VISA

Yeah, yeah, I know, it has been a long time.  Well you got three in one month, I thought that would keep you happy for a while.  The truth is that nothing of any interest has happened to me.  Or, could it be that after seven years of living here. all the weird crazy stuff about Mexico now seems normal to me?  This will be a two or three part as well, and the finale won't be until late March.  Don't panic I will think of some thing to write about before then.

For seven years I have entered Mexico with a six month tourist visa.  Then I leave of a few days to a few weeks and return on another six month tourist visa.  This is not entirely true as I did have for the first two years what was then called an FM3.  It allowed me to stay one year before getting a renewal.  But the last time I renewed it, I had to make seven trips to the Immigration Office.  The Mexican red tape and bureaucratic nonsense drove me nuts.  So I decided not to renew again as I was leaving Mexico a couple of times a year anyway.  But eventually I got tired of being forced to leave every six months when I had no reason to return to Laguna anyway.  Yes, I still have a few friends left who are not dead or stuck away in rest homes,  My thought was that I have visited them dozens of times since moving here and none have visited me.  The only guest I have ever had was Noriko who came all the way from Japan.

So last year I decided to try for a Temporary Residency which allowed me to stay here for one to four years.  Several years ago Mexico changed the procedure so you had to return to your own country to start the process at a Mexican Embassy.  Ahead of my trip last year, I began trying to connect with the Consulate in Santa Ana.  Getting through their web site was impossible for me as almost everything is in Spanish,  I tried phoning them for weeks.  If a recording ever came on, it told you to press "1"  "2" etc. but all in Spanish so I never knew which one to pick  Finally I managed to get a real person who spoke reasonable English (mind you this is in the U.S.)  Only to discover that Santa Ana does not give appointments for Temporary Residency.  They told me to contact West Los Angeles or San Diego.  Well San Diego was much closer to Laguna and I found on the Google map that it was located just a few blocks off the freeway.  Weeks more to hack into their web site only to find out that they were booked for months.

That ended that, but since then the Mexican Government has started to crack down on people who use the tourist visa to live here permanently.  I cannot say for sure, but I would bet that it is in retaliation for the way Trump is treating Mexico.  Stupid really since tourism is one of the biggest sources of income for Mexico.  Nobody ever said they were smart or logical.  Jennifer ran into that when we returned from Guatemala and was told it was her last six month visa.  She had to get a residency card.  She has now started her process by going to the consulate in Las Vegas.  She is actually Canadian, but a friend of ours learned that in Vegas you did not need an appointment and usually could get your stamp in one day.  So much for returning to the country where you are a citizen.

After the fiasco with Santa Ana Consulate, I tried to get an appointment in San Diego.  But they were booked solid for months.  But I had until March on my last six month visa and decided to do it then.  So I started four months in advance.  I could not get through the web site for an appointment, which cannot be done by phone.  Small wonder since they never answer their phone.  I tried for a month.  Everything is in Spanish but finally I got a page that had a box "click here for translation"  Thank God, I thought.  But when I clicked on it the screen said "this page is not available in English"  What the F... language did they think I wanted?  Chinese??

I decided to call my computer guru who has helped me for years.  He worked for an over an hour and could not get through to make an appointment,  He did manage to send emails to San Diego and to the Embassy.  They do not accept emails!!  It seemed hopeless and I was almost ready to try Las Vegas (even though  I loath the town) but I had already booked my flight.  By booking in advance I got a really cheap ticket but I still had to get an appointment.  Another friend of mine who is not only very good with computers, but had already obtained his Permanent Visa in Las Vegas.  He did get through but they were only accepting appointment 2 1/2 months in advance (and all of those were booked),

You might think that it is because Americans are leaving The U.S. in droves because of what Trump has done to us.  Maybe, but the real reason is that Trump is deporting all the children that were illegally brought to The U.S. and most have no birth certificate (most are born in homes)  The Mexican Government will not accept them.  They have a very strong immigration against Guatemalans, Nicaraguans, etc and who knows who these kids are.  Some can barely speak Spanish have no relatives in Mexico.  So they flood the Consulate trying to get documentation as they must leave.   It is tragic, but not my immediate problem.

John had to check every night and every morning as they added only one day at a time.  Finally he managed to get me my appointment of March 12th at 9:00.  This will give me a whole week for my second appointment to get my passport stamped.  Once you return you have 30 days to apply at the local Mexican immigration office for your residency card.  Otherwise you must return to The States and start all over again.  Also when you return to Mexico you must tell the immigration man to only stamp it for 30 days.  If he gives you a six month stamp, you must return to The U.S. and start all over again.
They do not make it easy and John also told me I must use a lawyer here for the second part as it is the most difficult.  The form you must fill out is in Spanish (of course) but if you use a Spanish dictionary, you will not know what the word or passage means.  It seems they use colloquial Mexican phrases and words.  Will it ever end?  /Stay tuned!

MEXICO CITY Y EL FINAL DEL VIAJE

We were both sad at leaving our little casa in Antigua.  In spite of the ordeal of my visiting Tikal, we really liked it there.  Our driver picked us up at the door and drove to Guatemala Airport.  It is a relatively small airport and easily managed.  Like every other airport in the world now,  they have kiosks to get your boarding pass.  When I booked my reservation it did not ask for my passport (which was odd since it was an international flight)  I had to enter my name but I do not use my middle name for in Mexico for that is actually your last name.  There were three boxes and I could not move on until something was in the third box.  I entered "Mr."  Remembering that I entered Larry Mr. and sure enough it popped up.  Instead of what we are accustomed to in a boarding pass it spewed out three 8 x 11 sheets of paper.  One was placed inside my checked luggage which I thought was a good idea.  Jennifer was not so lucky as it would not accept her real last name.  She had to go to another window to explain her problem.  They gave her what looked like a grocery receipt.

No problem with the flight and we pulled up to an actual gate so getting off the plane was no problem.  I walked up to Immigration and told the man I understood no Spanish.  He muttered a few words I did not understand and stamped my passport and visa.  Not so for Jennifer.   She got a real bitch who questioned her entry into Mexico just 6 months earlier.  She was told that a mark was going on her passport so unless she obtained a permanent visa, she would not be allowed back into Mexico again.  She was almost in tears.  She spoke perfect Spanish and yet I breezed through with no problem.  That will be our next battle:  getting permanent visas.  We had a nice cab driver who drove to our hotel, but had to let us out at the corner as our street was a pedestrian only street that led to the Zocalo (or main square of Mexico City)  The room was quite small but very clean and very well equipped and it was in a great location (unlike our first hotel).   The Hotel Ritz in Mexico bares no resemblance the The Ritz in Paris, other than it's name.  It is an old hotel, I think it said 1939 (which makes it younger than I am) but the baths had been redone with white marble and frosted glass.

