The first question people ask of me when they hear (to their horror) that I actually live full time in Mexico is,
"What do you do about medical problems?" You may be surprised to hear my answer, "It is wonderful. but the problem is you have to pay for it yourself". Luckily it is cheap compared to the United States (all medicine is cheap compared to the United States!). Without divulging much about my personal life (you may have noted that I do not!), I will say that I have had the occasion to visit a hospital here a couple of times.
Let me begin by talking about the Mexicans or Nationals as they are called here. For the most part, they do not trust doctors or hospitals and if possible, will self mediate. There may even be witch doctors or shamans here. You can't go two blocks in Puerto Vallarta without passing some sort of pharmacy. There are three kinds. We have the ones that dispense prescriptions drugs (with no prescriptions necessary), and the Farmacias Similares that sell sort of unauthorized generic drugs or maybe just similar in chemical compounds but produced in kitchens. They are much cheaper. You can buy a Viagra like pill for about $2.00 (or so I have been told, I really would not know!) Most popular with the Nationals are the homeopathic pharmacies. They sell herbs, lotions and concoctions that have been used here for centuries (maybe even thousands of years). Although most of my Mexican friends swear by them, I have so far stuck to the drugs I know (and I know a lot of them!).
The doctors are wonderful and all I have met speak perfect English. There is a woman here in Puerto Vallarta by the name of Pamela who disperses medical advice by email. She will answer medical questions or can refer you to a doctor or hospital. She knows every English speaking doctor here and will even make the appointment for you and email you a map to their office. This is of no cost to you. Now she may get a kick back or referral fee from the doctor or hospital, but it is free to us. She has recommended a dermatologist, podiatrist and a heart doctor to me. All were excellent and quite reasonable. I had three skin cancers removed and one had to be cut out and sent to a lab for analysis. I had to go back for the results and to have stitches removed and I think the total bill was about $100.00. I think Pamela may have first sent me to Dr. Lupita at the hospital a few blocks away, but then everyone I know goes to her, so maybe someone else did. She is so good she is authorized or approved by several medical insurance companies in the U.S. (just not by mine = more on that later) She is my regular doctor for "whatever":.
The hospitals are as clean, orderly and neat as any you will find anywhere. In fact my hospital room (yes I did spend a few days there) was as nice as any I have been in. It was a large private room with a large window with a nice view, a T.V., dresser, a few chairs and a large tile bathroom. Nurses were on call in less than a minute and most spoke some English. They were all very kind and extremely accommodating. Of course once I was up and wandering the halls I found that there was only one other patient on my floor.
After my first visit to emergency, I discovered the "Clinicas" They are always next to a small pharmacy. You just walk in to the pharmacy, make an appointment and go next door and sit in a chair until someone comes out and calls you. Sometimes I am the first one there and sometimes there will be six to ten people waiting (I walk on and come back later). My first visit there was when someone told me about the vitamin B shots they got there. Vitamin B is supposed to give you energy and strength and when I was worn out by one of my moves, I stopped by. The shot cost 20 pesos (maybe $1.50). You have to buy the medication and I think a weeks worth of shots might have been $30 or $40.00. Many such medications come already in disposable syringes. At first I thought I needed my FM3 card (or residency card) but since then no one has ever asked for it. I thought that they must be government sponsored, but I was told that they are privately funded. Whatever, it is nice for us "poor people".
Mexican Nationals who is gainfully employed are also covered by a sort of Medicare program (except they have no co-pay). They do have very powerful unions here that promote most of these programs. If the National is not employed (farmers, poor people, etc) they can still get medical help by other government financed clinicls. The medical service is pretty bad there I am told. They have to wait for hours and usually there are no specialist and sometimes they don't have the necessary medication.
You may recall my bad fall a couple of years ago went I was first taken to Emergency ("Fear of Falling"), well I wound back up in emergency last November. I was hospitalized for five days. No surgery and other than pain killers, no costly drugs (that I know of) but I was on an IV. When I was finally told I could go back home, I wondered about the bill. I gave them the information on my insurance in the U.S. Yes, I am definitely old enough for Medicare, but I elected to go with an HMO (with smaller co-pays) They did ask me for a down payment of 20,000 pesos. I never saw the final bill from the hospital, nor did I see one from the two doctors that attended me.
The nice lady who handles payments, was very helpful and rather attractive. His name is Esmarelda (a pretty name too). She contacted my insurance company and at first was told that everything could be handled by email. she said she would take care of it. This turned out not to be true. She called me back into her office for my insurance company was now telling her that they would only deal directly with me. They would not only accept a claim by email, but had forms that they would only mail to my address in the U.S. This took about two weeks. I had Donna pick them up and she had to UPS them to me. This took another week. Esmarelda filled out the forms (with some help from me) and submitted the claim. We were told it would take four to six weeks. They admitted receiving the claim on January 11th and for months there was no action at all. Finally they did contact me to ask for copies of all the tests the hospital had performed (I do not know why the hospital did not send them before). Luckily I had already forwarded them to my primary care doctor in the States. Then they needed proof of the payment I had made so I scanned my bank statement and sent that off.
