Culture – Page 12 – Pat the Expat

America’s Race Problem

I seriously considered leaving this post empty. Just a title. An obscure existential point? Was it not really there? Was it a fragile white page? Would you infer what I was implying?

I also considered starting with a provocative quote, like:

But there is no neutrality in the racism struggle…One either allows racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial inequities, as an antiracist. There is not in between safe space of ‘not racist.’ The claim of ‘not racist’ neutrality is a mask for racism.
Ibram X. Kendi, “How to be an Antiracist”

But such language is the jargon of the activist, leaving no room for discussion, no way to exchange ideas. It is the language of exclusion, not reason. So let us reason together.

Contra Kendi, does America have a race problem? If so, what is it? And then what must be done?

First it pays to define the problem (always, says the engineer-by-training). If we ask “does America have a race problem?” we necessarily imply something unique. If everybody everywhere has a race problem (and they do), and America’s is the same as everywhere else’s, well then, there is nothing American to discuss. We could talk about racism in general, and why people instinctively distrust those who look differently. Let’s accept that as a fact (people do distrust “the other”) and let’s look at what may be unique about America.

America prides itself as a nation of immigrants. America calls itself a nation committed not to a race or creed, but to an idea: freedom. France sent the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World as a gift to America, in recognition of those self-evident truths we hold so dear: “. . . that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable (sic) rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

Yet America practiced slavery while enacting those words. It massacred Native Americans, abandoned freed slaves, derided Irish and Italian refugees, exploited Chinese laborers and imprisoned Japanese Americans. Certainly these facts alone make the case that America has a racism problem. Except every country and race has similar stories. The only unique thing here is the glaring discrepancy between actions and ideals.

To be uniquely American, the racism would need to have some distinct American characteristic. Not all these groups were immigrants, and other countries in the New World display similar discrimination between those who were here, those who came, and those who “mixed.” Mexico’s history is replete with struggles that can be directly tied back to Peninsulares (Spaniards born in España), Criollos (Spaniards born in Nueva España), Mestizos (of mixed race), and Ejidos (from the Mesoamerican peoples). Not all the groups subject to American racism were–to borrow an anachronism from today–people of color (although “Know Nothings,” the Proud Boys of their day, tried to paint the Irish and Italians as “white n-words”).

Run the tape of American history forward, and what do you find? The Irish and Italians consolidate and gain power. Latinos arrive in waves, either returning home with agricultural or economic seasons or assimilating as the second largest American ethnic minority group (although they are a disparate, heterogeneous group). Asian Americans are mirroring the patterns of the Latino population (and will eventually become the third largest ethnic group), only they are succeeding faster and in a more dramatic fashion. Elite academic institutions actively discriminate against various Asian Americans because–strictly relying on test scores–they would crowd out all other ethnic groups in the student body. Native Americans remain such a small contingent as to be statistical outliers: that they have not done well is obvious, but they’ve done better than some indigenous groups (try to find some Mexica, for example).

Which leaves African Americans. Their story, which we memorialize each February during African American History month, is unique in that they are the only such group brought to the land of freedom in chains. They are the only such group that had a governmental policy to free them (the Civil War and Reconstruction), yet they are also the only group abandoned by the same federal government (federal policy toward Native Americans never considered making them full members of American society, which was the initial goal of Reconstruction). These are historical facts.

These facts are often cited by the anti-racist, white fragility theories of Mr. Kendi and others. But do the facts support the theories and do the theories accurately describe the problem? If America is systematically racist to its core, why do millions of brown-skinned peoples quite literally march to the southern border begging to get in? They might have been excused for their ignorance once upon a time, but today, the internet has all the data they need. Why do thousands of Asians take a spot in administrative queues that may last years or decades? Why have three-quarters of the emigrants of Africa–since 1990–attempted to locate in America, where their black skin dooms them to second class status?

Something different, not systemic white racism, is going on here. If it was systemic and all-encompassing, a Jamaican-Indian couple would not have chosen to raise their daughter as “black” in 1960s Oakland, and we would not have our first black Vice President. Such a choice, and it was that by their own admission, would have been child abuse if it consigned her to a life of second-class status. In area after area where past practices of racism prohibited or limited African American participation, the elimination of those limits was followed by African American excellence: sports, music, media, law, medicine, politics and on and on.

Today, most African Americans are middle class or better. Most do not live in inner cities, but in suburbs and small cities. Most do not have a serious criminal record. They graduate high school at the same rate as the white majority. There are successful black-majority cities (Atlanta) and suburbs (Prince Georges county). There are black role models in every profession. What do these contra-indications mean? While in-depth studies of the black community demonstrate significant progress in the fifty years since 1968 riots, there are also data which point to lasting issues.

African american college graduation rates have lagged. Black unemployment recently improved but remains stubbornly high. One-third of African American males have felony convictions. Black household income, family wealth, and home ownership have only marginally improved (relative to whites) in fifty years. How to reconcile these competing data?

If you believe in critical race theory, you ignore positive developments, blame all negative outcomes on systemic racism, and draw a line in the sand called anti-racism. However, if as the anti-racists posit, America is racist to its core, and the entire system is rigged to protect fragile white egos, we never would have developed the America we have today. This does not mean racism is not a problem: racism is a problem everywhere, all the time. Let me repeat that: racism is a problem everywhere, all the time. But what confronts America is not the all-explaining, systemic racism imagined by anti-racists, but a much more specific challenge: the combination of a small black urban underclass and the soft racist policies that enable and prolong it.

