EL DIA DE LOS MUERTOS

Halloween is a rather new phenomenon in Vallarta.  Probably started by the gringos and drag queens; but about 5 or 6 years ago the kids picked up on it.  Now it is a huge holiday.  The kids do not go from house to house, but bar to bar.  Mostly along the Malecon.  For those of you who are a new reader and unfamiliar with Vallarta, the Malecon is a wide street that runs right along the water front in old Town.  Most of it was turned into a pedestrian only street about four years ago.  Although it is a tourist attraction and the restaurant, shops and bars that line one side of the street are mostly for tourist, most of the people there are Mexican.  Families love to stroll along the beautiful street in the evenings,  so it was a perfect place for the kids on Halloween.

I reserved a table at the Cheeky Monkey that was right on the balcony.   Jennifer went in costume, I did not,  When someone asked why I did not, I told them that I was in costume.  I was dressed up like an old man (they just stared at me).  We got the corner table so we could not only watch everything but throw candy off the balcony.  I bought four huge bags at Costco and in less than two hours, we were out of candy.  The food is barely passable, but the drinks are cheap and it was a perfect spot to see the passing parade.  Thousands of people milled about, many in costume, but some just begging for candy.  It was so much fun.  Unfortunately my camera is afraid of the dark and refuses to take good pictures after sunset (especially at a distance).  We took a cab there planning to walk back along the Malecon and I thought I could get some good shots there.  There were also huge paper mache statues along the street but guess what.  The battery had already died.  Sorry!

The Day of the Dead was an old Aztec tradition for honoring the dearly departed.  The Indians had it in May but the Catholics changed it to the 1st and 2nd of November to coincide with the Catholic All Saints Day.  Yes I know that is two or three days if you count Halloween, but is still called the "Day" of the Dead.  Hey! it is Mexico!  It is not supposed to be scary like Halloween but a reverent day to morn family members who have died.  Families will erect altars in their homes and two side of the City Hall are dedicated to shrines of both family members and some famous Mexican people.  City Hall is called the Presidential Palace for reasons only know to Mexicans.  If you asked a cab driver to take you to City Hall, he would have not idea what you wanted.  The ground around the shrine is covered with mosaic squares of different colored materials (dated back to the Aztecs).   They use lots of colored paper, flowers and always food for the dead.  There is a traditional Day of the Dead bread, but they will also add others that the deceased liked to eat (sometimes even a cup or coffee or a bottle of Tequila).  Of course there are lots of flowers (both real and fake).  Unfortunately for you, there are no photos.  My camera battery was dead that night.  I had planned on returning the following day to take photos, but was too tired and lazy.

However Jennifer, Vickie and I did visit the cemetery the next day.  I had been there before (I wrote a blog on it three years ago) but they had never visited the cemetery.  It is a hoot!  The square in front had all kind of stalls selling drinks, food, and lots of decorations for the graves.  All the graves are cleaned and covered in flowers and decorations.  Family is very important in Mexico (well, that and using any excuse to party).  The cemetery had been full for years, so families return to honor people who died a long time ago.  I did notice one tomb that had not been cleaned.  It was black and the marker had been knocked over and was broken.  I guess the entire family must be deceased.  I also notice that most graves are marked by large slabs of marble or sometimes small buildings but some had only a very small stone cross with a plastic Jesus marking the spot (must have been a very poor family).  After touring the cemetery we joined the festivities in the park.  Lots of people had painted faces and some were in costume.   Most of the women (and some drag queens) dress as La Catrina.  She had become the symbol of Dead of the Dead.  She consists of the skeleton of a woman in very rich clothing.  She was originally designed as a cartoon to mock the vanities of the rich.

They had a parade that was really fun to watch.  At the head was a huge paper mache  skeleton riding a bicycle.  Lots of bands, horses and people in all sorts of odd costumes.  One rider held a very small screaming child in one hand and had a beer in the other.  (Don;t you just love Mexico?)  There were mariachi bands, but must appeared to be high school bands.  All of them playing at once (but playing different songs creating a calliope of sound).  The crowd screamed and yelled their approval and everyone had a great time (most of them drinking beer).  Mexico is a crazy fun place to live.  Life is never dull here.  I love it!

LAS PARRAS (VINES)

We are not talking about grape vines or vineyards here, for we are back in Mexico.  After four years of living in this apartment, I decided what I really needed was some sort of a vine to trail along the wrought iron railing on my terrace.  I have the "jungle" vine that comes up from three stories below that I train across the beam that supports my cabana.  I love the look, but it dies back each year so I have to cut it back and wait for the summer rains for it to sprout again.  I did not know what kind of vine to buy, but I wanted something that would remain green all year, and preferable have some sort of flowers. 