Nothing happened and no one would return my calls. Finally I got through and found that they had settled it and the checks had been sent to my address in the U.S. I sent Donna off again and she found two checks, but no explanation of how much they allowed nor any mention of the money I had already paid the hospital. I knew how much they sent in dollars, I just did not know what I owed in pesos, so I was off to see Esmarelad again. All this took five months. I was shocked at the bill they expected me to pay. It was far higher than I had expected and much less than what the insurance company sent me. Esmarelda set up a meeting with the hospital administrator. After going over all the charges, the major bill was from the specialist who did finally come to the emergency room and then saw me each day I was in the hospital. His bill was more than I would have expected in the U.S. We went round and round and then I said, " Look, I would like to settle this now, but if you prefer, you can work with my insurance company for another six months" That is when he said that he thought they could settle for the amount the insurance company sent. They does leave me stuck with the 20,000 pesos that I already paid (four months rent for me!)
The "specialist" had way over charged (maybe because I was an American, maybe because I had insurance). He finally agreed to lower the bill somewhat (I will not be gong back to him). Dr. Lupita who stopped by every day to see me never submitted a bill at all. We agreed to an amount in pesos, but it still left me stuck with the 20,000 pesos. Maybe I should have haggled longer, maybe I should have just stone walled them and refused to pay. What could they do to me? Well, maybe a lot since I am a guest in a foreign country. I have to look on the bright side. At least my insurance company did pay most of it.
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Saturday, June 1, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
IT'S A JUNGLE OUT THERE
Behind my building is a block wide vacant lot. There are the remains of what must have been a couple of small brick or adobe houses, but no one lives there except the cats. Many people here complain about the roosters that crow at dawn every morning. If there ever were chickens out there, the cats long ago took care of them. Of course with those G.D. bells, who would notice a rooster. If you ignore all the junk that has been dumped in the lot (including an old truck), all you see is a jungle of trees and vines. Once the summer rains start, it will be much prettier as the rain washes all the dust away. I kind of like it because it means no neighbors. It also affords me a clear view of the mountains. A strange jungle vine crawled up the wall from three stories below that I have trained across the beam on my cabana. It is growing out of a crack in concrete. Since it has not rained since October, I have no idea how it lives at all, but I am hoping it will have some kind of flower on it before it dies.
There are a couple of huge mango trees, a couple of lime trees and some papaya trees as well. Unfortunately the area is completely walled in by ten foot brick walls. so I can't get to the fruit. There are iron gates at each end which would open on to the two streets, but they are always locked. One day I saw two kids somehow wiggle through the wrought iron gates into the property. One climbed the mango tree which must be 40 feet tall and either ;picked and threw down the fruit, or just knocked if off the branches.
It is all owned by the Rizo family who own my building as well as huge blocks of land all over the South Side (south of the River Caule). Rumor has it that they are property poor. They either won't sell, or ask too much money for the land. Some of it may be tied up in legal battles, as my apartment is actually owned by a woman who has been dead for ten years.
You may recall my story of the cat who ate my coffee cake from a few months ago. Now that summer is coming I have started leaving the guest bedroom window open for the cool breezes that waft down from the mountains. Yes, I am occasionally visited by one of the cats. I have not seen him (or her) but I periodically have to clean the dirty paw prints off the wall below the window. I could just close my door and turn on the air conditioning, but I am trying to keep my electric bill low. It has been running about 250 pesos a month (about $20.00) as opposed to the 7,000 bill I got at my previous apartment. Only a small animal could crawl through the wrought iron grill and the cats don't seem to do any damage anyway.
One night I got up to pee. I leave a small night light plugged in so in my sleep (or drunken condition) I don't miss the ten inch step going into my bathroom. I suddenly became aware of something black and large just a few inches from my toe. Slowly I backed up and switched on the lights. There was a hairy spider almost as large as my hand. People have told me that it is not a tarantula, but it is a very scary looking creature. It too must have crawled in through the open window. I carefully removed one sandal and tried to swat it. I could not believe how fast it could climb up the tile wall. Then as I continued to swat at it, I found that it could also jump.
If I hadn't been half asleep, maybe I would have been too cautious to continue going after it. But then on the other hand I do not think I could have slept knowing that thing was crawling around in my apartment. I finally got it, but not before grabbing my camera and getting a picture to it. I also carried in my yard stick to show how big it was. After knocking it down and crunching it again with my sandal, I got some bug spray and finished him off. Oddly, I went right back to sleep, leaving the carcass to be carried out the following morning.
I have previously commented on how surprised I am, at the lack of insects here. Now I know that we not only have iguanas here eating them, but huge spiders as well. Yes, the window is still open Perhaps I like living dangerously. It seems that all my life I have tempted fate, but I am still here!
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There are a couple of huge mango trees, a couple of lime trees and some papaya trees as well. Unfortunately the area is completely walled in by ten foot brick walls. so I can't get to the fruit. There are iron gates at each end which would open on to the two streets, but they are always locked. One day I saw two kids somehow wiggle through the wrought iron gates into the property. One climbed the mango tree which must be 40 feet tall and either ;picked and threw down the fruit, or just knocked if off the branches.
