If you are wondering why it has taken me so long to write another blog, it isn't because I am lazy (which I am) or because I am out of ideas (which is also true). It is because my Internet has not been working except a few hours in the middle of the night or early in the morning. When the company was called, they said, "we are working on it" In Mexico that translates to "we do not have a clue". This has been going on for almost a month. It is Mexico!!
When you enter Mexico, you are given a six month visa. With a FM3 card, you are considered a legal resident and can stay as long as you want. Since I planned on returning every 4 or 5 months for doctors, etc. I did not see the need for one. Then I began to hear more reasons to apply. You cannot open a bank account here without an FM3 (I have yet to decide if I need an account here). As a senior you can use the card to apply for a discount on buses and Mexican Airlines. Then I heard that within the first six months you can bring a whole household down here with no duty. I do have "stuff I would like to have shipped down here, so after a friend of mine got his card, I decided to apply.
He paid a lawyer 1,800 pesos, plus fees to handle it for him. My apartment manager said they had a lawyer who would handle it for 1,500. Then a new friend told me that I could do it on my own and he would take me to the immigration office, and walk me through it. How could I resist?
Part One was easy. I waited only about 20 minutes for the "downstairs" lady" to go over my paper work. I was told that among other items, I needed to copy every page of my passport. The first thing she did was to rip off the first two pages and throw the rest away. She gave me a form that had to be filled out in Spanish, told me a needed a "request letter' and gave me a bill of about $40.00. You can't pay her, but must find a bank (about a half mile away), pay the bank and get a receipt, then make two copies of the receipt. My friend then took me to a woman about a block down the street who filled out the form and printed out the letter for about $2.00. Next the trek to the bank to get the receipt.
Once I had the receipt and the copies made across the street at an Internet cafe, I carried the paper work back to the "downstairs lady" She looked over the paper work and gave me a number and sent me upstairs. My number came up in about 15 minutes. Every paper was stamped with something then he told me to check their web site for when the card was approved in about 10 days.
I found the web site, but of course it was all in Spanish, so I had a friend of mine check it. Within one week, the web site said it was ready. On my own, I managed to find the place and went to see the downstairs lady. I waited for almost an hour for her to check my status and give me another bill that I had to take to the bank. I raced off, but the bank wasn't operating. It was open, but not working (maybe their computers). A man told me to come back in two hours. Since the Immigration place closed at 2:00, I had less than an hour. He directed me down the street to the next bank. I asked how far and he said it was "a couple of blocks" I walked for 15 minutes and no bank. Then I spotted an American walking toward me that looked like he lived here. I asked him. He said the bank in the direction I was headed was about a 30 minute walk, but there was one in the other direction. I told him I was just there and the bank was not working. He told me that there were three banks there. ( I guess the guy was directing me to one of their own branches.) I raced back with less than 30 minutes to go. I found the other bank, got my receipt, got the duplicate and raced back to Immigration. I had 5 minutes to spare, but luckily once you are inside they continue to process you application.
It took about an hour, but I finally got my FM3 card. I am now officially a Mexican resident. I thought
this would make it easier to go in and out of Mexico. No so! Before I leave the country I have to go to an immigration office at the airport and get permission to leave (Nothing is easy in Mexico). Now I must find out what kind of paper work I need to get my "stuff" sent here without paying duty on all of it.
I went back to the same "downstairs lady" and found out that there are forms I must get at the Customs office at the airport. Stay tuned.......
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Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
THEN THE RAINS CAME
In Puerto Vallarta, rain is legendary. I heard tales of thunder and lighting displays that are unbelievable. They have torrential rains that turn the streets into rivers. There are no storm drains here, so the streets carry all the water (and dirt) from the mountains to the sea. I did not know how much was true, but I was looking forward to the "rainy season".
As the summer progressed, the temperatures rose; I began to pray for rain. There had been some rain in the mountains that surround us, but not a drop in the village. Each week, I was told, "It will rain next week" NOTHING!! Then one night just as I was leaving my favorite bar, there was a light sprinkle. It was not a real rain, but it did drop the temperature by about 20 degrees. As soon as I got home, I took off my clothes and headed for the deck where I let the cool mist fall on my naked body. I loved it. Don't get excited, I was wearing my underpants. In the heat and humidity nothing is more comfortable than underwear. After the "snow birds" across the street went back to wherever they came from, my deck is really private. No sane person would ever want to look at my naked body anyway.