When people imagine the plight of the American black community, what they envision is an urban wasteland with high rates of crime and violence, few jobs, poor housing and services, lousy schools, and no grocery stores. This description is no different from various ethnic minority ghettos of days gone by, and it remains accurate. Why has only this one persisted? There are two main reasons.

First, the racist limits on where blacks can live are devastating to the family, the community, housing prices, wealth accumulation, job and educational opportunities, health and victimization from crime. The solutions to this situation are not easy, but are well understood. The housing discrimination (redlining) which created and limited these communities has been carried on for decades under multiple mayoral and state government administrations. Why? It props up the property values of affluent city neighborhoods, keeps their schools segregated, and limits exposure to crime. This policy preference has persisted despite decades of Democratic Party control of major cities, and even despite the development of black-majority polities and local governments!

Which points to the second reason: a willingness among black and white activists to honor anti-social behaviors within the black community as some kind of legitimate, indigenous culture. The urban hellscape I described earlier was consistent across racial and ethnic groups, but previous inhabitants were forced to choose: abandon the anti-social behavior or be locked up or deported. Only the African-American community has been given a different alternative: stay in the slums and make a virtue out of the vices. Given the lack of opportunities (of all types), it is not surprising a number (remember, still a minority!) choose to remain mired. None of the anti-social behaviors were unique to black culture, nor did they stem from some mythic African past. Yet now they are celebrated.

There are overwhelming social science data on the negative effects of single-parent families, paternal absence, truancy, toleration of petty crime or exposure to drug use. One doesn’t have to criticize those struggling with these issues in recognizing what the data say. Add these factors in to the previous mix of poverty and hopelessness I described earlier and you have a toxic cultural brew. Affirm this toxic mess as a cultural inheritance and you have our current state of affairs.

Remember, it’s not that successful African Americans don’t face racial slights, indignities, and tangible torts: they absolutely do, every day. This remains a challenge we must all continue to face. Successful African Americans have the character to ignore them, the resources to avoid the provocations, or the access to legal or social remedies. But this is not the case for black urban underclass, and the problems there won’t be fixed with the same solutions.

I’ve touched on the solution before: a real effort to eliminate redlining’s legacy and to foster the growth and retention of a black middle class in the cities. Nowadays, the first thing a successful black family does is leave the city. Assisting them in becoming home-owners in the city’s affluent districts, or remaining in gentrifying neighborhoods, is a tangible and feasible policy. So is building affordable housing in those same areas and redeveloping the remaining areas. This in turn improves educational and professional prospects. But this would mean big-city mayors taking on the segregated, affluent power centers of their metropolises. Don’t hold your breath.

Even all this–by itself–won’t succeed. Work must also be done with leaders of the African American community to acknowledge those anti-social behaviors which have previously been tolerated or even celebrated. Past efforts in this vein have faltered as they were painted by activists as “blaming the victim,” which, in the absence of any other program to correct the problems, was true. However, no policy will succeed without addressing the self-harm the black community does. Strengthening the black nuclear family and addressing the problems associated with fatherlessness are key components. Again, where are the courageous leaders who will take this stand?

The over-emphasis on race embodied by the anti-racism movement and Critical Race Theorists defines the problem all wrong. When all you see is race, every issue becomes racism. Focusing on police violence is daft when only three percent of black murder victims are victims of police violence. Citing the greater effect of the coronavirus on African Americans is misguided when what we are seeing is not genetic, but the side effect of poverty and poor health care. Politicians and activists can take credit for meaningless gestures: changing school names while the school itself remains a shambles, or removing statues that are tributes to a history not even taught. And so the game goes on.

If you get the cause and effect wrong, you most certainly have defined the problem wrong.

And two wrongs still won’t make it right.

Mexican Expat Myths #2: You can not criticize the government

This is another oft-repeated saying among expats in Mexico, and yet it sounds odd. It usually comes amidst a heated online discussion, where one party scolds the other, “you can be deported if you criticize the (Mexican) government.” Such a bold statement certainly has an effect in chilling the conversation, but is it true?

You’ll find many expats who remember a case of someone who was deported for criticizing the government or engaging in politics. Or they heard from someone else of a case. But go and Google it for yourself, and it’s hard to find one. The closest I could find was a 2008 case in Merida of a young male expat who claimed he was avoiding a protest rally when Mexican authorities seized him and deported him for engaging in politics. The vast majority of American expats deported (there were only 750 Americans deported in 2020, and those numbers have been steady for decades) were longtime visa overstays (or people in Mexico with no visa at all).

All this goes back to the Mexican constitution. It said (Article IX) that, “Only Citizens of the Republic may take part in the political affairs of the country.” That is pretty plain in black & white. It went further (originally) in Article XXXIII which stated the President “shall have exclusive authority to expel from Mexico, immediately and without trial, any foreigner whose stay is deemed inconvenient.” Wow. That is as blanket a statement of the authority to deport as you’re likely to find!

It is easy to see how that absolute ban on politics and the blanket deportation language led many expats to assume you can’t criticize the government. But there is much more in the Mexican Constitution, and the issue is more nuanced than it would appear. Article I of the document gives all people, not just citizens, “. . . the human rights recognized in this Constitution and in those international treaties to which the Mexican State is a party, as well as the guarantees for their protection, whose exercise cannot be restricted nor suspended except in the cases and under the conditions established by this Constitution.” Article IX says, “The right to associate or unite peacefully for any licit objective cannot be stifled; but only those citizens of the Republic may take part in the country’s political matters.”A 2011 revision changed the President’s blanket authority thusly: “The Executive of the Union, after a hearing, may expel foreigners from the country on the basis of the law…”. Those additions changed the plenary authority of the President to exile an expat to something that must be adjudicated with due process.