One day Filipe was taking me on some errands and we were to stop at the nursery on our way home.  No one speaks any English at the PTL nursery and I did not even know the Spanish word for "vine".  So Filipe spoke to the guy who led us to an area of all kinds of vines.  I already had some to the yellow vine that is everywhere here and have not had great luck with it. There is an orange vine but it seems to consume what ever it is up against.  Then I spotted the one with bell shaped flowers in a pale violet color.  I had admire the vine before.  The man assured me that while they can drop leaves and dry out, if I kept them watered they would stay green.  We will see.   So bought two of them, at a cost of 30 pesos a piece.  The dollar is now almost 20 to 1.

I already had two smaller pots left over from some replanting a did a few months ago.  I really did not want to buy new pots.  The large plastic ones are 175 pesos a piece (for a 30 peso plant).  You can buy the hand made clay pots for less, but they are too heavy for me,  They also deteriorate after a few years because they are not fired, they are sun baked. So I used the two smaller pots.  I did tell you that I am cheap (well when you try to live on $2,000 a month, you have to be frugal).  Once potted they immediately sprang forth and began to twine around the wrought iron.  Perfect! I thought, so now I wanted to get rid of the bougainvillea.  Filipe said he would like them for their balcony.  I told him they were extremely heavy especially after all the rain we have had.  I told him to wait until we went a couple of days with not rain.  Once we had a few dry days, he called and said he would like to pick them up.  I was shocked when I saw he was alone with only his wife and little boy with him.  I told him he would need more help.  No! he could do it alone.  He grabbed the plant my the trunk with one hand and held the bottom of the pot with the other.  Mind you these plants are full of sharp thorns.  But ignoring that he carried them down two flights of stairs.  I will not walk down those stairs without using the hand rail, but both his hands were occupied.  It still amazes me what Mexicans can do, especially when they are as big as Filipe.

I liked the openness without the bougainvillea and I did not have to put up with being stabbed by the awful thorns.   Bougainvilleas have been planted everywhere by the Vallarta Garden Club and they even have a bougainvillea festival each year.  Fine it you do not have to live with them.  Then I thought I had made a mistake in my cheapness by using pots too small.  As rapidly as they were growing I knew in time they would out grow the pots and I would have to water them daily.  So with gritting teeth, I bought two new pots.  When I originally planted them, I put sheep shit in the bottom, thinking that as the roots reach down, they would like the extra nourishment. ( If  you want to know what "sheep shit" is scroll back six or seven months when I wrote a whole posting on it.)  But the plants had not really established themselves and when I tried to move them to the new pots the soil fell away exposing the new tiny roots.  Apparently I grabbed a gob of sheep shit and hurriedly packed it around one of the plants.  It immediately wilted and  is spite of daily watering, continued to die back.  It was being burned up by the fertilizer.

Everything died except one tiny shoot.  I knew in time it would recover and put out new shoots but I am impatient (one of my many faults, and besides, I do not have a lot of time left).  So I decided to buy another one.  Actually I wanted to buy two more so one would cover the railing and one would grow up to the wrought iron trellis between me and my neighbors balcony.  In four years I have only seen them twice on the balcony, but I really like my privacy.  I pay Filipe 300 pesos to drive me around to my errands (normally making at two or three stops).  But I did not need anything expect the plant.  It seemed ridiculous to spend 300 pesos to buy a 30 peso plant (yes, I know I am cheap).  So I set off on the local bus (an experience that deserves it's own posting).

I prefer the PTL nursery.  "PTL" is what we call Pitilal (a poor suburb of Vallarta) where most of the Mexicans live as it is much cheaper (No! I have no desire to live there).  But I had no idea how to get there by bus and the Costco bus stops right in front of the other nursery.  I explained what I was looking for and the girl led me to the area for vines.  They do speak a little English here but I still do not like the place.  The plants were horrible looking scrawny things eaten up by caterpillars.  I found two that I thought I might be able to save, but as I was headed to the cash register I realized the not only was something crawling on my hands and arms, but something was biting me as well.  I dropped the plants and screamed as I spotted hundreds of termite all over me and the plant..  They were eating the wood stake, but living in the soil.  I had no idea termites bite (but they do chew wood).  I guess they were mad and the bites hurt.  Now, my skin is very old and my hands are riddled with blue veins and covered in liver spots.  With all the sun they have turned into old leather, but I did not think they could be mistaken for wood!

The woman who runs the joint came running out from behind her desk and poured some fluid over the plants.  I said,  "No way, I do not want them and would certainly not take them into my home"  She sent the girl scurrying for new ones.  I really wanted to leave, but I was already there and she did bring out two plants that although sick looking had no termites.  After carefully inspecting them, I handed her a 100 peso note.  She looked at in and indicated that it would be sufficient (like she was doing me a favor)  I said,  "Hold on here, they are 30 pesos at the PTL nursery and for what I have been through they should be free."  She let me have the two for 60 pesos and I headed out to flag down a taxi.  I had brought two black garbage bags to carry them in, but could not handle them on a bus.  As it happened a taxi pulled right up.  I did notice the man was blind in one eye and the other one was reduced to a small slit.  Still if he wasn't qualified they wouldn't let him drive.  Right?  Wrong!  I have been told that most taxi drivers are ex cons as no one else will hire them.  There is no test for taxi drivers here.  HEY!  IT'S MEXICO!