But then the sun came out and the humidity went up. For the next week or so we had a few light mists, but not real rain. Then one night after "happy hour" I was headed for a little (cheap) side walk cafe around the corner. Then it really began to pour. I was under a little awning while I ate, so I was fine. After paying my bill, I still had a full glass of beer (in a plastic cup) so I decided to walk home in the rain and finish my beer on the way. Drinking in public is not only NOT against the law, it is a tradition here. The rain felt good, but my sandals got soaked crossing the streets. It rained all night long.
The next day, I ventured out anxious to see what the rain had done. The trees and plants were washing clean and looked wonderful. The sidewalks and streets were another thing. There were mud puddles everywhere. It takes about a month of rain to wash everything down (there is a lot of dirt here). It has rained some almost every day, mostly at night.
Then one night I was awakened by a clap of thunder so loud it sounded like a bomb had gone off. The lightning was so frequent it looked as if the street was being lit by strobe lights. I went up to the deck. The drain spouts were shooting water 3 or 4 feet into the street. I love the sound of rain on a roof (as most people do). But my building (which has a tile roof) is surrounded by commercial buildings with corrugated aluminum roofs. You can not imagine the sound of several inches of rain an hour on all those tin roofs. It sounded like the opening act of a Cirque de Soleil. It rained all night and in the morning the trees on the mountains seemed to have greened up overnight (maybe it was just that the dirt was washed off)
The rain has continued for over a month, some of them fierce, but we have not had the 10 to 12 hours of rain that put the streets under two feet of water. We'll have to wait and see if the tales are true.
******
As the summer progressed, the temperatures rose; I began to pray for rain. There had been some rain in the mountains that surround us, but not a drop in the village. Each week, I was told, "It will rain next week" NOTHING!! Then one night just as I was leaving my favorite bar, there was a light sprinkle. It was not a real rain, but it did drop the temperature by about 20 degrees. As soon as I got home, I took off my clothes and headed for the deck where I let the cool mist fall on my naked body. I loved it. Don't get excited, I was wearing my underpants. In the heat and humidity nothing is more comfortable than underwear. After the "snow birds" across the street went back to wherever they came from, my deck is really private. No sane person would ever want to look at my naked body anyway.
But then the sun came out and the humidity went up. For the next week or so we had a few light mists, but not real rain. Then one night after "happy hour" I was headed for a little (cheap) side walk cafe around the corner. Then it really began to pour. I was under a little awning while I ate, so I was fine. After paying my bill, I still had a full glass of beer (in a plastic cup) so I decided to walk home in the rain and finish my beer on the way. Drinking in public is not only NOT against the law, it is a tradition here. The rain felt good, but my sandals got soaked crossing the streets. It rained all night long.
The next day, I ventured out anxious to see what the rain had done. The trees and plants were washing clean and looked wonderful. The sidewalks and streets were another thing. There were mud puddles everywhere. It takes about a month of rain to wash everything down (there is a lot of dirt here). It has rained some almost every day, mostly at night.
Then one night I was awakened by a clap of thunder so loud it sounded like a bomb had gone off. The lightning was so frequent it looked as if the street was being lit by strobe lights. I went up to the deck. The drain spouts were shooting water 3 or 4 feet into the street. I love the sound of rain on a roof (as most people do). But my building (which has a tile roof) is surrounded by commercial buildings with corrugated aluminum roofs. You can not imagine the sound of several inches of rain an hour on all those tin roofs. It sounded like the opening act of a Cirque de Soleil. It rained all night and in the morning the trees on the mountains seemed to have greened up overnight (maybe it was just that the dirt was washed off)
The rain has continued for over a month, some of them fierce, but we have not had the 10 to 12 hours of rain that put the streets under two feet of water. We'll have to wait and see if the tales are true.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
TIA JOSEPHINA
She is not really Tis Josephina, nor is she even Josephine, but just plain Jo. Yet there is nothing plain about this remarkable woman. She is, in fact, the most extraordinary woman I have ever known. Not just because she has survived in such good shape for 100 years, and not because she was (and still it) a great beauty. She is also one of the brightest people you will meet. She still handles all of her own finances and investment (and does extremely well at it). She follows fashion (Vogue, etc) politics, and all news.
She is also one of the kindest woman (the staff at her "home" all love her). She has been a surrogate mother to me since my own mother died almost 50 years ago. I think my favorite of her many traits is her quick wit and a bawdy sense of humor. Now, about her family.