Clearly the Mexican government has been liberalizing the rights of foreign residents, but one can see there remains a clear red-line: no political activity. Yet even this is murky. Some expats were appalled by the last American administration’s Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP, commonly called “Stay in Mexico”) which forced non-Mexican asylum seekers to await a hearing while remaining in Mexico. Expats spoke publicly against it. But the MPP was an agreement with the government in Mexico City, so the expat protestors were (wait for it) criticizing the position of the Mexican federal government! Yet they all still seem to be around.

So how to interpret all this? Engaging in political speech or action will likely offend someone and get you in trouble. This would include fund-raising, marching, promoting one or the other party: it doesn’t matter whether you are pro- or anti-administration, you might offend someone from another party who could report you. Discussing issues in general, talking with friends, even around a local, is highly unlikely to land you in trouble. Go online in social media sites and the odds get worse, since now there is a record (to be misconstrued, possibly) and you don’t control who sees it. Make yourself a general nuisance to the host nation by leading marches and starting movements, publishing tracts and proposing policies? More likely still: Adios, muchachos! In the end, there are very few recorded cases of expats being deported for engaging in political activity; more often it’s a case of immigration fraud. So have your paperwork in order, and don’t sweat it.

Final judgment: Expats can not criticize the government; Partially True.

Mexican Expat Myths #1: You can not have a gun in Mexico

You’ll hear this common wisdom all the time among expats, sometimes with the added sarcasm of “this isn’t the United States” or “please don’t come here, you gun nut.” Those are the cleaned up versions. Questions about guns seem to bring out the worst in judgmentalism among some expats, but what’s the law say?

Mexico’s constitution (Article X), like its northern and southern neighbors, specifically protects the right to keep a firearm in one’s residence for the purpose of self-protection. This right extends to citizens and legal permanent residents (such as expats). There are many further restrictions, on the size of the weapon, the types of ammunition, permits to carry or hunt with it, buy or sell one. This web of restrictions is what leads expats to believe you can’t have a gun in Mexico, but it’s not quite true.

Part of the confusion about guns is that Mexico’s firearm laws are federal ones, applying across the entire country, while America has some federal rules and a patchwork of state and local regulations that vary between practically denying the constitutional right to promoting mandatory gun ownership (see Kennesaw, Georgia). In Mexico, there is only one set of rules and little tolerance, unless you’re a cartel.

There is only one legal weapon shop in Mexico, near Mexico City, and it is run by SEDENA, the Mexican Department of Defense. You can pre-apply for a permit to bring a weapon into Mexico, but the weapon must meet all the requirements mentioned above and then be carefully brought across the border with much paperwork. As always when laws, paperwork, and border guards are involved, there is a lot of room for miscommunication, corruption, and trouble. Americans who accidentally show up at the border with weapons or ammunition (like they do everyday at US airports) find themselves immediately incarcerated and the subject of diplomatic negotiations.

Why is Mexico so tough on weapons? For one thing, there is that long history of revolutions in which firearms play a significant role. Lately there is the raft of narcotics-related cartel violence. While many weapons confiscated can be traced back to the United States, many thousands more come from the vast quantities of AK-47s (the weapon of choice) that remain available throughout Central America, left over from the various Soviet-sponsored revolutionary movements there. Suffice it to say that the Mexican government feels about weapons trafficked from the United States the same way the US feels about drugs coming from Mexico.

Cue Glenn Frey: “the politics of contraband, the smuggler’s blues.”

So, yes, you can have a gun as a legal permanent resident, but many types of guns are prohibited, there are further limits on numbers, you have to pre-apply to bring one, you have to go through a paperwork hassle to buy one, there are permits for transporting (with significant costs), and your chance of being approved for carrying the weapon (outside your home) are negligble. One can see how some expats, comparing gun ownership here to the States or in Canada, opine “you can’t have one.”

Finally, that right to defense of one’s self at home in Mexico got strengthened in 2018. The changes made it permissible to hit, injure, or even kill any intruder (armed or not) in one’s home, and forbid criminal prosecution of the home defender in such cases. But note this new law, like “castle doctrine” laws elsewhere, has to be interpreted, so don’t accept it as carte blanche.

The larger question is “why would you need a gun?” In the States, this is an incendiary question, because one doesn’t require a reason to exert a constitutional right: “just cause I want to” is perfectly fine. This is clearly not the case in Mexico, where the constitutional right is hemmed in in ways that resemble “why?” For lakeside residents, it’s easy to explain why not. I didn’t own weapons in the States, but I did support the 2nd Amendment. I know expats here who did own weapons in the States, but don’t here (neither do I). Why not? No threat to justify it. Violent crime here locally is minimal, and even less so for expats (another myth I’ll address later).

Final disclaimer: I’m not a lawyer, and I didn’t stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night. If you are thinking of bringing a weapon to Mexico, or buying one here for self-defense, contact a lawyer who can walk you through all the angles. If there is one thing I have learned in Mexico, it is this: there is the law, and there is what happens; the two don’t necessarily coincide.

