EL ULTIMO VIAJE A LA PUEBLA DE LA SENORA DE LOS ANGELES

Until I can renew my residency card, I must leave Mexico every six months in order to re enter to obtain another six month visa.  For two years I had a residency card (which allows one to stay as long as they like in Mexico) but the renewal process was just too complicated and time consuming so I dropped it.  Big mistake! as they now have much stricter regulations and I was told you have to start the process at the Mexican Embassy in Los Angeles (not possible for me).  Since then I did find out how I could maybe obtain it from here and I am determined to get it.  I no longer want to leave Mexico and certainly not every six months.

It costs too much money for one, and with the present political climate, I do not even want to admit I am an American citizen.  The biggest expense is the car rental, but Kathie said she would pick me up at the airport and I could stay on her sofa.  This saved me the car rental plus a hotel room.  My lawyer who had a guest house where I stayed for years has retired and moved.  The day before I was to leave Kathie called to say her car was in the shop.  For six weeks she kept saying it needed repairs and I begged her to do it before I arrived, but NO!  I was pissed but arranged for a car at the airport.  For three and a half days, it cost more than my round trip plane ticket.  I found there is a shuttle service, but without a car, how would I get around?  Southern California is not possible without a car.

The first day I was to see a very dear friend who discovered he had pancreatic cancer a few months ago.  He under went a 10 hour surgery and was recovering enough that they were going to pick me up at Kathie's.  Once I rented a car I tried to contact them to say I could now meet them.  No response!  I set off for the lab where I was to have tests done before I saw my doctor.  My P.O, Box had no mail of any kind in it.  I had asked the doctors nurse to be sure and send me the authorization and also asked  her where to go for the lab tests.  So I drove to Mission Viejo to a medical complex with only paid parking.  The lab had no record of me at all.  I was not pleased.  Once I got back to Kathie's I called the nurse (I have no U.S. phone of my own).  She claimed to have no knowledge of my request.  Shouldn't the doctor order the tests after I made the appointment?  I told her she not only said she would take care of the authorization but gave me the address of the lab.  She denied it. This was a new doctor.  It seems I have not only out lived most of my friends, but my doctor as well.  I had yet to meet the man and already I did not like him.

I did hear back from my friend who was back in the hospital.  It seems chemo therapy is not was making better him but worse (not surprised).  We agreed to meet in a few days.  Kathie and I were going to take our usual trip on the train to "The City of the Angels"  (What a misnomer !).  So I went to the train station and bought tickets and picked up a copy of the train schedule.  We were going to visit the new Broad Museum and I had got tickets on the internet before I left.  We left early for the train depot.  A really cute sort of mission style building.  They have a huge parking lot but every where said "tow away zone" after three hours.  It was all reserved for the two restaurant there.   Kathie insisted it would be okay, but I was not about to risk having a rental car towed.  I thought I would ask the nice lady at the counter where I could park.  The tickets were in a packet I had of the train schedule, a map of downtown L.A, and the tickets to the Broad Museum.  My jean pockets are too tight so I asked Kathie to carry them in her purse.  But apparently just before we left her house, she looked in her purse for something land took the packet out, leaving it on the counter.  We had to race back and barely got back in time, but I still did not know where to park.  The nice lady led me to the only eight spots left for public parking.  Ridiculous !  The train left 30 seconds after we got on board.

It is a very pleasant trip on the train and ends at the wonderful Art Deco Union Depot.  It has been beautifully restored to its original glory.  We had an hour and half and we both wanted a french dip sandwich from Phillippe's.  It has been serving them for 108 years,  Don't miss it if you are ever there.  But Kathie had on warm boots and a wool sweater and it was 85 degrees.  We stopped at Olivera Street to pick up some sandals and a light blouse.  Olivera Street is where Los Angeles began.  One building says the deed dates to 1542 although the building obviously does not.  Most of the existing structures (which were originally homes) were built in the 1700 and 1800's.  A charming street but the tourist shops look just like the ones on the island near my home,  Still I love the contrast of the old and the new buildings.  By the time she had her blouse and sandals, we did not have time for our sandwich.  Kathie was sure it was all very close together, but it is not.  It is 8 or 10 blocks up hill to the museum.

We walked up the Grand Park which begins at City Hall and goes all the way up to The Music Center.  Downtown L.A, is really beautiful now with lots of parks, fountains and gorgeous buildings.
From 1960 to 1964, I worked on the 7th floor of the iconic City Hall building.  I looked out over what would be the Grand Park (they were talking about it then) but all I saw were slums, crumbling buildings and vacant lots. It took over 50 years, but it is now beautiful  The architect for the Broad Museum was severely criticized as The Broad looks like a lump compared to the beautiful soaring Disney Hall covered with polished stainless steel.  But that was the architects intent - to make a contrast,  Inside is gorgeous with huge spaces of brilliantly lit rooms.  It is all post war modern art (not really my cup of tea)  I prefer the French Impressionist or the old masters, but I did find a few painting I could admire (I even recognize some of the art work)  They allow no photos with a flash and I have never found out how to cut off my flash, but I took a quick one on the lower level as we exited.

We then went to Philippe's for our french dip sandwich.   They invented them and they are still the best ever.  The place looks exactly the same as it did when I was a kid and my parents took me there with the same tables and stools and saw dust on the floor.  Again, we barely made the train going back but luckily got on one of the little shuttle buses they have for old people and it took it right to our train.  I always enjoy going to L.A, but probably this was my last time.