It is all owned by the Rizo family who own my building as well as huge blocks of land all over the South Side (south of the River Caule). Rumor has it that they are property poor. They either won't sell, or ask too much money for the land. Some of it may be tied up in legal battles, as my apartment is actually owned by a woman who has been dead for ten years.
You may recall my story of the cat who ate my coffee cake from a few months ago. Now that summer is coming I have started leaving the guest bedroom window open for the cool breezes that waft down from the mountains. Yes, I am occasionally visited by one of the cats. I have not seen him (or her) but I periodically have to clean the dirty paw prints off the wall below the window. I could just close my door and turn on the air conditioning, but I am trying to keep my electric bill low. It has been running about 250 pesos a month (about $20.00) as opposed to the 7,000 bill I got at my previous apartment. Only a small animal could crawl through the wrought iron grill and the cats don't seem to do any damage anyway.
One night I got up to pee. I leave a small night light plugged in so in my sleep (or drunken condition) I don't miss the ten inch step going into my bathroom. I suddenly became aware of something black and large just a few inches from my toe. Slowly I backed up and switched on the lights. There was a hairy spider almost as large as my hand. People have told me that it is not a tarantula, but it is a very scary looking creature. It too must have crawled in through the open window. I carefully removed one sandal and tried to swat it. I could not believe how fast it could climb up the tile wall. Then as I continued to swat at it, I found that it could also jump.
If I hadn't been half asleep, maybe I would have been too cautious to continue going after it. But then on the other hand I do not think I could have slept knowing that thing was crawling around in my apartment. I finally got it, but not before grabbing my camera and getting a picture to it. I also carried in my yard stick to show how big it was. After knocking it down and crunching it again with my sandal, I got some bug spray and finished him off. Oddly, I went right back to sleep, leaving the carcass to be carried out the following morning.
I have previously commented on how surprised I am, at the lack of insects here. Now I know that we not only have iguanas here eating them, but huge spiders as well. Yes, the window is still open Perhaps I like living dangerously. It seems that all my life I have tempted fate, but I am still here!
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Tuesday, May 7, 2013
LA PARROQUIA DE LA SANTA CRUZ
As Mexican churches go, this one has to be the ugliest that I have ever seen. It looks more like a fire station house or a warehouse than a church, other than the fairly attractive Italianate bell tower. Who knows what the architect had in mind, or maybe it really was a fire house and they just added the tower to it. The interior looks more like a regular Mexican church with all the plaster sculpture along the walls, but even the alter is very plain. You have to picture it without all the flowers that were brought in just for the celebration.
Every church in Mexico has its own patron saint. My church's saint is Santa Cruz (who ever that may be) and is celebrated the first week of May (and what a celebration it is). About a week before, each morning I would find more carnival like kids rides being dropped on my street. Eventually the whole street was closed to traffic. It is a really Big Deal here (much to my chagrin and discomfort). It must have a large following for the church is packed to overflowing for each service every day (or maybe they are all the same people). They have celebrations all year (when those G.D. bells clang away), one was at 3:00 in the morning. I have no idea what it was about either. Sometimes there is a wedding. Only at very big wedding do they ring all the bells (it must depend on how much money they give the priest).
It started on a Friday night when I heard Indians drums beating. There was a group of people dressed in feathers and capes doing some sort of a dance outside the cathedral doors. Then they all marched in. What the Indian dancers had to do with the saint will remain another mystery. The next time a larger group lined up out side chanting and all carrying flowers. Then the Indians came back and did their dance before the service every night (lots of drums and noise). The Catholic Church in Mexico is a mixture of pagan rituals and superstitions.
Every night for seven days, the carnival rides were open. Directly below my balcony was the Ferris wheel. I actually enjoyed watching the kids on the dozen or so rides, even though many of them scream a lot. What really bothered me (other than the bells and cannon blast) was the loud speaker blasting away directly at my bedroom. I think they are supposed to cut it off at 11:00 at night, but they do not (sleeping pills help a lot). I was amused by the cotton candy man. He had what looked like a round barbeque with a gas jet in the center. Some how strings of candy are blown up through it. He just holds a stick over the hole and in a minute it is a big stick of cotton candy. Of course what misses the stick is just blown up into the air. You can just grab a piece, if you are so inclined.
The big day was the 3rd of May (I think the saint's birthday) which occurred on the following Friday. There were huge crowds in the streets and four blocks in both directions were blocked off. In front of the church they set up a strange looking edifice that looked like it was made of steel and bamboo. Later that night is sudden rose to a height of three stories. It was the fire works display. I invited two friends over to watch it and my what a night it was. All the bells going and the cannon blasts. Booths had bee n set up for blocks selling trinkets or food. (That is my friend Filipe in front of the food court). Also lots of little stands were set up for different types of gambling (no one cares here). We waited forever and finally some time after 11:00 at night they started the fireworks. The tower was rigged with spinning wheels that were set off one at a time. Then it finally reached to top and Roman candles went off into the sky. Sorry, but with my camera all I got was a big white blur for the final bust of fire.
