MARDI GRAS EN PUERTO VALLARTA

They say that Mexico is 98% Catholic.  Well maybe, but I only know one Mexican who regularly attends mass.  They will tell you that they are Catholic, but most only visit a church for a christening, marriage, or a funeral.  But that does not mean that they shun all the holidays.  Mexicans love any excuse to party and get drunk.  Now Christmas is mostly spent at home with families, but the first twelve days of December celibrate The Virgin of Guadalupe with parades and parties.  Easter is the  biggest holiday going on for two weeks.  Santa Semana is the week before Easter when Mexicans flood into the coastal towns for a week of beach, drinking and partying.  The following week is when the wealthy Mexicans come to Vallarta.  No, I have no idea why.  My personal favorite is The Festival of Santa Cruz.  It is supposed to be 10 days but often lasts longer.  My street is closed to traffic and a carnival is set up with kiddy rides and booths.  There are candle light vigils,  Indians in colorful costumes dancing in the street.  Now, what the Indian dances have to do with the Holy Cross no one has explained to me.  It ends with a four story fire cracker.

Mardi Gras is a Catholic celebration although I do not know what the Vatican's official stance is on all the revelry.  In Vallarta it is mostly a gay event, almost like Gay Pride week.  It is certainly not Rio or New Oleans, but it is a very fun celebration. The parade is of made up  of floats of balloons on trucks, or crepe paper on cars consists mainly of half nude men and drag queens.  I can only imagine what the Vatican would think, if they saw Puerto Vallarta on Mardi Gras.  Our previous mayor also had a dim view of the festivities and decided he wanted it to be a "family friendly" event.  "Family friendly Mardi Gras ?  Really !!  He discouraged the gay participation and moved the parade strictly to the Malecon.  It was a disaster! This was the same corrupt  mayor who completely emptied the city treasury before leaving office.  Our current mayor took office with no money to pay anything.  The trash collector threatened to stop picking up the garbage on the street, so the mayor fired 75% of the police department in order to have money for the trash collection.  A smart move in my opinion.  The police are so corrupt, they do little to enforce the law anyway.  You may think this is an awful situation, but personally I like living in a country where you can buy your way out of almost any problem.

The parade route for Mardi Gras has never been closed to all other traffic and this year with almost no police, it was even more hectic.  People just trying to get home or to dinner get caught up in the parade.  For the most part they are good natured about it, and roll down their windows and wave to the crowd.  It starts at the Sheraton Hotel downtown winding it was across the river and ends on Olas Altos.  This year they said Thirty Thousands spectators lined the streets and sidewalks for the couple miles of the parade route.  It lasts for about 30 to 45 minutes.

Jennifer was to finish the make up for one of the bartenders who was on the Frida float (really just an open jeep with balloons).  I took a picture of it from the balcony before it left.  I met her upstairs at Fridas  There isn't a downstairs anymore.  The night before the ceiling collapsed.  The bar has been in decline for years.  I only go there to see my friend Filipe.  It happened at one in the morning, so there weren't that many people in the bar. Most were seated at tables (probably no longer able to stand).  One  poor sole was at the bar when the fan fell on the bar.  He interned on crutches and left in an ambulance.  I was told it was his first night in Vallarta and while certainly memorable, I doubt he will return.  No one else was hurt that badly, just some cuts and bruises from the falling plaster.  When Filipe saw the fan fall on the bar he went out from behind the bar to shut off the electricity just when the ceiling came down.  Always a little excitement here.  Two days later The City closed it down and condemned the whole building until repairs were made.  My poor friend Filipe is now out of a job,

We then went down to a new bar that opened on a corner with a good view of the parade route.  There must have been over 100 people packed into a bar smaller than my living room.  Most spilled out onto the side walk.  There are no laws against drinking anywhere, but you could not take glass outside the bar.  I still have trouble with night photos, but managed to get in between some people to get a few shots.  Each year it gets bigger and better and attracts more and more people.  Once it was over I left Jennifer there and headed home.  By this time she was dancing in the street and she later told me that from there, they went up to La Noche's roof top garden and then back to Fridas.  I would have passed out by then. From my recent blogs you must think that we have a party every week. Sadly sometimes it seems so to me too.