We had just pulled onto Highway 200 when the car sputtered and began moving in lurches.  He changed to neutral and raced the motor.  Back in gear it sputtered and lurched again.  All the while he is patting the dash board saying "Mi chica" (which is girl friend in Mexico).  He made several stops and then we were approaching the tunnel.  I thought of getting out each time we stopped but my plants were locked in his trunk. .  He pulled over just in front of the tunnel racing the motor and muttering "mi chica"  I was terrified of it dying in the tunnel.  Yes, I know any sane person would have leaped out and fled leaving the plants behind.  (Well??).  We slowly crept into the tunnel.  If it stopped  (which is illegal in the tunnel) it would cause a major crack up of cars.  If I survived the crash, no taxi would stop to pick me up in the tunnel.  I would have to crawl to the end hoping I was not sucked under a speeding truck by centrifugal force.  The tunnel is scary to drive through let alone try to walk through.  If I made to the other side carrying two garbage bags I would look like a bag lady (make that a bag man)

Some how we made it through and after the tunnel it is all down hill so he could coast most of the way.  He asked for 80 pesos (it should have been 60) but I gave him 100 thinking he needed it more than I do and I was so happy to arrive home safely.  I have planted them and trying to train it up the wall by using that fishing wire I use for everything.  As you can see the older plant is thriving and has already passed one of the concrete pillars.  The other three look as pitiful as they did when I brought them home.  But I am hoping with a little care they will recover.

SEBASTAPOL

"No Toto, we are not in Mexico"  Sebastapol is a small town in Northern California in Sonoma county, next to the Napa Valley (both are the wine country, but Sonoma is coastal).  Because I allowed my residency card to expire four years ago, I have to leave Mexico every six months.  It just became such a hassle dealing with the Immigration office here that I gave up.  The last time took me eight trips.  Then they changed the immigration laws so now you have to start in The U.S, so it would be impossible for me, as I am never there long enough.  So twice  year, I go somewhere (usually to Laguna).  But my lawyer where I had been staying in his guest house sold it and moved.  Also the car rental costs me almost twice what my plane ticket is.  So when my friends from San Francisco invited me to their place, I jumped at the chance.

They were to meet me at the airport in San Francisco and we would drive to Sebastapol.  I arrived at the airport in Vallarta two hours early (I always do) just to find out that the plane was delayed over an hour. I panicked and had a fit at the Alaska airline counter.  To my amazement, they agreed to call my friends in San Francisco.  But I did not have their number.  I had their Mexican phone and mainly used email to communicate, but I also did not have my computer.  The good news was that they have built a very attractive bar outside the terminal (where you can smoke).  I met a nice couple who were on the same plane to S.F.  After explaining my problem they tried to get into my email with an Ipod.  No luck! Then when the plane arrived late it got in just after a 747 from China.  Immigration took almost one hour (and I thought LAX was bad).  Fortunately my friends are not as dumb as I am and knew the plane was late.

Even though it was now about 9:00 at night, the traffic was almost at a standstill.  It took us hours to reach their summer home in Sonoma.  The area is totally rural and the homes are all on one or more acres.  Their home is two stories with four bedrooms (master on the bottom) so I had the top floor to myself.  Two sides of the house has a huge red wood deck overlooking the valley and vineyards.  We spent a lot of time just sitting on the deck and drinking (I was smoking) Although the kitchen had already been remodeled with lots of granite, they have plans to completely change the first floor.  I thought it was lovely just as it was.  The first morning was foggy (that is the sort of purple photo you see).  From then on, it was clear and very hot (but no humidity)   In front of the little fish pond is a huge pool.  They are also adding an additional four car garage for Jeff collects and restores old cars.They look brand new, inside and out.  I especially liked the Lincoln Mark III

Although their address is Sebastapol, they are closer to a little town called Graton.  A charming little town that looks like something out of an Old West movie (except for the cars).  We had dinner there one night. They also toured me around the area for several hours taking me along the Russian River where they used to own a condo.  The Russian River area is mostly redwoods and quite beautiful.

The area is devoted to wine, with vineyards everywhere.  Although years ago it was apple country as evidenced by the lone apple tree on their property.   They have a wine club membership in one vineyard where we stopped and sampled wine while sitting in a picnic area next to the grape vines.  It was lovely and the wine was good (but not cheap!)  The next day we also went to another small wine tasting in Graton.  I love wine and drink a lot, I am just not a wine connoisseur.  Then we took a long walk through the woods, passing vineyards.  It is mostly oak, pine trees and some redwoods (no palm trees)  It was decided that the last night we should drive back into San Francisco because I had a 10:30 flight in the morning.  They said the usual commuter traffic in the morning could take us four hours and we would have to leave before 4:30am.  I was just as glad as I got to see their place in San Francisco.  It is in an old Victorian, but totally redone and gorgeous with a small deck and fern garden in the back yard.   Unfortunately I could not get good pictures.  Photography is not my forte, so forgive me. All in all it was a wonderful relaxing trip and the flight home was without a hitch.  Well, except for my own mistake.  I checked in at one of the little kiosks.  I was surprised when after I paid the ridiculous price of  $26.00 for the checked bag it printed out the bag tag.  Why don't  they charge for the carry on bags.  They cause delays in boarding and deplaning.   The screen said "proceed to boarding"  I did and was half way through security when I realized I still had my bag.  The TS A people were not happy when I tried to get out of security.  I had to check my bag as I carry tooth paste too large to pass security.   As nice as the trip and the visit was, I am always very happy to be back home in Mexico.