The sparks and fire fell back into the crowds and actually ignited some dead vines growing on the roof of the restaurant across from the church. Bells, cannon blasts and rockets went on for a long time. It was nice being able to watch it all from three stories above the streets. The kids loved it. One night my favorite bar tender (and very good friend) Filipe, brought over his little boy. He is only 18 months old and quite a handful for the mother (whom Filipe never married). Another couple came with them and she too was pregnant, and unmarried. They often never marry the mothers of their children. Although I must say that Filipe is a wonderful father. He is also just an all around good guy. He has been a great help to me ever since I moved here. He helped with all my moves and handles things like translating with government agencies and utility companies. After little Ian had his fill of the rides they all came up for some beers. I am glad they were not here for the final night because the crowds were so huge and I think all the noise would have frightened little Ian.
The morning after the big night I awoke to find all the rides were gone. I guess it is easier to move them in the middle of the night with less traffic. Shortly a man arrived and swept up all the debris and you would never have known anything had gone on. It was entertaining, but if it went on all month, I would have to move. As it is I only have to put up with the constant bell ringing. A half hour before each service the bells ring 22 times. then fifteen minutes later 24 bells, and finally at the beginning of the service 26 bells. Do not ask why so many bells, no one knows. Much of Mexico is a mystery (maybe that is why I find living here so interesting).
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Saturday, March 30, 2013
SEMANA SANTA
Semana Santa is probably the biggest vacation week in Mexico (at least for the coastal towns). Mexicans flee the inland areas by the thousands for a week at the ocean. They arrive mostly in pickup trucks with sometimes a dozen or more riding in the truck bed. Some will even sleep on the beach or dozens will bunk down in one small hotel room. For the young people it is sort of like Easter Week in The States (get very drunk and party, party, party). Mostly it is the whole family. The sand is a sea of brown bodies and colorful umbrellas for as far as the eye can see. Local residents will normally stay home and avoid the mobs. Even if you stay indoors you will hear them. Cars and trucks drive up and down the streets blasting music, singing and hanging out of the car windows with cans of beer..
Of course it is also a very religious week The bells have been ringing all week. After a while you get sort of used to the church bells, but not the cannons. When that thing blasts away, you will drop everything in your hands. Some one told me that the cannons are to frighten away evil spirits and that is why they blow them off during Holidays. Who know? Mexican religion is a mix of Catholic, pagan, and a lot of superstitions.
Not only are there a lot of services in the churches, but you also have the enactment of the last days of Christ. Beginning on Palm Sunday, you will find palm fronds everywhere. Some people carry whole palm leaves, but most will buy little handmade things of palm leaves, like the ones entering the church. Somewhere Christ will arrive on a donkey while people throw palm leaves in front of his procession. I tried all day to find out where it was to take a picture. No one I talked to seemed to know where the pageant was taking place, so I missed it.
Next day I asked my lady at the coffee shop. She called somebody (maybe a church) and told me that it would continue on Good Friday from 10:00 to 11:00 starting at the other end of the Malecon. I arrived early and noticed that little placards had been put up for each of the "stations of the cross" Ten o'clock came and went and then finally I saw the Roman soldiers on horse back arriving. Sure enough a bloody Christ was in the middle of the throng being savagely flayed. Behind Christ were the Jewish rabbis demanding that he be put to death. Then came all the followers, crying Marys and a few angels. Each stop took much too long while all they did was to beat up on Jesus.
By 11:00 they had not even reached station V, so I parked myself on the terrace of a lovely cantina overlooking the Malecon. I knew it would end at Plaza Cardenas which was at least a mile away, so I ordered a cerveca. Jesus was having a worse day, but I knew I could not last without a little stop. When the procession reached the amphitheater, I thought things would get more interesting, but NO! It was just more flogging (although one of his followers was now helping to carry the cross).
After that, I walked ahead to one of my coffee houses at the Plaza Cardenas, and had time for a snack before the procession reached me. Just as they were approaching the amphitheater, they stripped Jesus of his robe where the soldiers fought over it,. I thought they could have chosen a slimmer Christ (I don't remember seeing a fat Jesus before). They finally strapped him to the cross (they don't really nail him to it) By the time they hoisted him up for all to jeer at, I had been basically standing in the sun for three hours. After he dies on the cross they take him down (the Marys do something with the body). Then they place him on a placard and carry him out of the Plaza and up the street. But, I saw that last year and decided I had had enough of Christ for one day. Sorry about the photos, but it was very hard to fight through the crowds to get a good photo.
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Of course it is also a very religious week The bells have been ringing all week. After a while you get sort of used to the church bells, but not the cannons. When that thing blasts away, you will drop everything in your hands. Some one told me that the cannons are to frighten away evil spirits and that is why they blow them off during Holidays. Who know? Mexican religion is a mix of Catholic, pagan, and a lot of superstitions.