She only had one son (who is in much worse shape than she is), three grandsons, two great grandchildren, and three great, great grandchildren. All but one attended the party, along with their wives and significant others. Like many large families, there are some feuds (some had not spoken to each other in many years) yet all seemed to gather around for her celebration. Also attending were her younger (now deceased) sister's two children. One I had not seen in 55 years. Her niece (my cousin) seems to be the only one in the family to have inherited her genes. I know she is close to my age, but she looks barely 45 or 50.
The highlight of the day was a slide show prepared by her youngest grandson. It started with photos of my grandfather as a child, and when he was on the KU football team in 1896. There were photos all through her long life including a lot of photos when she was modeling. After leaving modeling, she became the top Realtor in her area, outselling every other Realtor. I was delighted to see that the show also included my favorite photo of Serge. It must have been a lot of work putting it all together and he deserves a great deal of credit for it.
We were all worried about her over tiring herself, so shortly after the slide show and cake, she was escorted back to her room. She later said, that it ended much too soon and she was left with a "where did every body go?) We assume she rested up for the party, but she really wanted it to go on for several more hours.
I have included a picture of her portrait that hangs in my bedroom in Mexico (how it wound up there is too long a story). Then a photo I took at her party. Yes, she does look older, but there is almost 50 years between the two pictures. She is totally recognizable while my passport photo from just 20 years ago looks like another person.
********
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
SPANISH CLASS
All along I knew that I would have to learn some Spanish. After some inquiring, I was told about some Language Schools and some suggested a private tutor (too expensive and I wanted the interaction of a class). There are a lot of schools here (mostly teaching English) but none are near me and I was afraid that the classes would be in the evening and thus interfere with my "cocktail hour".
Then my martini swilling drinking buddies told me that they were taking a class at a small social club just two blocks from my apartment. I stopped by, for I pass it on my way to the gym to inquire about the classes. I was told that the ongoing classes were advanced and that I should wait for a beginner's class to begin. When would this occur? They were not sure, maybe 4 to 6 weeks depending on how many people signed up. I gave them my name, number and address and asked them to let me know. I tried talking to my friend who has lived here for two years. In spite of the fact that he knows almost no Spanish, and can't even pronounce the name of the streets, he had no interest.
I noticed that the club had posted some signs advertising the new Spanish class and assumed they were still trying to get more people interested. I intended to stop by periodically, then a little more than a week after my first visit, I noticed one of the posters had fallen on the sidewalk. I took it inside only to discover that indeed classes were starting the following day. Why didn't someone call me? You get the Mexican shrug.
I did make it a little before ten the following morning, barely conscious. The previous night had been the night of the exploding church with all the fire works. After the nine bells finally stopped I had a glass of wine (or maybe two) to calm my nerves so I could get back to sleep. So, I was not too disappointed when we were told that the instructor could not make it and classes would start the following day at 9:30. Why didn't someone call me? Mexican shrug. There was only one other woman there and she was quite upset for she had Pilate's class the following morning.
I was there early and eager and found there was only one other guy there (the Pilate's woman never showed up again). We started with pronunciation. It seems that Spanish has a lot of double vowels and each are to be pronounced. Unlike French, every letter is to be pronounced, which makes it a little easier. We progressed to vocabulary, adjectives, and one verb. I was happy there were only two of us for we got the maximum of attention, but I did mention the class to another friend. He started the next day. At first I thought I had made a mistake for the two of them had lived here for years and knew a lot of Spanish, I knew none. So, I had to study twice as hard to keep and and in the long run it helped me.
A local bar has started a "conversation class" for its clients. It seemed like a good idea, but I did not get much out of the first meeting (maybe because I consumed four beers). To be honest, I have as much trouble understanding the instructors English, let alone his Spanish. But people do converse and if I sit there long enough (and cut down on the alcohol) I hope to pick up something.
I am proud to say that I have graduated from beginning class and will begin the advanced. That does frighten me a little for that group has been studying together since January. I have had to learn hundreds of words and although I can only speak in the present tense, I do get by. In fact I have finally (after almost 6 months) managed to get bottled water delivered on my own. For some reason I never had any problem getting alcohol (ODD).
A NOTE TO MY READERS:
I will be taking the rest of the summer off. Frankly I am running out of topics and I am not as funny as I used to be (as evidnced by the drop off in my readership) I will be attending my aunt's 100th birthday in July and will be back in California in October to prepare for my trip to Turkey. So I not sure when I resume my blogs. Of course, I might come back sooner by "popular demand" if more or you wrote to tell me you miss me. Until then, "Hasta Luego"
Then my martini swilling drinking buddies told me that they were taking a class at a small social club just two blocks from my apartment. I stopped by, for I pass it on my way to the gym to inquire about the classes. I was told that the ongoing classes were advanced and that I should wait for a beginner's class to begin. When would this occur? They were not sure, maybe 4 to 6 weeks depending on how many people signed up. I gave them my name, number and address and asked them to let me know. I tried talking to my friend who has lived here for two years. In spite of the fact that he knows almost no Spanish, and can't even pronounce the name of the streets, he had no interest.
