mural was from a former tenant (they were going to paint it out) so I took a color out of the painting and did the whole room. 

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