Next day I had to meet Donna for lunch.  She is a Trump supporter so I was not looking forward to it. I immediately told her that she will not change my mind nor do I think I can change hers, so let's  not talk about Trump.  But you can't stop these people.  I am not sure how I managed to get through lunch let alone digest it.  But we met a Cedar Creek across the street from the old Mission San Juan in their beautiful patio, so I tried to focus on that.  My next stop was my doctor.  I had deliberately made the appointment for my last day there so there was plenty of time for the lab tests (which he did not order).

Of course it was an hour after my appointment time before he walked into the room.  He opened my folder (inherited from my old doctor) and preceded to read off a list of tests he wanted done (bone scan, C.T. scan, blood tests).  Why didn't he order them before?  I told him I was leaving the next day and he said to cancel  my flight.  (I don't think so!)  Obviously he had never looked at my chart until he walked in the room.  I told him that I felt great and the only symptom of old age that I could think of was flatulence.  He ignored the statement and did not even crack a smile.  You cannot trust people with no sense of humor.  I had already decided I did not like him and my opinion did not change.  From there I went to meet up with my friend with pancreatic cancer.  He has lost so much weight and he looked like a shell of his former self.  But his eyes had a steely determination.  That plus a good attitude is more than half the battle.  At least that is my excuse for living too long.

It was nice to see some friends (except Donna) and I enjoyed the train trip to old L.A. but I do think it was the last time I will do it.  We have doctors here and if people want to see me, they can come here.  Noriko came all the way from Japan, why can't they?

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UN VISITANTE DE JAPON

It seems odd that in all the years I have lived here, my first house guest would come all the way from Japan (but then, my life is odd),  I met Noriko 57 years ago when my good friend Kyl brought her to my tiny apartment near the campus at USC.  She was so cute, she looked like a China doll (make that a Japanese doll).  I was best man at their wedding.  Some years later they went to Japan to visit her family.  Kyl decided he wanted to move there.  He found an ad in the Pasadena Gazette looking for an English teacher at a private high school.  The problem was he never graduated, so we copied my diploma and inserted his name.  He got the job and later faked a masters degree on the computer to get a job with a college.  The Japanese are extremely honest and trusting and rarely contest anything.

Over the years I visited Japan many, many times.  They would spend many Christmas Holidays with me.  Kyl died last year and I convinced Noriko to visit me.  She is even older than I am and I was worried about all the walking we would do, but she was a real trouper.  The first day we walked to the island in the middle of the Rio Caule (just two blocks from me).  It is a pretty walk but all that is there are tourist shops and some restaurants.  She made the comment that it did not matter if you were in Singapore, The Philippines, or Hawaii, all tourist shops look alike.  I had to agree.  We ended at the Insurgente bridge where we crossed to my bank.  She had purchased dollars in Japan thinking she would spend them here.  I explained that other than a few tourist places, we only use pesos, but not to worry we would exchange them at my bank.  This was her first "Mexican Experience".  I had brought my passport and handed it to the teller along with my bank card.  She explained (in Spanish) that I could only deposit the dollars.  I said fine, just tell me what it is in pesos and I will draw it out of the ATM outside.  She then began to SLOWLY count the dollars.  She rubbed each one and handed it to the man next to her while he examined them.  About about 15 minutes it was determined that a $10 and a $5 had a small coffee stain and were not except-able.  Okay tell us again what the peso equivalent is.  Then another man came over and said he needed a copy of my passport.  (What do they do with it?  Stable it to the dollars?)  I said "Okay go ahead", and he said,  "NO, you must make a copy and come back.  This would have added another hour or so to the transaction, but luckily I carry a copy of my passport in my wallet and he accepted that.  They also have a copy of my passport when I opened my account.  NEVERMIND.   I then asked what my balance was.  She said she could not tell me, but I could get it from the ATM outside!   I told Noriko to be prepared, for nothing is easy to do here, especially when dealing with the Government or an institution.  In order to calm my frazzled nerves we stopped at Los Mercados (where the white people shop) to buy some sandwiches and sit in their beautiful courtyard for a cup of espresso.

That night we went to Di Vino Dantes for dinner.  It is the most beautiful room this side of the river with excellent food.  It is located above Gallery Dantes (the largest art store in town) and it over looks the sculpture garden below.  I ordered some tapas, which are my favorite and plenty for dinner for two.  The next night I cooked my famous pasta and invited Jennifer and a snow bird friend, Don who was leaving the next day.  The following day was Saturday so we went to the Saturday Market at Plaza Cardenas at the end of my street.  It is very colorful with a least 100 stands selling everything from food to fine art (most of it tourist stuff),  We then walked along the ocean to the Cathedral in Old Town.  It is the most beautiful church in town and an icon for the town with the angels holding a crown at the top.  I thought she would be tired and we would start back, but she wasn't  so we continued to walk the entire Malecon.  We were lucky enough to catch the flying Indians.  There is a very tall pole at the waters edge and Mexicans in color costumes, throw themselves backward off the top and spin all the way to the sand upside down.

The next day we mostly rested for we had dinner that night at Hacienda San Angel (my all time favorite)  It is a small boutique hotel and restaurant located in a gorgeous huge old mansion way up on the hill above the Cathedral.  The rooms and courtyards are spectacular with candles everywhere..  Yes, it is expensive (for Mexico) but worth every peso.  I asked and was told it had been a private home.  Next day we did some wandering around and Noriko saw her first big iguana.  A small black one was across the street one morning, but this was a huge green and orange one.  I think we next went to the Botanical Gardens.  We picked up the bus across the street from me which follows the coast line most of the way.  Gorgeous views of the water crashing against rocks. As we passed Mismaloya, I pointed out where Night of the Iguana was filmed.  At that point the road leaves the coast and climbs up into the mountains.