I noticed that the club had posted some signs advertising the new Spanish class and assumed they were still trying to get more people interested. I intended to stop by periodically, then a little more than a week after my first visit, I noticed one of the posters had fallen on the sidewalk. I took it inside only to discover that indeed classes were starting the following day. Why didn't someone call me? You get the Mexican shrug.
I did make it a little before ten the following morning, barely conscious. The previous night had been the night of the exploding church with all the fire works. After the nine bells finally stopped I had a glass of wine (or maybe two) to calm my nerves so I could get back to sleep. So, I was not too disappointed when we were told that the instructor could not make it and classes would start the following day at 9:30. Why didn't someone call me? Mexican shrug. There was only one other woman there and she was quite upset for she had Pilate's class the following morning.
I was there early and eager and found there was only one other guy there (the Pilate's woman never showed up again). We started with pronunciation. It seems that Spanish has a lot of double vowels and each are to be pronounced. Unlike French, every letter is to be pronounced, which makes it a little easier. We progressed to vocabulary, adjectives, and one verb. I was happy there were only two of us for we got the maximum of attention, but I did mention the class to another friend. He started the next day. At first I thought I had made a mistake for the two of them had lived here for years and knew a lot of Spanish, I knew none. So, I had to study twice as hard to keep and and in the long run it helped me.
A local bar has started a "conversation class" for its clients. It seemed like a good idea, but I did not get much out of the first meeting (maybe because I consumed four beers). To be honest, I have as much trouble understanding the instructors English, let alone his Spanish. But people do converse and if I sit there long enough (and cut down on the alcohol) I hope to pick up something.
I am proud to say that I have graduated from beginning class and will begin the advanced. That does frighten me a little for that group has been studying together since January. I have had to learn hundreds of words and although I can only speak in the present tense, I do get by. In fact I have finally (after almost 6 months) managed to get bottled water delivered on my own. For some reason I never had any problem getting alcohol (ODD).
A NOTE TO MY READERS:
I will be taking the rest of the summer off. Frankly I am running out of topics and I am not as funny as I used to be (as evidnced by the drop off in my readership) I will be attending my aunt's 100th birthday in July and will be back in California in October to prepare for my trip to Turkey. So I not sure when I resume my blogs. Of course, I might come back sooner by "popular demand" if more or you wrote to tell me you miss me. Until then, "Hasta Luego"
Sunday, May 22, 2011
ON DRINKING
Not long after I arrived here, a friend wrote and asked me if "drinking" was a part of the culture in Mexico. I answered with a resounding YES!! Since then I have learned just how much.
One can assume that the natives in Mexico had alcohol long before the Spanish arrived with their wine. Tequila and Raicilla are both made from a regional cactus. So getting drunk here goes way back. There doesn't appear to be any laws about drinking. It is quite common to see men (never women; they drink at home) walking down the street with a plastic cup of beer, or a whole bottle. You also see people in cars with bottles or cans of beer, including the driver. The Mexicans love to party and booze is a big part of their parties. One morning I saw hundreds of bottles strewn all over Plaza Cardenas left over from some other festivity that I also missed.
The Malecon is just one long line of bars where the tourists get loaded. Every street in Puerto Vallarta has four of five bars and most corners have a tiny grocery store that sells liquor. Occasionally you will see some guy passed out on the sidewalk. He isn't really homeless, he just could not make it home.
The ex patriots who live here full time, or just spend the winters here have taken up the culture of drinking with abandon. In the Zona Romantica where I live there are "neighborhood' bars and everyone has their favorite, but pub crawls are also the norm. The most popular is Apache's. Unlike most bars, they do not open until 5:00. During the height of the season, if you want a seat outside, you had better arrive at 4:00 when they start putting out the tables and chairs. Well we really don't have anything to do, so people congregate in the afternoons at bars. Now you understand why I try to occupy my time with Spanish, the gym, and adopting parks.
Each bar has their "happy hour" when drinks are cheaper. Some places like Apache's offer "two for one" which means if you slip over to the third drink, you are stuck for a fourth (it is free, right?) Yes, I must admit many nights I have staggered home after four Margaritas. But compare to some people here who will drink all day and into the night, I look like a teetotaler.
