LA FIESTA PASADO (THE LAST COCKTAIL PARTY )

Technically it was my last party, but it may also have been The Last Party.  They are an enormous amount of work  (for someone as lazy as I am) and cost me too much money (even in Mexico)  I began a month ahead of time getting the house together.  You have already read about my touch up painting and new planting.  I did some deep cleaning, like under cabinets and under chests and had also taken everything out of the cabinet in the dining room and cleaned everything in it.  The real cleaning cannot be done until just a few days before due to the constant black dust that blows in my windows from the dirt and cobble stone streets and the exhaust from all the cars and trucks..

Then just to complicate matter (you know how I love to do that to myself)  I slipped and fell.  I had  been making my tuna salad (a mainstay of my diet).  Since I put in four chopped eggs, it is more like egg salad with tuna.  Anyway all along I had been washing dishes and must have spilled some water on the floor.  I had gone to the refrigerator to get a jar of mayonnaise and mustard, then I slipped with a jar in each hand.  Unwilling to drop anything I tried to break my fall with my elbow on the edge of the tile counter.  My elbow is scrapped and sore, but the real damage was to my shoulder which took all the weight of my body. (Of course I had been drinking.  It was after 6:00 at night)  The real pain started the next day.  I could barely move my right arm.  No way I could carry anything heavy let alone sweep and mop my floors.

It was also a Sunday.  Four years ago I learned about going to one of the local clinics instead of a regular doctor.  I think they are partially Government supported and are mostly set up for poor people (Well!!)   Oddly enough no one was in the waiting room so I had just a short wait to see the doctor.  I explained what had happened and hoped to get a shot of cortisone.  She took some readings of blood pressure and pulse, then moved my arm about.  Convinced nothing was really broken she gave me a shot (with two more to follow in two days)  She also gave me some salve to rub on it and some pain killers.  The doctor visit, the shots, and the medication cost 175 pesos (about $10.00 at today's exchange rate)   Can you imagine what the cost would have been had I walked into an emergency room in The States?  Probably over $1,000.00.  Of course my insurance company in The States would have happily paid the $1,000, but not a dime for my medical treatments in Mexico.  It makes no sense to me.  Sometimes I think that American logic is more stupid that Mexican logic (and they don't have any logic).  But this is fodder for another posting.  When I went back for my last shot, I stopped on my way to meet a friend for lunch at River Cafe.  I thought I had plenty of time, but after I paid my 20 pesos and went into the waiting room, I found five people ahead of me.  I stuck around for a while then went back to the counter and explained that I had another appointment and I would like to turn in my ticket and return a few hours later.  She said something I did not understand, but I got the impression she wanted me to wait.  Then she took me in another room and gave me the shot.  Was it because I was a gringo, or because she knew I did not need a consultation with the doctor.  They are wonderful.

Next came shopping.  I need 3 bottles of Vodka, 3 bottles of Tequila, 3 bottles of Scotch (less one for my own consumption), 2 bottles of Gin, 3 cases of beer, 2 cases of wine (one red and one white) and various mixes.  We drink a lot down here.  Then 2 platters of Mexican finger food, 4 small thin crust pizzas, meat and cheese rolls, nuts, dip, and of course guacamole supplied by my friend Hector who makes the best guacamole )n Mexico.  I type up 4 invitations on a sheet of paper, so each year I just have to make a few changes (like dates).  Unfortunately I made one more and in so doing erased my address on two of them.  This I discovered only after having my coffee lady decorate the invitation.  She is a great artist and I am having it framed.

Two nights before the party, dark clouds approached and it started to sprinkle.  OH NO!  It cannot rain on my party.  There is no way my apartment will accommodate over 50 people without the use of my huge  terrace.  The tile stairs going up to it are very slippery.  With wet soles, it becomes lethal.  Luckily the sun came out the following day.  Then the night before the party around 11:00 at night I heard this terrible racket.  I looked out to discover a backhoe digging up the street in front of my house.  Will I have water or a sewer tomorrow?  Having over 50 people here with one bathroom is a problem.  If the toilet does not flush it goes to a whole other dimension.  It went on past midnight, but the following moring I learned they were just connecting the water and sewer lines to the old hacienda being renovated across the street.  Why they decided to do this at midnight for a building that will not be open for at least another month?  Well, you would have to ask them.