We wandered around the Zocalo marveling at the beautiful buildings all illuminated.  We had arrived just a few days after the earthquake hit.  But the only sign of it were the tents set up in the middle of the square where food and housewares were handed out to the homeless.  We saw no damage at all.
Mexico City is an enormous megalopolis of over 21 million people (most are extremely poor) But around the Zocalo every one looked prosperous and in a hurry (just like all major cities)   On the way back we stopped to watch a little kid playing a small guitar and singing with all his heart.  He was just amazing.  When he wasn't singing he pressed his ear on the guitar listening to the sounds.  We are hoping he will be discovered by someone for he could be the next Mexican Michael Jackson or maybe Ricky Martin.  He was that good and so cute.  I can't remember if we ate that night as both of us were so tired.  I had brought a flask of Scotch with  me and Jennifer bought a bottle of Tequila at a local tienda (I had also brought a flask of Tequila for her, but she drank it in Antigua)  Maybe that is why we never ate.

The next morning I was up early and quickly dressed  in sweats to go to the lobby and get some coffee for my morning coffee and cigarette.  There was no coffee in the lobby and they directed me to the dinning room where a huge buffet had been set up for our complimentary breakfast.  I told the girl I just wanted coffee to take outside to have with a cigarette.  She said I could not take the cup outside so I told her I would take it to my room (a lie of course).  This is all in Spanish.  She said if I took the coffee to my room, I had to sign by my room number and that would be considered my complimentary breakfast.  WHAT??  I will never travel again without my portable coffee pot.  I got a cup of coffee next door and sat on a bench in the middle of the street to have my smoke.  No one else seem to be smoking anywhere.  A couple of policemen walked toward me and I was afraid I would be cited for drinking and smoking in the street.  (Is this Laguna Beach, or what??)  They passed by and I was struck by the fact that they carried only a pistol.  In Vallarta 18 year old kids are sporting machine guns.

Jennifer's main reason for visiting Mexico City was to see the home of Frida Kahlo.  Frida is an icon in Vallarta although she never got near the town.  Our favorite bar is called Un Bar Frida and there are paintings of her all over, including a huge mural that was cut out and moved from their previous location.  Jennifer has written a book on Un Bar Frida and the colorful characters that frequent the place.  The book also discusses the life of Frida and some similarities to Jennifer's life.  I had purchased tickets on the internet for I heard they were lines around the block.  Not so!  I was first struck by the size of the property which was originally owned by her parents.  The house is quite large and the walled gardens even larger.  I commented that her parents must have been rich, but Jennifer said the were not.  Even in the 1950's a property that size must have been worth a lot of money in the middle of Mexico City.   They had not only her paintings, but photos, and in glass cases her wardrobe and jewelry.  She was known for her large collection of precolonial art  (some of which was on display)  Along the way (in English) her life is chronicled as well as describing the use of each room during her life time.  She had many, many physical problems which she overcame.  Her clothing was designed to hide her deformed body.  She was considered quite gorgeous and attracted attention where ever she went.  The gardens are also gorgeous (which was the only thing I was allowed to photograph).  I really enjoyed it, but not as much as Jennifer.

I was still suffering from my cold and ran out of Kleenex.  I wanted out and go to a pharmacy.  I was told there was one 3 or 4 blocks away, but Jennifer thought we should get a cab.  As we headed back to our hotel I said,  "I am dying, get me to a pharmacy"  The driver said they are everywhere and I said,  "Fine take me to one".  It was just a few blocks from our hotel.  For some reason they sold me three boxes of the stuff.  They must have seen I was suffering.  I do not know what it was as it was a Pharmacia Similar.  What ever they worked so we walked to the Zocalo where there is a roof top terrace overlooking the Zocalo.  We started up the stairs, but when we got to the second floor I said, "Find me an elevator"  I think it was the fifth floor.  The food was so so, but the view was nice.

I was not in the mood to do much more walking so we returned to the hotel.  We wanted a really nice dinner for our last night and I had to recover first.  I asked the concierge and he showed me on the map where a nice reasonable restaurant was located.   Later that evening we set off.  He was a few blocks off on the restaurant but Jennifer spotted it.  The manager said they were closed.  Why?  There was no one in the place so maybe that is why.  Discouraged Jennifer looked across the plaza and spotted one on the corner.  It was a Kaiser of Paris which is basically pastry.  But next door was a nice restaurant with outdoor dinning.  We settled in there.  To our surprise and delight there was an ash tray on the table.  The first we had seen in Mexico City.  The food was wonderful and the ambiance even better.  Jennifer said she felt like she was back in Rome.  A perfect ending to our vacation,  I went back the following morning to take a picture of the restaurant and the square where it was located.
It is a short flight to Vallarta and we cleared customs and were out in front in no time.  Over Jennifer's protests, I hailed an airport taxi.  I was dropped off first.  So nice to be home again!  In spite of a few set backs (like Tikal) it was a wonderful trip.  Jennifer is a lot of fun to travel with.   Less than 30 seconds after I opened the sliding door to the balcony, kitty appeared.  She was screaming her head off.  I picked her up and carried her to my desk.  She likes to sit on my lap while I am at the computer.  I needed to check my email and wanted to spend some quality time with her, but also I was delaying going upstairs.  Felipe had messaged me at the M.C. airport.  He had his wife cleaning my apartment and she discovered that a lot of stuff had been stolen from the terrace.  I had only paid Felipe to water my plants and look in on kitty, but he had my apartment cleaned anyway.  That is the kind of person he is.

When I first opened the door I am not sure what I thought I would see, but I was surprised that everything looked the same.  There was no vandalism, nothing broken or even moved.  They just took everything that they thought they could sell.  My fan and ladder may be the most expensive things to replace, but my devil mask with the sheep horns will be the most difficult to find.  They took all my tools, including my garden tools, ash tray, even kitty's brush.  They also took several pieces of Mexican folk art.  Odd! as Mexicans do not like their own folk art, especially the younger ones.  But they were not stealing it for their own use, but to sell.  All the pillow cases to the pillows on my chairs were gone.  That also seemed odd, then I realized that they needed them to carry all the stuff away.  Still, it must have taken them several trips.  They also stole stuff from my neighbors patio and hit the patio of the taco restaurant next door.  Busy boys!