It had been a year since I had visited there and was very impressed with how good everything looked.  Of course they have also doubled the entrance fee (but the dollar has also doubled).  We took only a few of the paths that wind through the jungle.  The vanilla orchid winds around many of the tree trunks and she also enjoyed seeing the coffee plants.  What surprised both of us was the cocoa plant.  They make chocolate from it (as well as a few other drugs).  It  has a yellow fruit about the size and shape on a mango.  The paths were just dirt, now they are either cobble stones or gravel.  Everywhere there were new plants or pots of small plants waiting to be planted.  I was glad to see the jade plant was in bloom.  The blossoms are an iridescent  green that does not look real.  The new orchid pavilion is still disappointing to me but they are plenty of orchids throughout the garden.  We had lunch in their restaurant which overlooks the park.  Just gorgeous.  The ride home was another "Mexican Experience"  The driver was speeding down the hill, when all of a sudden the motor made a strange sound and died.  He pulled to the shoulder (which happened to be on the wrong side of the road).  First he got out and climbed under the bus.  Then he reentered the cab and pulled a broom off a shelf above the dash board.  How do you fix a motor with a broom??  He inserted the handle into some hole.  I do not know if it was gas, water or oil, but he seemed satisfied and tried to start the engine.  When it did not turn over he slowed pulled into the wrong side of the road and started coasting down until the motor caught.  Of course this was still on the wrong side of the road.  Luckily it is mostly down hill into town.  At one point a couple got up and asked to be let off in front of their condo building.  He either did not understand or did not care for he zoomed by while they screamed and pointed behind us.  Ignoring them (and everyone else) he pulled into the gas station and the entrance to town and stopped at a gas pump.  He then told us to get off the bus.  This was the end of the line for him.  Luckily I live just 5 or 6 blocks from there.

Jennifer asked us over to see her place right on the river.  Noriko had brought some of Kyl's ashes which she wanted to scatter in the ocean.  I explained that it was not easy to do.  The wind off the water blows them back at you.  Also there are too many people about.  We thought about the pier, but the same problem, so I suggested the river.  It flows on past my place and on out to sea.  She liked the idea and brought them.  Jennifer showed us the best stairs down to the river, but the river is very low during the winter so we had to jump across several rocks to find a good stream of water.  I think Kyl would like being in a Tropical Paradise.  Kitty accepted Noriko after a few days ( I knew she would). One day we found kitty with a bird in the dinning area.  She was furious when I took it away from her.  It was dead, but she was not through playing with it.  Feathers were everywhere.  Do you know how hard it is to sweep up feathers, with no vacuum?  I finally decided The Hell with it, a few feathers never won't hurt and I can get them next time I mop.

We had such a busy schedule that we only got to the beach once,  My apartment is just five blocks to the ocean, but I prefer a beach restaurant further south.  It is maybe 10 or 12 blocks but she was up to walking.  We went down B. Badillo pass all the beautiful shops and fine restaurants, then crossed two blocks to the pier, where we continued walking down the board walk on the sand pass many beach restaurants.  My favorite is La Carretta a tiny place but they all know me and call me by name.  The food is good and if I want an extra umbrella they will get it.  Food is served on little tables between the beach chairs (that would be the plate with french fries)  She really enjoyed it and we got to see the "fly boys" who have hoses attached to their feet that shoot them up way above the water.  A fun day, but we took a cab home.  One day we had breakfast at the new Hacienda restaurant across the street (I am working on a blog on it)   You can see my church bell tower rising about it.

Almost every night we watched the fireworks off the pirate ship from my terrace,  They happen every night all year but this year (I assume only during the "high season") they apparently have two ships for we see double fireworks.  She love it.  I asked her what surprised her the most about Mexico.  She knew everything was slow here.   It is always "manana" and she was amazed at the traffic jams on my street.  Cars double park around the taco stand on both sides of the street.  It makes is impossible for the huge tour buses to make the turn.  Sometimes cars are backed up for a block honking horns which everyone ignores.  The offending owner of the car blocking everything will calmly finish his taco before moving the car.  What surprised her the most was the noise level.  Bars blast out music so loud you can hear it a block away.  I took her to a few bars where conversation was absolutely impossible.  Cars go by with speakers blasting out a "boom boom boom" that rocks my windows.  Mexicans are just noisy.  The talk loud they laugh loud (and they laugh a lot).  There are a lot of adjustment to living in Mexico, but where else can an 80 year old with little money have as much fun as I do?

We visited almost all of my favorite places and I thought this blog would be a good way to showcase them, but alas, my camera took terrible pictures.  After she left I was at a costume party and mentioned that I was not able to get a good photo.  A friend spent about 5 minutes with it and fixed it, but too late for these photos.  I am really sorry I could not get pictures of the Mardi Gras parade.  I was so glad she was here to see it.  While we were waiting for the parade to pass she said, "Is it like the Rose Parade?"  Not hardly, it is mostly cars and trucks with balloons and steamers and lots of nearly naked men and women (most in drag) but it is a fun evening.  The last night we took a funicular that took us to the top of the hill where we had drinks at their bar overlooking the entire city and bay (I drank, she had Ginger ale)   We took it back down where my favorite restaurant is.  It is called Swedes and I highly recommend it,  The food is fabulous and the ambiance very romantic. A perfect conclusion to a wonder two weeks.

