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PSA: Flying across the border

We’re getting ready to go traveling, so I thought I would give some flying tips as a Public Service Announcement. Travel back to the States is a staple of expat life: even Canadians often have to through-transit the US on the way home, although I know some who go to great lengths to never experience US airports again. Let’s see if we can make those experiences a little less challenging, shall we?

I’ll assume the basics: you have a Passport. I know there are special circumstances where a passport is not needed, but they are truly exceptional, so we’ll ignore them here. At the first place you land in the States, you’ll need to pass through two screens: immigration and customs. The first is to establish your right to enter the country. The second is to determine whether what you are bringing in with you is permissible. These two things are unrelated, by the way.

As a US citizen with a valid passport, you have the right to return to the United States. So the normal process at immigration is to get in line with all the other “US persons” (citizens, resident aliens and the like), wait your turn, hand over your passport, answer (sometimes) a perfunctory question like “how long were you gone?”, get your passport stamped and move along.

There are several ways to go faster. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) is the US government agency responsible for border crossing. One program they have is called Automated Passport Control (all the titles are hyperlinks for additional information). It is essentially a kiosk in the secure arrivals part of the airport where you scan your passport, answer questions on a touchscreen, take a photo, get a printout and go to the CBP officer to have it all checked. People with the same home address in the States can process together. This program is free but only available in the 50 largest airports. You still get in line, but your data will be correct and easily reviewed.

Another CBP program is called Mobile Passport. Mobile Passport is a free app that automates the forms and questions you encounter entering the States. You download it and enter your personal data, and when your plane lands, you send the arrival data securely to CBP, who returns a receipt to you. You get to use different lanes at the arrival area in the airport, so the lines are shorter (big plus). There is a $15 annual upgrade called Mobile Passport Plus, which also stores your passport data and automates the data entry. Mobile Passport is available at 26 major airports and three cruise ports.

The gold standard of CBP programs is Global Entry. It is, in effect, an honors program for re-entering the US. Global Entry costs $100 for five years, but note this: the $100 is an application fee, so if you are denied, you are out the money. Global Entry requires a background check AND an interview,which can be scheduled at CBP offices or in airports. There is a questionnaire (used to start the background check, and of course you’ll face more questions in the interview. With Global Entry, you access a different sets of kiosks (available at 75 US airports and 16 international ones), which again automate the answering of those same CBP questions. You scan your passport and get a receipt, then go to a separate CBP officer who checks your receipt and moves you along. One additional benefit to Global Entry is a separate line for the post baggage-pickup customs check.

The what? Everything I mentioned above is part of immigration, and happens before you get your checked bags. Customs can do a final check after that, but there is no set rule: sometimes they have an inspection, oftentimes they don’t. If they are inspecting, long lines can form, and Global Entry lets you (literally) walk to the front of the line and go first. It is one of those benefits you may never need, but when you do, it is a real game-changer.

The main reason NOT to apply for Global Entry is if you are fairly certain you’ll be denied (remember, you lose the application fee). Reasons for denial include a history of felonies, drug convictions, or anything related to smuggling or illegal border crossing. Otherwise, you should be approved.

What about Pre✓® and Clear? Pre-Check is a TSA program. The Transportation Security Agency (TSA) is just responsible for the safety of the traveler at ports (air and sea). TSA Pre-Check cost $85 for five years, and it requires an online application, a background check, and a short interview. Pre-Check allows you to access less rigorous screening at 200 airports, but it has nothing to do with immigration or customs. Global Entry member ship gives you complimentary TSA Pre-Check membership. So the extra $15 dollars for Global Entry is a bargain over Pre-Check, if you travel more than once outside the US every five years. However, many credit cards and travel groups will reimburse your TSA Pre-check fee (not so for Global Entry).

Clear is a private. bio-metric program done in conjunction with airline security. It is available in over 20 airports (and some stadiums) and costs $179 annually. Once you give Clear your fingerprints and retinal scan, they store it. At the airport, the first TSA check you face is for your ID and boarding pass. With Clear, you go straight to the Clear station, which lets you skip the long lines that form for the boarding pass/ID check, although you still go through the TSA physical inspection. Given the cost, Clear is mainly for seasoned road warriors who also use either Pre-Check or Global Entry.

There are a host of other CBP Trusted Traveler Programs which cover driving or walking across the border. I won’t cover them here, but just say that if you routinely drive across the US border with Mexico or Canada, one or more of these programs will get you out of the long lines and into a secure, fast transit: check them out! Sometimes they cross-apply, as Global Entry does with TSA Pre✓®.