September is the slowest month of the year in Vallarta.  The foreign tourists have not arrived and all the Mexican tourist left when their kids went back to school.  There is no business,  no jobs and they have no money: so they steal.  They mean us no harm they just need money for food and they believe that anything they take an American can easily replace.  To a Mexican all Americans are rich, even someone like myself.   Tracy (my neighbor) and I have gotten together and made up a plan to stop the theft.  We now think they use the tin roof of the taco stand below her balcony on the side street as it has new dents in it.  We are going to put razor wire on their roof (with their permission of course) then install motion detection flood lights on her balcony and lower patio.  This I have offered to pay half of the cost.  They cannot reach my deck except from hers.  She also wants to put in a motion detection camera.  That may work as a deterrent, but even if it captured the face of the thieves, what can you do with it?   It is a hazard of living in a poor country, but I would not consider living anywhere else.

                                                           *************************88

TIKAL

The main reason I wanted to visit Guatemala was to see the ruins of the Mayan empire in Tikal.  I have been to most of the pyramids in Mexico (Mayan and Aztec) as well as Cambodia and Egypt (which dwarfs all of them)  What I did not know is how far it was from the house we had rented in Antigua.  I was told it was an eight hour bus ride.  I could do that in one day I thought.  I would take the over night bus, hopefully sleep a little.  Then spend 3 or 4 hours touring the pyramids and return to Antigua.  It did not work out as planned.
Yes, It is eight hours from Guatemala City to a town near Tikal.  But you have to get to Guatemala City and then from Flores to Tikal.  I decided to do it anyway.  The flight was too expensive and I still would have the problem of getting from Antigua to the Guatemala airport (wait God knows how long for the flight) and then get from the airport to Tikal.  I did find a one day tour from Antigua that would fly me there and provide transportation and a guide.  It was $639.00! (but it did include a lunch).  Out of the question!  Our round trip from Puerto Vallarta was $200.00 less than that.  I did consider staying overnight, but where?  I was traveling by myself and was a little worried about staying in a town I knew nothing about.
I booked the tickets for the bus ride and contacted my guide about when I would arrived in Flores.  He answered that he would meet me at the bus terminal in Santa Elena.  Was that the name of the depot? I arrived in Flores and as people were getting off, I asked the driver if this was called Santa Elena.  He said, "No, it is the next stop"  Thank God I asked.  We arrived about 5:15am.  I had not been able to sleep on the bus at all.  Two "gang banger types" sat in front of me and immediately threw their seat back.  The tray table banged into my knees and suddenly I realized I had no place to put my legs.  The Guatemalans (of Mayan descent) have very short legs.  My vertebrae has shrunk by almost two inches, but my legs are still long.  It was impossible to get into a comfortable position.  Plus the guy in front was either texting or talking on his phone for hours.  Two ambien did not help.

The bus station in Santa Elena was scary, but I got some coffee and settled down to wait.  About 6:30 my guide walked up to me.  He said he had been there in 6:00 looking for me.  I was outside smoking, of course.  But we still had to wait until 8:00 for the first van to Tikal.  The van kept letting off and picking up people so we did not get to the park until 9:30.  I had been up for 27 hours at that point.  The walk through the pyramids is four miles.  He insisted I climb the highest temple which is 194 steps.  Somehow I did it.   The temple is 781 feet tall.  Once I reached the top there was a stone ledge about four feet wide and then a shear drop.  It terrified me and I placed by arms against the stone wall fearful of fainting.  My guide wanted to take picture of me at the top.  But as you know I do not allow photographs of  myself.  From the photo I took from there you can only see two of the pyramids sticking up above the jungle.

The Mayan civilization began around 900 B.C. and continued until almost 900 A.D.  (Two Thousand years, can you believe?)  They think the city which was built on a hill around 250 A.D. but was abandoned in 900 A,D. because of several years of drought.  They had built reservoirs and canals to serve the city of 200,000 people.  The temples and buildings became over grown by the jungle with trees growing all over them.  The native Mayans still went there to worship but when the Spaniards arrived in the low lands, no one told them that Tikal was on top of the hill.  If the Spaniards had known they would have torn them down and put a plastic Jesus on top.  Thank God they missed it.  In 1848 the government made it a national park. but it wasn't until 1955 that any excavation took place. Wrigley (of chewing gum) had built an air strip there to take the sap from the gum trees and that is how an archaeologist from Pennsylvania  heard about it.  He worked years clearing off some of the temple sites and several other archaeologists followed him.  Yet only 20% has been excavated.  I kind of liked seeing what the temples looked like covered by the jungle.  That is what that mound of trees is about.

It is a huge site of 576 square kilometers and it is all in a dense jungle. It rains 9 months out of the year.  So it is far more than the jungle that surrounds Vallarta.  Lots of wild life.  I got a picture on one of the spider monkeys that are all over the trees.  It was the howler monkey that fascinated me.  He lets out a roar that sounds like a huge lion and yet he is smaller than the spider monkey.  We also saw some toucans and my guide said a black jaguar was passing us.  All of them were too quick for a photograph.  At the information center (where all the trinkets are for sale) there is a stone replica of the original sign for Tikal.  My guide told me what all the symbols meant but I was brain dead by then.  I do remember that the large round thing is the back of a head.  They wrapped their hair in rolls of fabric much like the Sikhs do in India. The model lay out gives you some idea of the size of the city.

 One temple was dedicated to a king and the opposing temple to his wife.  His skeleton was found under the temple (covered with 158 pieces of jade) but they have not yet looked for his queen.  There is no money for any more excavation.  Tragic!!  The royal family lived in the 38 palaces containing 140 rooms.  It was a dynasty, but a woman could succeed as queen.  The long flat building with the people on top is one of the palaces.  One was for a market where the Mayans could buy food and stuff.  The observatory is tall with the flat roof was to study the stars.  Three smaller temples were in front of it to depict the exact time of the summer and winter equinox.  On top of the observatory they followed Venus and the Milky Way trying to determine the length of a complete celestial cycle.  They figured it would take until 2012.  It was not the end of the world, but the end and beginning of a new celestial cycle.  The roads were built of limestone covered with plaster.  The temples were the same, but were painted red, yellow, or blue (the three primary colors).

According to my guide they did not practice human sacrifice.  But since he was of Mayan decent, maybe he was jut trying to clean up their act.  He said the offerings to the Gods were of incense, flowers and chocolate.  Chocolate came from the higher mountains so they traded for it.  They mixed it with honey and a red plant that made it resemble blood. Only the royal family and the priests were allowed chocolate.  After the revolution and the break with Spain, the Guatemalan government allowed the Mayans back into the park to practice their religion and make offerings to the Gods.