Of course I went with her to the airport.  Her ticket said only Gate 7,  I asked if that was A 7 or B7 and he said it was "B".  I told her once she got through security to watch the signs for gate B.  She did and settled in at Gate 7.  She noticed the sign said Minneapolis, but thought it would change to Santa Ana.  When her boarding time arrived and nothing had happened she asked the attendant, who told her she was at the wrong gate.  Never mind what the ticket says or what we were told.  He looked at the board which still said Gate 7.  After further checking  his computer he told her it would be leaving from Gate 11.  She barely made the flight.  Welcome to Mexico !!

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SAN MIGUEL DE ALLENDE

A long time ago, back when I was a globe trotter, my favorite traveling companion was Kathie.  We had such fun traveling around the world.  Sadly the globe trotting days are over for both of us.  I have not even been able to get her to visit me in Vallarta.  Her daughter took a vacation in San Miguel several months after her husband died.  She loved it, rented her home in Laguna (for an astronomical price) and rented a house in San Miguel.  She has invited me to visit her on several occasions but it was not until her mother decided to visit her, that I agreed.

San Miguel does not have an airport, so you have to fly into Leon.  It is only an hour flight from here, but the shuttle into San Miguel takes an hour and a half.  Danielle (the daughter) told me to be sure to book the shuttle ahead of time or it would not be there.  She sent me the web site and I easily made a reservation for a round trip on the shuttle (it was all in English).  It was less than a week before I was to leave when I started getting stuff together for my trip.  I then realized I have never received a confirmation for the shuttle.  I went back to their web site, but without my confirmation number got no where.  I did find a telephone number and was surprised to get a girl who spoke English (with a heavy accent).  I explained my problem to her and sure enough she found my reservation but said the credit card denied the charge.  Suddenly I realized that she was talking about dollars and I told her that the card I gave her was a Mexican credit card so she must bill me in pesos.  She said she would take care of it.

I never did get an email confirmation, but the money did come out of my Mexican bank, so I assumed all was well.  Then Kathie called to say she was cancelling her trip.   It seems that L.A. was having terrific storms and Kathie said she could not even get out of the house to get to the bank   Southern Californians never learned to drive in rain, because they get so little of it.  Kathie has always been afraid of flying and she said that no way was she getting on a plane in that weather.  I had to think what I was going to do.  Then she sent another note saying she was trying to rebook the flight for the day before I left.   That day, I got a message from Danielle that her father was gravely ill and she was flying  back to The States.  Did Kathie also cancel?  It was one of her husbands, but then Kathie had a few after that.

Danielle told me that her boy friend would meet me and show me around, so did that mean I would be there by myself?  Well, if I cancelled my flight I would lose the money.  (I always buy the cheapest non refundable, not transferable tickets)  Well, why not go?  At 80 I could use a little excitement in my life and I always did like an adventure, so off I went.  The first surprise was the shuttle.   It is a small airport and I grabbed my bag and headed out looking for a bus or a van,  There was a man holding up a sign with my name on it.  I identified myself and he picked up the bag and went out to the parking lot and threw my bag in the back of a passenger car and I was the only passenger.  It is a long drive and I did not know where he would drop me or if anyone would be there, but I had her address.  I showed it to the driver.  He studied it for a while and nodded.  The next thing I knew he pulled up in front of her house.  I could not believe it and for just $24.00.

There were workmen remodeling the lower floor so I shouted up to the top floor.  Kathie appeared, but said she had no key to the gate as she had not been out since she arrived.  Luckily one of the workmen let me in.  Kathie had told me that Danielle had a three bedroom house.  She does, but the third bedroom is for meditation and had only a prayer rug.  Kathie and I were to sleep in the same bed (which we had done before)  The boy friend was at some sort of meeting and I could find nothing alcoholic to drink so I went out to the nearest tienda.  I also noticed that the freezer was so full of stuff there wasn't an ice tray in it.  So I bought ice as well.  It was so cold that the ice lasted for two days sitting on the counter.

Jorge (the boy friend) is a very tall and handsome man with no Mexican features at all.  He looks Castilian Spanish.  He was born in San Miguel where his family was very prominent and owned a lot of property.  He had lived in the U.S. for many years and spoke perfect English.  He told us to go in the morning to the the central park and pick up a tram that would give us a tour of the city.  Armed with a map, I can get anywhere and easily found the spot.  Kathie on the other hand has such a terrible sense of direction that if she says to go right, I do not even have to look at a map for I know it is to the left.  (She could get lost in a closet).  We opted for the bilingual tour which was not for another hour so we wandered to another park where there was a fiesta with Spanish dancers and music.  The town is gorgeous.  Some of the narrow cobble stone streets even reminded me of Paris.  Unlike Vallarta where  many buildings of historical nature are being torn down for ugly concrete condos,  San Miguel has preserved its Colonial look.  As far back as 1962 the government made it an historical site,  The buildings are mostly stone with carved doors that open to beautiful patios.  Every shop, every restaurant is just beautiful.  We stopped twice on the tour, once on top of a hill where you can view the city with the tall Gothic church in the center.  I wrote down other places I wanted to revisit.

