Surprise!

Anybody who has known me for even a short time knows I don’t like surprises. In fact, I really don’t like surprises. There is a reason I have never had a surprise party, and why I spent so much of my career doing strategic planning or scenarios exercises, all to eliminate or mitigate the effects of surprise.

Our LR mini-split sits serenely

So the past few weeks have been a lesson in patience as I deal with some surprises. The first came when we contracted to have two mini-split style air conditioning units installed in our casa: one in the living room, one in the bedroom. As I previously posted, the a/c is only necessary  for a few weeks in May and June, but we figured why endure even that if it’s not necessary? The vendor came from Guadalajara; he told us it would take a little more than a day to complete. Today we are on day three, stretching over the weekend, because they ran out of cable on Friday, but that is no longer surprising after a year in Mexico. What was a surprise was late on day one, when I heard the vendor yelling “Señor, señor! El Agua!” I ran outside, where they were installing the condenser unit on top of my bodega. There was the youngest member of the team, valiantly sitting on top of the ledge and pushing with all his strength on a power drill, while water gushed straight up at him from the water pipe he had just drilled through.

Picture a young man kneeling on that ledge…
The blue pipe was agua

Did I mention it was a power drill? As in an electrical device, still plugged in? Surrounded by gushing water?  Visions of lawsuits danced in my head, but then I remembered this is Mexico, and a lawyer is not the first resort in every case. We got the young man and the drill out of harm’s way, then went to turn off the water. Now I had been told that the water shutoff was built into the carport floor, clearly marked agua. But when we opened it, (surprise!) there was a customized handle which we did not have the right key to turn off the water. It seems this is a municipal shut-off, not my home water shut-off. The water kept pouring out, luckily only in my carport and down the drain. We went searching for someone who might know where the shut-off was, and finally found the community groundskeeper, who calmly walked up to my exterior wall hedge, reached in, and turned off the water. Of course!

Not this one!
This one!

 

 

 

 

 

I never would have imagined a water line in the roof of my bodega (or a shut-off valve in my hedge), but it turns out that was where the builders ran the line to get water to my rooftop mirador. When all your utility lines are built into a stucco and brick structure, you can’t just tap on the wall or use a stud finder to see what’s underneath. So the vendor just drilled and hoped for the best; it worked well on the other three holes they drilled. We had a plumber come out and cap the line (for the moment). As I was typing this, the vendor just came to tell me my fuze box is configured differently than he expected, so now we have an electrician coming to address that. I am betting on day four.

Meanwhile, we are preparing for a possible visit back to the States to see our kids and grandkids.  I say possible because while I have airline tickets, I don’t yet have authorization from the Mexican government to leave. See I was on a one year temporary visa, set to expire February 1st, but I wanted to apply for a permanent resident visa (same as my dear wife already has). I knew we were planning a January visit, so I started the paperwork early in September: thus I would have my Permanente all done well beforehand. When we hit early December with no final status, I knew I was in trouble: Mexico goes on holiday from early December through January 6th, and I was flying January 11th!

Luckily, the Mexican government faces this issue all the time, so they have a procedure set up for gringos to apply for a special exception which lets us leave the country (and return) while we are still in process for our visa. I started my paper work the second week of December, and it usually take a week to complete, but I ran into the same holiday problem: no one at work to process my exception. Now, someone in my situation can always just get up and go and ignore the paperwork; no one is keeping me here. But if I leave without a visa or an exception, my status upon returning to Mexico is Tourist and I get to start the process all over again!

Final Update: sorry to those who saw this post earlier this week, before I finished it. I thought I was previewing it for editing, and I hit the publish button instead. So, the air conditioning team did finish on day three, despite my prediction. And today I got my special exception permit, so I can legally leave and return. I said many prayers this past week for patience, trusting it would all work out, and it did.  I still have a lot of room to grow in terms of patience, but then again, can you ever have too much?

Communications

Closing out the series on utilities, let’s talk television, telephone, and internet.