Not only are there a lot of services in the churches, but you also have the enactment of the last days of Christ. Beginning on Palm Sunday, you will find palm fronds everywhere. Some people carry whole palm leaves, but most will buy little handmade things of palm leaves, like the ones entering the church. Somewhere Christ will arrive on a donkey while people throw palm leaves in front of his procession. I tried all day to find out where it was to take a picture. No one I talked to seemed to know where the pageant was taking place, so I missed it.
Next day I asked my lady at the coffee shop. She called somebody (maybe a church) and told me that it would continue on Good Friday from 10:00 to 11:00 starting at the other end of the Malecon. I arrived early and noticed that little placards had been put up for each of the "stations of the cross" Ten o'clock came and went and then finally I saw the Roman soldiers on horse back arriving. Sure enough a bloody Christ was in the middle of the throng being savagely flayed. Behind Christ were the Jewish rabbis demanding that he be put to death. Then came all the followers, crying Marys and a few angels. Each stop took much too long while all they did was to beat up on Jesus.
By 11:00 they had not even reached station V, so I parked myself on the terrace of a lovely cantina overlooking the Malecon. I knew it would end at Plaza Cardenas which was at least a mile away, so I ordered a cerveca. Jesus was having a worse day, but I knew I could not last without a little stop. When the procession reached the amphitheater, I thought things would get more interesting, but NO! It was just more flogging (although one of his followers was now helping to carry the cross).
After that, I walked ahead to one of my coffee houses at the Plaza Cardenas, and had time for a snack before the procession reached me. Just as they were approaching the amphitheater, they stripped Jesus of his robe where the soldiers fought over it,. I thought they could have chosen a slimmer Christ (I don't remember seeing a fat Jesus before). They finally strapped him to the cross (they don't really nail him to it) By the time they hoisted him up for all to jeer at, I had been basically standing in the sun for three hours. After he dies on the cross they take him down (the Marys do something with the body). Then they place him on a placard and carry him out of the Plaza and up the street. But, I saw that last year and decided I had had enough of Christ for one day. Sorry about the photos, but it was very hard to fight through the crowds to get a good photo.
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Wednesday, March 6, 2013
TELECABLE CONFUSION
In Puerto Vallarta, you actually have several choices for internet access. I chose Telecable for they have a T.V. / Internet package. TelMex is supposed to have a more reliable internet service, but you have to put in a land line and I did not want or need another phone. TelMex is also owned by Carlos Slims (reputed to be the richest man in the world) who controls most of the communications in Mexico. I did not want to make him richer. Also Telecable has the most stations in English (if you can find them). They do not publish any kind of T.V. guide in English or Spanish, so you have to just channel surf to find your favorite programs. It is the most expensive utility that I have. The bill runs about forty some dollars, which is almost as much as all my other utility bills combined.
I was already used to Telecable when I rented this apartment. In retrospect, I should have done the six month to one year prepaid plan. But I had just prepaid my rent and decided to go on a month to month, but I gave them one of my credit cards so they could debit my account each month. The Telecable office is a 20 to 30 minute bus ride and the bus does not go by it, so you have to know where to get off and walk several blocks.
About two months later, I had no internet access. At first I thought it was just one of the many Mexican problems with internet. After a few days, I was getting desperate. A friend of mine told me he had the number of a Telecable service employee who was quite reliable and spoke some English. He was here within an hour of when I called. He played with the computer for a while, made a few calls, and then told me that the problem was that I had not paid the bill. I told him that I had given them my credit card to debit. He said the charge was rejected by my bank. THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE, I said. (Well, not in Mexico). I was able to reach my bank in the U.S. and found that they had submitted the charge with the wrong expiration date.
I had the guy call Telecable back and tell them the correct date. He did, and the charge went through. Silly me, I thought the problem was solved. NO! Next month it went out again. I called the same guy and sure enough, it was the same problem. Once more I gave them the correct date and told them to make the necessary changes. NO! Same thing next month. I called the guy again and asked if I should go to the office. When he called the head office, they said that the problem was not with them, but with Guadalajara for they made the monthly charges. Was there no way to fix this? Apparently not.
The following month without bothering the poor guy when the internet went out again, I took the bus to the office and demanded that they do something so I did not have to go through this every month. The lady sort of shrugged as if to say, "You are dealing with Mexico here, the problem is hopeless". She suggested that I come every month with cash. I told her that first, I did not want to take the bus there every month and since they send no bill. I don't know when it is due, or how much is due. She told me that I have to check their web site and put in my contract number and my account will appear. "Why can't I pay it one line then?" She said I could. WHAT! WAIT! I have been fighting this for six months and no one told me I could pay it on the net (assuming it is working).
Without waiting a month, I went to check it out. Not easily done. It took me sometime to find the correct site for bill paying. Of course everything is in Spanish. When I tried to enter my account number I found that I must register with them. There were about a dozen questions. I answered what I could figure out, but that was not good enough. My application was rejected. There was however what appeared to be a comment box. Knowing it would do no good I typed (in English) my frustration with trying to pay on line. The most amazing thing happened! A few days later I call a call from Telecable from a woman who spoke very good English (with a heavy accent, however). She walked me through the entire process. Will wonders never cease here in Mexico!