It was not such a good time for kitty.  When I first thought about my trip, I decided to take her to the vet and let him keep her for the time I am gone.  He could "fix" her and check her out, give shots, whatever she needed.  So I went to arrange it with my local vet.  He did not want to keep her.  He said he already was boarding three dogs and it would not be a good idea.  I peeked around the corner and saw this tiny room with cages.  Kitty has never been confined in a house, let alone a cage.  She would go crazy even without the dogs.  So I decided that it would be best just to leave her here on her own.  She managed for the year or two before I met her.  Her sister does just fine living under the fish taco stand next door (well that, plus what she steals from kitty).  Her sister can share now.  But I still needed to get her "fixed".  I made an appointment with the vet to take her in at 9:00 and pick her up at 3:00.  Jennifer loaned me her carrying case for her dog so I placed it in the living room so kitty could get used to it.  Being the curious cat that she is, as soon as she spotted it she headed over, sniffed it and climbed in and laid down.  Wonderful!  But I could not give her any food after 8:00 the previous night, so that morning I left her on the balcony screaming.  After 8:00 I decided to get her in the cage.  Sure enough, she went right in.

But, I had never tried to attach the door before.  It has a hinge and two locks.  I could not get one of the locks closed.  Since I still had to shower and shave, I just pushed the cage up against a heavy chest I have.  She screamed so much that I closed the door to the bathroom.  Not too long later, she stopped screaming.  Good! I thought,  But when I opened the bathroom door, I found that kitty had opened the door and pushed herself away from the chest.  This time she was not anxious to get back inside.  Her four paws were splayed with all claws out.  Some how I manged to get her in and finally lock the door.  I dropped her off at the vet, but a few hours later he called.  I panicked!  Did she die on the operation table, or maybe she was really a boy?  No, it seems that she had already been "fixed"  By whom and when?  I told him I would be right down.  He said she was already sedated and not to come by until after 3:00.  She was still extremely groggy and when I opened the cage, she had trouble standing up.  Her back legs were not functioning.  He said the sedation would only last a few hours, but four hours later she was still staggering.  She kept screaming and pacing back and forth by the sliding glass doors.  She wanted out.  I could not let her onto the balcony as she has to jump three feet to reach the rail, or five feet to reach the hole in the wrought iron to get to the apartment next door,  Had I planned this better, maybe I should have got a kitty liter box and a bed for her.  But I had not, so I took her down to the front door.  She looked warily around (like she had no idea where she was) but eventually got across the sidewalk and under a car.  I thought this may be the last I see of her.  The following morning there she was waiting for her food.  She acted like nothing had happened and was just as affectionate as ever.  Did she really not remember, or was the desire for food over powering her judgement.  Who knows?

I fed her quite a bit the last day.  She is getting so fat, she could probably go for several days without eating (not that she would like it).  I was afraid that this would be the final straw and kitty would vanish before I got back.  But there she was waiting on the balcony in the blazing afternoon sun.  She was hungry, but otherwise acted like nothing had happened.  Maybe they really have no memory.  But then, my memory is not was it once was, so we make a perfect pair.

LOS INSECTOS Y LOS PESTICIDAS (PESTICIDES)

When you live surrounded by a jungle, one might expect there would be insects.  (and you would be correct)  They come in all variations and sizes here.  Some are really scary like the "jungle spider".  It has a leg span of 6 to 8 inches and is hairy.  A couple of years ago, I wrote a posting about the one I found in my bathroom in the middle of the night.  The most insidious is the mosquito.  Now, I understand the ecological reasons for bees, flies, ants, and even termites, but why in Hell did God create the mosquito?  In Vallarta they are so tiny people call them the "no seeums".  They are smaller than a gnat and make no noise.  There is no buzzing sound to alert you.  Not only do they bite like Hell, but carry all kinds of diseases.  Denge fever is the worst.  I know many people have become extremely ill with it, although I know no one who has died of it.  The Zika virus is just beginning to appear here (coming down to us from The U.S,)


Every four to six months, I call Allen to spray my apartment. He sprays the floors, walls and ceilings, and then sprays the balcony and my entire terrace which is huge.  He charges 250 pesos and it takes him two hours.  He is a nice kid (who does speak English) and also mops the entire place when he is done spraying,  so I started giving him 300 (about $18.00) .  This year I waited too long.  I think the cat food had something to do with, but I had ants everywhere.  The ants come in three sizes.  So tiny you can only see them on a white surface, the regular ants, and then huge black and red ants that I really hate.  Kitty used to gobble everything I gave her, but now that she learned she has food on demand (by screaming) she will only eat part of it.  I guess she plans on coming back, but either her sister (the evil twin) will finish it or the ants get it.  I do not know where they come from (maybe I do not want to know) but if a speck of food lands on the floor within minutes they surround it.