First, you have to understand that every country has rules and regulations (i.e., laws) on who can broadcast what within their borders. These rules go back to the dawn of the broadcast radio era, then were broadened and reinforced when television was invented. Cable television was a challenge to these rules, but could be accomodated. Satellite and streaming blow the national rules apart. So while it may be illegal for a US firm to broadcast its signals into Mexico, it is not your fault if you receive them. And if someone else receives a signal and resells it to you, they may be liable, but you probably are not. Perfectly clear? No, of course not, but this is useful background to understand the details I will cover now.

In Mexico, you can sign up for Mexican cable and satellite services as well as receive signals over-the-air. What you will get are channels in packages designed for the Mexican mass market, with some English language channels thrown in. If that does not satisfy your needs, you can buy a satellite dish from a US or Canadian provider and install it in Mexico; there are experts here waiting to assist you. The service provider is not supposed to provide service in Mexico, but they cannot control where you pick up their signal. If you let them know you are in Mexico, they will cancel your service, but if you don’t, you just pay them as you would if your home was in Toronto or Tampa. Sometimes the geography can pose complications. I hear that Shaw (a major Canadian satellite provider) is switching to a new satellite which is difficult to target from Mexico. Likewise, some packages available in the States may not be available in Mexico (I still don’t know exactly why). You can get a basic channel package for less than $100 dollars a month, which gets you the major networks, sports, and entertainment channels.

If you have a decent internet connection, you can watch television with devices such as Roku, Amazon Firestick, or Kodi, etc. These are vehicles to access content on the internet, which may require additional costs for the actual service provider (think Amazon, Netflix, Hulu, etc.). In some cases you just buy these services, but in some cases those pesky national laws interfere and you need a IP masker which fools the internet into thinking you are in whatever country you choose. Some enterprising individuals will also sell unlimited pay services which they are accessing and retransmitting. These deals are usually “too good to be true” in that they are violations of the copy- and broadcast-rights of the original service provider.  Service providers and access devices makers work together to shut down such pirate resellers, resulting in spotty service. Costs for streaming are very a la carte, meaning prices are all over the map and depend on what level of quality and access you desire.

Speaking of the interwebs, rural Mexico is where the US was 10 years ago. The main provider is TelMex, the phone system, in competition with Mexican cable providers like IZZI and Telecable. Most access is shared, meaning high-usage periods result in slow service, which is generally neither particularly high-speed nor consistent. We have 10 MBs download with about .5 MB upload via TelMex, sufficient to watch TV/streaming. There is a high-speed, fiber-optic cable system considering running direct service to our area this year, which would be a significant leap forward (say 50-75 MBs in a basic package). Some satellite internet service is available, but very expensive.  Despite this, many expats who work on the internet find ways to obtain sufficient bandwidth to work from lakeside.

The phone system in Mexico was only deregulated recently, so change is underway. Previously Telmex was a subsidiary (and a near monopoly) under América Móvil, which belongs to Carlos Slim; depending on his holdings and the value of the Peso, he is either the richest or one of the richest people on the planet on any given day. A basic landline or simple cell plan is very cheap, and often includes free calls to the US. Some expats keep their US cell plans, although if you use all your data continuously outside the States, they might cancel on you. Many expats use free or low-cost VOIP (Voice Over Internet Protocol) systems such as Vonage or MagicJack. Different from the States, many Mexicans use WhatsApp, an asynchronous messaging application which permits voice, text, photo or video sharing either over cell data or wifi.

Phew! That is a lot to digest, and more importantly, it is changing all the time, so consider this a snapshot at best. The short version is: like most things, basic communications service in Mexico is inexpensive. As an expat, you can access most anything communications-wise you want to in Mexico, but it may not be easy or cheap.

But they still don’t have “any stinkin’ badges!”

Utility is a relative concept

I previously covered the ins and outs of electric power in Mexico. What about the other utilities? I’ll leave television, the internet, and phones for another day. Here are the other mainstays.