It was a beautiful evening with a cool breeze and clear sky with lots of stars.  It must be mating season for bats as I have had swarms of them in the huge mango trees behind my house.  Just a little more excitement for an evening that didn't really need any more.  People told me it was The Best Party Ever (not just my best, but The Best).  I have a very eclectic guest list.  The age range was from 22 to almost 80 (that would be me, of course)  There were a couple of doctors, university professors, a world renown ex belly dancer, several multimillionaires, and a hooker.  (Anyone remember the party scene from Breakfast at Tiffnays ?) My two bar tenders did a great job.  I couldn't get every out until almost 11:00.  I was exhausted, but the guys had washed all the glasses and dishes so the next morning all I had to do was to mop the floors and put stuff back together again.  I am still beat.  Will I do another one?  Who knows?   But no robber arrived.

UN DIA MUY MALO (A VERY BAD DAY)

This will be one of those posting where my friend will say, "Anyone reading your blog will never visit Mexico"  So let me start by saying that in over five years here, nothing like this has ever happened to me before.  Yes, I do know other people who were robbed, but I always suspected that it might have been someone that had (at some point) been invited into their home.  One friend of mine was even murdered.  He had told me of three robberies,(Three?) before he told me that his car was stolen.  How did they get his keys?  I also knew from a scuffle one night at Apaches that he knew some pretty rough people.  A few weeks after he told me of his car being stolen, he disappeared!  He was very well known and very well liked in Vallarta.  He was head of the Writers Club.  It was less than a week later that a Mexican "acquaintance" of his had been stopped driving his car.. A search of the guys home turned up several items taken from Collin's home.  (they do not bother with search warrants here) After some interrogation (No, I do not know if torture is involved), the guy showed them where the body was.  At first the guy was released as the police said, "they had no real proof that the guy murdered Collin".   The public outcry was so loud that the Mexican was rearrested.  Beyond that I do not know what happened to him

Now to my day.  In another blog you have already heard about my problem with Ciel Water Co.  The drivers either are transferred or quit every few weeks, so you never get the same guy again.  The previous time I had called my last driver and he did politely tell me that he no longer worked for Ciel and to call the company.  I did, and again, and again the following day.  As it happened I was on the balcony and spotted the Ciel truck in front of my place.  I yelled down at them.  They gave a confused look so I ran down stairs.  They were delivering next door, so I told them I wanted two bottles.  He asked (in English) had I called the office.  (Yes,  three times!!)  Anyway he gave me his name and telephone number so the next time when I needed more water I called him.  He said he would be there in five minutes (I knew that was not happening)  After four hours, I had errands to run, so I told the taco people next door to watch for Ciel and tell them to return in one hour.  First I went to pay my rent, then stopped at Guadalajara Pharmacy (the only grocery store this side of the river). because the day before they were out of bread and eggs.  They were still out, Next I went by the clinic to get a shot for a cold/flu that would not go away.  There were six people waiting so I left and went to the framer who was framing the art work done for my invitations.  It had been over a week and I hoped it was ready.  There was a sign in the window stating that would be closed from Dec. 31st to Jan. 3rd (it was the 4th).  So I went home and the taco people told me that Ciel had shown up and would return.

I opened both the doors on the street to make it easier for him to carry in the large bottles.  When he did not show up I decided to lie down and read a little.  Of course I fell asleep.  A noise woke me, so I jumped up and ran into the living room.  The Ciel guy was at the bottom of the stair case.  I told him to bring up two bottles.  When he did I turned to give him the money I had laid out and it was gone! I left money for the water and had also left the money I had for the framer.  Both were gone!  Still a little groggy and confused from having just been waken, I merely went to a draw where I knew I had a stack of 50 peso notes.  Then I dug into my change jar to make sure he got a tip.  After he left I continued to look around for the money.  Then I thought about my money clip.  It was gone with another 1,000 pesos.  Now I cannot believe I was stupid enough to leave it on the dinning table.  I had changed from my cargo shorts to more comfortable sleeping shorts.  My phone and the rest of the stuff in my pockets was on the dresser in my bedroom.  I had been lying on the bed in the guest bedroom which had a clear view across the dinning table to the staircase.  The photo through the door frame shows what I would have seen had my eyes been open.