There are also night clubs and discos that don't even open until 10:00 at night. I have never been to one, but I am told that they don't really get busy until after midnight and you can drink until dawn. Luckily it is cheap to drink here, especially during "happy hour" when a bottle of beer is about $1.00 and a blended strawberry margarita can be had for as little as $2.50. Apache"s is a little more up scale, but at two for one, you can still get pretty drunk for not much money.
I don't want to leave you with the impression that I am a total souse that you will one day find lying on the sidewalk, or curled up in some door way. For one thing, I never drink far from home. I don't start drinking until about 5:00 when Happy Hour starts (unless, of course I am at the beach). I usually leave by the end of Happy Hour (about 7:00). I may have a glass or two of white wine when I do get home, but HEY I am already home. Also, maybe you can understand why these Blogs don't always get out on time.
One can assume that the natives in Mexico had alcohol long before the Spanish arrived with their wine. Tequila and Raicilla are both made from a regional cactus. So getting drunk here goes way back. There doesn't appear to be any laws about drinking. It is quite common to see men (never women; they drink at home) walking down the street with a plastic cup of beer, or a whole bottle. You also see people in cars with bottles or cans of beer, including the driver. The Mexicans love to party and booze is a big part of their parties. One morning I saw hundreds of bottles strewn all over Plaza Cardenas left over from some other festivity that I also missed.
The Malecon is just one long line of bars where the tourists get loaded. Every street in Puerto Vallarta has four of five bars and most corners have a tiny grocery store that sells liquor. Occasionally you will see some guy passed out on the sidewalk. He isn't really homeless, he just could not make it home.
The ex patriots who live here full time, or just spend the winters here have taken up the culture of drinking with abandon. In the Zona Romantica where I live there are "neighborhood' bars and everyone has their favorite, but pub crawls are also the norm. The most popular is Apache's. Unlike most bars, they do not open until 5:00. During the height of the season, if you want a seat outside, you had better arrive at 4:00 when they start putting out the tables and chairs. Well we really don't have anything to do, so people congregate in the afternoons at bars. Now you understand why I try to occupy my time with Spanish, the gym, and adopting parks.
Each bar has their "happy hour" when drinks are cheaper. Some places like Apache's offer "two for one" which means if you slip over to the third drink, you are stuck for a fourth (it is free, right?) Yes, I must admit many nights I have staggered home after four Margaritas. But compare to some people here who will drink all day and into the night, I look like a teetotaler.
There are also night clubs and discos that don't even open until 10:00 at night. I have never been to one, but I am told that they don't really get busy until after midnight and you can drink until dawn. Luckily it is cheap to drink here, especially during "happy hour" when a bottle of beer is about $1.00 and a blended strawberry margarita can be had for as little as $2.50. Apache"s is a little more up scale, but at two for one, you can still get pretty drunk for not much money.
I don't want to leave you with the impression that I am a total souse that you will one day find lying on the sidewalk, or curled up in some door way. For one thing, I never drink far from home. I don't start drinking until about 5:00 when Happy Hour starts (unless, of course I am at the beach). I usually leave by the end of Happy Hour (about 7:00). I may have a glass or two of white wine when I do get home, but HEY I am already home. Also, maybe you can understand why these Blogs don't always get out on time.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
PLAZA CARDENAS
Three short blocks away, my street runs into a large plaza. It is the largest plaza this side of the river, but I had never paid much attention to it until my coffee shop reopened on the square. It always reminded me of a small Pershing Square because of the underground parking garage. Nothing of any note surrounds the square.. It is where I saw the dance group led by the drag queen and where I saw the body of Christ being led up the street. All of which I would have missed had I not been at my coffee shop.
A friend of mine who was visiting told me it used to be one of the most beautiful parks in Puerto Vallarta. There were lots of trees and lush tropical plants. Now it is mostly concrete with some planters. Like all squares in Mexico there is a large gazebo and at one end is a small amphitheater. Fortunately they managed to save the large trees from the old park, and I guess the large statue of Mr. Cardenas ( I have to assume that for their is no plaque on it) The planters have grass and small shrubs now. But the grass is dead and many of the small palms and shrubs are dying.
About five years ago, someone came up with the "brilliant" idea of putting a garage under it, so the old park was dug up. Never mind that Mexicans won't pay for parking and most gringos either walk or take cabs. The parking lot is almost always totally empty. The one good idea they had was to put in public bathrooms; something this town could use judging from the smell of the side walks. But alas the entrance to the bath rooms is locked. You can see the signs giving you the times of day it is open, but you may not be able to see the padlock on the gate. I have never seen it open.