Let’s start with the postal system, or Correos de México. Getting mail directly from NOB to your home address is entirely a crap-shoot. It may disappear or it may show up months late. Based on some magazine subscriptions I transfered down as a test, you can anticipate a 3-4 month lag. However, there is a work-around: many expats sign up for local PO boxes in Texas and mail transfer services which (in effect) hand carry your snail mail down to lakeside. So if you have to have regular mail delivery, there is a way to get it. As to local mail, all I get are electric and telephone bills which always come on time. Regular mail is delivered to our development whenever the mailman has access to his bicycle. Package delivery varies: Amazon Mexico is pretty fast and consistent; some stateside ordering (including Amazon USA) can get hung up either because they don’t use international shipping services (think DHL for Mexico) or if there are customs issues with your order.

Roof top tinaco

Water varies in quality and type of service based on where you live.  Most municipal and well water is not potable, so folks have bottled water delivered in bulk for drinking and cooking. Most Mexican homes have a aljibe or cistern which gradually fills up from a low pressure municipal feed.  A pump moves the water from the cistern to a tinaco or water tank on the roof which provides a store of water under pressure, which is also heated by the sun (but that is as hot as it gets for those houses). Some expats add pumps and heaters to address the pressure and heat limitations. If you live in a more modern development, especially one built with expats in mind, you will probably have a community water system which is filtered and pressurized. We also have an infrared water purification filter for our house so whatever comes out of the faucet is as good as anywhere NOB. We have a propane water heater which provides ample hot water. Since the local water is very hard, we must use a water softener. Water costs us about $15 USD monthly, including our fountain and landscaping needs.

That mention of propane in the last paragraph was not a typo: propane is the fuel of choice in Mexico. We have a sizable propane tank in a bodega in front of our house, which a gas truck comes and tops off whenever we run low. We use propane for cooking, grilling, heating water and a single fireplace. A gas refill runs about $70 USD and lasts around five to six weeks. Gas trucks cruise the neighborhoods, playing unique company jingles over loudspeakers and always ready to refill a tank.

One of the smaller trash trucks

The trash team comes by on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. They ride a huge truck with giant trash bags hanging off the sides. They leap off the truck, grab whatever they find in or near the trash can, and toss it to the top where the other team members sort/throw it into the appropriate bag, and away they go. Trash fees are built into our homeowners association, which is approximately $90 a month (covers outside maintenance, security, etc).

Sewage is also covered by the HOA fee, and just disappears down to drain (as it should be). However, our situation is unique as again we live in a development built for expats and Tapatios (the nickname for people from Guadalajara). In most of Mexico outside the big cities, tourist and expat zones, the waste system is not designed for paper products. You’ll see signs in Spanish and English reminding you to throw all toilet paper in the trash can in the bathroom. This is a hard habit for many visitors and expats to adopt; the alternative is a clogged toilet. You must determine, before you buy/rent/visit, what type of waste system is in the casa you are considering.

Sorry for all the nitty-gritty details, but that’s a part of expat life!

Un próspero año nuevo

If you stop and think about it, New Year and its eve are odd things to celebrate. We know time is an abstract, human concept.  We know it is relative: the world uses the Gregorian calendar and tomorrow is 2018, but it is 4713 in the Chinese calendar, 5778 in the Jewish calendar, and 2561 in the Buddhist calendar. So what difference does it make?

Even the precise time of the calendar change is relative. North America is the last continent to experience it, and New York City is the focus. I recall as a child celebrating the New Year as it was broadcast live from NYC, even though we lived in the central time zone in Indiana. Now we can watch as cities in every time zone cross the New Year and celebrate, all in realtime. But why celebrate it at all?

That such celebrations are universal is undeniable. All those calendars I mentioned have a New Year’s Day, with its accompanying celebration. Even long-dead cultures left behind stories of celebration of a change in the annual cycle. It all points to one thing: the fundamental optimism of the human race. It seems that people everywhere and in all times hope for better times with the change of that calendar page.