What about our Canadian, Mexican, and other foreign friends? Each of the programs above have different criteria for eligibility of non-US citizens. However, Global Entry benefits are available to Canadians who have NEXUS (another program) and Mexicans are eligible for Global Entry, along with Indian, UK, German, Dutch, Korean, Swiss, Panamanian, Singaporean, Colombian and Argentine nationals. Expats in Mexico should also know that Mexico has a Global Entry equivalent program called Viajero Confiable. I can’t tell if there is a cost associated with application, and the kiosks are only available at Cancun, Mexico City, and Los Cabos (Guadalajara has had a “coming soon” banner for two years, so mañana!).

Finally (yes there is an end here somewhere), whatever program you choose, remember that crossing the border at an airport may seem routine to you, but it is a deadly serious affair. All kinds of people try to use international air travel for all the wrong reasons (terror, drug-trafficking, human trafficking, illegal immigration). So treat the exercise with an adult, business-like demeanor. Security lines are not an appropriate place for humor. Long before 9/11, I tried to make a joke about a security sign saying it was illegal to bring marijuana into the US, and I barely avoided a body-cavity search!

Smile but don’t initiate small talk. Answer questions with yes or no or the minimum number of facts: no “in the beginning” type stories. This may seem obvious, but never lie or dissemble. You may have a right to enter the US, but under current law, the CBP officers have the authority to detain you for questioning (sorry about that connecting flight) and to search everything you bring, including your media devices, even your beloved iphone (yes, they can ask you for your password; if you refuse they can retain your device for “processing” for several days)!

The most common problems for travelers are bringing in prohibited goods, or goods beyond the customs limits (hence taxable). Duty-free shops at the airport just mean nontaxable at the source: Absinthe may be legal in the US, but only certain types may be brought in legally. That fruit they give you on the airplane is considered from a foreign source; don’t forget to consume it before leaving the plane. And you can bring in Cuban cigars for personal use (defined as 50 or less). Forget about ivory souvenirs, animal skins, and almost any form of meat. There is an up-to-date CBP website to help you determine what you can bring in legally.

Which is not to say you don’t know someone (not not you, a friend, of course) who has brought in a turtle, or cannabis brownies, or whatever prohibited item. Most of the customs work is aimed at detecting smugglers, not the otherwise law-abiding travelers who happen to bring in something. Such people rarely get caught. But they do incur a risk: the closest thing to a permanent record anyone has is the file kept by the various Department of Homeland Security agencies (TSA, ICE, CBP, USCG, USSS, CIS and CISA). Get on the list and it may take years to get back off (if you know anyone whose name appeared on the No-fly list, ask them how long the nightmare lasted, even if they were quite obviously not a threat). Much of airport and customs security is random (which is why the old lady in the wheelchair gets searched…her number came up). You never know who’s next. So even though you won’t get caught, just don’t (do it).

Lastly, a processional from Jimi. Why Jimi? “goin’ way down south…way down to Mexico!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMiAVYYdDA8

Is college broken?

I began this post with the title “College is broken,” which is more definitive and alarming. I amended it after a dose of humility (I know, I need more) and the realization several family and friends work in academe, and perhaps they would chime in to a more inclusive invitation.

Don’t even get me started on “student-athletes”!

My concerns about the university system in the United States go all the way back to my daughters’ experience. Both of my daughters attended public universities, graduated in four years with some (but not extensive) debt, learned a lot, enjoyed their college years, and departed with good jobs. My wife and I paid for some of the expenses, but insisted each daughter incur some combination of scholarship/work-study/student loans (skin in the game). So what’s not to like?

It started with the application process. I distinctly recall a high school guidance counselor explaining how she could only write a letter of recommendation to one school for early admission (or was it early acceptance? Early enrollment? It doesn’t matter). When I asked why, since each university is independent (and would not know) and a student could only attend one, she told me they share information, and if she was found to be writing more than one letter, the schools would “blackball” her or the high school! “And no one has sued them for this behavior?” I asked. “Sure, you could, but your daughter won’t get into any decent school while the suit runs,” she told me.

This was my introduction to the organized crime of university admissions. Perhaps you have heard of the lawsuits which have followed, demonstrating collusion in the Ivy League admissions process, and of course the more recent pay-to-attend scandal among wealthy parents nationwide (no surprise to me).

But there was more. Early on for each of my daughters, they were advised by admissions counselors that they really needed to strongly consider taking five years to graduate. We strongly advised them to really consider graduating in four years, because the universities they were attending had to offer four-year degrees in the majors they were attempting. Our daughters made the right choice.