 What I still do not understand is how these people obtained such a vast knowledge of engineering, astronomy, and math.  They came up with the concept of the "zero" which few cultures at the time had figured out.  They used only three symbols for numbers.  An oval was the zero, a dot was one, and a short line was a five.  With those three symbols you can create any number you want.  This is how the archaeologists were able to date everything.  Even more amazing they came up with a written language.  One of three independently developed written languages in the world.  How did this happen?  We think man came up out of Africa and walked to Asia and Europe.  Some speculate that they crossed the Bering Straights to get to the Americas.  It must have taken tens of thousands of year to reach the south of Mexico and into Guatemala.  Did they leave all the stupid people behind?  The rest of the people on the American continent were all still living in caves.  Okay there were the Incas in Peru but they did not come along until 600 years after the fall of the Mayan empire.  The Aztecs came into power in the early 1400's.  They had no idea who the Mayans were.

Okay, this is already too long and not funny,  Well here comes the funny part (although it was not funny to me at the time).  My round trip ticket included a van which picked me up at our casa at 6:30 at night.  The bus terminal in Guatemala City was a dirty scary place and I had a two hour wait for the bus.  I think I had a couple of beers, smoke a lot of cigarettes and waited.  The bath room was outside and a man at the door collected two Quetzals  for a hand full of toilet paper.  I did not need it for my purpose but decided to keep it.  The toilets had no seats and did not flush.  But there was what I guess was a huge bath tub.  The water was so black you could not see the bottom.   The first bus to Flores and Santa Elena did not have a working bathroom.  They made a pit stop around 1:00 in the morning.  It was a parking lot with a row of three quarter doors that looked like a row of out houses.  It wasn't much better.  Again the toilets had no seats and did not flush.  During two days I only found one flushing toilet with a seat and that was on the bus coming back.  Do people steal the toilet seats?  During the trip I noticed that a little boy would enter the bathrooms with a bucket of water and flush them.

In the park in Tikal the bath room was clean, but no toilet seat and no flushing.  At some point I had to do more than pee.  Nothing could posses me to actually sit on the rim of the toilet.  Imagine trying to hover over the toilet while holding on to my travel bag, camera, and sweat shirt (which was too hot to wear)  You would never dare sit anything on the floor.  To make it even more disgusting, there was a sign (in English) telling you not to put any paper in the toilet.  You were to place the used toilet paper in a trash can in front of you.  I would not attempt to describe the smell.

 After four hours of walking and climbing, I was about to die.  The van back to Santa Elena was at 3:00 arriving about 4:30 pm but my bus back did not arrive until 9:00.  I asked my guide if there was a Mexican restaurant across the street where I could sit and have dinner.  He said that he would not advice me to leave the terminal.  There were armed guards with machine guns outside.  I could not figure out if that made me feel safer or not.   The bus was late leaving. I have now been up for almost 40 hours.  I was sure I would sleep on the way home.

My seat partner was Gargantua.  Mayans are tiny but he was about 6 foot 2 and must have weighed 300 pounds.  He took up his seat and half of mine.  The bus was freezing cold.  It looked like dry ice coming out the vents,  Mind you all day I had been in 90 degree heat and 100% humidity.  The only good thing is that he was warm and I was forced to lie next to him.  I took more ambien and prayed I would sleep.  But the girl in front of me had her seat almost flat so again there was no place for my legs.  Apparently they were building a new road and we were diverted to a narrow rock strewn road that made the bus leap and lurch.  Maybe I nodded off again for the bus took 11 hours so I was more than three hours late for my van to my house.  First I stepped outside for a cigarette.  Not having smoked for 12 hours and being so tired I thought I would faint and put it out.  The lady  at the counter did somehow understand my problem (no one speaks English) and called the number on the ticket.

A van finally appeared but it was already loaded.  There were 12 kids on it plus me.  The van made several stops dropping people off so it was after 10;00 when we arrived in Antigua.  We turned off the main road from Guatemala on Ave 6 Oriente,  I lived just off Ave 7 Oriente.  Why I did not scream to get off, I do not know (I was nearly unconscious by then).  The van continued to drop people off and I assumed he would go back and drop me off at my house.  NO !  He said this is the end of the line and you must get off.  But I do not know where I am.  He said,  "This is Antigua"  Fine but where is my house?  I was too tired to argue more so when  a city bus came by I hopped on.  I figured if I stayed on it long enough I would recognize a street.  Sure enough I saw Ave 7 Oriente, but I was too late is standing up and the bus moved on.  When I got off I was still disoriented and was not sure what street to walk down. Some how I staggered home by 10:30. (52 hours since I had last been to bed).  Jennifer was near hysterical as I was to arrive by 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning.  I showered (it had been two days) had a glass of wine and went to bed.
 When I got up I had a horrible cold.  There were still places I wanted to see in Antigua, but I was not up to it.  Was the trip to Tikal worth it?  Well, I did it so I guess I have to say it was.  But only someone who was stupid or insane would attempt it without staying overnight.  Yes, I know what that makes me, but I never said I was smart.  Mexico City and the end of the trip are next.  STAY TUNED,

                                                    *******************************

ANTIGUA GUATEMALA

Last year we talked about going to Guatemala.  We both had to leave Mexico and return to get our new six month visa in September.  But Jennifer went to Canada to see her mother who was turning ninety (nice to know someone is older that I am) and so I went to visit my friends in San Francisco. So this year we were determine to go.  I have a friend at the gym who has made many trips to Guatemala and said he thought I would love it.  He also recommended several hotels in Antigua.  My Mexican friend Elvis said, "Oh, Larry you must not go to Guatemala".  It is too dangerous, many gangs and crime"  I told him that is exactly what my friends in The U.S. say about Mexico, so I was not deterred.  Guatemala has always been sort of a poorer step child to Mexico (sort of like what Mexico is to The U.S.)
I was to check on flights and Jennifer was going to take care of the reservations, so I gave her the names of the hotels that I had checked out.  They were both charming old colonial buildings and very cheap.  But Jennifer wanted a more luxurious vacation and decided on a two bed, two bath fully stocked house at more than twice the price.  I suspect it might have been because I snore. It did look nice so I agreed although I was already worried about what the trip was going to cost me.  I could not get a flight plan that would take us from P.V. through Mexico City to Guatemala City and the shuttle to Antigua in one day.  There was one flight, but it gave us one hour and a half to planes for an international flight.  Not possible we figured, so it meant an over night in Mexico City (more money)  We had the same problem on the return flight, so Jennifer decided we should stay two nights in order to see Mexico City.  I had not been there in almost 50 years, so I said Okay..