The ant guys keeps telling me the stuff is harmless to humans, but then why does he wear a gas mask?  For months any bug that ventures across my floor will start to shake then roll over dead.  How can it be that harmless?  I am sure whatever the stuff is, it is illegal in the U.S. Of course I do not plan on getting down on the floor and licking it.  Even if I could get down that low, I would not be able to get up.  It kills bugs big and small and unfortunately I will lose a few small geckos after he sprays.  We have more than ants here.  One day kitty crossed the balcony railing with a cockroach in her mouth (it obviously came from my neighbor)  She dropped it in front of me.  Did she think I wanted it, or was she just trying to show me she could be useful.  The following day after the spraying, not one ant appeared around her food.

Bees come in three varieties also.  The regular honey bees, a small skinny black bee and a strange large blue bee.  Not really sure what it is, but it acts like a bee around flowers,   I had also noticed that I seemed to have more wasps buzzing around my terrace.  Then Saul pointed out a wasp next hanging in the back yard on a small tree.  For the photo I did not want to get too close, so you have to look hard to see it  It looks like a strange fruit right next to the trunk of the tree.  I wanted to see if I could get a photo with the sun hitting it, but apparently the wasps built it where it is always in a shadow,

 Most evening you will hear the katydids or crickets (especially during the rainy season)  They will be joined in song by a tiny frog that sounds like a piccolo.  As soon as we get the first rains, the termites swarm.  For weeks I will be sweeping up the wings.  Where do the bodies go, if all I find are wings?  They attack any piece of wood they can find, especially my Mexican equilapli furniture.  But the bug man gets them too. We also have what they call "rain flies"  It looks like as black termite and swarm just like they do.  You will see them clustered around any light burning (another mess to clean up)  I mentioned the huge green grasshopper that can devour a whole palm frond in a day.  Also there are many other strange creatures that I do not know the name of.  Like the tiny ugly brown bug that has eyes that glow in the dark.  They look like blue aqua jewels. At night we also have huge black moths. What amazes me is how few flies we have.  Southern California has far more flies.  I think the iguanas eat them.  By the way, I still sometimes spot my green iguana crawling along the wall.

My plants are like my children and I take very good care of them.  With all the rain and humidity my big pink plants were invaded with something that looked like tiny aphids.  My regular spray did not work.  I would wash each leaf, then spray and the following morning they were covered with the bugs,  So I called Filipe to take me to El Dragon where all kinds of chemicals are sold.  They speak no English so I had Filipe explain the problem and I had brought some leaves with the bugs on them in a sealed plastic bag.  The man ruminated about it for a while saying things I did not understand to Filipe who translated some of it.  Finally he came up with two bottles.  He was explaining how to mix them in the sprayer.  One and a half milliliter of one bottle and a cap of the other in a liter of water.  What is "one milliliter"?  They tried to explain to me and finally Filipe said we would stop at a pharmacy and pick up a syringe.  Then the bill came 480 Pesos.  I was shocked and sure I did not understand.  I have never paid anything like that in Mexico.  He explained that he could sell me a cheaper pesticide, but it would kill the plant.  (What would be the point in That?)  He also said that it would last for four or five years.  I saw no need to tell him that I did not have four or five years.  We had just bought two blue blooming vines for my wrought iron that cost 30 pesos, so you can understand how astounded I was.

I was sure the druggist would think I was shooting dope so I sent Filipe in to buy it. (cost 18 pesos) Can you even buy a syringe in the U.S.?  Of course you can buy almost any drug you want at the pharmacy with no prescription.   We also have the farmacia similar stores where they carry all the generic drugs at a fraction of the cost.  Prescription drugs (without prescription) are very cheap.  I have an insurance policy in The States where any drug will cost me $5 to $15, but I can buy it here for $10 with no insurance.  The pharmaceutical lobbyist do not have the control over the government like they do in The State (the drug cartels do).   So anything you cannot buy at the local pharmacy, you can buy on the streets.

I carefully measured out the two chemicals and sprayed away.  It seems to be working, but I do have to continue the spraying.  After about a week and three liters of spray, it seems to be working.  To my delight, the butterflies still feast on my flowers every evening, along with humming birds.  Some how it has no affect on them.  So, my plants are happy; I am happy and my place is almost bug free   What a beautiful life it is.