Final judgment: Expats can not have a gun; mostly false.

Pay Back time

No, no, not the “payback is a . . .” type. The good kind!

We’ve benefited from numerous suggestions about things to watch while on lock-down . . . again. I thought I would pass along what we watched, what we liked and disliked, in case anybody else is in a similar need.

Judy & I basically stopped watching network TV in the late 90’s. Seinfeld lurched to an exhausted, silly ending (in my opinion), which was an apt metaphor for most major network fare. Friends kept suggesting “edgy” shows on cable, but they seemed mostly gimmicks. Sex scenes replaced good writing, token characters (“look, the first x on network TV”) replaced depth. I knew there had to be good television out there, but I was unwilling to wade through the dreck to find it.

Hunkered down today with satellite TV and decent Internet speeds, we had literally decades of material available, and more important, the longer vista of critical reviews (and friends) to guide us.

We enjoyed The Sopranos, which held to high production standards across six seasons. The characters were interesting, if not always likable. You could make a very entertaining drinking game by taking a shot every time an episode shows a completely unnecessary scene set in the strip bar. One could almost here the producer saying,”hey, this is cable, dammit, get the naked dancers in here.” And no, I didn’t really like the en . . . . .

Likewise, The Wire was excellent for five seasons. We really enjoyed seeing actors we liked in later series, here in their first breakthrough roles. This series got so many plaudits for its gritty realism, and they were well-deserved. What kept bothering me was: how could so many people watch a show like this and NOT begin to understand the problems of urban crime and race? It’s all there literally in black and white.

Breaking Bad was a guilty pleasure: such well-crafted plot-lines and characters. Sadly, it completed a transition I noticed at the time, from cheering for good (if flawed) characters to asking us to cheer for despicable ones. Judy & I began debating whether there were ANY identifiably “good” characters in the series, and as the five seasons unfolded, we both concluded “none.” The sequel movie El Camino and prequel series Better Call Saul are just as good, and “bad.”

On a lighter note, the recently concluded Schitt’s Creek was a joy to watch. The Canadian production (eighty episodes, but only twenty-plus minutes per) proved the sitcom is not dead, it just requires writers. Now, this is not earth-shattering television: the story line is basically Green Acres with a side story of a gay couple. But it marked the return of very flawed characters who (mostly) evolve in positive ways. And it’s funny, even if just for the facial expressions of Eugene & Dan Levy (Father & son). Bonuses: No laugh track, no gratuitous sex.

Another favorite was the Starz/BBC dramatic miniseries The Spanish Princess about Catherine of Aragon. We stumbled onto this one before realizing it was third in a series, so we need to double back to the The White Queen and The White Princess. Together they tell the tale of the various powerful women involved with the English War of the Roses and subsequent reign of Henry VIII. There are some historical liberties taken: no, Catherine did not ride into battle in maternity armor (she elsewhere and at a different time gave a rallying speech to the troops wearing such armor), but the discrepancies are only minor and the stories remain solid.

The only thing we gave up on so far was Ozark, which seemed to take the same general theme as Breaking Bad and the production quality of The Sopranos. Every character was despicable from the get-go, and the plot contrives early on to get into the strip club business, because, “hey, get the naked dancers in here!” Sorry, derivatives need not apply.

Turning to movies, here are a few lesser known treats:

Find the full length director’s cut of Apocalypse Now and watch it. But first, do me a small favor. Find a copy (or free PDF) of Joseph Conrad’s novella Heart of Darkness, the book upon which the Coppola movie is based. It’s short, and you probably were forced to read it in high school or college and quickly forgot it. But the movie is not about Vietnam, it’s about the issues raised in Conrad’s book: myths about civilized and uncivilized peoples, the confusion of technology and progress, misguided loyalties and the depths a person can sink to when they become unmoored. The movie has about a hundred unforgettable quotes, and of course, this scene:

“Someday this war is gonna end . . . “

Since you have time, how about watching some trilogies as collective stories?

I suggest you begin with the Dollars Trilogy, the three Spaghetti Westerns directed by Sergio Leone and starring Clint Eastwood. Leone didn’t intend that A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly be a trilogy. But Eastwood’s iconic “Man with No Name” is unchanged throughout, bringing the movies together.

Next, an actual trilogy done by Sergio Leone, the “Once Upon a Time” series. These stories capture the essence of different periods and places. Caution: make sure you get the full original versions of these movies. They were initially released in the States with severe editing that made them practically unwatchable! Once Upon a Time in the West covers the mythology of the American Western Frontier, Duck! You Sucker (the real title) covers the Mexican Revolution, and Once Upon a Time in America is the story of Jewish Gangsters in New York City. All very different, and very compelling.

Finally, a really off-the-wall trilogy: the El Mariachi series (by Robert Rodriguez), also called the Desperado series or simply the Mexico series. It comprises El Mariachi, Desperado, and Once Upon a Time in Mexico (an homage to Leone’s work). These are modern Westerns, love stories full of tragic mistakes, revenge, and surreal violence. The first was practically a home movie, but proved so interesting it sparked a sequel that brought Antonio Banderas in for the lead with Salma Hayek as his love interest. Steve Buscemi, Cheech Marin, and Quentin Tarantino have bit parts (Google “Tarantino’s joke scene in Desperado”. This is a family-friendly blog or I would link to it!). The finale adds in Johnny Depp (as a CIA ‘agent’), Eva Mendes, and Danny Trejo. While it has a meandering plot, it is still good fun and you’ll never look at puerco pibil the same way again!