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I was already used to Telecable when I rented this apartment. In retrospect, I should have done the six month to one year prepaid plan. But I had just prepaid my rent and decided to go on a month to month, but I gave them one of my credit cards so they could debit my account each month. The Telecable office is a 20 to 30 minute bus ride and the bus does not go by it, so you have to know where to get off and walk several blocks.
About two months later, I had no internet access. At first I thought it was just one of the many Mexican problems with internet. After a few days, I was getting desperate. A friend of mine told me he had the number of a Telecable service employee who was quite reliable and spoke some English. He was here within an hour of when I called. He played with the computer for a while, made a few calls, and then told me that the problem was that I had not paid the bill. I told him that I had given them my credit card to debit. He said the charge was rejected by my bank. THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE, I said. (Well, not in Mexico). I was able to reach my bank in the U.S. and found that they had submitted the charge with the wrong expiration date.
I had the guy call Telecable back and tell them the correct date. He did, and the charge went through. Silly me, I thought the problem was solved. NO! Next month it went out again. I called the same guy and sure enough, it was the same problem. Once more I gave them the correct date and told them to make the necessary changes. NO! Same thing next month. I called the guy again and asked if I should go to the office. When he called the head office, they said that the problem was not with them, but with Guadalajara for they made the monthly charges. Was there no way to fix this? Apparently not.
The following month without bothering the poor guy when the internet went out again, I took the bus to the office and demanded that they do something so I did not have to go through this every month. The lady sort of shrugged as if to say, "You are dealing with Mexico here, the problem is hopeless". She suggested that I come every month with cash. I told her that first, I did not want to take the bus there every month and since they send no bill. I don't know when it is due, or how much is due. She told me that I have to check their web site and put in my contract number and my account will appear. "Why can't I pay it one line then?" She said I could. WHAT! WAIT! I have been fighting this for six months and no one told me I could pay it on the net (assuming it is working).
Without waiting a month, I went to check it out. Not easily done. It took me sometime to find the correct site for bill paying. Of course everything is in Spanish. When I tried to enter my account number I found that I must register with them. There were about a dozen questions. I answered what I could figure out, but that was not good enough. My application was rejected. There was however what appeared to be a comment box. Knowing it would do no good I typed (in English) my frustration with trying to pay on line. The most amazing thing happened! A few days later I call a call from Telecable from a woman who spoke very good English (with a heavy accent, however). She walked me through the entire process. Will wonders never cease here in Mexico!
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WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT COCKS
First, let me assure you that I have never attended a cock fight, nor will I ever. I find the whole idea to be abhorrent and disgusting. I knew they did occur in Mexico, but really knew nothing about them. About six months ago my friend Elvis' older brother became quite interested and traveled to Mexico City to pick up two of them at a cost of $500.00 if you can believe. Oddly enough he is a veterinarian and owns five clinics.
Since then Elvis has gone to several of the meets (or whatever they call them) Apparently a lot of money is exchanged and it can cost 1,000 to 5,000 pesos just to enter your cock. He became quite fascinated with cock fighting.
One night Elvis asked me what I knew about farms in Alabama. I knew enough to know that I would not go near one and had a very dim opinion of Alabama. Then is realized he was talking about farms that raised and sold cocks. We still have a huge communication problem. His brother told him that Alabama had the best cocks in the world. He was very interested in getting to know more about cocks and asked me to do a computer search. (You do know that we are talking about chickens, don't you? GOOD!)
Well as I am typing away doing a Google search, I could not help but wonder what new wonderful spam mail would I be receiving. I managed to find Red Fox Farms. I guess the biggest and best cocks anywhere. They had a very nice web site with pictures of them. I had no idea they were so beautiful. Some are blue and green, mixed with red and yellow. I also learned that a pullet is a hen and a stag is a rooster, Okay, I was a city boy and know nothing about farm animals. The price was about half what they cost in Mexico. While the site gave a list of "most asked questions". Elvis wanted to know about the cost of shipping to Mexico and what, if any problems would there be with Mexican customs. I tried to email the farm, but it would not accept my email address. A box popped up that said I had to register my email address with them.
Some thing told me that I did not want to be registered with an Alabama Cock Farm, so I agreed to call them the following day. One thing I was sure about; I was not about to have them delivered to my door. Nor would I go to Mexican customs to claim ten fighting cocks. The next day, I reached a very sweet lady at the cock farm and told her why I was calling. I also tried to make it clear that the cocks were not for me. So, I was secretly pleased when she told me that they could not sends birds for fighting purposes over the state line. I figured that most of the county would have bans against cock fighting, with the exception of a few "red neck" states in The South. She said they could only send them in pairs "for the purpose of breeding them". What a relief, I thought.
That night I tried to explained to Elvis the problem of shipping fighting cocks in the U.S. I thought he would be very disappointed. NO! His face lit up and he was quite excited about the prospect. He immediately called his brother and while I have no idea what the conversation was about I could tell by Elvis' animation that they were both very excited about it. When he was off the phone, I asked if he understood that he had to order a hen with each cock. Did he plan on breeding them and raising the little chicks? I asked what he expected to do with the hens. He said, "We will eat them!" That would certainly be the most expensive chicken dinner anyone had ever had.