Anyone seeing the open door and climbing the stairs would also have seen me lying on the bed. Would a total stranger risk that?  Who would guess that money was  right next to the staircase on the dining table?  Of course there is a new door mat that says "Bienvenido" in gold letters at the entrance.  Oh Wait!! This was not my first robbery.  A week prior having mopped the staircase, I left my old door mat out side until the stairs dried.  When I went down stairs, it was gone.  My best guess is that the Ciel guy walked up the stairs before announcing himself, saw the money, took it and then went back down the stairs .  Of course I have no proof and I am still at a loss to explain the missing money clip.  Before I had left the house I had set aside the money for the water and for the frame, so there was no need for me to get into the money in my clip.  We will never know.  Now in real money the total of all three piles totals less than $70.00. (I think the money clip cost me more than that)

The next morning I realized that my camera was also gone.  Now we are talking about some real money.  But more than the money, the memory chip had photos going back to my aunt's 100th birthday as well of my most favorite shots.. It was then that I realized some of the invitations to my party were also missing.  Had he taken some planning on crashing my party to steal more stuff?  During my patty I always have both doors open so I do not have to run up and down the stairs for each guest arrival.  As I told you before I never know all of the people who show up, but this year I will stand guard at the top of the stairs and question any Mexican stranger that walks up. I am still really bummed out.  It isn't just the loss of the money, or the camera, or photos;  you feel violated and vulnerable.  Of course I will be much more careful about the door, but what do I do when I need new water?  The alternative to calling Ciel is to stop the guy who drives around in a pick up with bottled water and shouting, "Agua, Agua"  But the bottles are old and scarred and not sealed.  Where does the water come from?   But the more I think about it, I believe it was a professional thief because who ever it was they had to pass right by me to get into the bedroom.

Yes, I know.  I can almost hear the "Tsk, tsk, tsk" all the way down here.  What do you want me to say?  I have already told you that I am stupid (and too trusting).  Who in their right mind would leave doors open on the street while taking a nap?  Not even the U.S. let alone Mexico where a third of the population is unemployed or under paid.  The minimum wage here is 68 pesos a day (Not an hour!)  That is a little over $4.00 a day.  So yes I will be more careful in the future and watch who tries to crash my party.  Stay tuned .......


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NEW YEARS EVE (LA NOCHE DE AÑO NUEVO)

It has been over 15 years since I did any kind of celebration for New Years Eve.  Many years ago when I was young (Well, in my 40's)  I gave huge New Years Parties.  I lived in a house built in the 30's by a famous Laguna architect.  It looked kind of like a French farm house nestled in a half acre of avocado trees.  I  spent two years restoring it and it was quite beautiful.  The house was not large, but it had a guest house on the upper patio.  I added a large lower brick patio where I installed gas heaters.  The living room had a two story rafter ed ceiling where a twelve candle bronze candelabra hung.  I put balloons in a net up in the rafters and with the pull of a cord, they would cascade down at midnight (hopefully avoiding the candles).

Years later Serge and I would give formal dinner parties.  We served five or six courses ending just before midnight with champagne served in fluted Baccarat.  But those days are long gone, along with Serge and the Baccarat.  My life is much, much simpler now.  I am in bed (reading) by 11:00 and sound asleep my midnight.  This year Jennifer asked if I would go with her down to Olas Altos on New Years.  I hesitated a moment and then said, "Sure". As a near octogenarian, how many New Years Eve could I expect.  You cannot sleep here anyway.  The fireworks start sometime after midnight (nothing happens on time here) and go on for 20 to 30 minutes.  My church rings bells and shoots off the canon.  Cars honk, kids set off firecrackers,  people yell and scream, so you might as well stay up.  Mexico is a very noisy place.

I told Jennifer that I would cook something for dinner.  Jennifer you may have guessed was my "unexpected house guest".  Every restaurant in town offers New Years Eve dinners ranging from $50.00 to $100.00.  In Mexido ??  Really ??.  Way above my budget.  I served a simple dinner of my famous "margarita" chicken with 40 cloves of garlic.  I changed the original recipe by using Cointreau and Tequila.  No champagne, no caviar, but we had a nice dinner.  After a little clean up we started off to Olas Altos.  First we stopped at our favorite bar Fridas.  At one end of the bar was a token drag queen.  I expected we would encounter more before the evening was over.

Olas Altos during "the season" is a four block party of bars and restaurants spread out across the wide sidewalk.  For New Years, the street is closed to traffic.  Huge speakers, a disc jockey, and large TV screens were installed.  It was packed as well as my second favorite bar "Apaches".  With the crowd mingling and moving around, it wasn't long before we got a table outside.  The noise was deafening, but Hell, it was New Years.  Just before midnight, we paid our bill and hurried around the corner to the pier to see the fireworks.  Sorry my camera does not capture fireworks well.  The largest fireworks display occurs across the river at the main square in front of the cathedral. They were still going when I reached home and my deck, so I could get off one more shot of the fireworks beside my own church bell tower.  The firecrackers (or were they gun shots) went on for another half an hour before things quieted done enough for me to sleep.