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LLUVIA EN VERANO (SUMMER RAIN)

This year has been the coolest summer in the six years I have lived here.  Of course we have at least another three months more of summer, so I could change my tune.  Now it is still often down right uncomfortable, but thankfully we have had lots of rain this year. Without the rain, summers in Vallarta would be almost unbearable.  Luckily summer is the rainy season.  Which seems odd to me, but then coming from Southern California, rain seems unusual. This year the rain started late.  June was hot and humid, then the rains started.  Almost every afternoon clouds roll across the sky keeping the blazing sun off my windows. It rains mostly at night.  Many nights this July I did not need to turn the air on.

I love the rains here and not just because it lowers the temperature.  Dust is a constant problem here with the cobble stone streets and all the belching buses.  Rain cleans up the town, not only does the dust almost disappear, but all the foliage gets rinsed and everything is a bright green.  The hills get sort of brown and dusty looking during the winter, but now they are a verdant green.  The tall coconut trees in the picture of my view off the back are at least five or six stories tall.  They were shot from my terrace on the third floor.  Twice a year an old skinny guy climbs up and cuts down the clumps of coconuts.  He used nothing but his feet and a rope around his waist.  He cuts them off with a machete.  But first he wraps a rope around the clump and slowly lowers the coconuts to the ground.  Once they hit he sort of jerks on the rope and it comes free and he pulls it back up.

I love sitting under my cabana (with cocktail) and watch the rain beat down.  Sometimes it pours off my roof like a waterfall.  Now some days  it will just sprinkle which only increases the humidity, but this year we have had lots of downpours.  The rain drops can be the size of a dime.  Since Vallarta has no curb gutters or storm drains, the water all flows down the streets until it reaches the beach or river. You can see how flooded my street gets and I am five block higher above the beach.  You can imagine what the lower streets look like.  I have seen the water up over the curbs and across the sidewalks.  No photos of that as I do not like to go out during those downpours.  I do not mind getting wet, but am terrified to cross a cobble stone street under six or eight inches of water.

You can see how my plants love the rain and how bight and green they all are.  Of course about a half dozen are under the cabana, so they still have to be watered and sprayed.  I love my plants (all 32 of them), but they do take a little work.  Just during the rainy season I do not have to water most of them.  Most nights the clouds come over in the late afternoon and the rain starts around 7 or 8:00.  Sitting under my cabana, I enjoy not just the rain, but the thunder and lightning show.  The lighting can come so rapidly that it looks like the street is being lit by strop lights.  You can tell how far away it is by the time it takes for the thunder to hit. At times the lightning is directly overhead so I hear the loud crack of the lightning with almost immediate thunder.   The clap is so loud it seems to shake the whole building. It is a show unto itself.  We all pray the rains continue, but we also have the hurricane season (September and October) to look forward to.  Oh, yes the electricity might go out.  Usually just for a little while, but that is why we all have candles about.  It never dull here.   Maybe this isn't really paradise here, but in my old age, it seems a perfect place to live out my days.

Kitty does not mind the rain or the thunder.  She keeps dry curled up in a corner of the balcony.  She is quite happy here and rarely strays inside.  She knows I do not like it.  She disappears for a while each day to go to the bathroom on someone else;s property.  Her evil twin

shows up on occasion, but she is afraid of me and runs as soon as she sees me.  Oh, I can be pretty scary  looking, especially in the morning.  One day I spotted her eating the last of kitty's bowl while kitty sat right next to her. She looked up at me with the big blue eyes as if to say, "What's the big deal?  I just invited her  over for tea"  Next she will probably go down on the street and scream "Free lunch on the balcony at 265" and I will have ever stray cat in town on my balcony.  But, like everything else in life, I will deal with that when and "if" it happens.  People in Mexico do not worry about what "might happen"  and I like that way of thinking.

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EL GATO DEL BALCON

As a rule, I do not like to do sequels, especially immediately following.  But I have had many comments from readers about kitty, so I decided to make an exception.  ( Well, that and the fact that nothing of any interest has happened to me in the past month).  When you live in a country like Mexico we call that GOOD NEWS !   It is summer and all the tourists and snow birds have flown home.  No one is left except the Mexican Nationals and us die hard expats.  Every thing moves at a snails pace (actually in Mexico it always moves at a snails pace).  The restaurants, bars and even the streets are almost empty.  It is just too hot to do anything (not that I do much anyway)

Kitty is now a full time resident of my balcony.  She even stays during the hot afternoons, but curls up under one of the palms and fern plants and sleeps.  I am not sure if she stays there all night or not, but she is always at the sliding glass door in the morning.  Her soft little "mew" has turned to a blood curdling scream when she sees me pick up her bowl.  I finally bought a regular plastic pet bowl, but she prefers the hand painted Talevera wear.  Not that she has such great taste, but the pet bowl is too deep and too small for her to put her foot in it.  She will get used to it, I was afraid of breaking my good bowl.