If you have a favorite series or movie that might deserve another look, or might have been overlooked, please mention it in the comments!

Waste not, want not

You may have heard that the US Congress passed (and the President signed into law) a series of massive spending bills, which included government funding for the rest of the fiscal year and additional Covid-related relief. As is usually the case in DC, the bills also included funding for a variety of special interests and pet projects. But the one which garnered the most outrage was a provision for a $10 million dollar study of gender in Pakistan, at a time many American students are not in school, their parents are not employed, and the families are looking at a measly $600 (each) bump.

“Why?” so many asked, with much anger and justification. And they deserve an answer. Foreign aid is always a touchy subject in the US, as we have so many things on which we need to spend domestically. Polls show Americans think the federal government spends about 25% of its revenue on foreign aid; the actual figure is 1%. We spend about .2% of Gross National Product, putting us behind almost all other rich nations in such giving, yet we’re still the largest donor in terms of total amount.

“Ok, ok, it’s still a lot of money, and why now, when Americans are hurting? And why to a country like Pakistan that is arguably not even much of an ally?” Well, that takes a history lesson, and one which is rich in irony with respect to foreign aid.

Way back in the 1970s, the US and Pakistan were close allies, as the US sided with the Pakistanis against their bigger, bitter rival India. When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan, the relationship deepened, as we funneled aid through Pakistan to the mujaheddin making life impossible for the Russians in the Hindu Kush. We also tried to aid the development of a more democratic, liberal Pakistan by funding schools and clinics and the like. This wasn’t much money: it doesn’t cost much to put up a concrete building, buy some tables and books, and pay a teacher there. But who wants to vote money for their schools over say, the ones in West Virginia? So we found an alternative: another Muslim country with close ties to Pakistan that had unlimited funding: Saudi Arabia.

The House of Saud was more than willing to fund education in Pakistan. These madrassas (religious schools) excluded girls and taught the fundamentalist Wahhabi version of Islam popular in Saudi Arabia. Pakistan and Afghanistan were once considered among the most liberal Muslim states, but all that changed. Graduates of the madrassas spread throughout the region, which in turn led Pakistan and Afghanistan to become the fertile home of Al Qaeda (the base), the secure enclave from which they planned, and to which they retreated after, the 9-11 attacks.

Now those nations are rife with anti-American, fundamentalist Islamist thought. Pakistan has determined that its Saudi-funded madrassas are a problem, and wants to fix it. America is cautiously engaging with the notion of how to recover a lost generation of Pakistanis, to change their way of thinking and remove the possibility of those countries ever being a base for terrorism again. Rather than throw money at the problem, the US government is studying what to do, so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past.

That’s the $10 million dollar study you heard about. It amounts to what the US government spends every minute. It pales in comparison to the costs of 9-11. Maybe it’s still a waste of money. Maybe someone in charge will make the study focus on gender neutral pronouns in Urdu. Maybe it won’t uncover anything useful. Educated people can disagree about this. But see how one can take any budget item out of context and make it look ridiculous? And there are many real cases of fraud,waste and abuse: ever see a bridge to nowhere built because Congressman Snodgrass wanted it? So people are right to question any budget item, but don’t fall for the easy targets and remember there is always someone out there trying to outrage you.

I’ll end with another cautionary foreign aid story. Once upon a time, the US sent doctors to developing nations to train local medical professionals in how to treat infectious diseases. We bore the costs of such programs, making the training and advice free to the other nations. We did so out of charity and out of self-interest: diseases arrested there don’t spread here. One such nation was China. China became a more developed nation, but what we began in charity we continued in self-interest.

Except Chinese-American relations hit the skids, and we decided to end the program. We pulled out our liaison from the Chinese CDC. In early 2019, we took our doctors out of the training site at the regional medical center in some city named Wuhan. We didn’t end the program because it was too expensive or China wouldn’t pay for it; we just decided cancelling it was a low-cost way to show we were angry. You know how that story ends.

First World Problems

In case you’re unfamiliar with the phrase, it captures the challenges which seem very troublesome to you as a member of a WEIRD (Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, Democratic) country, but those that at the same time pale in comparison to the rest of the world trying to find enough to eat, not get arrested by the corrupt police, or being extorted by some criminal gang. A quintessential First World Problem is when your high speed internet connection sputters. The indignity! How will you survive?

We had such a problem revolving around out stove. Seems we had a builder’s grade stove that was nearing nine years old and starting to show its wear and tear. Buttons were broken, stains resisted cleaning, and it never worked that well anyway. Estufas (stoves) are not as big a deal in Mexico, so what we had was serviceable, but just. Some models require a match to ignite; others don’t have much insulation. We have friends whose stove heats their counter-top and cabinets to scalding, but doesn’t keep a consistent temperature in the oven! In Mexico, you basically have a choice between GE/Whirlpool, Koblenz, and Mabe. All three producce models across the price spectrum, but Whirlpool skews highest, then Koblenz, then Mabe which has the cheapest models. The knock on Mabe (“Mah-bay”) is ‘mahbay they work, mahbay they don’t.’

So we decided to replace our old stove. It was set up on a small concrete pedestal (very common here), and we wanted a regular model which could slide in (and give us a warmer/storage drawer underneath). Judy, being the online maven she is, cleverly waited until the Buen Fin (Mexico’s answer to Black Friday) sales began and ordered a stove with a microwave/vent above it from Costco.