The next morning occurred very slowly.  I am glad I did it, but I think next year, I will stay home and watch the fireworks from my deck.  I have a better view of them than those at the pier.   Fireworks no longer hold the fascination they once did (especially since we have them every night here).  And dancing in the streets is also over for me.

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ABONO DE BORREGO (SHEEP SHIT)

My annual cocktail party was just a little over a month away, so I started doing some stuff around the house.  I did some touch up painting, bleached the grout in my tile counters and walls and arranged for Saul to clean and service my four ceiling fans.  But the most important visual affect for my party is my garden.  I wanted it to look its best.  A some point all guests will make their way up to the terrace.

My hibiscus had never done well.  I constantly fought bugs and disease and I was losing the battle with at least one of them.  It was not going to recover and its twin  was looking funny and dropping all its bud before they opened.  I decided to replace both of them.  Oddly enough, the yellow hibiscus is my oldest plant (other than some palms) and it is still doing fine in the same pot.  It is also in front of the air conditioning unit and gets blasts of hot air all summer (who knows?)   Filipe agreed to take me to the nursery to see what I could find.  But first I wanted to stop at Walmart to pick up some potting soil.  At the nursery what they sell as soil is just dirt.  They say it has compost in it, but really it is mostly some (hopefully) dead devil grass and other weeds.  When the pot dries out it is like an adobe brick with little or no nutrition for the plant.

I could not find what I have previously purchased but there were large white bags of something that said "abono".  I asked Filipe what it meant and he said it was the same as dirt.  Great I will buy that. Then it was off to the nursery.  I was not about to try more hibiscus and hated my two bougainvilleas. The blooms are practically airborne when they fall off.  The blossoms blow across my patio and down the staircase and into my kitchen.  I already have nine palm trees and wanted a blooming bush of some kind. The crown of thorns does very well and blooms all year, but I already had four of them.  I spotted a pink thing that might do.  I already had a red version in that blue pot, and since I got the right spray it had done very well.  The plant comes in red, yellow and pink and is used all over the city.  I was told to go to El Dragon (no idea) and buy a spray.there.  It sells mostly just chemicals.  The City regularly spray all the trees and public planting with something.  It is supposed to be for mosquitoes, but seems to kill everything. It may be DDT for all I know.  Yes, I know that DDT has been banned all over the world for over 50 years, but This is Mexico!

I did not want to buy the whole bottle until I tried it, so he poured a some amount in a spray bottle and filled it with water.  He told me to shake well before spraying.  It worked extremely well (maybe DDT?)  But apparently I did not shake it enough.  As the liquid got to the bottom of the bottle and I sprayed the plant, and it fried it.  The buds and leaves turned brown and fell off.  But it recovered.  So I bought a whole bottle and now shake it very well.  I bought the two pink ones and a canvas bag of soil.  Filipe carried it all up the two flights of stairs for me and dumped it.  After he left I decided to inspect the bags of ¨"abono".  I noticed it said something about using two cups.  TWO CUPS?  Then I read on and it said something about avoiding getting in your eyes and to wash your hands immediately.  What the Hell was this stuff?  So I got out my dictionary.  Abono de Borrego is sheep shit!  (well, literally lamb, but it is still poop).  Filipe speaks good English, but as it often happens, something is lost in the translation.  He lives in a small two room apartment and I am sure, has never had a potted plant and probably had no idea what was potting soil.

Obviously I could not use the bags as extra soil to mix with the dirt.  I was afraid that I would not have enough soil to finish the potting.  I was not about to ask Filipe to go back for more dirt, or drive all the way to Home Depot where I knew they had good soil.  I already pay Filipe too much money for the trip and paid him even more this time.  He mentioned his little boy wanted an expensive toy for Christmas and he was going to have to buy it on time.  So, I thought, Hell, it is Christmas.  You may remember Filipe as the smiling muscle guy behind the bar at my last party.  He has a wife and kid that he supports on his tips from the bar, so I help him when I can.