But I still had to book a trip from Antigua to Tikal to see the pyramids.  Jennifer was not interested in that especially when I told her it was an 8 hour bus ride each way.  My friend at the gym gave me the name and number of a driver for Antigua and he gave me the name of a guide in Tikal.  I figured I would work that out when we got there. My friend recommended an over night there, but I did not want to stay by myself in a town I did not know anything about.

A few days before our flight I decided to go back to Santandar Bank to draw out pesos from my American account, put some in my Mexican account and also I needed U.S. dollars.  For some reason our hosts wanted dollars for the house and so did the driver.  After pulling out a bunch of cash from my U.S. account I went in the bank to deposit more in my Mexican account.  I thought it might be easier and safer to use that when in Guatemala.  No teller speaks a word of English and though it is obvious I do not understand a word they way they continue to prattle on in rapid fire Spanish.  He carefully inspected each peso I was depositing.  After that was complete I told him I wanted to purchase U.S. dollars.  With a  quizzical face he asked for my passport.  WHY??  I was taking out less than I had just deposited, but after my last losing battle with the bank I decided to return home to get my passport.   I gave it to him and pushed across what I thought was sufficient pesos for the dollars I needed.  He pushed it back and said something.  Luckily the man next to me told me he wanted to take it out of my account.  Okay, so I gave him my card.  The dollars were in his drawer, but it still seemed to take forever while I signed multiple papers.

But then I had to deposit more pesos to cover what he had taken out.  Not trusting what my credits and debits showed, I wanted a copy of my statement.  He sent me to another lady and after handing her my card and passport she produced a statement.  It was correct.  I was elated and left the bank, but had to stop at the store for some groceries.  After unloading the groceries I began pulling cash (both pesos and dollars) out of my gym shorts.  NO BANK CARD!  Panicked I went back to the store. They had no card.  So for a third time I marched to the bank.  Mind you this was one of the hottest most humid days we have had.  I went to the desk where I had last used my card and she was gone.  I found the manager (the only one in the bank who speaks any English).  I told him my sad tale and he said she was at lunch.  I tried to impress upon him the urgency of my request so he went to the lunch room to find her.  He came out and said she had given the card back to me.  I had just put all that money for my trip into an account I could no longer access.  How long to get a new card?  A least a week he said.  I was about to fall apart when I man walked into the bank and over to the manager and handed him a card he found outside..  It was mine!  This was just the beginning of the trip.

The flight to Mexico City was short and uneventful.  Since we booked separately, Jennifer was in the front and I was in the back.  The plane landed a long ways from the terminal. They said there were no gates available.  Okay, that happens and we waited for a bus to take us to the terminal.  Finally people started to move and then it stopped.  We all stood there waiting, but nothing moved. Finally someone translated for me that they said they had no more buses and we had to wait.  I was on the plane on the tarmac for longer that the entire flight.  How could they have no buses in an airport as large as Mexico City??  Jennifer who had gotten off first was panicky wondering what had happened to me. At last I joined her and we hailed a cab for our hotel.  He had never heard of it, but luckily Jennifer had the telephone number.  The driver called and got directions.

The hotel was listed as an Airport Hotel, but turned out to be 20 minutes away in a run down industrial area.  As the driver weaved through smaller and smaller alleys of nothing but closed garage doors, I turned to Jennifer and said,  "This does not look promising"  He finally arrived at the back of the hotel so we had to enter through the parking garage.  The hotel turned out to be very nice but not a good location.  It was a convention hotel, very well appointed, very clean with a nice dinning room. Fortunately for I would not step outside at night in that neighborhood without an armed guard.  There was no coffee pot, but coffee was available in the lobby.   However since there was no smoking anywhere in the hotel I went outside and sat on a bench to drink and smoke.

The next day we flew to Guatemala City where our driver met us with sign with both our names on it.  She was very nice and spoke some English and explained a lot about Antigua on our way in (about an hours drive).  The house was a really cute little casa.  There was a small court yard entry with heavy wood doors onto the street.  Not really little as it was a tri level with two bedrooms and two and a half baths.  It was fully stocked with everything we needed so we could cook breakfast and dinner thus saving money.  It also had a washer and dryer which I really liked. The house had a wonderful roof top deck with a view of the three volcanoes.  (Well on the one morning when the clouds lifted above the volcanoes).  One wonders why the Spaniards decided to built the capital of Guatemala in a valley surrounded by three volcanoes. One is still active periodically spewing flames into the sky.  It was not the volcanoes that destroyed the city, but an earthquake in 1773 that leveled the town.  So the capital was moved to what in now Guatemala City.  Parts of the ruins of the 16th Century churches are still visible.  It was slowly rebuilt mostly of one story colonial houses.  Except for the churches which are huge and very baroque.

It is a very walk able  town with lots of parks and plazas.  A very beautiful place.   Antigua is more expensive that Vallarta.  Drinks and food is almost twice the price.  Why? I wondered.  Most mornings I went out while Jennifer worked on her computer.  She is a contract writer for several companies and had to product a certain amount of writing a day.  My first day I came upon a market spread out in the street in front of the facade of a ruined church.  It is mostly textiles for which Guatemalan are famous for.  I was going to bring Jennifer back as she was more interested in the textiles than I am.  But I did buy an oil painting of the arch with the volcano in the back ground.  It was only about $12.00.  Why are drinks so expensive?  Unfortunately for Jennifer the market is only there on Saturday and Sunday so she missed it, but still bought a ton of stuff in other stores.  I heard there was a beautiful garden nor too far from us.  (You know how I love plants).  It was like a mini botanical garden with orchids and gorgeous hanging vines,  It had a little cafe where I had lunch.
The number of scooters and motor bikes was amazing.  I have not seen so many since Rome.  But with the tiny streets, they only allowed parking on one side.  Some streets had no parking at all and there are no parking lots or under ground garages, so cars are limited.

We found a bar just off the main square that we liked and went back several times.  The bar tender flirted with Jennifer after asking if we were married.  I thought that was a little insulting to Jennifer since I look more like her grandfather.  In any case he got no where.  Our favorite restaurant was a pizza place we chose mainly because we could smoke in the patio.  It was the best pizza I have ever had and Jennifer who lived many years in Italy agreed (with a possible exception in Italy).  It was a thin crust covered with Parmesan and then fresh thin sliced ham, arugula, and large peels of Parmesan cheese.   We bought two of them. Two nights Jennifer cooked pasta with what was already in the kitchen.  I was too exhausted and sick from my trip to Tikal.