The next day, he had a new plan. He had a friend at the border in Tijuana that "might" be able to sneak them across the border. This certainly signaled danger in my view and I once again had to explain that the problem was that fighting cocks cannot be sent across the Alabama border so there was no way to get them to California. He did not want to give up. Fortunately, his brother proved to have the cooler head and put the kibosh on the whole plan. He did not want the hens and had no desire to raise chicks. What a relief, I thought. Can't wait to hear his next plan.
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Since then Elvis has gone to several of the meets (or whatever they call them) Apparently a lot of money is exchanged and it can cost 1,000 to 5,000 pesos just to enter your cock. He became quite fascinated with cock fighting.
One night Elvis asked me what I knew about farms in Alabama. I knew enough to know that I would not go near one and had a very dim opinion of Alabama. Then is realized he was talking about farms that raised and sold cocks. We still have a huge communication problem. His brother told him that Alabama had the best cocks in the world. He was very interested in getting to know more about cocks and asked me to do a computer search. (You do know that we are talking about chickens, don't you? GOOD!)
Well as I am typing away doing a Google search, I could not help but wonder what new wonderful spam mail would I be receiving. I managed to find Red Fox Farms. I guess the biggest and best cocks anywhere. They had a very nice web site with pictures of them. I had no idea they were so beautiful. Some are blue and green, mixed with red and yellow. I also learned that a pullet is a hen and a stag is a rooster, Okay, I was a city boy and know nothing about farm animals. The price was about half what they cost in Mexico. While the site gave a list of "most asked questions". Elvis wanted to know about the cost of shipping to Mexico and what, if any problems would there be with Mexican customs. I tried to email the farm, but it would not accept my email address. A box popped up that said I had to register my email address with them.
Some thing told me that I did not want to be registered with an Alabama Cock Farm, so I agreed to call them the following day. One thing I was sure about; I was not about to have them delivered to my door. Nor would I go to Mexican customs to claim ten fighting cocks. The next day, I reached a very sweet lady at the cock farm and told her why I was calling. I also tried to make it clear that the cocks were not for me. So, I was secretly pleased when she told me that they could not sends birds for fighting purposes over the state line. I figured that most of the county would have bans against cock fighting, with the exception of a few "red neck" states in The South. She said they could only send them in pairs "for the purpose of breeding them". What a relief, I thought.
That night I tried to explained to Elvis the problem of shipping fighting cocks in the U.S. I thought he would be very disappointed. NO! His face lit up and he was quite excited about the prospect. He immediately called his brother and while I have no idea what the conversation was about I could tell by Elvis' animation that they were both very excited about it. When he was off the phone, I asked if he understood that he had to order a hen with each cock. Did he plan on breeding them and raising the little chicks? I asked what he expected to do with the hens. He said, "We will eat them!" That would certainly be the most expensive chicken dinner anyone had ever had.
The next day, he had a new plan. He had a friend at the border in Tijuana that "might" be able to sneak them across the border. This certainly signaled danger in my view and I once again had to explain that the problem was that fighting cocks cannot be sent across the Alabama border so there was no way to get them to California. He did not want to give up. Fortunately, his brother proved to have the cooler head and put the kibosh on the whole plan. He did not want the hens and had no desire to raise chicks. What a relief, I thought. Can't wait to hear his next plan.
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Friday, March 1, 2013
NEW LEASE (ON LIFE) IN MEXICO
So, after five months I contacted my Realtor and told him I wanted to get going on a new lease. I felt that since I was the 'perfect' tenant and had not only paid in advance, but I have prepaid almost all the utility bills as well, so they should be happy to have me stay here. Of course the lawyer for the landlord never returned any of my Realtors calls. In desperation, I went back to the Sporting Goods Store (also owned by the same family) where I had met the lawyer and signed the first lease. To my delight there was a very nice guy behind the counter who spoke perfect English. The lawyer does not speak a word of English (at least he refuses to converse in English) The guy then informed me that he was the landlord's nephew who would be moving in next door to me. The apartment has been under construction (off and on) since before I moved in here.
He immediately called the lawyer and explained that I was prepared to pay two months 'up front" plus the one months security deposit, but wanted at least a one year lease. He said in that case, he would only give me a three month lease. Finally it was agreed that I would pay six months again, but I would get a one year lease. At least that is what I think was agreed upon. I explained that since I can only take so much out of the bank in one day that it would take me three days to get the money together. He said he would meet me the following Monday morning with the new lease.
I ran right off to the bank to start withdrawing the money. I was already in the ATM booth when I discovered that I did not have my ATM card with me. I always carried in inside the copies of all my identification in my back pocket. Since I had just drawn money out there days before, I was sure it must be some where in my apartment. It was not! It was not where I stash extra cash. It was not in the pants I had been wearing. It was not in the washing machine or the dryer, I do not know if the machine did not return the card right away (it beeps loudly when it does) or if some how I dropped it or it fell out of my pocket.