I had also already arranged for Jorge to saddle soap all my leather and equipauli furniture and he could help me pot them.  I thought the only way was to get as much dirt off the discarded plants as possible.  I assumed after four years (and because of their poor performance) that they well all root bound.  I expected the plant to pull all the soil out.  No, Jorge managed to get the plant out with lots of soil left.  He is a good hard worker and cleaned up afterward by hosing down the deck.

So now I have two new pink things (I have no idea what they are called in English or Spanish).  Obviously they will not become big bushy plants in a month, but they look better than dead ones.  Must continue getting stuff done for the party.  Meanwhile deciding what to do with the other two bags of Sheep Shit !

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THE HOUSE GUEST (LA CASA DE HUESPEDES)

One of the reasons I took this apartment over three years ago, was because it had a guest room.  I thought that it would be perfect for some of my friends in California, and hopefully some of my friends in France.  But no one every has used the room.  Well, that is not exactly true.  You may remember my "sleeping beauty" who was left over from my last cocktail party.  Still not a real house guest.

Last year I met an attractive lady at my local bar.  She was quite intelligent and I enjoyed talking to her.  Eventually we went out to dinner.  After a few drinks I decided to ask her a question that had bothered me since I met her.  "why"  I asked would a classy lady like you visit a toilet of a bar like my "favorite bar".  She told me that her first apartment was near the bar and she just started stopping in there.  Now she was writing a book about the bar and its clients.  That I thought would be a book I would love to read (wondering of course how I would be depicted).  She is still working on it and so far I have seen none of it.

After six months she returned to Canada.  We kept in touch via email and then she announced that she was returning and had taken an apartment just one block from me.  I had her over for drinks several times.  I love discussing politics and religion with her.  She was raised in the Anglican Church and became a deacon in the church, so it took me a while to tell her that I thought all religions are just plain dumb.  I am fascinated by the history of religion and how they all evolved, but think that basically they are just another business trying to take money from the populace.  One night she told me about her problems with a new neighbor in her building.   He stays up all night with the television blasting at full volume and then sleeps all day.  After a couple of sleepless nights she told him that he had to turn the television off after midnight.  He became very angry and irate.

She then complained to the land lord.  After he spoke to the guy, he really became angry and shouted obscenities at her and threatened to kill her, while pounding on her door.  In the meantime she learned that he had been thrown out of almost every bar in town.  My favorite bar tender threw him out and the guy came back and offered a 1,000 peso bribe, if he would serve him more liquor.  He refused. Finally it escalated to the point where she called the police.  He was arrested and put in jail.  For an angry man, a Mexican prison is not something that would improve his disposition.  At that point I told her that she could not stay in her apartment once he was released and suggested she move into my guest room.

Having lived alone for the past 17 years, it was an adjustment, especially since she was a woman.  I sleep in the nude, so the fist thing I did was to dig out an old robe out of my "travel drawer".  It was a wise move for the next morning I saw shocked when opening my bedroom door t see her seated at my dining table typing away on her computer.  Until I have my first two cups of coffee and my cigarettes, I am unconscious.  Conversation is not an option at that hour.  But she was very polite and neat (I noticed her bed was already made up).  She spends 10 hours a day writing.  She has written several books, mostly on politics.  But I am only interested on the one she is working on about my bar.  None of her books have made her much money, so she freelance writes for social media.  Companies hire her to create blogs, or just write favorable comments.  I use no social media at all, so I understand none of this.

Later that morning she went back to her apartment to speak to her landlord, knowing that the ogre would be sound asleep.  She demanded that they evict him.  The landlord told her that "Mexico is a noisy place" (very true) and they were not about to only select tenants that she approved of. Very typically, Mexican men are very macho and do not like being told what to do by a woman.   She was so mad, she started looking for another apartment-  Then she accidentally ran into her landlords at a taco stand..  He told her that she was right and had gotten into a fist fight with the man at 5:00 am that morning.  They had given him a week to move.  The guy said he had paid rent and had every right to be there and that my friend was the problem.  In Mexico you do not need a court order to remove a tenant.  You just go in while they are out, place all their stuff outside and change the locks, so the landlord was giving him more leeway than necessary.  Apparently the mad man was not that appreciative.  We continued to hear about other encounters where the man had become violent.  My bartender told me that when the guy is sober (which is rare) he appears and acts normal.  But once he starts drinking he becomes insane.

After she was here for a week, she moved to a girl friends apartment.  She felt she had stayed with me too long already (I did not protest).  Finally the man did move somewhere  (no one knows where). The landlord changed to locks in his door, her door, and the gate on the street.  He also promised to have an iron security gate added to her door.  A nice gesture, but it will probably never happen.