One square with arches over a water basin is where the early inhabitants got their water.  There are a series of basins where women still wash their clothes.  The main cathedral on the square still had remains  of the original church which you could visit.  While I was in Tikal Jennifer visited a convent which had rooms set up as there were hundreds of years ago for the nuns.  Antigua is a beautiful city with narrow cobble stone streets.  It is not as elegant as San Miguel de Allende which must have been a much more prosperous city in the 18th and 19th century, but it is very charming.  Because of my ordeal in Tikal, I was unable to see as much as I would have liked to.  Maybe I will go back at Easter when they have processions of flower carpeted floats with life size statues that are carried through the streets.  This is much to long already, so I will write about Tikal and Mexico City later  (when I feel like it)

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BANCO SANTANDER

When I arrived here seven years ago, my friend Richard told me not to use the many ATM's along Calle B. Badillo or Restaurant Row.  They were not good or safe, but to cross the river to Banco Santander.  After a few years of doing that I thought I should open an account in Mexico.  That way if I ever had to use a credit card (debit card) and it was compromised they could not get to the cash in my American Bank (not that there is much there either).  It was a horrible ordeal to open an account and took hours and a couple of trips.  I knew they would want a pass port, but an electric bill?  Everyone wants a copy of your electric even though it is not in my name.

As it happens, I never have an occasion to use a charge card here.  Most places do not take them (even a Mexican one),  Basically I forgot about the account. Years later I thought to check and see how much was in it.  You never get any statements here.  They would not get through the mail anyway.  I found that the account was locked.  I went in the bank and after waiting for an hour was told that the account was inactive and therefore blocked.  In order to unblock it I had to go home and bring in my passport,   As I recall this took a fair amount of time, but it was finally done.  After that I decided to occasionally pull money out or make a deposit.  Every thing was fine.

In a few weeks I am off to Guatemala so for months I have been adding deposits every month and not taking any out.  Thank God I had to foresight to make sure it was okay.  (It really wasn't foresight, it was because I have lived in Mexico)  Also, I had tried to buy tickets to the Frida Kahlo museum in Mexico City and the card was turned down.  Sure enough the account was "restricted"  Again I went in the bank to complain.  First the teller looked at the card and shoved it back at me.  I shoved it back to her and complained (not that it does any good here)  She pointed a woman seated at a desk across the room.
I stood patiently for about 20 or 30 minutes  before she acknowledged me.  I told her of my problem. She kept looking at the card and turning it over as if she could spot the problem.  Finally the manager came over (who does speak English) and told me she would escort me out to the ATM kiosk.  Of course it said "Restricted" just as I had been telling them.  The manager took over and told me I needed to bring in my passport.

The following day I returned with my passport and a copy of it.  I remembered the hassle Noriko and I had trying to cash her U.S. dollars into pesos.  Again I waited for the manager.  He greeted  me and took me to another desk and a woman who spoke no English.  She kept typing something on her computer and occasionally spoke to someone on the phone.  It seemed like an hour, but probably not quite that long and nothing was happening.  I told her I would be back later and she said "Uno momento"  (that can be an interminable amount of time here).  Finally the manager strode by and I asked him if I could come back later.  All they have to do is strike a couple of codes on the computer. Right?   After speaking to the no English woman, he turned to me and said that they may wish to speak to me.  WHO??  I have the card, I know the pin number, they have my passport and I had the receipt from my last deposit.  What is the problem?   With a perfectly straight face he said,  "They may decide it is easier just to issue you a new card"  ARE THEY JOKING??   How long would it take?  He said, "Maybe a week"   Well I have lived here long enough to know what that can mean, so I insisted they unblock my account.  I wanted the card for the trip to Guatemala.  I then asked him if I had to make a charge or withdrawal every month.  He said "Yes or the account is deemed inactive and is frozen"  Even if I am making deposits every month.  YES!  Does this make any sense to you?  BUT IT'S MEXICO !

The woman continued typing on her computer with the phone in her ear.  I knew whatever she was typing had nothing to do with me.  She would pick up a file, put in a couple things in the computer then write something on it and turn it over on the other side of her desk.  Finally she motioned me to get up and follow her.  She asked if I knew my PIN number.  Of course I do, how stupid does she think I am.  (Do not go there!)  Sure enough it worked, but the balance was at least 1,000 less than what I thought should be in the account.  I asked her if I could get a statement.  She either did not understand or did not want to answer.  I said,  "I need to know what the debits and credits are to this account"  She looked at me like I was asking for the code to the bank vault walked away.  I did not want to reenter the bank again that day.  Maybe Never !


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UN CELULAR NUEVO

Technically it was not a "new" cell phone as Saul bought it for me on the internet for less than $70.00.  Was it stolen?  Maybe,  but it did come in it's original box (minus the instructions)  Of course the instructions would have been in Spanish and I have trouble following instructions in English.   I think I was about the only person in Vallarta who did not have a smart phone (that includes  7 and 8 year old kids as well).  Well, there is Jennifer who refused to have a phone of any kind even though her TelMex internet service comes with a free phone line.

I had resisted it for two reasons.  One I did not want to pay another phone company for service I would rarely use, and two: I was not sure I would ever learn how to operate one (that point still remains a question).  I would see people pecking at them or flipping it up down and sideways in a manner that completely confused me.  Then one night Saul (my major fix it man and friend) was showing me photos on his cell phone   I will not tell you what of, but you would not want them on your phone (or maybe you would)  I commented that the cell phone takes better photos than my camera.  When he told me what he paid for it I was amazed.  Then I asked what his service bill was and he said 100 pesos a month.  I was astonished and he said that included not only unlimited calls but internet as well.  My cheap Mexican phone (it is called a dumb phone here) has a volume so low that I had a terrible time understanding what any one was saying.  (my hearing problems are getting worse).  He showed me that I could almost hear what was being said across the table.  He then told me that I could take the SIM card out of my old phone and insert it so I would have the same number and all my contacts would appear.  How could I resist any longer?  So I told him when he found another one on the internet to call me.

A few days later my buzzer rang and there was Saul holding out the package, then saying he must run to catch the bus to Tuito and was gone.  I took it out and decided to charge it.  But the phone said it was 96% charged already.  Okay, so how do we turn it on?  Saul said he would be back at 4:00.  At 9:30 that night my door bell rang and of course, it was Saul.  I had not even paid him for it as he ran off so fast.  He took the SIM card out of my old phone and tried to insert it in the new one.  (I have no idea what SIM stands for but it is a tiny piece of card board with a brass chip attached)  It would not fit.  He said I had an old fashioned card and we must go to Telcel to get it exchanged.  This was just the beginning of my problems.