The next day Jorge \had arranged for a guide to take us to the pyramids.  Our guide was an American archaeologist who had been working on the site.  It wasn't until 2006 that people even knew about the pyramids.  Jorge said as a child there were rumors about them, but no one knew where they were.  The site is on an 18,000 acre ranch owned by the granddaughter of the Krupp family.  She is some sort of mystic who thought she got vibes off them and would let no one near them.  The Mexican government finally took over a section of the ranch surrounding the pyramids, but access is very limited.  The pyramids were built in  550 A,D.  but over the past 1500 years much of the artifacts have been stolen.  It was a  two mile walk to get there (all up hill) and the altitude made it difficult and Kathie had to stop half way there.  I went on, but the real challenge was climbing up the tiny stairs of the pyramid.  They said that the steps are very narrow so the corpse of the sacrifice will roll all the way to the bottom (but so would I if I fell)   You have to walk side ways and there are no banisters, so it is difficult.  At the peak they found a skeleton.  He was covered in armor and jewelry so obviously the chief.  What amazed everyone is that when carbon testing was done they found he had died almost 1.000 years before he was buried in the pyramid.  Speculation was that he had been considered a God and they had carried him from wherever they came from until they found the perfect spot to build it so it is perfectly aligned with the sun, moon, stars.  They were definitely not Mayan, nor Aztec, but maybe related to the Aztecs.  No one knows what happened to them.

The next day Jorge told us to go to the large park near where we were.  There was some sort of a flower show so the paths were lined with thousands of potted plants for sale.   It was just beautiful, plus artists had their painting for sale and Kathie bought one.  We then wandered around the area and passed the Rosewood Hotel (the most expensive in the area)  All the homes around it are gorgeous and everything is so clean.  There is no garbage on the corner, there is no litter in the street.  You do not even see a cigarette butt.  The cobble stones are not round river stones like Vallarta, but cut flat stones.  There are little boutique hotels everywhere and I checked and founds the rooms were very cheap.

San Miguel de Allende was founded in 1542 as a depository for the gold and silver that was mined from the nearby mountains.  It was originally called San Miguel de Grande, but renamed for the martyr Allende after the war of independence.  His family home is still there and you can go thought the entire place which has been furnished in the style of the 1800's.  The Canal house is across the street and even more grand, but tours only include the interior courtyards.  The Canal family owned much of the mining enterprises.  All the buildings are stone with carved entrances and arches over the windows, with huge heavy wood doors that open into  beautiful courtyards.  I just loved the city and if it wasn't for the cold in the winter might consider moving there.  Jennifer and I are going back in July or August.

Kitty survived my absence just fine.  I had people coming by to make sure she had plenty of food, and when I got back she was waiting on the balcony.  She would not let me out of her sight and screamed constantly unless I was holding her on my lap.  I guess she missed me a lot.  It is nice to be missed by someone, even if it is just a cat.

KITTY

Kitty is alive, well and a very happy kitty.  She is extremely affectionate, wanting to be next to me all the time (even when she is not hungry).  She plays a lot but mostly with creatures she finds still ignoring any toys.  She likes them alive (at least partially)   I bought her a ball that looked like a mouse with a tail and a mouse face.  It did not roll.  She would touch it with her paw and stare at it. When it did not move, she would try again and then walk away.  So I tied it to a string and hung it from one of the beams on my cabana.  She was mildly amused for a while, then I made the mistake of swinging it for her.  It hit her in the face and she will not go near it again.  She is an aggressive predator, but she does not like anything that hits back.

 A few months ago I was quite worried about her safety.  One night I noticed that the alpha male cat was no longer at the taco stand across the street.  He was there every single night.  Then I noticed her sister (the evil twin) was also no longer around,   There was a black cat that roamed the roof of the hacienda across the street and a Siamese cat that lived around the church.  They were all gone!  It was just like when all the cats in the vacant lot behind me disappeared.  Kitty was now the only cat on the block.

Months have passed and what ever happened seems to have missed her.  I did ask the guy who runs the taco stand and he seemed to indicate that someone came and picked him up by the neck and took him away.  This is a guess on my part as he does not speaks one word of English, and his Spanish is so rapid it sounds more like machine gun fire than a language.  I can't really see how that could happen.  The City fired most of their police force because the last mayor emptied the treasury.  Are they going to send out a "cat squad"?  Not likely.  I feel more confident now in her safety.  There is no way to lock her up as she has roamed the streets all her life.  But she is very picky about her food,  preferring one kind over another and she won't touch any food left over for more that a few hours, so I can't see her gobbling up some poison food someone throws at her.

She is no longer exclusive to the balcony.  She started just roaming the house and then picked certain spots she likes.  While I am at the computer she likes to lie between my feet.  When I get up she jumps in the chair and naps.  She will go under the bed if I am lying down reading or napping (sometimes spending hours napping herself).  One day I got off the bed and went into the kitchen for something.  When I returned she was curled in the spot I had just left.  I let her know that this was a "No No".  I have also caught her curled up behind the pillows in the guest bedroom partially hidden by the mosquito netting.  My neighbor told me she spend a lot of nights in her place.  She removed the bottom glass on her sliding glass door to let air in at night.  She said she likes cats and does not mind but as soon as kitty sees her she flees.  She wanted to know her name and I said, "kitty"  She said,  "That is it?"  I do not think is strange for the first thing I said to her when she dropped down on my balcony was "Hello kitty"  Just because she later became friendly, I saw no reason to change her name to Mahitabel or something.