Optimism is a double-edge sword. I know people who invest great time and energy trying to ensure the very best New Year’s eve date, party, or event, only to feel disappointment creeping into their midnight countdown. Now we all know the fate of our year is not determined by New Year’s eve, but what accounts for all that optimism in the first place?

Certainly human history holds no cause for such optimism: last century was the bloodiest yet, and one in which we eventually developed multiple means to destroy humanity or the planet itself, belying the notion of “the right side of history.” Why would history have an arc that bends toward morality, or liberty, or love for that matter? Of course, some (including me) believe history is unfolding according to a plan, although this guarantees nothing positive in the meantime, just a positive finale.

Perhaps that optimism we all feel is a tiny residue of a deeper longing that one day everything will be better. This is rightly called Hope, and it is not the same as optimism. We often use the word hope casually to indicate something we wish would happen. Hope is actually a form of trust: we hope things will end well because we have been assured, or promised, they will. So while history and our own experiences will often provide an overwhelming rebuttal to our optimism, hold on to the hope. Hope is a good thing.

Of course, one quiet day sometime after the New Year, ask yourself this: Not only what do you hope for, but why do you hope?

Feliz Navidad

Here on Christmas day, just a quick post to send you a simple thought on this holy day.

Perhaps you’re having a spectacular Christmas, full of good cheer and Good News: seeing old friends, gathering with family, enjoying quiet time and parties and thoughtful presents and weather which completes the Christmas tableau for you. I certainly hope this is the case. If so, know that all this is the result of the love of an all-knowing and almighty Creator who only wills all the best for you, and wishes simply to share in your joy.

Maybe this year has been hard for you: rancorous politics, a difficult job or boss, time spent away from family and friends or just alone, even the serious illness or death of a loved one. I pray this was not the case, but all of us have had–or will have–such an experience. If such was the case for you, know that even in your darkest times, you live in the palm of a God-Who-Is-Love, who is all-compassionate in that He suffers alongside you.

Most of us had a year somewhere in between. In that case, know that whether we believe in Him or not, The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. If we run to meet Him, He welcomes us even with all our frailties and imperfections. If we stand and wait, skeptical or suspicious of Him, He coaxes us constantly with signs and wonders. If we run from Him, he pursues us with haste, as a father pursues a child headed for a busy intersection.

Such a God is hard to fathom, but then, what else explains a King of Kings born in a manger?

Merry Christmas!

Whither the Weather

We had our annual poor weather one week ago, when the overnight temperatures plunged to the high 40s while the daytime highs still lingered around 70 degrees. We even had a Saturday which was overcast with some rain in the middle of the dry season! Which led me to fact-check one of the best arguments for living lakeside: the incredible weather.  Having spent almost an entire year lakeside, I feel I can now make a better analysis of the “world’s 2nd best climate.”

Let’s start with the biggest statistical category: beautiful days. About 80% of the time, I wake up and make my plans without considering the weather in any way. I take my dog out for a quick walk in the dark at 6:45 am while still in my pajamas, because, well it’s dark and the weather won’t matter (and no, there are no pictures; you can thank me later).

If we’re in the rainy season, I know the rain may be intense, but generally not last long. If we are in the dry season, it may seem chilly (50 degrees, remember, I am in my PJs!), but once the sun comes up it will warm up considerably, around 70 degrees at least. You don’t need a coat, or a sweater; you may want a hat or sunscreen, but that is about all.

What about the rest of the time? About 15% of the time it gets a little too warm and dry. This is at the end of the dry season, especially the month of May leading into the first few weeks of June, when the rains return. Temperatures can get into the 90s, with a blazing sun. Humidity remains low, so it is not too uncomfortable, but the sustained heat really warms up the brick-and-stucco casas, which will continue to bake for an hour or so after sundown. The predictable weather pattern makes this time of year a favorite for travel away from lakeside.