At the Telcel store the guy merely cut down my SIM card and it fit.  He also switched it to English (not that it has been much help to me anyway).  But as far as the 100 peso a month plan, I did not qualify as I was already a Telcel user.  Does that make any sense to you?  Also the plan is actually for 33 days instead of one month.  HEY, IT IS MEXICO !  He said I could continue just buying more time at any OXXO store like I have before.  That was fine with me as I rarely use more than 100 pesos a month anyway.

We went back to my place (Saul insisted I turn on my airconditioner) and he did manage to hook it up with the wifi modem I have for the computer.  But when I tried to get Google Crome, it asked for my account number.  What account number?  All computers just come with Google (don't they?)  I tried to put in a password that I use for almost everything.  That is when I discovered that I cannot hit the right number or key.  The one next to it always pops up.  Then when I had almost completed it, the entire thing would disappear.  I gave up.  He showed me where my Contacts were, but by then I was tired.   He also adjusted the sound.  He said I could have any kind of ring I wanted and I said, "Just make it loud"  I should have had him call me on it, but we were both tired.

The next morning Richard called me.  My phone was ringing and it said "Richard" but I had no idea how to answer it.  I pressed everything on the screen and it kept ringing until he hung up.  There was a ringing spot in the middle of the screen, but nothing happened.  I must get my computer guru over here to help me.  Since I had such a problem hearing on the dumb phone, 80% of my correspondence was by text messaging.  It is essential with my Spanish speaking friends.  I may not be able to understand a word they say, but when I see it written, I can usually figure it out.  Where is messaging on the phone?  One day it beeped so I know it was an incoming message, but no clue how to find it.  I was about to pull the SIM card out and put it back in my old phone.  But then would it fit?

By now you must be thinking "how dumb can this guy be?"   You must understand that I was middle aged before computer came into common usage,  You are also probably much younger than I am (Hell, almost everyone is) and your parents gave you some kind of computer while you were still in your baby crib, so Give me a Break!  I am old.  This is hard for me.  Okay!

I had to wait a day to call my computer guy because it was Sunday.  He is one of the brightest people I have met, but he does love to get drunk.  Especially Saturday night so I knew he was either passed out or getting drunk in a bar.  At least he is a happy drunk, not a mean one like Martin.  So Monday morning I tried to call.  I would get a mechanized voice that said something, but I had no idea what she was trying to tell me.  Was his line busy, out of order, or wrong number.  Finally I remembered that I had his email address.  I missed his first message when he said he would be there at 5:30 so he later said 12:30 the following day.

In the meanwhile my phone said the battery needed charging.  I plugged it in, but nothing happened. When I got the phone the battery was 96% charged.  What happened since I still cannot use it?  So I plugged it in again and NOTHING!  Either the cord is faulty or the battery.  So before he got here I had to go to Telcel.  I had been plugging it into the computer for that is the cord that it came with.  When I was packaging it all up to take it to Telcel I noticed there was also a plug connection.  I plugged it into the wall and VOILA ! it began to charge.  Who knew?  (Look, I know what you are thinking.  DO NOT GO THERE!)

I spent two hours with my computer guy.  Not all of that time on the phone as I also needed him to do some things on my computer (like getting the printer to work again).  There is so much to learn and my brain is very old, plus the loss of all those brain cells from years of booze and drugs.  It will certainly take some time and practice.  The worst part is trying to type as the wrong letter or number keeps popping up.  Some of it really seems dumb to me.  When the phone rings and that spot in the middle keeps vibrating, you do not press anything, he said to swipe the entire screen to the right.  Why doesn't it say so or better yet why not have a green button that says "answer"?  Also to just hold the screen open you have to swipe it.  Who came up with all this anyway?  Oh, he told me that the cord to the computer should charge the battery.  He said I must not have connected it properly (definitely as possibility)  Since then I have had the same problem even when plugged into the wall socket.  If I suck on the end of the cord before sticking in the phone, it works.  It must be something about Mexican wiring as I have the same problem with the night light in my bathroom.  I have to wet the plug before inserting it to get the light to go on.

Obviously I will have to spend a lot of time with my new phone, then call my guy after a week or so for more answers.  The following day I got a call.  That stupid circle kept pulsating and I swiped and swiped until they hung up,  It was a number I did not know and all the caller ID said was  "Mexico"  Does that mean Mexico City or that the call came from somewhere in Mexico.  I ignored it.  Then I found out that swiping does not work on this phone. It may on some, but not mine.  When not in use it shuts down to save on the battery.  You have to turn it back on to answer the phone  Then a bar pops up that you have to press  Well, it really does not like to be pressed, you have to tap it (ever so lightly)  You may have guessed this in not an Iphone.  This is going to take me a while.  Maybe the rest of my life.

The next morning I was determined to work with the phone and learn how to operate the stupid thing (Yes, I know it is not the phone that is stupid)  It was dead.  I could not charge the battery and it was a Sunday so unable to go to the Telcel store.  I left it plugged in all day and the battery was still zero.  Monday I went early only to find they do not open until 11:00.  When I went back, he asked how old the phone was.  Of course I do not know, but was not going to tell him I bought a stolen phone.  I said, I could not remember.  He said the batteries are only good for 2 or 3 years.  He  brought out a new battery plus he said I needed a crystal cover plus a protector.  That came to 460 pesos.  I went home to plug in the phone and NOTHING!!  I went back and he said maybe the cord got wet, with the humidity.  I was not going to tell him I had been sucking on the end of the cord (maybe that was not such a good idea).  He sold me a new plug for 150 pesos.  It did not work, so I went back AGAIN!  He gave me a new more powerful cord connection "Gratis"  Hell, I had already spent over 600 pesos with him that morning.  I plugged in my new cord into the phone (making sure the power was off first).  I then watched the battery go from 56% down to zero in about one hour (mind you the power is off)  I went back and he wanted to sell me a new super cord for 550 pesos.  I declined and called Saul.