Then someone (maybe the same someone) came up with another "brilliant" idea., Lets build a huge building with commercial and residential to create a need for parking. So there is this enormous building that takes up the entire block facing the plaza and rising over eight stories high. It too is completely empty. You can see the condos with balconies that would either over look the park, of from the higher floors the ocean; none are occupied. The story I heard is that the builder used beach sand in the concrete to save money and as a result the salt is already eroding the concrete. The City says, it must be torn down to the ground. Someone did not pay off the right person.
Whoever built that enormous structure must have lost a fortune, the garage makes no money for it is always empty, so no one will pay to water the park. They city says it is the responsibility of the garage and the garage refuses. So, the plants continue to die.
Then I came up with my own "brilliant" idea. For some time I have thought of volunteering for some kind of charity work. Something to fill my time between going to the beach, the gym, Spanish class, shopping, and of course my "pub crawls". But I can't stand being around old people (they are much too cranky); children make me nervous, and I faint at the sight of a needle. I do love animals, but the shelter is clear across town and I see enough dog poop on the side walks. I have no real skills or talent (which made finding a job pretty iffy as well), so what could I do. Then it came to me, I will adopt a park!!
One thing I am good at is watering, but where would I get the water. I can't even get bottled water delivered to my apartment, how could I come up with enough water for a park? Then, I thought I will start my own charity to "Save the Park" The regulars from my coffee shop when it was on Olas Altos certainly looked wealthy and when they find out that it is now located on this square I am sure they would be sympathetic. But they all flew North (along with my hummingbirds) and won't be back until November or December. Of course the rainy season will occur before they get back here. The truth is I am basically lazy, so, I have decided just to pray for an early rain.
About five years ago, someone came up with the "brilliant" idea of putting a garage under it, so the old park was dug up. Never mind that Mexicans won't pay for parking and most gringos either walk or take cabs. The parking lot is almost always totally empty. The one good idea they had was to put in public bathrooms; something this town could use judging from the smell of the side walks. But alas the entrance to the bath rooms is locked. You can see the signs giving you the times of day it is open, but you may not be able to see the padlock on the gate. I have never seen it open.
Then someone (maybe the same someone) came up with another "brilliant" idea., Lets build a huge building with commercial and residential to create a need for parking. So there is this enormous building that takes up the entire block facing the plaza and rising over eight stories high. It too is completely empty. You can see the condos with balconies that would either over look the park, of from the higher floors the ocean; none are occupied. The story I heard is that the builder used beach sand in the concrete to save money and as a result the salt is already eroding the concrete. The City says, it must be torn down to the ground. Someone did not pay off the right person.
Whoever built that enormous structure must have lost a fortune, the garage makes no money for it is always empty, so no one will pay to water the park. They city says it is the responsibility of the garage and the garage refuses. So, the plants continue to die.
Then I came up with my own "brilliant" idea. For some time I have thought of volunteering for some kind of charity work. Something to fill my time between going to the beach, the gym, Spanish class, shopping, and of course my "pub crawls". But I can't stand being around old people (they are much too cranky); children make me nervous, and I faint at the sight of a needle. I do love animals, but the shelter is clear across town and I see enough dog poop on the side walks. I have no real skills or talent (which made finding a job pretty iffy as well), so what could I do. Then it came to me, I will adopt a park!!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
LOOSE ENDS
After more than twenty posts (I am as surprised as you are) it seemed like a good idea to go back over some of the Blogs that left some questioned unanswered.
While I still enjoy my little apartment, I have decided to move when the lease is up in December. I want a quieter street and something more suitable for guests. I have had one guest and it worked out fine except for the sofa bed (which is a hassle to move and open) and the noise on the street was almost more than my friend could stand. I am looking at some of the dead end streets off B. Badillo (but that will wait a few months). Since I quit spending money buying stuff for my apartment I have managed to live within my budget.
The plants are all thriving (those that I didn't kill). The hibiscus is amazing with blooms over 10 inches across. The yellow vine finally started along the trellis and had covered it almost completely from one end to the other. Then one day while trimming back the mint I cut one vine off at the root (I was very unhappy with myself ,and NO I was not drunk.)
The clock on the bell tower has been started and restarted half a dozen times. It runs for a few days, but has said 8:15 for over a month. The bells still drive me crazy. I guess during weddings they ring all nine of them at once. Explosions (gun, fire crackers ??) are more frequent and oddly enough are almost always followed by the bells. More of this later..