So far no one has seen him since, so maybe he moved to a new part of town.  I wonder how long before he is kicked out of more bars and evicted again.  The guy hates everything and everyone here.
One might ask, "Why is he still here,  why doesn't he go back home?"  He claims to live in France but is really half Italian and half Spanish (this may account for his disposition).  My friend thinks that maybe he cannot return home and that is why he is in Mexico.  She still is trying to get him deported, but so far nothing has happened.  Always a little excitement here.

My guest room is empty again and my life is back to its normal routine (of doing almost nothing).. I did enjoy our evening conversations over drinks or dinner.   My next house guest isn't due until next May.  He will be here for two weeks.  Hopefully less drama. We will see.

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ESPERA POR PÁTRICIA (WAITING FOR PATRICIA)

One could say a lot of bad things about living in Mexico (and I certainly have) but one thing  for sure, it is never  boring.  We always have a little excitement.  During the five years I have lived here, we have had a dozen hurricane warning, but usually nothing happened, but a little rain.  So when I heard that a hurricane was due to hit us the following day, I thought nothing about it.  The next morning, the warning were a little more dire.  The airport and all businesses were advised to close.  Not knowing that, I went off to the gym and found it closed.  I also noticed that nothing else was open.  On my way home, I did stop at my little tienda (that never closes) and picked up some stuff to make a few things to eat.

Hurricane Patricia was billed as the worst storm ever to hit the West Coast.  They predicted winds over 200 miles per hour and said it would drop at least 20 inches of rain.  Puerto Vallarta could be devastated as Cabo San Lucas was two years ago.  Last year was the best "season" in at least five years.  People who normally went to Cabo came here and no one goes to Acapulco anymore as it really is not safe.  Everyone had great hopes for this season, then suddenly it could all end.

When I got back, I received word that the electricity and water would be shut off at 2:00 in the afternoon.  It isn't supposed to hit until 5:00 or 6:00 so why 2:00.  Also, I can understand the electricity because of downed power lines, but why water?  It runs under the streets.  I decided to make up some food and do a little laundry.  I was waiting for the dryer to finish when suddenly it stopped.  At first I thought the lights had been turned off early.  No, the dryer just died!  This was not a good day to hang out laundry to dry.  Then my friend called and said to not only close and lock all window, but to cover them with blinds or drapes to prevent being hurt with flying glass from broken windows.  I peaked out and saw windows covered with plywood or crossed with tape.  Good God!!

I did pull in the furniture on my balcony, but nothing I could do about the furniture on the terrace.  Also with 30 potted plants, all I could do was to try to position them so the wind would do the least damage. I added more boulders to some of the taller plants.  I have nine palms and one rises three feet over an eight foot wall.  I took the plates and hanging ceramic stuff off the wall on the terrace.  I also put out a bucket to catch the rain water.  I have plenty of drinking water, but I wanted plenty of water to flush the toilets.  Luckily I had just purchased five large votive like candles for my party in January.  I placed them around the apartment so I could manage when the electricity went off.  Then I charged up my Sony Reader, so I had something to do and  poured myself a beer.

All the doors were bolted and the drapes closed.  I could not think of anything else I could do to prepare for the hurricane.   At 2:00 I stepped out side and was shocked at what I saw.  There were no moving cars or buses and not a sole.  What was really eerie, there was no noise.  It was absolutely silent.  As I have said before Mexico is a very noisy place.  I had never known it to be so quiet.  Even the church was closed.  Unlike The States were churches take in the homeless during a natural disaster,  here they lock the doors.  If you are not a paying parishioner, you are not welcome.  And of course the ever hateful Telecable cut off my TV cable and my internet.  With no TV and no internet, I had no way to learn where Patricia was, or when she was going to hit us.  Yes, I know, I know,  "If I had a smart phone"  Well I do not !!  So I waited.  It continued to sprinkle a little, but no wind.  Then I heard that it would not hit until nightfall (is that the same as sunset?)  Nothing happened.  The lights stayed on and so did the water.