Saul was upset as well, but not admitting any fault.  He says the first Telcel guy that He took me to must have switched out the original battery for a cheap Chinese one.  I told him that this was a new battery I had just bought as well as a new cable and still the phone zaps up any power left.  I had gone to a different Telcel store down the street as Saul's guy spoke no English.  We went first to see my guy, Saul ranted and screamed (I have no idea what was being said but the Telcel guy did not like it) Then we went to his Telcel guy (whom he thinks swicthed out the battery and he screamed, and cursed and treated to call the police).  Nothing happened and Saul said he had spent too much time already on it and without the original battery his guy would not take it back.  Left with no other choices I went back (5 trips today) and bought the 550 peso charger.  It worked like a charm and within a few hours the battery was fully charged and it worked fine.  But the following morning even with the power off, the battery had gone down to zero.   I plugged it in and placed it on a table.  Morning is kitty's play time.  She thought it was a new toy, pulled on the cord and the phone crashed to the tile floor smashing the crystal. (so much for the protective cover)

It is now dead.  My only hope is that I can get the SIM card back into my dumb phone.  \
MORAL:   If you buy on the cheap, it will cost you in the long run.


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LA TEMPORADA LLUVIOSA (THE RAINY SEASON)

Normally (what's normal in Mexico?) the rainy season begins in mid May.  This year it was the end of June before we had a good storm.  The weather report had predicted thunder storms for weeks, but all we had were cloudy skies and some sprinkles.  Summer came late too.  Even toward the end of June it was not that hot, although the humidity was from 90 to 100%.  Still I seldom had to use my air conditioner at night.  We had overcast skies and some cool breezes.

It was a Sunday when the first storm hit.  Jennifer and I had planned on a beach day, but the weather report said 90% chance of rain.  It was a cloudy misty morning, but then the sun came out.  Too late to arrange a beach day.  I had about given up on the rain and was headed to bed when suddenly it started to pour around 10:00.  Of course I had to pour myself another Scotch to sit up under my cabana and watch the rain, thunder and lightning.  (was that my third or fourth Scotch?  I do not remember)  It rained every night after that (from 2 to 5 inches).


My street flooded almost immediately, mainly because the priest of my church had decided he wanted a raised walk way from his house across the street from the church.  He closed the street to all traffic for two days, while pouring the concrete.  Did he get a permit to close the street and pour concrete over the hand laid cobble stones?  (probably not!)  This priest seems to do what ever he wants.  Last year he decided he wanted a little park out side the church.  He created it in the street eliminating parking and causing problems for traffic.  His walk way forms a lake that fills the entire intersection.  There is no way to cross the street except on his little walk way.   Bur often a car will park across the walk, making it impossible to cross the street.   I feel sorry for the guy who has his stand for making churros on the corner.  He now has to stand in the water while frying them.  Churros are deep fried dough in lard covered in sugar and cinnamon.  (not a calorie in a carload)  They are sort of like long skinny donuts  Did the priest do it to keep his robe clean and dry?  He does nothing for the poor and homeless.  I am sure he hates all non Catholics, and atheists (like myself) but he does love that church.  Besides his new walk way he has added huge slabs or marble flooring and fourteen new stain glass windows depicting Christ and various saints.  Besides Christ on the front of the church the side window facing me is Saint Veronica (who in the Hell was she? or maybe who in Heaven is she?)

All winter the river continue to dry up leaving just a trickle of water.  The rains start in the mountains so the river began to rise long before the storm hit here.  It turns a mild chocolate color with all the mud from the mountains.  Where the river meets the sea there is a huge brown cloud.  I always go way south when I go to the beach to avoid the river and all the drainage ditches.  I never go in the water anyway, but I have been warned against it during the rainy season.  It isn't just mud that flows into the sea, but all the garbage and debris in the streets washes straight out to sea,  It almost exclusively rains at night, so in the morning the streets are almost dry (well except for the lake created by the priest)  So I can go to the gym, or do my shopping and not worry about the rain.  I do not go out in a down pour.  I am not afraid of getting wet, but crossing the cobble stone streets is hazardous when dry, let along under several inches or water.

I love the rain for many reasons.  The most obvious is that I do not have to water all of my 36 potted plants, but it also washes down my deck.  During the long dry winter I hose the deck down twice a week at least and every Tuesday (when the taco stand is closed)  I hose the balcony.  My water bill during the winter exceeds my electric bill.  One of the nicest things is that it cuts down on the dust.  All winter a black dust covers everything.   One would think I lived next to a coal mine.  I am not sure if it is the exhaust from the cars, trucks, and buses, or from chewed up tires from driving on cobble stones and pot holes.  But now there is very little of it and I love that.  Best of all is sitting up under my cabana and watch the water pour off my asbestos roof.  Yes, it is asbestos.  One day a visitor reached up and touched it and screamed,  "My God, it is asbestos!"  I replied,  "Well try to resist your urge to lick it"  I can sit there while the rain falls like a water fall and see my beautiful garden and then the wonderful light and sound show.  Sometimes the lightning comes so fast it looks like strobe lights.  Occasionally the lightning is so close I can hear the crack immediately followed by a huge thunder clap.  What fun!

Kitty is  not so found of the rain.  She comes in screaming looking up at my with those big blue eyes She seems to think I can turn it off.  Oddly, the thunder and lightning do not bother her at all.  She will be curled up asleep and not even open one eye ball.  She just does not like to get wet. I used to lock her up on the terrace where she is safe and dry with nice cushioned chairs to sleep in.   She is not so fond of that anymore for she can no longer get off my terrace.  She used to cross to the neighbors terrace and go down their outside staircase to the balcony railing which wraps around the corner.  But I have a new neighbor with a huge dog.  He looks like a wolf and barks with his elbows on the railing.  Kitty is fierce, but no match for that dog.  I intend to drop a few hints to our landlord.  He is a sweet dog, but I think they must chain him on the roof sometimes.  I can hear him howling.  Why would he be up there, if he could get under cover?  The place is a pig sty as well.  I have made a bed for kitty with some of my old sweaty T shirts, but she will have nothing to do with it.  Kitty wants to be where ever she wants to be and to Hell with what I want.  One night I could not get her to go down stairs.  I kept coaxing her with opening and closing the door.  She just played with the door putting her paws under it.  I finally gave up and left her there.  The next morning I opened the patio door and then went down to fix her breakfast.  She did not appear.  I went back up and heard her mewing but could not see her.  I thought maybe she was on the roof, or at the neighbors, but the sound was coming from the floor.  I found her trapped under an equipali chair.  They are very heavy.  How in the world could she lift one and get under it?  I still have no explanation.

If this story sounds familiar to you, you would be correct.  It was not until I had almost finish it that I had the same impression.  Sure enough I wrote a story about the rain about one year ago.  Well, what can I tell you.  I am very old and we intend to repeat ourselves.   Besides I was not going to let all my work be wasted and I have nothing else to write about.  So here it is.  Enjoy!


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