I bought her a cat toy.  It a little ball with feathers: she ignored it.  I guess she never saw a toy before.  I hung it from the balcony railing with plastic fishing line.  As long as I swung it she paid a little attention to it.  She kept grabbing it with her teeth and pulling it.  Finally she broke the line.  It is supposed to have a tensile strength of 70 pounds, but it wasn't strong enough for kitty.   After almost a week, she decided to play with it.  First she tried to eat the feathers on it, but eventually got to rolling it around,  One day it was gone.  I do not know if she hid it or tossed it over the balcony, but it is gone.  She prefers playing with small insects and lizards.  One day she had one of those huge green grasshoppers.  It is about four inches long and can devour a whole palm frond in a matter of hours.  I told her "Good Kitty"  Next she had a little gecko she was toying with.  By the time I saw the poor thing, it was missing its tail and one leg.  Thankfully she finally killed it.  (Cats love to torture small creatures)   Then she dropped a half dead cockroach at me feet.  I stepped on it.  She was not pleased as she was not through with it.


She has become extremely affectionate.  It is almost too much.  She not only rubs against my legs, but rubs her face on my feet.  Sometimes she will jump up on the chair next to me and then cross over the table. She would like to get on my lap but she kneads my thigh with her claws.  Since I am wearing nothing but thin sort of boxer shorts in the morning, I decided this could be quite painful.  So she will nuzzle my arm and look up like she is about to kiss me.  She has also started entering the house more.  When I pick up her food bowl, she will always follow me to the kitchen. (Why do cats insist on moving in front and between your feet when you are walking?)  I am afraid one day of tripping over her.  If my head hit that tile, I could get a concussion.  I have visions of my lying there for days before some one discovers my body with a screaming cat on my chest.

It usually only rains at night, but one morning it was pouring "cats and dogs"  (Now where did that expression come from?)  She was not happy.  She continued to scream at me after she was fed and petted.  Since moving into my world she must think that I am responsible for more than just how much she can eat.  I tried to explain to her that there was nothing I could do about it. But, of course she does not understand English, so she kept on screaming.  She seem pretty content with living on the balcony.  She gets fed, petted, and it is pretty much protected.  Dogs cannot get to her and the only cat that tried to get near I scared away.  If she curls up in a corner, she can even stay dry during a storm.  Sometimes I find her curled up on my chair.  Once while I was busy at the computer she peaked around the door.  Foolishly I put my hand down to pet her.  Not content with that, she jumped up on the desk and walked across my computer.  This will not do!  So I am training her to stay on the balcony.  I do not scold or swat at her, I ignore her.  Not only does she not get fed, or petted inside, but I do not speak to her.  I will walk out to the balcony sit down and pet her.  She seems to be getting the point and rarely ventures inside.

She is now getting quite picky with her food.  She had decided that she does not want the kibble anymore.  I started mashing the canned meat in with the kibble, but she somehow manages to lick off the meat and spit the kibble back in the bowl.  I told her she should look down at all the starving cats down on the street.  They would love to have some of her kibble.  But she does not care (then there is the language barrier as well).  I also bought her some "treats" that are supposed to be like a reward, but she regards them with the same disdain she does for kibble.   Kitty is not my only new resident.  I have a baby iguana living on my roof.  The first 5 or 6 times I saw him, he was silently sitting on the clay tiles at the peak of my laundry room roof.  Then he started moving down my garden wall near the palm trees.  Not knowing what he eats, I put a mango on the roof.  The birds loved it but he never got near it.  Jorge tells me they only eat bugs.  One morning I was busy hosing my deck and did not notice him until he was on the balcony railing next to the door leading to my kitchen.  I really hope he does not enter the house.  I would not want him in my kitchen and kitty would not be pleased either.

 So now, I must think about what our future will be.  (You know that she does not).  What will I do when I go away for a few days to a week.  Will she revert to being a feral cat again?  I do not know anyone who would be willing to feed and pet her twice a day.  The big question is should I find a way to get her to a vet and have her neutered?  I really do not want her to drop a litter of kittens on my balcony. One cat is enough.  I can pick up her up, but doubt she would willing go into a box.  There is a vet here that neuters all animals free.  He is just around the corner, but you must be there by 8:00am for he only takes the first 15 animals.  I am going to ask another regular vet about keeping her over night, checking her out and neutering her in the morning.  She may never speak to me again.

UN GATO POR UNA MASCOTA ? (A CAT FOR A PET?)

There are probably more stray cats in Vallarta than stray dogs.  It might be hard to notice that at first for most Mexicans and "expats" own at least one dog.  Many are not on a leash, in spite of the law (of course Mexicans tend to ignore most laws anyway).  Also you have to take into consideration that cats are much more secretive.  While the dogs are running all over the streets, the cats are hiding somewhere.  There are many organizations to take care of dogs,  There are adoption centers and one group will neuter any stray dog that is brought to them, so there is some control over the dog population.  There may be some organizations for cats, but I am not aware of them.  When I first moved to this apartment there were at least a dozen stray cats living in the acreage behind me.  They were not all one family for some were all white, some all black, and a few looked pure Siamese.  Then there were those that were a mixture of all of the above.  They all seemed to get along and I was hoping they were keeping the rodent population under control.