The baby "iguanas" turned out to be geckos. They never got much bigger and remained the same ugly grey pink. I now have a whole family of them up there pooping on the wall. Now, I think they may be coming inside at night for I have found what look like "droppings". I no longer leave a light on for them to catch bugs, I would really like to get rid of them. Since I live in a cage with no solid doors, dirt and dust freely flow in and also critters can freely come and go. (But I don't want to think about that or I will go crazy). Within one week the dozens of hummingbirds went down to two or three (maybe they fly north from here). The feeder began to leak honey all over the deck so I took it down. Next winter I will try again.
I thought I had the buses down to a science then got on the wrong bus on my way to pick up my money from Telecable (Yes, it took four months and dozens of calls and visits, but I did finally get it). Half way there I looked out and did not recognize anything. I realized I was on a different street so the only thing I could think to do was to wait until I recognized something. It was the Sheraton Hotel. I got off and started walking inland hoping to find a street or something I knew. Finally a No. 3 bus came by that said "El Centro" I thought it would take me back home, but it was headed in the opposite direction. After four buses and two and a half hours I got to Telecable to collect my money.
Regular bottled water delivery still eludes me. I have had maybe a dozen one time deliveries. Each time I tip them more than the cost of the water and ask them to return next week. NOTHING!! Even the manager of my building is baffled. One explanation might be that the leather goods store hangs a leather poncho over my street number, but that would not explain how they deliver the first time. .
Of all the day trips, Boca remains my favorite. (It was also the cheapest and the closest) but I intend to seek out more new places to visit. The gym is going quite well. The "smiling Adonis" (whose name turns out to be David) has spent hours teaching me new exercises. Last week he said that next we would work on my legs. I looked at him and said, "My legs are the only good muscles I have got. Do these look like 74 year old legs to you?" He laughed. The truth is I hate leg exercises (but I do have good looking legs). I have just started my Spanish class (it may be my next blog).
I still go to the beach, but only about once a week. I fear it may get too hot for me as summer approaches. My fans run all day and night and I can't sleep with out air conditioning and it is only May!! What will August be like? I still enjoy it here, everyday is a new adventure. I also solved another mystery. Every evening a boy in green pants runs down the street banging on a gong. He is announcing the arrival of the trash truck, so you had better bring your garbage to the designated corner. It is a primitive system, but it works. Kind of like Mexico.
It is still difficult crossing the "pot holed" cobble stone streets with out being hit by a truck or bus. The urine soaked sidewalks are still an offense, but the new sidewalk on B. Badillo turned out very nice. There are now four blocks of new wide sidewalks and planters. Some of the small plants have disappeared (I think they are stolen) but the trees are all doing well. In a few years it should look beautiful, but unfortunately the Mexicans have yet to figure out underground utilities.
Mexican love to celebrate as much as they love noise. Most remain a mystery to me like the one this week. I was awakened about 11:00 at night by a series of whistling fireworks and cherry bombs. It went on for a half an hour. The street in front of the church looked like a bonfire was going on. It ended with several blasts of what appeared to be shot gun blasts into the sky, followed by all 9 bells ringing. The street between me and the church has been closed all week to accommodate a traveling carnival of kids rides. It has to have some sort of religious connotation, but I am not sure. David (at the gym) said he thought it might be a celebration for the parton saint of that church. It occurred on May 3rd, so it had nothing to do with Cinco de Mayo (Unless their calendar is as goofy as their clock). Nothing happened on the 5th of May.
We also just had Labor Day. Just as in the U.S. it is to commemorate the plight of the working class and all banks, federal buildings, schools, and most shops close for the day. Only this year it occurred on a Sunday when they are closed anyway, so I don't know who it benefits unless they let the priests go home early. Most of Mexico remains a mystery to me. Ya gotta love her, like a lover, warts and all.
NOTE TO MY READERS: In my Easter Week blog I only made a brief reference to the dance group that was led by a drag queen. An organization sponsoring Puerto Vallarta as a safe and fun place to visit have released a video of the performance that I watched. I think you will find it very entertaining. Check it out at http://dai.ly/k2IQHD.
While I still enjoy my little apartment, I have decided to move when the lease is up in December. I want a quieter street and something more suitable for guests. I have had one guest and it worked out fine except for the sofa bed (which is a hassle to move and open) and the noise on the street was almost more than my friend could stand. I am looking at some of the dead end streets off B. Badillo (but that will wait a few months). Since I quit spending money buying stuff for my apartment I have managed to live within my budget.