All of that just goes to my personal bias that something was rotten at the university of Denmark, to paraphrase Marcellus in Hamlet. So I began to research it (here comes trouble). Among my findings:

I think everyone knows there is a strong statistical relationship between attending/graduating college and lifetime earnings (the more of the former, the more of the latter). Many people have come to believe this is a credentialing phenomenon: it doesn’t matter what happens at college, you just get the sheepskin, you make mo’ money. The strongest correlation is between education and earnings. Those who have a passion for some topic and the requisite skills to address it do very well, either rounding our their knowledge (classical liberal arts) or specializing (Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics, or STEM). Those who either lack or mis-match passion and skills do poorly, diploma-be-damned. Which means college is not for everyone, or certainty not for everyone graduating high school; some may be far better served doing something else at that point!
What about the “free universal college” movement? If the students can attend for free, there is no risk in terms of debt, and maybe they will discover their talents and passion while at university? Setting aside the issue of cost (for the moment), creating a broad new entitlement in the hope of something good happening for some subset of the attendees is a poor gambit. There are unintended consequences lurking about: how many otherwise strong students will be lured away from academics by the party atmosphere of a multitude of “student-attendees?” It is like prescribing antibiotics for every cough: what could go wrong, until we experience antibiotic resistant diseases?
Other countries seem to do it well (free university education), why not the US? There are examples of countries which do it well, but none has a system amenable to the US. Some control the overall cost by simply limiting the number of universities (reduced demand equals limited cost). Others track students: in Germany, a test determines which high-school track you attend, which then determines your tertiary education opportunities. I would not want to attend the school board meeting in the United States where such a system was proposed.
But perhaps the rigorous nature of the university system and its selfless commitment to professional education will affect that wave of “student-attendees.” It is to laugh (cue Johnny Carson)! Sometime in the last thirty years, the academy became big business. Average college tuition is up 260% over that time as enrollments sky-rocketed (supply and demand still rules). The one-hundred richest universities have endowments above one-billion dollars (Harvard tops the list at $36b USD). The federal government abetted this wealth, first by guaranteeing student loan debt, then by directly providing the loans, and then by raising the amounts students could borrow. And since the federal government has no profit motive, even sham schools and non-productive majors (those would be value judgments, tsk-tsk) are eligible.
How bad did it get? A recent NYT article outlines the for-profit Art Academy University in San Francisco charging $100k tuition for a Masters in something called “design and applied arts.” Surely this is just a for-profit phenomenon? No, most everybody does it, and don’t call me Shirley. USC has an online Masters in Social Work that comes in at a cool $110k in tuition. Pure profit, baby! Since I have social workers in the family (wife and niece), here’s a little joke: how long does it take a social worker to earn enough to pay back such student debt? Never, a social worker doesn’t earn enough to eat, let alone pay back student debt! Check out the article for more astounding examples.
Worse still, once the cash-cow of new students started flooding into the university system, academe responded not by strengthening standards and tightening requirements, but rather by catering to the masses. I have to admit that I have nothing but envy for the culinary experiences I witnessed at my daughters’ schools: for college, I was “institutionalized” at a place that serve boiled beef. I hold no grudge for the air conditioning, drone-provided snacks, or comfort animals of today’s university system, but the catering extended to the curriculum! Out went mandatory classes in the classics (dead white men, after all). Core curricula became less core and more a la carte: you could replace Western History with, say, “Film, Fiction, and Female in Israel” (University of Michigan course catalog). Not to pick on UM: go to your favorite university or alma mater and you’ll find an equally valid example. Even ten years ago, when I was interviewing new hires, I noticed an increasingly apparent lack of historical knowledge, and this was in the national security field, one which assumes employees have a basic historical knowledge-base!

Now the disclaimer: the US university system is still a global standard. Any list of the best universities in the world is dominated by the usual suspects from the US. Which is to say that some students attending these institutions and getting an excellent education. However, the combination of a huge increase in demand for college, the unlimited supply of debt resources, and the tendency to treat students as customers to be satisfied has resulted in a large number of drop-outs and graduates with huge debt and little education. Worse still, it created a huge disconnect: young people who had been told attendance is as rewarded as performance, and that truth can be personal rather than absolute, now find themselves unprepared in a harsh world, where little matters beyond the bottom line.

I invite others with recent experience in higher education to chime in: crisis or not? Are these problems real, or am I just the guy yelling “get off my grass” on the quad?

That’s not funny . . . is it?

Anyone who has traveled and spent more than a few days in a foreign culture can confirm that one of the things that does not translate easily is humor. Our experiences as expats in Mexico only confirm this suspicion, although I think there are positive lessons to be learned from other cultures when it comes to humor.

Comedy NOB has become–as so much else–heavily politicized. You can laugh at the outrageous behavior on one side, but there are *crickets* on the other side. Meanwhile, a growing list of things once considered humorous are now off-limits: officially (and sometimes criminally) liable, offensive, and unforgivable.

Not so much in Mexico. Mexican humor is generally much sharper, politically incorrect, and fatalistic. There are a few topics which are off-limits to Mexican humor: national symbols (the flag, the anthem), some historical figures (La Guadalupana, Los Niños Heroes), and always, always, ¡SIEMPRE! anybody’s mother. There us nothing in Mexico equivalent to “the dozens” up north. Most everything else is available for ridicule.