I am not sure cats pay attention to a name anyway.  She comes to the sound of my voice and she can tell by the tone if she has been naughty or nice.  She does get scolded at times.  I will not let her attack any of my furniture (that is if I can catch her at it)  One day she wandered into the bathroom and somehow closed the door on herself.   This must have made her mad for she picked fight with the shower curtain.  It lost (badly)  It was in shreds so I tend to try to keep her out of there.  I will praise her when she catches one of those huge green grasshoppers, but was not happy when I opened the door to find feathers every where.  Sure enough there was a dead bird under the palm.   It was not one of the awful black birds or a stupid pigeon, but a beautiful bird with a bright yellow breast.

She has also discovered the deck.  I did not want her up there as there are too many planted pots she could turn into portapotties.  At first I thought she went there for the cool tile under the plants, but no, she was there for the prey.  There are all kinds of creatures up there for her to play with (i,e, torture and kill)..  Mostly geckos and a few lizards, some times an iguana, and sometimes a squirrel will run across the wall.  Of course lots of birds (her favorite prey) but mostly she catches insects.  She will play with them until they die.  She has nearly eliminated all the geckos.  I rarely see one anymore (alive anyway).  They used to be everywhere, on the floor, walls, and ceiling.  They are cute little things, but they poop everywhere, so I am not that unhappy about it.  Recently, the bats have returned.  Their big mating season is in January or February when hundred fly around within a few feet of your face.  She will sit on the wall watching them and hoping to catch one.  She thinks they are birds and does not know they have teeth as well as claw.

She naps most of the time, but when she is awake she is always meowing.  She can get to the deck on her own, but it is a long trek.  She crawls along the balcony railing to my neighbor, rounds the corner and up her outside staircase.   Then she has to jump over the low part of the wall (same place the thief came across).  So when she wants to go up there she will run up to the landing and scream for me to open the door for her.  She usually has a very soft plaintive mew (almost pathetic sounding) like she is about to expire.  But when that does not evoke the reaction she wants from me, she lets out a blood curdling scream MEEOOW!  She talks a lot.  We have quality time after her breakfast while I am finishing my 6 cups of coffee.  Then after her dinner she will join me on the deck while I have my cocktail.  She likes lots of petting and sometimes will crawl up onto my chair (trying to push me aside).  She does not purr (at least not audibly)  I can feel her neck vibrate like she is purring inside, but no sound.  So she talks to me.  I always answer her but neither of us have any idea what the other is saying.  After all she is a Mexican cat and very few cats are bilingual.  

She has become a part of my life and she gives me great joy.  She is so funny to watch as she has all kinds of moods.  She makes my laugh, even when she is being naughty.  Mainly she is after attention.  Sometimes when she thinks I have ignored her too long, she will reach out and swat at me as I pass by.  She never draws blood, she just wants me to know how displeased she is.  It is amazing in such a short period of time that she went from a homeless street urchin to a pampered princess.  Well, maybe I had something to do with that.

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ATRAPAR UN LADRON (TO CATCH A THIEF)

Yes, it has been a long time and I know you have missed me, but there were reasons (other than just being lazy)   This will be difficult for me to write and you may find it disturbing to read.  It is about misplaced trust, betrayal, and my own incredible nativity and stupidity (but you already knew about that).   It is a long sad tale, but I promise the next posting will be on a lighter note.  You may notice some repetition of a posting I did last March "The Perils of Living in a Poor Country"  In that post I was almost sympathetic toward my unknown thief, explaining how extreme poverty can cause someone to become so desperate they believe they have to steal.  I do love the Mexican people, but now I know who my thief was and I no longer feel that benevolent.  Now, I want to bury the bastard!  I have hesitated about even writing it,  but this blog is about my life here in Mexico and I thought you should hear it.

The story really starts over five years ago in my former apartment.  If you recall it was located over the bus stop for all buses to Mismaloya and south.   The apartment was huge and gorgeous, but the buses loading and unloading people drove me crazy.  Also the management for the building was nonexistent. I hated it.  Just below my balcony was a make shift stand where tickets to various trips were sold as well as invitations to Time Share seminars (we all know about those).  I guessed that they were all con men, but one guy was quite helpful to me.  Later I realized he over charged me for all the help he gave (I was new here, and yes stupid).  His wife sold plastic cups of fresh cut fruit and coffee cake.  I bought some almost every morning and got friendly with the whole family (they had a preschool little boy)  One day he stopped me and told me of a plan he had to make us both some money.  He wanted to buy a van and take people on his own to places like The Flea Market, the Botanical Gardens, the Zoo, etc.  He showed me how just two full vans a day would make so much money.  All he wanted from me was 15,000 pesos for the van.  I knew his figures were flawed in the number of people, plus I knew how difficult it would be to control a crowd going through some place as large as the Gardens or the Zoo.  There are always a couple of people who pay no attention to time or other people.  He said it would be a partnership and I could recoup my "investment" in less than a year.

I was not that stupid, but thought that even a little extra income would be nice, plus I would have the use of a van.  As soon as I saw the van,  I knew this plan would not work.  It was an awful old thing with dented fenders and door.  No American is going to pay a lot of money to ride around in that wreck.  He said he would paint it with colorful pictures of the gardens and zoo.  It never happened.  Next he said he had to apply for a license to drive tourist around.  By the time he got his license the High Season was almost over.  So one day I asked him to drive me to Home Depot.  It is a long way and at the time cost about 120 pesos by taxi.  He said sure, but he immediately turned around the corner and pulled up to a gas pump and asked how much I wanted to put in it.  I did not want to put anything in it, but stupidly gave him 500 pesos.  It was my last trip in the van.  I never got a dime back and eventually he just disappeared.  No one seemed to know why or where, but I found that he owed a lot of people money.  So did I learn to be less trusting??  Of course not,  I am a slow learner (translation = extremely stupid).