The final 5% is too cold, generally in short bursts in December or January. Once again, the thick house walls act to insulate, this time keeping it a little cooler than outside temperatures in the late morning. Now when I say too cold, let me admit this is VERY relative.  During any cloudy or cool day in the dry season, you can see Mexicans wearing ski vests, hoodies, or coats and gloves. Long time expats complain of “thin-blood” and similarly break out sweaters, long pants, and coats. You can easily identify the recent arrivals (like me) by our short-sleeves; new expats from the Great White North even sport year-round shorts and sandals (with white socks, natch!).

We still have no means of heating our home; we do have a nifty heated mattress pad, which means we get a toasty warm bed in winter. As I mentioned last post, we are putting in mini-split air conditioners in our living room and master bedroom, just for those few hot weeks. We have some warmer clothing which is mainly for travelling back to the States. That is all the accommodation to inclement weather we’ve made.

Whether our weather is the “second best in the world” or not, after a year I am prepared to say it is not an exaggeration to call it amazingly comfortable. What stands out is that any semblance of regular weather (say rain or wind or humidity) is so surprising as to require notice. Otherwise, it is just right.

One final note: I thought about including some photos of how folks dress around here, but then thought better of it. No one wants to be famous on the internet as an example of peculiar sartorial splendor!

We need more POWER

Actually, we don’t need more power, but we’re getting some anyway. We just had solar panels installed, which led me to reconsider one aspect of expat life in general: utilities.

Utilities are something you take for granted NOB. The water works and is potable, the electricity is always on and the voltage constant, mail is delivered whether “sleet or snow” and sewage just goes away. This is not always the case lakeside. Of course you pay for the luxury of not thinking about your utilities NOB, while here in Mexico we might pay less, with less certainty.

For example, consider electrical power. The line voltage can wax or wane, so you may need to purchase a voltage regulator, or use local appliances designed to operate in such conditions.  Power is generally stable here, although we do get occasional outages during especially powerful storms in the rainy season. Given we endured several such outages in our last apartment in Arlington, Virginia, I can hardly complain. My dear wife tells me our electric bills NOB for a small apartment averaged $105 monthly; I wouldn’t know, as I never paid a utility bill in my life (thanks, dear!). Like typical Americans, we had a TV running constantly, air conditioned/heated to 70 degrees year-round, and had all manner of computers and appliances plugged in continuously.

Electric power in Mexico is heavily subsidized by the federal government.  There are varying rates for electric use, with the smallest use being very cheap. Once you cross over into high use (called by the acronym DAC) your rates triple. This is meant to deter energy waste, but it is still cheap by NOB standards. The DAC measurement is based on a running 12 month average, so it is not a one-time trip wire, but once you go into DAC you stay at the triple rate until your average goes completely below the limit.

I was really focussed on NOT being an ugly American energy waster when we moved down, so I was a fanatic the first month at turning off lights, unplugging small appliances, etc. Then my first bill came.

Now that bi-montly bill only totaled about $27 USD per month. But as you can see, the usage arrow is way over in the red, the dreaded DAC. ¡A poco!  Our bills hovered in the same area the rest of the year. Meanwhile, we sweated through a particularly hot end of the dry season in May and June, which forced us to reconsider the standard no-heat-and-no-air conditioning mantra of lakeside.  But if we went with mini-split air conditioners, we would bust DAC permanently.

All of which led us to consider installing solar panels. The purchase and complete installation of four panels with microinverters and a monitoring system ran us approximately $3000 USD, which is still cheap. And yes, I know that even considering the permanent DAC costs, this was not a great move in terms of return on investment. It was more about peace of mind while not worrying about our comfort. We’ll soon follow-up with two mini-split air conditioners.  Even after that, our electrical usage should be back down into the low or very low range.

Our array

More about the other utilities in future posts!

La Guadalupana

From our collection

Yesterday was the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which you might have missed. You can’t travel in Mexico, or even a Mexican barrio in the States, and not notice the Mexican people’s overwhelming attraction to the Virgin Mary. You will see murals, paintings, sculptures, and even tattoos with the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, “La Guadalupana.”