Start with nickknames, or apodos. I am not talking about those which come with your given name, like men named Jesús being called Chuy, but rather the ones given you by your friends or family, and often due to a physical characteristic. So you might call your friend gordo because he is/was fat (or maybe very thin), chapo (shorty), tartajas (stutterer). Yes, the characteristics can be somewhat crude by NOB standards, but are not meant or taken that way in Mexico. Knowing someone’s nickname and using it is a sign of inclusion and affection, even though the names might not always sound that nice.

Joking about sex is becoming more common, if only among the younger and less cultured. However many Mexicans enjoy the double-entendre, or albures. These word-plays can be subtle or blatant, and may involve food. Be careful if you are ever asked how you like your eggs (huevos) or chiles. If your answer elicits smiles, you might be the accidental victim of an albur.

Death or tragedy is definitely on-sides for humor. Our Spanish teacher told us about a young Mexican entrepreneur who launched a video game about saving those trapped Chilean miners…while they were still trapped! As he explained, it wasn’t because they were Chilean…he would have done the same if they were Mexican! If you follow this reddit link, you’ll see a video of a float in a Mexican parade. The float is for the local search and rescue team, who stand (on the float) in a simulated demolished building. Watch closely, and you’ll see a bloody arm waving from under the rubble! This is, after all, the culture that brought the world calaveras, (literally skulls), short poems predicting the amusing, ironic, or poetically just way someone (at times rich or famous) will die.

Calaverita about a suegra (mother-in-law); do you really need it translated?

And of course, there is the famous story of the Mexican fans chanting “ehhhh, puto” at the World Cup. This vulgar chant (I wont give you a translation, just take my word for it) is very common in the Liga México, but FIFA threatened and then fined Mexico because its fans would not stop chanting it during every goal-kick. Despite pleas from the team and the government, the chant only grew louder, and continued. Eventually, FIFA gave up.

Clearly the whole crowd…

and the Mexican commercial which followed, when FIFA gave up trying!

Most Mexicans insist that while the word has several–all vulgar–meanings, the chant is in jest, and therefore permitted. Look at any YouTube video, and you’ll see this in play, which illustrates the Mexican view: it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. Said with a smile, even a slur becomes nothing more than joke between friends.

This is a universal principle. Even in English, we understand the difference tone, non-verbal cues, and context make. If a man greets a woman-friend with a simple “That’s a nice dress!” it would probably be taken as just a compliment. Change the response to “That’s a NICE dress!” with an eye-roll on NICE and you have a coded insult. Change it to “That’s a nice dreeeeeesssss!” with a leer on the last word and you have a harassment case. “That’s a nice dress?” with a verbal uptick on the end and you have an implied difference of opinion on the very concept. The words remain the same, the message varies greatly.

Mexico applies this same concept to humor. NOB, certain terms have become so politically incorrect that they are forever banned. Perhaps this reduces the frequency and hurt of offensive statements, perhaps not. It certainly makes people more wary. I will bet somebody reading the last paragraph thought “why should a man even be commenting on a woman’s dress?” Point made!

The need for humor to grease human interactions is eternal; words come and go. “Gay” was a slur before it became the title of Pride Marches. Irishmen calling each other “shanty” or “lace-curtain” was the beginning of many a fatal brawl, once upon a time. And don’t even begin to delve into the never-ending debate on the rules concerning use of the “N-word” within, and outside, the African-American community. Even the word “gringo” which simply derives from the concept of someone you can’t understand, falls into this category.

Words can hurt, no doubt. Yet they have only as much power as we give them. And no one wants to live in a humorless world. Just remember, “smile when you say that!”

The border gate swings both ways

I saw an article in the WaPo (“The little-noticed surge across the U.S.-Mexico border: It’s Americans heading south“) last weekend which provided some detail on the growing trend of Americans moving to Mexico.

Of course, the WaPo writer couldn’t help put a political comment in the article, quoting the mayor (that would be Presidente) of San Miguel de Allende saying, “Despite the fact that Donald Trump insults my country every day, here we receive the entire international community, beginning with Americans, with open arms and hearts.” Looks like no topic can be discussed without covering the Trump angle. And just as inevitably, the comments section (I know, I know, NEVER read the comments section!) was full of MAGA fanatics with useful comments like “if Mexico is so great, why are 100 million Mexicans trying to come here?” Sigh.

The bulk of the article had useful data on the trend. It seems to be driven by three sources. First, there are those 10,000 baby boomers retiring every day, and they have to go somewhere, and they don’t have much in retirement savings, and Mexico is cheap. Next are the numerous (600,000+) children of Mexican immigrants who were born in the States and have dual citizenship; some are returning to Mexico. Last, there are younger people who have internet-enabled work, and they (sometimes with family in tow) can live anywhere, and they choose Mexico.