ENTER JORGE::  Saul has been my go to guy and fix it man since I moved to this apartment.  I needed help replanting some plants and he brought Jorge over.  He was a cute kid, very polite and a very good worker.  He was fast and very strong.  Fast is unusual in Mexico so I started hiring him to do some heavy lifting and cleaning.  Saul does not like manual labor.  Jorge was always in between jobs.  He seemed to have no problem getting a job, but they never lasted more than a month or two.  When he needed money he would call and ask if I had work for him.  I would make up something for him to do ( something I really did not need to have done, or something I could have done myself) just to give him some extra money.   He also asked if he could do his laundry.  He was still living at his parents home which was just a few blocks from me.  He said his father was no longer working and did not get a pension for another year.  The family had no money and their washing machine broke.  Of course I said yes so he starting coming to my home once or twice a week.

I did think that I was missing some money from time to time.  I try to keep one or two 500 pesos notes hidden in my wallet between some credit cards, if I am out and run short, I always have extra cash.  I would look and the money was gone.  When did I spend it?  I could not remember.  Also I keep several hundred pesos in a drawer in my bedroom for day to day money.  Larger amounts of money I had been hiding for years.  I would look in the drawer and think that I thought I had more money than that.  Then my computer was stolen.  I could tell they came in through the kitchen window from the dirty foot prints.  I had bars added to the window.  More things disappeared so I had the locks changed.  I kept U.S. dollars in a billfold I only use in The States.  Shortly before my last trip, I checked and found I had two one hundred dollar bills and some twenty s. Then a few days later when I was lining up stuff to take, I noticed the money was gone.  No one had been in the apartment except Jorge so I accused him of stealing the money.  He was horrified and sad that I could think he was a bad person.  He was so upset that I thought "well someone broke in before, maybe someone else stole it"  Still the question remained, "why only the money?"

I began watching Jorge more carefully and counting my money before he arrived.  Then my CD player was stolen.  That time I had left the door to the roof garden open.  I really did not think that Jorge was capable of scaling the wall to get to my deck.   It had to be a professional thief.  I did figure out that the money taken from my Mexican wallet was always done while I was at the gym.  It was the only time I left the house without it.  And still I would find 500 to 1,000 missing.  Something had to be done, so a friend ordered a camera for me that was a motion and sound camera that took a photo and sent it to "the cloud" where it was sent back down to my computer and my friend's computer.  It even had an infra red lens that took picture in the dark.  (since it was stolen, I only have a picture of the box)   I set it up every time I left the house, but always hid it before anyone came over.  I did not want anyone else to know I had it.  The past two robberies had occurred on a Tuesday.  The taco stand next door is closed on Tuesday so not many people are around to see someone accessing my deck or balcony.  Three weeks past and no robberies.  Then a few Tuesdays ago I returned from the gym to find Jorge sitting on the curb.  He wanted to wash a few clothes.  I explained that I was meeting a friend at the beach in two hours, but he said it was just a few things, but he had to wash his uniform for work that night.  I told him to hurry and sent him upstairs while I hid the camera.  While we waited he made himself a sandwich.  He was always hungry and ate something almost every time he was here.

Besides the money I gave him for work, I did a lot more for him.  When he moved to his own apartment in PTL  I gave him linens, towels, and some pots and pans.  They were extras I really did not need, but he could use.  When he got a cold or flu, I gave him medication.  One day he arrived with a horribly swollen jaw.  I could tell from the smell it was a badly abscessed tooth.  A friend of mine lost the sight of one eye from an abscessed tooth.  I told him he had to see a dentist that day.  He had no money so I gave him 1,000 pesos.  He came back with a prescription for some expense medicine.  I gave him another 500.  Around his 25th birthday his cell phone was stolen.  I gave him 1,000 to buy a new one.  (did I tell you he was very cute).   Every Mexican I knew told me that the thief was someone I knew.  Every friend I had said it had to be Jorge.  I could not believe that someone I had been so good to and had done so much for, could do that to me.  Jorge was always polite, and even though he spoke not a word of English could be funny.  He was charming.

In retrospect I think he was waiting for me under my balcony because he found he could not get into the house.  After he had eaten we were both upstairs waiting for the dryer to finish.  I was already to leave for the beach and had locked the balcony doors.  He said he had to use the bathroom.  While I was still waiting upstairs, he must have used the time to unlock my balcony door but leaving it closed and the drapes drawn.  I left right after him locking the deck door and the front door, but never checking the doors I had already locked.  I also reset up the camera.  I had just reached the beach (about ten minutes) when I my phone rang.  It was Hector who told me he just got an email from my camera showing someone who looked like Jorge going through my closet.  I told him to call the police and took a cab home.