My "fix it" guy Saul has an office in one corner of the property with a back door that opens into the vast lot.  Otherwise the acreage is surrounded by eight foot brick walls with chained wrought iron gates.  He would occasionally emerge into the property to clean up something or collect the mangoes, avocados  and coconuts from the trees that abound there.  He has always been a sort of care taker to the woman who owns my entire block.  Then he moved his family to an apartment across the street from his shop.  His kids loved it for they now had their own playground to run around in.  Then he bought them some little baby chicks.  Well they grew up into roosters that crow, and hens that lay eggs.  My bedroom in on the front, so I am never bothered by the crowing.  It was not long before I saw tiny chicks running all over the place.  That was when I noticed that there were no longer any cats.  I asked Saul about the cats and he just laughed (that is what Mexicans do when they do not want to answer you)  I figured I was better off not knowing so I let it drop.

There were always cats in the street in front of me, mostly around the two taco stands.  One "alpha male" got my attention as  he slowly saunters across the street paying no attention of people or cars..  He acted like he owned the street and was afraid of nothing and no one.  He will lie down in the street totally unafraid of anyone stepping on him or a car running over him.  Once when a car passed too close to him, he leaned to one side and hissed, as if to say "how dare you invade my space"  When a hapless dog approaches him, he will maybe raise his head off the pavement along with one paw and hiss.  The dog backs away and the cat goes back to sleep.  I used to see him climb the wrought iron gates to the church and go inside late at night.  I assumed that is where he slept.  But the church replaced the wrought iron gates with sold wood doors, so I do not know where he sleeps.  Nor do I know if he was the reason for the new doors.

One morning while sipping my coffee (and smoking) a cat dropped down on my balcony.  She was obviously a daughter of the alpha male for she has the some coloring and the same blue eyes, but she is much smaller.  She seemed surprised to see a human sharing the balcony with her, but after deciding I was not an immediate threat, she curled up in a corner and went to sleep (you can never tell when cats are actually asleep).  I am still not sure how she got to the balcony next door which is about three feet above mine for the apartment has been empty since I have lived here.  She must climb up a tree next to it.  Most mornings she would make an appearance.  I tried speaking to her, but she ignored me (maybe she never learned English)  Always a little wary of me, she would occasionally cautiously cross the balcony railing in front of where I sat.  Finally I decided to try feeding her.  I was making a tuna salad and gave her some.  Next I decided to buy her some cat food.  She would stare at it for a while, then creep toward the food.  She still would not let me near her, so I started moving the dish closer and closer to where I sat.  Eventually I could reach down and stroke her back, but if she saw my hand coming down, she would leap back.  (makes you wonder what her childhood must have been like)

Now every morning when I get up, there she is.  Usually sitting in front of the sliding glass door but sometimes on the balcony railing. I wondered how does she know when I get up?   Sometimes I am up before it is totally light outside and even before I switch on a light, there she is.  Then one night I got up about 2:00 am to pee and saw her outside curled up on my door mat.   In time she began to walk back and forth in front of me, allowing her tail to swipe across my legs.  I began to pet her and she seemed okay with that (as long as I fed her right afterward).  Sometimes she comes inside, but merely sits in the middle of the room staring at me.  She occasionally meows but it is a tiny soft voice I can barely here.  She eats more and more,  I remember cats sniffing their food and delicately eating just some of it.  She gobbles up the food very quickly.  There is nothing dainty about the ways she eats or laps up milk,  When she is through eating (or decided she isn't going to get any more)  she will sit on the door mat and wash herself.  She also uses it as a scratching post.  Then she will move into one corner, curl up and go to sleep.  I think she feels safe there from other cats or predators.

By the time the late afternoon sun hits the balcony, she is gone for the day.  Maybe she has another home somewhere.  But then, I am not stupid enough to sit on the balcony with the sun beating down either.  By then I will be up on my terrace under the cabana (usually with a cocktail).  She has yet to discover the upper terrace.  Since living alone, I have often thought I should get a pet for companionship.  I remember my grey hound Mauii when I came home from a long day, he would jump up and down and wag his tail (actually his whole rear end).  It was so nice to have someone happy to see me when I got home.  But I always had a house with a yard in the States.  The idea of walking a dog two or three times a day does not appeal to me for I am very lazy (and OLD!)  Then I thought about adopting a cat but you have to mess with the kitty liter box and what would I do with her when I went away?  My friend Richard has canaries, but they do not give me that "warm fuzzy feeling".  So now I have a sometimes pet cat.  I have yet to try to pick her up, but she is quite happy with my petting her now.  She will probably never jump up and down and wag her tail, but she is there each morning to greet me.  Yes, she is probably only interested in the food.  After all she is a cat, but having someone (or thing) that needs and depends on you is still a nice feeling.


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