How many total, and of each group? Nobody knows. Mexico has only a rudimentary capability to track arrivals and departures. Like the US, they do a good job at airports, not so much anywhere else. Mexico is implementing a more thorough system which would also work at the land/sea borders, but perhaps mañana. Mexico estimates 800,00; the US embassy in Mexico City says 1.5 million. The embassy estimate is probably based on STEP enrollments (NOTE: if you are an American expat living in Mexico, go online at the link and enroll in STEP; it helps the State Department keep track of you in case of emergency/natural disaster), so even that figure is probably an undercount.

Where are they? They are all over, but the largest concentrations are in Puerto Vallarta (35,000) Lake Chapala (20,000) and San Miguel (10,000). These totals are primarily the retirees and young internet workers; the dual national are spread all over, often based on from where in Mexico their families originally came. PV is a beach city of almost 400,000, and San Miguel has 100,000, so the expat totals there are noticeable but not dramatic. The 20,000 expats around Lake Chapala, a number which swells due to snowbirds, represent almost a third of the Mexican population in the municipality.

The WaPo article focuses on San Miguel de Allende, which has been the “hot” expat destination recently. The article does a good–if brief–job of describing expat activities and challenges. It also points out that the Mexican federal government is starting to take note of the advantages, and implications, of the growing American presence south of the border.

Despite all the negative press and unfortunate political commentary in Washington, Mexico remains both the top tourist destination for Americans (almost 37 million in 2018, and increasing) and the top expat destination. Just think what the numbers would be if the American media didn’t give non-stop coverage to violence and corruption!

Vampiritos!

Little vampires, but not to worry, they are the delicious kind, one might even say…succulent. Sorry, couldn’t resist.

We ended our series of local day trips by driving home along Lake Chapala’s south shore, through the village of San Luis Soyatlán. It is a tiny strip along the main highway with a few parallel streets both lakeside and mountainside, not unlike Ajijic. However, it is a pueblo real, not a mestizo gringo comunidad like Ajijic. In my experience, San Luis Soyatlán is mostly known for being a place with a carretera that is barely two cars wide, so when trucks navigate it, or when anybody stops to shop on the main street, a “one-way-at-a-time” backup ensues.

But why would anybody stop on the narrow main street, knowing what happens? And what are they stopping for, anyway? Well we found out.

Vampiritos. Little vampires, as it were. It seems San Luis Soyatlán is the birthplace of a refreshing Mexican cocktail that is now famous across the country: the Vampirito. The Vampirito begins with sangrita (itself a mix of OJ, tomato juice, chile, salt, and lime) poured on ice. Then they add a custom mix of grapefruit soda (called Squirt), more fresh-squeezed OJ, and of course, your personal selection of tequila. The result is a fruity, slightly sweet, slightly salty, carbonated drink with a little zing (remember the chile?) and a little (or a lot of) kick. The special signature of this drink is that it is often served in a large plastic bag with a straw, because regular customers complained that plastic cups spilled in their cars when driving over Mexico’s many topes!

So you see people walking around with gold-fish bags filled with blood red fluid and a straw, happily sipping away; no one would ever think of driving while drinking one, apparently.

You can get an 80 or 100 peso bag…more if you choose a better tequila.

Since it was 12:01, we caused the required traffic back up and pulled over on the wrong side of the street in front of one of the many stands which sell Vampiritos in San Luis Soyatlán.

Judy caused the line to back up because this was our first vampirito…
But she returned with two-fisted success!

Judy opted for cups, because the bags seemed too precarious while driving (for her, not me…no vampirito until I got home). The drinks are as advertised: refreshing and delicious, but dangerous, as there is no tequila taste despite watching the shots poured into the drink. One of the more enjoyable aspects of being an expat is trying flavor combinations that would have made me retch back home, only to learn those people aren’t crazy, this really does taste good!

San Joselito

José Sánchez del Río was a young boy growing up in the small town of Sahuayo, Michoacán, during the early 20th century. This made him an unremarkable character, but for the Cristero rebellion which broke out in 1926, and that’s where his story gets interesting.

The rebellion known in Mexico as La Christiada began when Presidente Plutarco Elías Calles sought to enforce the strong anti-religious (and specifically in 20th century Mexico, anti-Catholic Church) provisions of the 1917 constitution. The Church had been a vocal opponent of the revolution, and the victorious socialist government wrote provisions into that constitution basically separating Church and State. In 1926 however, Presidente Calles took this a step further, instituting fines for wearing a Roman collar in public, sentencing priests who criticized the government to prison for five years, seizing all Church property, closing all religious institutions, and dramatically limiting the number of priests allowed in the country in an attempt to eliminate the Church as a competing power center.

Religiously conservative states like Jalisco and Michoacán went into open revolt against the government, and a guerrilla war went on for three years. Total battle deaths topped 100,000 during the war, a proportional rate about half that of the US civil war. As is often the case in insurgencies both sides engaged in atrocities, and one of the victims was young Josélito.