I wondered where that story came from about cutting off the electricity and water.  You can not believe what you hear in Mexico.  What is passed on as absolute gospel is really just a rumor.  I have never known a town where rumor and gossip are so rampant (well, maybe Palm Springs). At 9.00 the rain got a little heavier.  I poured myself another drink and went up to my deck.  I love sitting there and listening to the rain on the roof of my palapa and watching the rain pour off the roof.  During a heavy rain, it is like sitting under a water fall.  I love it.  But tonight not that much rain and not a breeze.  With all my palms I can tell if there is any breeze at all.  Then about 10:00 a little wind come up (certainly not 200 miles an hour).  I thought,  "Well, here is comes"  Within 20 or 30 minutes the wind stopped and the rain went back to a drizzle.  I got tired of waiting for Patricia and went to bed.  The following morning, the streets were wet, but no puddles, then it started to rain and I thought "Okay, here is come".  No, the rain ceased.  I decided see if Telecable had restored my cable and sure enough, I got CNN news.  Patricia was now in Texas and causes very little damage there as well.  There was nothing on Mexico.  As my friend said, "Once CNN did not see and corpses floating in the water, they dropped the story.  Apparently it hit land in an almost uninhabited area south of us.  There isn't even a road south of Boca de Tomatlan.

Well, another disaster averted.  Now I must put my apartment back together. I unbolted the door to my terrace and decided I wasn't ready put all the plants and furniture back in place.  Also I noticed there was about three inches of water in my bucket.  A bucket is not a good rain gauge, but it sure wansn't anything near 20 inches.   But first I had to answer the 20 messages and half a dozen phone calls I got while my internet was out.  It seems I have spent my life trying to avoid another disaster, sometimes I win.  There are no photos as there was noting to photograph.

P.S.  Over a week after the hurricane that never happened, I had just cleaned my apartment.  I start with sweeping and hosing the terrace.  Then sweeping and mopping all the tile floors.  That night while lying in bed reading, a heavy wind came up.  It got so bad, I got up and closed the sliding glass door to my bedroom.  Later that night I went upstairs with my nightly glass of Scotch and it looked like someone had emptied a bag of trash on my stairs.  For some reason wind on my deck goes into a spin and throws all the trash down the stairs and into my kitchen.  Once arriving at my terrace, I found four palm trees had blown over and my lime tree.   One knocking a branch off my price crown of thorns and another knocking over my Boston fern and my maiden hair fern.  I decided there was nothing I could do that night, so I simple sat there and finished my Scotch.  As I said, I do not win all my battles.


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TELECABLE EL TERRIBLE

A friend of mine once wrote me that anyone who read my blog would never consider living in Mexico and might never want to even visit.  This was certainly not my intent, however this blog will certainly enforce that opinion.  There are many things that I enjoy about living in Mexico (it is warm and cheap).  Most all of the people are wonderful and I love sitting under a palapa at a table and chair just a few feet from the waves while sipping a pina colata or just getting drunk at one of my local bars, but this would not make for very interesting reading.  Frustration is much more fun to write about, so here goes another story about Telecable.  Why do I write so much about Telecable?  Well, because it is such a "fun" company to do business with (fun translating as frustrating)

One night the internet stopped working.  This happens frequently but usually cures itself in a few hours or maybe one day.  The second day it was still off so the following morning I called Telecable. Amazingly they answered on my first call.  I later learned this was a one in a thousand chance.  I had already decided it was the modem and told them I needed a new one.  The woman told me there would be a technician there by 3:00.  Knowing how unreliable these appointments are, I decided not to leave the house the entire day.  No one showed up, so by late afternoon I started calling again.  You get a recording telling you "push 1 for Spanish, push 2 for English.  Once you push 2 another message comes on and then it goes to  a series of recordings all in Spanish.  After a dozen calls I realized that they were asking me to leave my telephone number for a call back.  This I did at least 6 times.  Nothing!!  That night (while getting drunk at my local bar) I was telling everyone that I had had no internet for 3 days.  Everyone agreed that Telecable was terrible and suggested I just take the modem into the office and exchange it for another.  This I did early the next morning.  They not only claimed that they did not exchange modems at the office and did not even have any in the office (this I later found out to be a lie).  I thought about telling her that everyone at the bar said you could trade in the modems, but decided against it.    But it did make me ponder, why is it that drunks are always offering advise about things they know nothing about.

I told her that I needed a technician and had an order number for one.  She looked at me and said,  "But you only reported the problem 24 hours ago"  She had this incredulous look on her face like if you expected someone in 24 hours you are either insane or have not lived in Mexico for very long.  I told her that I was told someone would be there at 3:00 yesterday.  She said  "Well, they were wrong" I explain that I had to have an estimated time when they would arrive. Since I cannot hear the door bell if I am in my bedroom with the television on, I had to stay in my living room.  This also meant I could not use my air conditioning in my bedroom and the summer heat has returned.   After many protests she called someone and said they would be there at 10:00 the following morning.