Typical street shrine

You might think this is a Catholic thing, but it goes way beyond that. Even secular Mexicans and the growing “Nones” still show an uncanny respect for La Guadalupana.  She has transcended religion and become something special–and this in a country where almost anything can be a source of humor!

Most people are familiar with the story: the Virgin Mary appeared to a local Méxica man named Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin during December, 1531. She told him to ask the Bishop build a church on Tepeyac hill. Juan Diego asked but was rebuffed by the skeptical cleric, who asked for a sign. Our Lady directed Juan Diego to gather roses which had (surprisingly) bloomed on the hill; he carried them to the Bishop in his cloak (tilma). When he spilled the roses at the Bishop’s feet, his tilma revealed a spectacular and unique image of Our Lady. The tilma remains intact and on display in the resulting Basilica in Tepeyac.

The tilma image

Regardless of how you feel about miracles in general or this one in particular, what may be the most amazing part is what happened next.

Recall from my earlier post that the Méxica empire had collapsed in 1521 under the twin pressures of Hernán Cortés and diseases brought by the Spanish soldiers. Ten years on, the Catholic missionaries who accompanied the conquistadors had made little headway. While the Méxica people were shocked by the collapse of their proud civilization, nothing that happened undermined their faith. While some locals near the coast thought Cortés and his men might be the return of the god Quetzalcoatl, the Méxica leaders pretty quickly figured out the Spaniards were not gods. The Méxica religion included stories of impending catastrophe which their leaders sometimes invoked to reinforce their position of power (“Look, I prevented the end of the world!”). One story Moctezuma used was a prophecy about the fall of Tenochtitlan caused by two-headed warriors. The metal-clad conquistadors on horseback certainly fit the bill as two-headed bearers of the apocalypse! The Méxica people were demoralized, but what happened fit the precepts of their faith, and they found the sacrificial Savior of the friars to be either confusing or ridiculous. Proselytization went slowly as  result, until the tilma came to light.

While documentary evidence for the apparition only dates to 1648/49 (Spanish and Nahuatl accounts, respectively) and is therefore historically suspect, there is a 1568 account by an English prisoner which describes the tilma image as an object of veneration. The image on the tilma is an exotic mix of Catholic and Méxica traditions, which the Méxica people quickly embraced. Whatever happened on that hill (now) in Mexico City, the heretofore resistant Méxica people became overwhelmingly and persistently Catholic as a result.  That alone qualifies as a miracle.

One final image, again from nuestra casa

Everything you know is wrong (II)

Moctezuma, flashy dresser

Another installment of this occasional series, this one on the Aztecs. You recall the Aztecs, no doubt, the sprawling Mesoamerican empire under Montezuma, who confronted and was later destroyed by the Spanish Conquistador Hernando Cortes.

Let’s start by correcting a few simple translation differences: Hernando Cortes is Hernán Cortés in the original Spanish, while Montezuma is the more popular–but less correct–transliteration of the Aztec leader’s name: the more correct version is Moctezuma.  I doubt the US Marine Corps will be correcting their hymn anytime soon (“from the halls of Montezuma”, and it is a nuanced pronunciation change, so “As you were, Marines!”). Neither of these points matter much, and are easily explained by the difficulties in translating between vastly different language groups.

The more important change goes back to that term Aztecs. See, there were no Aztecs. From what we know of the empire around Tenochtitlan at that time, the people called themselves Méxica, which represented a new name denoting an alliance of powerful city states (primarily Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco), and the language they spoke was Nahuatl. When you run into many difficult tl phonemes in Mexican place names, blame it on Nahuatl. If you read the Spanish accounts of the conquest, there is no mention of the Aztecs; the Spaniards referred only to the Méxica. (As an aside, if you want to read an amazing adventure story, there is an English language translation of Bernal Díaz del Castillo’s eye-witness account of the conquest, which is gripping!).

So whence Aztecs? The Méxica people’s origin story was that they descended from a tribe who lived in a legendary place called Aztlan, and were thus “from Aztlan” or “Aztecas” in Nahuatl. It was an important term of ancestral relationship, much like my family claiming to be Irish, when we have more German ancestors than any other ethnic group, and we’re all Americans, anyway.