He repeatedly sought to join his older brothers in the Cristero cause, but he was refused due to only being twelve years old. Eventually he was permitted to join as a flag bearer, then eventually a fighter. During a losing battle near his hometown of Sahuayo, he gave his horse to General Guizar Morfin, who escaped the battlefield while Josélito fought on and was captured.

Side chapel shrine in the Church where he was baptized and held prisoner

Josélito was held in his own village Church, which the government had turned into its military headquarters/prison. For two weeks, he was beaten, forced to watch an execution, and encouraged to renounce his faith. When this failed, his captors tortured him with a machete, then skinned the soles of his feet and forced him to walk to his own execution site, all the while encouraging his apostasy. Next to a shallow grave, he was repeatedly stabbed as he shouted “¡Viva Cristo Rey!” until he was shot in the head.

The way from the Church to where he was executed is memorialized with small silver footprints

The Cristero rebellion ended after a settlement negotiated under the auspices of the US Ambassador to Mexico, Dwight Whitney. Presidente Calles’ stringent laws remained on the books, but were largely unenforced. The Catholic Church and the Mexican federal government came to a modus vivendi which went through periods of resistance and repression that lasted all the way to 1992. In 2016, Pope Francis canonized Josélito.

The memorial where he was exeucted. The plaque has the words he told his mother why he wanted to join the Christeros: “Never before now has it been so easy to win Heaven for yourself!”

Since we were on the south side of the lake near the Jalisco-Michoacán border, it was a short drive to Sahuayo, where we were blest to see San Josélito’s Church/prison, and the site of his execution.

The place that makes arrows to hunt deer

Heavy traffic on the way into town…these guys would NOT yield

That’s the name (in Nahuatl) for the town where we’re making a short visit: Mazamitla (Mah-zah-meet-lah). The locals must have been good at arrow-making, because we haven’t seen many (any) deer. Mazamitla is a tiny pueblo of 12,000+ souls, nestled high in the mountains above the south side of Lake Chapala. When I say high, I mean it: it’s another 2000 ft above mile-high Ajijic, our home.

The federal government designated Mazamitla a Pueblo Magico or “magic town” in 2005. This is a special designation for the most interesting natural or tourist destinations. What is so special about a tiny mountain village that it warrants such a status?

Lotsa wood
indoors too
and in the courtyard
evevry pueblo has one of these

Pines. Buildings with wood frames and ornamentation. A climate even milder than lakeside, with averages around 70/50 degrees F. And its nickname is la suiza mexicana, Mexico’s Switzerland. Tapatios from Guadalajara flock here on the weekends to escape the heat and the noise of the big city: they turn the cabins and campgrounds into non-stop parties. We also wanted to take a break from the tropical sun, but we wanted peace and quiet, so we’re visiting during the week.

Nothing says “you’re out in nature” like animal heads on the walls

The amount of wood, especially pine, used in construction and decoration is conspicuous in Mazamitla. Then there is their early 20th century church, which has a vaguely Asian style.

Anybody else see pagodas?
Fairly modern interior

One of the local delicacies is Platillo de Sopa, or big-honking bowl of soup. With large cuts of beef, pork, chicken, corn, potatoes, carrots, a zuchini and a jalapeno, topped off with fresh limes, diced onions and cubed avocados. Probably a hearty stew for the nights when the temperature drops below 50!

I couldn’t wait while Judy took a picture

hearty breakfast
hearty dinner

There are a variety of eco-themed adventure parks, but for the less adventurous (us), we just walked down to the waterfall. Going mid-week at the end of the dry season meant we had the waterfall pretty much to ourselves. You can get a all-terrain vehicle for the day at several locations, all using standard Mexico rules of the road (“helmets? we don’t need no stinkin’ helmets!”).

Los Saltos waterfall
Up close & beneath
the walk back up gave me camino flashbacks

Everything we heard and saw indicates this small town has a split personality. The restaurants were very large and numerous. There were small “typically-tourist” souvenir shops, and many tourist-themed tours. And we heard from friends about the legendary parties on weekends. Yet here we were mid-week in a quiet little town populated almost entirely by locals who seemed genuinely surprised to see us show up in their restaurants and shops.

So if you’re looking for an eco-adventure tour and party, visit on the weekend. During the week, it’s only for the introverted at heart. The weather is always great.

Speaking in Tongue

After two years of Spanish classes (average size: four students and one teacher), two times a week, two hours per class, we seem to have reached a point of intelligibility. That is, after two years of college-level credit, we are able to understand and be understood (mas o menos) when conversing with locals en español. Which is something, and proves very useful around these parts. We now feel comfortable veering off the well-beaten expat path and travelling a little around Mexico, even to those places where a gringo is an unusual thing. More importantly, we can engage in the small conversations which grease the skids of day-to-day life.