This was good news as I had bridge that day.  All summer we have had a problem getting the minimum of eight people to play duplicate bridge.  Mid way through the tournament, my phone rang.  Now during the winter when all the heavy hitters are here I would not even dare answer it, but I was among friends, so I did.  Although the woman was speaking rapid Spanish I did determine that it was Telecable calling.  I handed the phone to someone who is bilingual and he told me that the technician was in front on my house.  Everyone agreed that I should run the one block back to my home, for they all knew what it was like to deal with Telecable.  The modem was still in the bag I had taken it in to the office.  I told him it was not working as the little lights were not flashing.  He (of course) decided to reassemble it only to discover I was correct.   Finally he sent his assistant out to get a new modem.  He attached it.  Then he made a few calls and then did something else with his Ipad and then sat back and stared at it.  I asked what was happening and he said it had to download and that could take 10 or 15 minutes.  I had 7 people waiting for me and told him that if he could assure me that this modem would work, he could leave.  I rushed back to bridge.

When I got home, I found that I still did not have internet.  I think I told you that without internet I have no communication with the outside world, as well as all the searches ones does.  Plus I do banking, pay bills and also play tournament bridge on the internet, so a week without it is a long time.  I made several more calls but got the same message (in Spanish) that they were busy.  By the way the recording also says "this conversation may be recorded for quality assurance".  I thought if I actually got a real person on this line they would definitively not want a recording of the conversation especially for "quality assurances"  Of course it might be used in a libel suit for slander, but they do not have such suits here.  Probably because one would be very hard pressed to think of something really horrible to say about Mexican businesses that would not actually be true.

The following day, I took the bus back to Telecable.   Finally I did get to speak to someone who said they would reboot the modem from the head quarters.  I said what if it does not work?  She promised me she would call in one hour.  She did not and it was not working,  so I took the bus back.  They did not care.  All the screaming and yelling I did, was to no avail.  There was nothing to do but go home and wait.  The next day a man did arrive and without touching the modem asked about my television.  I told him it still worked although poorly. He went through a few channels and pronounced that the problem was the cable and he left.  You would expect someone else to arrive, but after sitting in my living room until 8:00 at night I went back to the bar.  I waited all day long on Saturday and then noticed someone climbing the pole across the street.  I ran out and asked if they were Telecable.  They were and they were putting in a new line.  The next thing I noticed is that they were gone and I still had no internet.  Surely they would send someone to my home.


Sunday was a loss, but surely someone would come by on Monday.  No!  Luckily I do read a lot, but still I did not like having to spend a whole week siting in my living room without being able to leave ( and no air conditioning).  So I decided I needed some help and called my Spanish tutor and asked him to go with me the following day.  He showed up about ten minutes after our agreed time which is very good for Mexico.  We took the bus and I was hot and sweaty and in a very bad mood.  Ivan tried his best, but I could see that he was being stonewalled by the girl just like I was.  I had had enough.  I began screaming and pounding on the counter and refusing to leave or stop until I got some answers. Yes, everyone was staring at me, but I figured they were also Telecable clients, so I was sure they would understand.  Ivan plodded on in his very polite way.  I don't know whose act worked best but finally we were allowed to talk to someone in Guadalajara.  He promised he would call and give Ivan some instructions within one hour.  I had very little hope that anything would happen, but I chose Ivan for he used to have his own computer store and he knew what to say.

We went home, had a couple beers and believe it or not, the guy did call (not one hour later, but two hours later).  He had Ivan open their web site and do all sorts of stuff I do not understand.  I also got a new "password"  (did not know I needed one).  It began to come back, slowly at first but it got better.  The Guadalajara guy was very upset with what Ivan was telling him and took notes on the shoddy service. Will anything change  Not in Mexico.  I had planned on talking to TelMex about their internet service, but Ivan told me to wait for AT & T is supposed to have bought TelMex and they should be here in Puerto Vallarta soon.  Since TelMex works through a phone line, a new one would have to be installed.  About one year ago a branch on the tree across the street broke off in a storm and took the phone line with it.  It was never replaced and the broken line is still wrapped around the bottom of the telephone pole.

.  So we will see what TelMex has to say, but that will be a whole new story, I am sure.

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