That’s when the fun began. First, FedEx–who delivers to us almost weekly–dropped us a text saying they couldn’t find our house to deliver the microwave so they sent it back to the Costco warehouse in Mexico City. Arghhhh. Judy contacted Costco, and they were polite and quick in refunding that part of the purchase, but they declined to let us re-purchase the microwave at the special discount price as that sale period was over. “No problema,” we thought, we’ll just find another microwave/vent combination locally.

Shortly thereafter FedEx resumed knowing our location and delivered the stove. We opened the box and saw various loose pieces like knobs (which are detachable) and the burners and grill, but things seemed to be in order. We contacted our contractor, who was doing a series of small projects at our place, to remove our old stove and arrange installation.

Because of the change in style, the workers had to hammer out the the existing concrete base, level it, then place matching tile. They did a quick and great job, and we looked to be close to completion, when the worker told me “hay un probelma” which is Spanish for “Houston, we have a problem.” Seems that one of the detachable knobs on the stove was not just detached, but was broken off the valve stem (not easily fixed). *Sigh* We stopped work on the installation while Judy worked her way through Costco customer service (no, there is no “por inlges, toca numero dos” option). She eventually found a Costco rep and worked out the details, sending them pictures of the broken knob. He said he would arrange for a FedEx pickup, but that it might be a while since this was the holiday season.

Now we’re in a pickle. Our old stove is gone, our new stove is sitting in the hallway, unusable. Which meant it was something new and not in the right place. Which meant that my fifteen year-old dog, who likes to get up in the middle of the night and get a drink, lost it when he saw this huge, threatening shape in front of him in the dark. At least he got used to it, and my heart rate eventually returned to normal.

Looks very scary at night, if you’re a dog, and you’re old . . . apparently!

Did I mention there is a worldwide appliance shortage. Wait, what? You didn’t know; neither did we! Seems all the disruptions in parts and work schedules has caused a shortage in appliance manufacturing. We decided to go the local appliance store (Tio Sam’s . . . yes, Uncle Sam’s, or as my Mexican gate guard calls it, Uncle Tom’s, which made me do a double-take) and start over. We had already gone there once to get the new microwave, so when we returned to buy a stove we were thrilled when then told us they had a model we liked available and could have it shipped immediately, arriving with the previously scheduled microwave. Hallelujah! Only a week or so without a stove.

But wait, there’s more. Delivery day arrived, and so did our microwave/vent. But no stove. Tio Sam’s called to apologize for the mix-up. There was no immediately available model, but they would have one available (wait for it) the third week of January. More like a month+ without a stove. We told them we would come in to the store in the morning and work something out.

We went in committed to buying a different model (whatever was available) or getting a refund and starting over again. They still had nothing available, so we went for the latter (refund) option. Suddenly, they found our model again, and said it would arrive tomorrow. Willing to fall for the mañana joke one more time, we went home and waited.

Tio Sam’s called to confirm a delivery time the next day (yesterday). The correct model showed up, intact, and our workmen rushed over to install it. So our stove drought ended after ten days, although we still need to get the microwave/vent installed. Mañana.

Looks good! Guess which sticker was hardest to remove?

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Feliz Navidad!

Happy New Year!

Sorry for the belated greetings!

“Belated?!?” you ask, “aren’t you a little early?” No, not at all. See, the liturgical year began with start of Advent on November 29th, hence my apology.

“But I’m not Catholic” you might object. Never-mind! God keeps time in His Own Way, and if I had wished you blessings for Diwali or Hanukkah, would you have objected? Of course not!

And who doesn’t want to see 2020 go, even if it means adopting a Catholic calendar for a few weeks? Our Annus Horribilis is one for the record books, and in all the wrong ways. But I don’t want you to focus on that. I want you to focus on something positive: what’s ahead.

Which is Death. Wait, wait, hang on here, I’m absolutely positive we’re all heading toward death. So much so, I’d wager on it, but you (or I) would not be around to pay (or collect) if either of us won (or lost). Not death from the Coronavirus, thanks to Big Pharma, but death nonetheless.

Why be so morbid, during this festive Christmas season, with a vaccine being distributed and the quarantines and masks and restrictions all within sight of the finish line? Well, I ask you, what was the point of 2020? If you believe in God, you’ve got ‘some splainin” to do’ (cue Ricky to Lucy). Divine Punishment? Only He knows. An Act of Man gone awry? Possibly. Poor choices by many? Absolutely. I don’t know what God’s plan in all of this was, but I do know that however it started and spread, He will use it to His Own Ends.

But let’s keep it personal, shall we? Do you know anybody who was unaffected by the pandemic? Me neither. Some harshly, some (like me and my family) only a little, but everybody felt the effects. What was the lesson we were supposed to learn? If this was a once-in-a-lifetime critical event, how should we process it, and what does it mean for how we live?

Many thinkers are producing analyses of how our pandemic experiences will change the world. They often focus on the notion that it will primarily accelerate trends already underway; that is a strong bet, and one I plan to write more about next year. But if the effects of this virus are limited to more screen time, online shopping, work-from-home and telemedicine, or less commuting, fewer handshakes, and no cruise ships, we will lose an opportunity.