It was just gone. First I checked my bank account on the internet and fortunately no transactions had been made since my own withdrawal.
I then called my bank. Or rather I called the automated phone line bank. I could not believe how hard it was to report a stolen card. I understand that on the back of the card there is a number to report stolen cards, but since the card was gone I did not have that number. (Who writes down such numbers, certainly not I). So I had to call what is laughingly called "customer service". Even after I managed to report the lost or stolen card, I still did not get a live person. After a long pause a voice came on to say that a new card was being mailed to my address. " BUT I AM NOT IN THE U.S", I screamed. After a good long time of yelling into the phone I did get a real person. I explained to her that I was in Mexico and a card sent to my U.S. address would do me no good. She managed to cancel that request and ordered one sent to my apartment in Mexico. She had no idea how long it would take, but it would go out FedEx. I asked for a FedEx number, but she said that she did not have it and to call back the following day.
The following day was a Saturday when I discovered that nothing would be done until Monday. I finally did get a FedEx number and by tracking it on my computer found that it had been sent and would be delivered on Thursday. Not soon enough, but what can you do. On Wednesday morning I found that it had already arrived in Puerto Vallarta, so hoping that it would be delivered that afternoon. I went to the Sporting Goods Store and told him that I would have the cash (pesos) by Friday and to please arrange for the lawyer to have the lease ready for me. I did also stop for my morning latte and sure enough when I got back, there was a tag on the door that said the FedEx man had been here ten minutes before I got home.
On the slip of paper they had checked a box that (in Spanish) said to call to arrange another delivery. You won't believe this unless you have lived in Mexico, but THERE IS NO TELEPHONE NUMBER on the tag.
I called my friend who speaks perfect English and Spanish. He called somewhere and they told him that it would be delivered to me the following day. NO time given.
In the meanwhile, I had received several email messages from my Realtor. I told him that I had arranged in ten minutes what he had not been able to do in a month. He wanted to be there anyway "for my protection" I told him that until I get my ATM card, it is all on hold. When I did speak to the guy at the Sporting Goods Store, I told him that my Realtor wanted to be there and to ask the lawyer about that. He told me that he was sure that the Realtor would want a commission for the new lease and if so, I would have to pay it in addition to my six months rent. Since my Realtor had not only not been able to get me a better deal on the first lease, and never gave me a translated copy of the first lease (as promised), I decided I did not need him.
The next morning, I not only did not leave the apartment, but left the door on the street wide open. I had yet to cancel bridge with my partner, hoping that it would arrive at about the same time as the previous day. Again assuming the Mexican FedEx would have a delivery plan. If all else failed, my friend who spoke to some one at FedEx said that I could claim it between 7:00 and 8:00 at night. The trucks would return at seven and the office closed at eight.
While I was waiting, my friend who is visiting from Minnesota arrived at my door to see my apartment. I had him watch the door while I shaved and showered. He had no sooner left when my Realtor appeared at my door. I explained to him my problem with FedEx. He too was surprised that there was no number on the slip, so he called Mexican information. The only listing they had was a FedEx in Guadalajara. He called them and they told him that my parcel was at the Puerto Vallarta FedEx office and if it was not picked up by tomorrow, they would send it back to the U.S!
He said he knew where the office was, so the two of us jumped in a taxi and took off. It is a good thing I had him with me for the taxi driver had no idea where the office was (this is not uncommon with taxi drivers in Mexico). After an interminable wait at the office, the girl returned from the back room to say that my parcel was on the truck and he would be at my home in 15 minutes. We hurried back by taxi (taking the last 50 pesos I had to my name) and sure enough in less than 5 minutes the man arrived. Not in a brown FedEx truck, but in a blue and white "Multipax" truck. The FedEx office here is listed only under "Multipax" (who would know?),
My Realtor then informed me that he had indeed spoken to the lawyer and we would "all" meet at the Sporting Goods store at ten tomorrow morning. I ran to the bank and drew out my maximum and planned to go back early the next day, but that still left me 2,000 pesos short (assuming I did not have to come up with the extra for commission) At this point, I figured that out later. I called my friend here and he agreed to loan me the extra until I could get to the bank on Saturday for another withdrawal.
The lawyer took care of the Realtor by telling him that we did not need him and there would be on commission. I was early, the lawyer was late. He had the lease all typed out except he said that it was only for 6 months. He still does not trust me. I did get it for the same cheap rent, so I figured, what the Hell.
Of course I still could not read it, but I did look at dates. The original lease was written one week before I signed it and before I got the key. Sure enough I am shorted one week again. But I also noticed that it looked like it expired in three months. "Oh, so sorry, I make mistake". I waited for him to rewrite that page, gave him the six months rent, got a receipt. He then had to take it to the landlady for her signature, so I told him I would be back later,
The final copy was there, all signed by the landlady, lawyer and one witness (God knows who!) So for the next six months I am safe and I won't owe any rent. What a relief! In September he said it would go up 500 pesos (about $40.00). Not much, but I can fight that another day. Tonight I get drunk!
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