Which is not to say we don’t have those momentary freezes when, for example, our gate guard suddenly asks “¿saben la contraseña por la puerta?” which sounds like “¿sabenlacontraseñaporlapuerta?” But we pause, and digest, and then the light goes on, and we respond “¡Si, por supuesto!” Nothing like being fluent, and I would be exaggerating to call us truly conversant, but we are making discernible progress.

Idiomatic expressions just have to be memorized, as is the case with any language. In English we “take a turn,” in Spanish they “give a turn.” In Spanish it “makes hot” and in English it “is hot.” Pronunciation is easier in Spanish, as all the letters have one-and-only-one sound and there are only a few consonants with exceptions. Spanish is very verb-based: verbs in their various tenses and conjugations tell you almost everything you need to know in the sentence. In English we would say “Give it to her.” It is a simple, complete thought, with an implied subject, action verb, and predicate (direct and indirect object…don’t worry, I won’t ask you to diagram the sentence!). While a bit vague, in context it makes complete sense. In Spanish, it would just be “Dáselo.” The form of verb “Dar” tells you it is an imperative command in the present tense, and the “to whom” (se or her) and “what” (lo or it) are just suffixes to the verb. Simple, right?

It gets complicated in the past tense. In English, we mostly use the simple past: I walked. Yes, we could use the more esoteric tenses such as “I was walking…” or “I had walked…” or even “I have been walking…” but really, how often do we use them? In Spanish they have two distinct tenses for the simple past: pasado/preterito and imperfecto. Each has its own rules for use, and different conjugations. The former is for actions already completed (among other causes), while the latter is for actions in process (again, among other things!). So in English I could say “When I walked there, I always walked slowly.” Both are simple past tenses in English and use “walked.” But en espanol, it would be “Cuando caminé allí, siempre caminaba lento. The first use of the verb “to walk” (caminar) is an action from the past already completed, so it is conjugated as preterito. The same verb is used again as a habitual action (the clue is siempre, or always) so it is conjugated as imperfecto. Got it? Yeah, me neither.

Native Spanish-speakers move flawlessly between the two tenses. If you were telling a story about things you did and how you felt at the time, the former would be preterito and latter imperfecto. It is as natural to them as the difference between right/write/rite is to an English-speaker. Depending on the context, you just know which one is…right.

One of the nice things about butchering Spanish among the Mexican people is they seem genuinely pleased you’re trying (apologies to my French friends, but this does not apply en francais!). If you use preterito when you should use imperfecto (or vice versa), they may correct you, but they will understand and nod and keep the conversation going…oftentimes with them speaking flawless English and you hacking away at español!

Climate changes

Take it easy, there, this is NOT a political post. I do smile every time I hear the phrase “climate change.” It’s such a self-evident truism: climate is a dynamic process, so it always is changing. Yet climate change as a slogan is so much better than global warming, which captured very little of what environmentalists were worried about. Anyway…

We are in the final month or so of our annual climate change. The dry season, which began around October, should end by June. The coming of the rains is attested to by the sounds of the rain-birds, which we hear clearly now throughout the day. The rain-birds are actually annual cicadas, and the buzz the males emit sounds distinctly like static on an analogue AM radio (only those of a certain age will even understand this reference). It is loudest in the early morning and early evening, or maybe that is just when other noises are absent so I notice it. Local legend is that the sound of the rain-birds indicates the rain will come in six weeks. We’ll see…probably about as accurate as forecasting winter on a rodent’s shadow.

We live in a high desert plateau, so one should not be surprised to find it dry. But because water is plentiful from the lake, we have abundant flora befitting our latitude (Hawaii) , if not our altitude (Denver). During the dry season, the mountains (which are of course not irrigated) turn brown.

It is hard to describe just how dry it gets here during the seven or eight months of the dry season. We had a few rain drops fall in December and January, probably because of El Niño (more on him later), but other than that, nada. Large dust piles build up alongside the roads, and work crews come out and shovel them up, otherwise they create mini dust storms as you drive by. Oh, and they would be a mud hazard once the rains do come.

It is so dry that the crop stubble from the last harvest does not decompose in the fields, so the farmers take to burning it. Of course, open field fires and a dry season beget uncontrolled burns in the mountains. One just crawled up the far side (nearer to Guadalajara) of the Sierra above Ajijic and is over-topping the peak as I write.

View from the Walmart parking lot shows the spread.

Not to worry, as there is a lot of terrain between the fire and most lakeside developments. Part of the tragedy of the extreme destruction during California’s wildfires is that the cost of land has pushed development ever further into the woods and canyons (also, buyers like to be among nature). Those same places used to burn with very little consequence; now they burn homes, livelihoods, lives. Something similar happens in Florida with sinkholes. The more development spreads atop a limestone peninsula, the greater likelihood a sinkhole will swallow a home. Here we have a few villas or small developments climbing the mountainside, but most development is concentrated nearer the lake, with adequate room to make fire-breaks, if necessary. Yet development continues apace, and views from up the mountainside are spectacular, so…

Meanwhile, the temperature has climbed to the low 90’s under an intense tropical sun. The snowbirds have migrated home NOB, and many full-time residents have taken trips, as this is the ideal time to avoid the “worst” weather we have. Planning a getaway so as to return for the cooler, more lush rainy season is an art form. Some don’t realize it may be even more difficult this year, because of El Niño.