We all faced the possibility of serious illness or death for ourselves, those we love, our friends and even casual acquaintances. We lost simple pleasures like eating out or going to events. We were prohibited from traveling, limited to when and where we could shop or gather to pray, forced to mask and rinse and provide our body temperature on demand. What did you learn? What did you miss, and why? How will you live in the future? What will you commit to do differently as a result? We are quick to point out the failings of governments and leaders, and such criticism may be warranted, but will we turn that critical eye on ourselves?

2020 was the year we want to forget, but the year’s lessons must not be lost as well. So take a few moments as we prepare for a New Year, take stock, and ponder how you will be different after the pandemic. Faced with loss of freedom or even loss of life, what did you learn? There’s a resolution worth keeping!

How little we know

Another in my (endless) series about the coronavirus.

I still see articles and social media stories about ‘how bad the US is doing with Covid’, complete with graphs designed to set your hair on fire.

Game on! Here’s one such chart:

Big countries all, right? You probably already guessed what’s wrong with this one: it compares a country trying to (and mostly getting) good data–the US–with several similar countries where no one believes their data.

Let’s try that again with “good data” countries:

OMG! We are the worst. I call this stunt “fun with data.” Here’s another version, using data that is displayed on a logarithmic scale, adjusted for population size, comparing the US and EU and ignoring a small island nation no one visits (I’m looking at you, New Zealand. More people cross the US border in two days than visit the Kiwis in a year!):

What you are witnessing is data convergence, which is the phenomenon that occurs when a natural event plays out over time. In plain English, some (even very large) initial differences gradually disappear over time.

Heard of the unique experiment in Sweden over their policies? Here’s the latest data:

Wait, you’ll say, but don’t government policies matter? Yes, but mostly in degree and for a time. Note the similarity between the data tends for deaths in these disparate countries/Unions, despite very different policies/situations:

If you want to see something really interesting, look at the data for Japan. They have a large population and were a hub of international travel. They also were one of the first to confront the pandemic based on the cruise ship Diamond Princess which pulled into Yokohama harbor full of coronavirus.

The Japanese government had a big disadvantage: the world’s most elderly and therefore (according to the WHO and CDC) vulnerable population. They also had one huge advantage: a compliant population accustomed to wearing masks. They intensely studied the Diamond Princess affair and concluded airborne transmission was probable even if it was not the main source of spread. They further decided that the main variables in spread were close contact, closed spaces, and crowded places. They initiated an educational campaign called the Three C’s so everyone understood what the problem was, why it was important, and what they (the public) were supposed to do.

They never quarantined their entire society. They did not mandate mask wearing. They do not (still) do mass testing (less than 10% of the testing done in America). Theaters remain open but socially distant. The mass transit system runs full with open windows. Schools reopened in June with staggered schedules. Sports are played with spectators (no cheering, social distancing in the stands). There are no legal limits beyond the governmental and cultural exhortation to avoid the three C’s. How has that worked out?

Despite greater vulnerability, amazing results

Are their lessons universal? No. Are they applicable? Yes. When we blindly close schools, or restaurants, or churches without regard to activity or size, we are not following the data (ie., the science). Likewise, when we ignore social-distancing or mask wearing, we are ignoring obvious answers to the problem. Both are critical. The first because no society can long endure excessive quarantining, loss of income, or loss of human contact. People went out during the great plagues of Medieval Europe, for God’s sake! The second because these are small-but-helpful measures that buy time and mutually protect us, whether they are foolproof or not.

I’m not nearly as tired of the lockdown as I am of the politicized use of data and specious counter-arguments. Yes, you need to wear a mask and stand apart. No, it doesn’t solve everything; only a vaccine does, and yes, the vaccine is safe and effective and you need to take it. No, we could not save hundreds of thousands of people who were vulnerable due to obesity and illness and some genetic combination which Covid uniquely targeted: we could play for time, but given the vaccine took almost a year (under a miraculous scenario which we engineered), we were going to lose them. No, it it is not useful to compare a globally connected, large, heterodox nation like the United States to small islands or geographically-isolated, homogeneous countries. Do I have to explain why?

Here’s a way to reconsider the pandemic by comparing it to another natural phenomenon to put it into perspective: earthquakes. They happen. Actually, they happen almost everywhere. People die. Sometimes they happen somewhere regularly, and people become used to them, and their governments prepare for them. Sometimes the preparations are so good that most quakes don’t kill people or destroy things. But even then, sometimes major earthquakes still happen, things fall down, and people still die. Sometimes earthquakes don’t happen for a long time, then suddenly reappear, and they are catastrophic. Know when/where the largest earthquake was recorded in the continental United States (i.e., lower 48)? New Madrid, Missouri, in 1812. So large it moved the Mississippi river hundreds of meters. That one goes off again? Bad things will happen. Some will blame the government for not being prepared, and maybe more should be done. But really?

Every country has made serious mistakes facing this crisis. No medical entity or public health body has covered itself in glory. Some mistakes were worse than others (personally, not quickly quarantining eldercare facilities was among the worst, and it happened in such diverse places as Germany, Sweden, and New York State) and some were avoidable (the early US debate over wearing masks, for example). Some results were not reproducible: not every nation is a remote island, nor does everybody have Africa’s remarkably young demographics. I’m willing to bet the historical record of Covid-19 will not focus on the spread or mortality (neither of which were impressive by historical standards), nor on government actions (which were all over the place) but rather on the speed of the vaccine development, which broke all records while maintaining necessary safeguards. That was truly remarkable.