By the time I got here there were two patrol cars here and four policemen (well, two men, two women).  The computer and the camera were gone.  While Hector took them through the apartment, I texted Jorge.  He neither speaks nor understands English so we mostly communicated in text messages.  I wrote (in Spanish) that all I wanted was the computer returned.  He said he had no idea what I was talking about.  Then I told him the camera he stole took pictures of him and I had the police here.  I just wanted the  computer back.  In essence, he said that it was no big deal for I was rich and had a big house (neither is true, but you will never convince a Mexican of that)..  I told him he would be sent to jail.  He wrote back that he was not going to jail and "over time" he would pay me back for the computer (it was obviously already sold).  Not good enough!  I told him I would send the police to the place he worked, then he threatened me.  All this I have on my phone showing it was sent from his phone.  The police were here for at least two hours and filled out seven forms.  They needed my passport (checking to see when I arrived in Mexico) and for I.D.  Then I had to sign all seven forms.  Hector tried to explain what they said and the first one said "I had the right to contact and attorney"  Why would I need and attorney??  Later I found out.  They told me to bring the text messages and prints of the photos to the police station at 9:00 the following morning.  Also I did not remember Jorge's last name and they needed that.and an address.

They were leaving when I realized that I not only had no copies, but not even the case number, nor did I know where the police department was.  The girl came back and on a scrap of paper wrote down the number and a long explanation of where to go the following morning.  They said any taxi driver could take me there.  NOT TRUE!  The next morning I got up early but was still rushed to get out of the house by 8:30.  I dashed out and hailed the first taxi and told him I had to go to the police station.  He said which station.  I gave him the written instructions and told him my friend said he thought it was near the bus depot.  He said "which bus depot"  All this is in Spanish and I decided he was not a good choice so I waved him on.  The next driver spoke perfect English said he knew where it was and we took off.  We got half way there when I remembered they said to bring my passport.  I had a photo copy that I always carry and they had it for two hours the day before.  The driver said he would ask his boss.  The boss said I definitely needed my passport, so we turned around and went back.  I quickly grabbed it and we took off again.  He was hurrying but I knew I was going to be very late.  Then he passed the bus depot.  He said he knew where to go and kept on driving.  Maybe ten miles later we were almost to Bucerios when he pulled up to a one story white building.  I asked if he was sure and he said he would go in with me.  Sure enough it was the wrong one.

We headed back toward the bus depot.  He had been so nice (in spite of driving way out of the way) and he spoke  English.  He also said he lived just a few blocks from me so I asked for his name and telephone number.  He said I could call any time for anything.  What a lucky break I thought as I have always wanted a good cab driver who spoke English that I could call.  When we arrived he went in with me again and sure enough I had finally arrived at the right place.  I asked how much for I planned on giving him a big tip.  He said 700 pesos!  Yes, we almost made almost three trips, plus he drove way out of the way.  A one way fare should be 150 pesos or 450 for three full trips, which we did not do. .  What an ass!  He just lost a good customer.  Of course the policeman standing there could not care less that he was over charging me.  I checked in at the desk where I signed my name, printed it and he gave me a lanyard with the number 25 on it and motioned me through some air port metal detectors toward some chairs against the wall (not one word of English, of course).  After about 20 minutes I asked him if I could go out for a smoke,  Sure no problem.  I came back through the metal detector and sat down again.  I had been there at least another 20 or 30 minutes when I got up and asked when my number would come up.  He then pointed to another woman at a desk against another wall.  I was supposed to check in with her.  Who Knew?

Finally a woman I had seen prancing back and forth on six inch heels spoke to me in English She took me into another room to wait for the inspector in charge of my case.  She however spoke no English.  I gave her the photos and showed her the text messages.  She said she still needed his full name and address.  I told her he works at Lala Leche (the major milk produce company here) in the warehouse at night.  Not good enough!  So I told her I would get them and left.  The cab home was 150 pesos.  I was sure Saul would know his family's address and name.  He said he did not.  I took his photo around my neighborhood.  They all recognized him but no one knew his full name.  They do not want to be involved.  I did get his family's address, but no name.  I now have a Mexican who has also lived here for a long time trying to get the family name.

Mexicans to whom I have spoken to said that even with his name and address, the police will do nothing.  He will not be arrested, let alone put in prison.  The best I can do is hope that a black mark goes on his police record to prevent him from ever getting a good job again.  You have to sue him.  There is a new law determines the amount of a fine if someone breaks into your home and hurts you.  The fine is larger if they kill you.  I cannot see how this will help.  Stealing a computer is considered a minor offense.  It was two computers, two cameras, a CD player and ten or twenty thousand in pesos,  not a minor crime to me.  Of course I have no proof he has been thief  for the past months.  I do have photos of him breaking in and the text messages admitting stealing the computer, but they said I really should have two witnesses.  It may be hopeless.  Jennifer wants to put up his photo on a poster stating that he is a thief.  He lived in this neighbor for 25 years so it would have an affect.  She also said if she sees him, she will beat him to a pulp and I believer she would.  She is a tiny lady but fierce.  .

It is a sad story.  I am mad about the computers and the money he stole, plus he hassle of trying to find a new one in English.  When he stole the first computer (not knowing it was him) I told him about the loss of all my photos from my travels all over the world.  Photos of China, France, Russia, Turkey, Japan all gone.  I guess that did not register with him.  Jennifer thinks he must be a sociopath.  I do not know, but I am also sad.  He was someone I trusted and helped.  He now has the first good job since I have known him making twice what he made at Oxxo.  He now has medical insurance and Mexico's sort of social security where he earns point toward buying a house one day.  He could lose it all.  It is also sad when I think that 95% of the Mexicans are good, honest, hard working people, but a few Jorges taint them all.  A sorry tale for everyone.

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