This weather pattern (officially the El Niño/Southern Oscillation or ENSO) is caused by surface water temperature changes in the Pacific Ocean, and when it (or its obverse, La Niña) happens, it results in major weather pattern changes. Climatologists confirmed El Niño for 2019, which resulted in a cooler, wetter winter here: remember those odd rainy days in December, and the run on firewood in January?

You can see that the most severe El Niño weather changes do not affect central Mexico, but we are close to the colder/wetter conditions for winter, and warmer/drier conditions for summer. Luckily, 2019’s El Niño is a mild or “weak” one, so the effects should be lessened for all. But locally we might expect a delayed or reduced rainy season.

Why are these weather patterns named El Niño and La Niña, literally the boy and the girl in Spanish? The warmer surface water temperature in the Pacific was first noticed by South American fishermen, who also noted it always began in December. While el niño means the boy, the capitalized version refers only to one specific boy, appearing also in December: the Christ Child. La Niña became the title for the opposite condition.

More than you probably wanted to know, but if it rains on your Polynesian vacation trip this summer, remember, I warned you the climate was changing!

Trips to the vet

An entry on the continuing sage of everyday life as an expat in Mexico.

Last week, as I walked our dog Tucker around the entry to our development, he stopped, as is his custom, to smell this and that, eat some grass, and do other quintessentially dog things. And then at one point, he leaned over and snarfed something. I called him over, and whatever he had, it was firmly in his snout as he desperately tried to swallow it before I could extract it. I stuck my fingers in between his jaws and pulled them apart, but my hand slipped, he bit down on my fingers (ouch!), I let go, and he swallowed it, whatever it was.

Dog poisonings are a thing here, but I wasn’t too concerned because we were inside our development property. Still, there are all kinds of things in our tropical paradise that a dog shouldn’t eat.

A day or so later, he vomited a little. Then the next day, he did it again. He stopped drinking water. On Friday he vomited one more time, and on Saturday, he refused to eat breakfast for the first time in nine years. And we were off to the vet on Saturday. The day before Easter. The week when everything in Mexico is closed for the Semana Santa holiday.

Although the vet had been closed Thursday and Friday, we were in luck: they were open Saturday until 1:00 pm. We took him in and waited about twenty minutes. They examined Tucker and took an x-ray: I am sure I got a few roentgens myself, as I helped secure him on the table. I wasn’t even aware they had started the machine as I leaned over and pinned the dog on his side in a “stretch” position. Oh, well, just radiation, right?

Sure enough, something had severely irritated his stomach and it was swollen. He was also dehydrated. They put an intravenous port in his right front paw and gave him a bag of fluid. He also got the first of three daily shots of a combination of anti-inflammatory, antibiotic, and vitamins.

The doctor told us to come back Easter morning for the second shot. We asked “aren’t you closed?” and he said “yes, but we’ll meet you here.” We arranged to meet at 8:00 am. The nurse checked the dog and said he didn’t need another bag of fluids, so she gave him a shot and we were on our way in ten minutes.

On Monday morning we returned for the final shot. They examined Tucker again and we reported he was not vomiting, he was eating and drinking normally and had recovered his energy. They removed his IV port and told us to return on Wednesday for an ultrasound just to make sure, so we made the appointment.

After the ultrasound, the vet told us Tucker’s gallbladder was still a little inflamed, and he had aspirated some vomit into his bronchial tubes. We got some meds to address both issues and agreed to a final follow up visit in a month.

So we had four vet visits (one an emergency visit on a holiday), an x-ray, an ultrasound, three shots, one bag of IV fluid, and two prescription meds: one month-long oral fluid and one ten-day set of pills. Care to guess the total cost?

Tucker, on one of his beds, with a special blanket, objecting to someone lighting fireworks

Before I reveal the damage, I must point out that while most things are much less expensive in Mexico, there are some mitigating factors. Veterinary services are not in high demand here. Many people leave dogs exposed on roofs or behind fences (alone) all the time just as noisy guards. Dogs are mostly working animals; if they don’t work, they are abandoned. We have many vets, dog parks, and shelters lakeside due to the expats’ importation of the concept of “pets.”

So I wasn’t expecting a truly, ridiculously-low price. The total was $5,700 pesos, or about $300 US dollars. I rarely left a vet’s office in the States for one routine visit for less. So a happy ending, except I doubt Tucker learned anything from all this except he likes to go for rides in the car.