The plants are all thriving (those that I didn't kill). The hibiscus is amazing with blooms over 10 inches across. The yellow vine finally started along the trellis and had covered it almost completely from one end to the other. Then one day while trimming back the mint I cut one vine off at the root (I was very unhappy with myself ,and NO I was not drunk.)
The clock on the bell tower has been started and restarted half a dozen times. It runs for a few days, but has said 8:15 for over a month. The bells still drive me crazy. I guess during weddings they ring all nine of them at once. Explosions (gun, fire crackers ??) are more frequent and oddly enough are almost always followed by the bells. More of this later..
The baby "iguanas" turned out to be geckos. They never got much bigger and remained the same ugly grey pink. I now have a whole family of them up there pooping on the wall. Now, I think they may be coming inside at night for I have found what look like "droppings". I no longer leave a light on for them to catch bugs, I would really like to get rid of them. Since I live in a cage with no solid doors, dirt and dust freely flow in and also critters can freely come and go. (But I don't want to think about that or I will go crazy). Within one week the dozens of hummingbirds went down to two or three (maybe they fly north from here). The feeder began to leak honey all over the deck so I took it down. Next winter I will try again.
I thought I had the buses down to a science then got on the wrong bus on my way to pick up my money from Telecable (Yes, it took four months and dozens of calls and visits, but I did finally get it). Half way there I looked out and did not recognize anything. I realized I was on a different street so the only thing I could think to do was to wait until I recognized something. It was the Sheraton Hotel. I got off and started walking inland hoping to find a street or something I knew. Finally a No. 3 bus came by that said "El Centro" I thought it would take me back home, but it was headed in the opposite direction. After four buses and two and a half hours I got to Telecable to collect my money.
Of all the day trips, Boca remains my favorite. (It was also the cheapest and the closest) but I intend to seek out more new places to visit. The gym is going quite well. The "smiling Adonis" (whose name turns out to be David) has spent hours teaching me new exercises. Last week he said that next we would work on my legs. I looked at him and said, "My legs are the only good muscles I have got. Do these look like 74 year old legs to you?" He laughed. The truth is I hate leg exercises (but I do have good looking legs). I have just started my Spanish class (it may be my next blog).
I still go to the beach, but only about once a week. I fear it may get too hot for me as summer approaches. My fans run all day and night and I can't sleep with out air conditioning and it is only May!! What will August be like? I still enjoy it here, everyday is a new adventure. I also solved another mystery. Every evening a boy in green pants runs down the street banging on a gong. He is announcing the arrival of the trash truck, so you had better bring your garbage to the designated corner. It is a primitive system, but it works. Kind of like Mexico.
It is still difficult crossing the "pot holed" cobble stone streets with out being hit by a truck or bus. The urine soaked sidewalks are still an offense, but the new sidewalk on B. Badillo turned out very nice. There are now four blocks of new wide sidewalks and planters. Some of the small plants have disappeared (I think they are stolen) but the trees are all doing well. In a few years it should look beautiful, but unfortunately the Mexicans have yet to figure out underground utilities.
Mexican love to celebrate as much as they love noise. Most remain a mystery to me like the one this week. I was awakened about 11:00 at night by a series of whistling fireworks and cherry bombs. It went on for a half an hour. The street in front of the church looked like a bonfire was going on. It ended with several blasts of what appeared to be shot gun blasts into the sky, followed by all 9 bells ringing. The street between me and the church has been closed all week to accommodate a traveling carnival of kids rides. It has to have some sort of religious connotation, but I am not sure. David (at the gym) said he thought it might be a celebration for the parton saint of that church. It occurred on May 3rd, so it had nothing to do with Cinco de Mayo (Unless their calendar is as goofy as their clock). Nothing happened on the 5th of May.
We also just had Labor Day. Just as in the U.S. it is to commemorate the plight of the working class and all banks, federal buildings, schools, and most shops close for the day. Only this year it occurred on a Sunday when they are closed anyway, so I don't know who it benefits unless they let the priests go home early. Most of Mexico remains a mystery to me. Ya gotta love her, like a lover, warts and all.
NOTE TO MY READERS: In my Easter Week blog I only made a brief reference to the dance group that was led by a drag queen. An organization sponsoring Puerto Vallarta as a safe and fun place to visit have released a video of the performance that I watched. I think you will find it very entertaining. Check it out at http://dai.ly/k2IQHD.
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