*As a footnote, if you EVER want to look at Covid data, you MUST go to the Financial Times website here, which allows you to do the kind of comparisons I made above. It is the best website and most tailor-able data display available.

Look a lot like Christmas!

Another quilt, with our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree as a centerpiece

A daughter’s school art project keepsake

Our tin tree and the gang from Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Real Christmas trees at our Church.

An Expat Stress Test

We recently passed the milestone of four years retired (I’ll stop counting when the number exceeds my thirty-eight work years). Around this time each year, I review our decision to retire early and choose the expat life in Mexico. Yet the coronavirus and on-and-off again quarantine has me pondering the bigger questions (“what’s it all about, Alfie?” “Is it technically a weekend if it’s not a work-week?” “just how near is a near occasion of sin?”). Oh, that and the liturgical year just ended, with daily readings about the end of all things leading to Advent, a season popularly misunderstood as a festive build-up to Christmas, but in reality a chance to take stock whether we’re prepared for the inevitable end of our existence. Phew, that’s an existential load!

Took this during our visit to Playa del Carmen. It has nothing to do with today’s post. Sometimes, a photo is just too good to ignore.

Retired life in general, and retired expat life in particular, give one the time and perspective to consider such things. But how many times can I say “we enjoy being retired” or “the weather is amazing” or “life is good” without becoming repetitive or annoying? 2020 threw us all a curve ball and — unlike Michael Jordan– I want to make contact on it.

If there ever was a time or condition which would cause one to reconsider choosing to live the retired expat life, the 2020 Covid experience was it. One reason for being expats in Mexico was to enable us to travel the world. Not so much now. Few countries would welcome us, and few things are open to see or do if they did. Another reason to be here in Mexico specifically was for the climate: perfect weather enabling daily outdoor activity, including alfresco dining year-round. Ehhh, sometimes. Restaurants have been hard hit, some closed and others forced into carry-out only. And wearing a mask even to exercise outdoors is a drag.

On top of all that, one of the biggest challenges to expat life is ensuring quality medical care. We have that, but no medical system in the world has done well during the pandemic: they have all flailed and failed in one way or another. That is not a criticism: this is simply what happens when a novel, contagious, and sometimes deadly disease appears. It just so happens this was the first really contagious one in a century, and many people had started to “believe in science” (what an oxymoron!) to the point they were surprised by the inevitable.

Mexico doesn’t engage in widespread Covid testing, so no one knows how bad it is here. Mexico’s health minister mused out loud ‘why test if you have no treatment?’ which was medically accurate if terribly tone-deaf. The hospital admissions here mirror the rates in the States, so the incidence and case load are likely about the same.

So here we are, quarantined in a developing country during a pandemic. And loving it nonetheless. Why?

Let’s start with the medical situation. Mexico has a higher death rate then the States, but that is mostly due to the high incidence of co-morbidities and poor public healthcare services. There is no magic treatment in either place, and the best outcome is prevention in all cases. The prevention outlook is the same: state-by-state, with some closures and restrictions on movement, mask-wearing requirements, sanitizing at the entrance of public facilities (restaurants, bars, shopping centers). In the end, it’s a wash for us as to where to get sick, and our best protection is our own ability to abide by the necessary health policies.

One major difference is the attitude: nobody seems particularly upset or angry about all this here in Mexico. Nobody expects the government to get it all right, and most understand that some things–like novel pandemics–are beyond the current understanding of even modern medicine, so we learn by experiencing. People die. But to Mexicans, death is a tragic reality of daily life, and coronavirus only provides the how and when, but does not change the if. Every person’s death is mourned, but there is a realism (not fatalism) here that affects how Mexicans deal with a pandemic. And that’s a very positive thing, in my opinion.

Travel? Why yes, please. Small secret #1:despite all the headlines, at no time during this pandemic did the United States prevent American citizens from returning home. All the announced restrictions were only for foreign nationals. We’ve traveled back to the States twice during the restrictions without trouble or even questioning. The US Department of Homeland Security did recently announce that ‘US persons returning to the States could be denied entry if they were sick.’ Small secret #2: That has always been the case. ANY airline, and ANY country, can and will deny you boarding/entry if you show symptoms of illness. You can be (and some returnees have been) put into quarantine. Thus it has always been.

One overlooked aspect of travel is that while the cruise industry is stuck in port and the land border open only to “essential business” (a term with significant discretion: Canadians have learned it may not allow them to drive from Mexico to Canada), Mexico and the USA have kept their airline connections open. While individual states may have stringent provisions once landed, there have been few restrictions on flying back-and-forth across the border, a fact unique to the Mexican-American relationship. Importantly for us, it has permitted two trips back to visit family, all with limits and distancing, of course.

As time goes by and we learn more about Covid, things change. We’re not wiping down every product which enters our casa. Most restaurants have adapted to socially-distanced dining, and since the weather is great, that option remains. Places like our Church have reopened for regular Mass with distancing rules. Even when the case rates rose, the government didn’t overreact and re-enact the original restrictions, but changed them to fit what we’ve learned.

We’ve noticed many of our Canadian snowbird friends returning to Mexico of late. Whether they would, given their health insurance and government warnings, was an open question among us year-round expats. Mostly they have, sensing that enduring the pandemic in sun and warm weather is the better option. That and the less tangible sense that the pandemic is something which demands serious–but not overwrought–attention, which is more the case here than elsewhere.

All things considered, Mexico in general, and lakeside in particular, remains the place for us to be in this Annus Horribilis of 2020.