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AOL.COM UGH ! (NO TRANSLATION)

When living in a foreign country, the internet is essential.  You need it to handle finances, pay bills, make travel reservations, and mostly for communication.  Yes, I do have a Magic Jack phone line, when the internet is working.  I have already told you of all the problems with dealing with Telecable.  To further the chaos, there is AOL.COM.  For forty or fifty years, I have used AOL for my email account.  Every morning, I check it and usually one or more times a day.  For all these years, all I had to do was click on "Mail" and there were my messages (as long as I was using my own computer) Since I have friends around the globe, that is the only way I can keep in touch with people.  The postal system here is so bad that even the Government Utility companies won't use it.  They send their employees to each house to deliver the bill every other month.  A friend in The States once sent me a Christmas card, and I did get it.  IN MARCH!!   Although I do have a Mexican phone, most  of my "snow bird" friends to not, so they use email to communicate while they are in Mexico.

For the past many months, when I try to log on AOL they want me to sign up again.  First they ask for my user name.  Once I type that in the "password" automatically pops up.  But when I click "sign in", it rejects the password.  I did not type it in, AOL put it up.  How could it be wrong?  So you click on "forgot password", but the problems just starts there.  They want to send me a new password to my cell phone or an alternate email account.  Well, of course they cannot send it to the only email account I have because it won't open.  But I do not have an alternate email account, nor do I have a cell phone in the United States.  It will not accept my Magic Jack number because it does not take text messages.  I have tried my Mexican cell phone, but it has too many digits, so I am stuck.  Nothing to do but to click on "Help".  They take you through of series of possible problems, none of which is any help to me, while they also try to sell you new programs.

You have to page through reams of stuff before they finally offer a phone for "custom service"  What a misnomer that is!  I have files for everything  including one for AOL where I had written down a telephone number for them, but of course it was disconnected.  I have also written down all the different passwords they have made me come up with, but none are any good.  So I call the new number and wait, and wait and wait.  Finally someone for whom English is obviously not their native tongue (I think India or maybe Pakistan)   Of course I was not in a good mood having been trying to get to my mail for nearly an hour.  Apparently she did not like my tone of voice because she hung up on me.  (Or maybe it was when I apologized for not speaking Farsi)


The next time  I try to be a little more civil.  After explaining my problem with no alternate email or an American cell phone, she gives me a temporary password.  It is all caps, but my user name is lower case.  So it takes me a few attempts to get it right.  Then it wants a new password (typed twice, why I do not know)  I type in my usual password and they say they cannot accept it as they already have it on record.  Well then Why in the Hell did it not work??  So I come up with a variation of the number which I immediately wrote on my AOL file.  Once it opened I asked her again why this is necessary every few months.  She said it was for my own security.  Security for what?  I am not accessing my bank accounts or credit cards.  It is just stupid email (most of it spam).  It is not as if I carry secret classified documents on it.  Then she said that I must have a "bug" and for $4.99 a month they can fix that. AHA!!  Now I know why they are doing this.  They want to start charging me for what is supposed to be a free account.  Who ever said, "follow the money" knew what they were talking about.  I think it was Deep Throat (no not Linda Lovelace)

So, for the time being I have email again and can get and receive messages.  Of course this very blog was set up over 5 years ago as a way of letting my friends around the globe follow my life in Mexico with my having to write each one of them (another example of my laziness).  But I now have more readers than I have friends (dead of alive).   My blog server has a stat mode they tells me how many readers I have per day and per month. This month it shows 330 readers (more people than friends than I have had in my life. .  A map of the world lights up from light green to dark green depending how many readers I have in that country.  According to the map, I have more readers in Alaska, Russia and China than any country except The U.S.  Who are you?  Not to dismiss my Alaskan readers, but I am most interested in China and Russia.  One would think I would be banned in those countries.  Or, maybe Putin and Xi Jinping actually encourage readers to my blog as an example of the decadence of us Capitalist Pigs!   I would love to hear from you.  A few of my friends send me comments, but not many.  Don't be afraid to expose your email account.  You know I do not sell anything on my blog and I promise not to barrage you with stupid email jokes (too lazy for that).
With that in mind ......

Hasta Lluego!

lagunalary@aol.com

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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