This interesting historical and linguistic fact (the Méxica, not the Neary’s) was irrelevant until the 19th century, when a German explorer conducted an expedition into Mexico and wrote about the Méxica origin story, calling them Aztecs. His work was cited by William Prescott, a famous American historian who wrote History of the Conquest of Mexico in 1843, long considered the seminal work on the subject. Prescott used the appellation Aztecs for the Méxica, and it stuck.

It makes much more sense that a country named México was inhabited by a people named the Méxica; less so the Aztecs. While the Méxica origin story is important, it was probably a mistake to re-name their culture for it. Imagine a historian of the future noting that in the 21st century, there were people living around a lake in Mexico, and their origin story was they were Expats, so they must have been from a heretofore undiscovered place called Expatia. In some sense it would be technically correct, but not in any sense right. The next time you here a reference to the Aztecs, stick up for the Méxica!

When Worlds Collide

No, not the 1951 science fiction classic (and you’re dating yourself if you even remember that movie), I’m thinking of the line from the opening song to the Rocky Horror Picture Show (“Science Fiction/Double Feature”). As in “But when worlds collide, said George Pal to his bride, I’m gonna give you some terrible thrills.”

Actually, there is nothing so dramatic to report here. The title just occurred to me as I considered what it is like to live in another culture during a holiday season.

One sample menu. Price in pesos equals ~$10 USD

It really hit home a week ago Wednesday, when Judy and I were hiking. As we were nearing our casa, I said, “that was a great hike. I think tomorrow will be pretty quiet; do we have anything planned?” Judy said “Just Thanksgiving.” Yes, I had completely forgotten the most American of all holidays. Oh, we had plans, including a traditional dinner with friends at a local restaurant. Because of the large expat population, many local restaurants serve up a traditional Thanksgiving feast. I even had a little warning, as Canadian Thanksgiving falls on the second Monday of October, and was dutifully celebrated by Canadian expats and local restaurants lakeside.

Thanksgiving week here coincided with the start of the Mexican fiesta season.  The third Monday in November (November 20th this year) commemorates the 1910 Revolution (Día de la Revolución) which overthrew the dictator Porfirio Díaz. The weekend leading up Día de la Revolución has been adopted by Mexican commercial interests as Buen Fin (Good End, as in “buen fin de semana” or “good weekend”, which is the Mexican equivalent of Black Friday). Interesting to note that the stores did not try to purloin a religious holy day, but instead chose a secular holiday.

The very next day was the start of the patronal feast for San Andrés (St. Andrew).  Each town has a patron saint, and celebrates a novena (nine day fiesta) in their honor. This includes bands playing at dawn, fireworks until midnight, parades sponsored by different groups, singing, dancing, rides and beer/food stalls and items for sale on the closed streets around the plaza…each night! San Andrés feast is November 30th, but for some reason (Mexicans don’t require much reason for this) the fiesta is extended this year all the way to December 3rd.

That date is muy importante, as the next day begins the novena (yes, another nine days of national fiesta) for Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose feast is December 12th. Mexicans of all ages hold Mary in special regard and this is a very special time for them. But you can see where this is going, because on December 16th, the novena before Christmas begins with posadas (nightly street processions recalling the Holy Family’s search for an inn in  Bethlehem, but these processions end with house parties). New Year’s eve is much the same as NOB, but is followed by Día de Reyes (Three Kings Day) on January 6th, which is the traditional day for giving children gifts in Mexico.

Basically, from November 20th until January 6th, not much gets done lakeside (or in Mexico, for that matter), and there is always some reason to celebrate.

And for those still wondering why I began this post with a clip from Rocky Horror: well, last Thanksgiving, I posted (on FaceBook) a link to the classic song “Alice’s Restaurant.” I thought I would show a little range with my musical selection this year…after all, “its just a jump to the left!”