America just went through its annual rite of passage, jumping forward to daylight saving time. It is always accompanied by another round of complaints, confusion, and protest. Americans have so little to argue about, it’s a good thing they still have this (sarcastic font). In the end, it’s all a battle about sunlight, when you get it, and what you call it.
Let’s start with the basics. The amount of daylight one receives daily depends primarily on one’s latitude (a north-south measure). At the equator, it’s twelve hours daily, always. As you move north or south, days become increasingly longer (in summer) or shorter (in winter). The seasonal daylight change is actually due to the Earth’s inclination (tilt), but let’s not introduce astronomy, ok? So there’s little reason to fool with the clocks for lands near the equator, as the amount of sunlight at say 7:00 am is roughly the same, January through December. But as you move toward the poles and light becomes dearer in the dreary winter, your children will be waiting for the school bus in the dark, or you will be driving home from work at night. Likewise, plentiful Summer daylight could be wasted in bed, so the idea was born to simply change what we call the time to adjust that variable to when the sunlight is available.
Next subject is geography. Most countries lie in a single time zone. It is an odd coincidence that most countries are either roughly square or taller (north-south) than wider. While they may switch from standard to daylight saving times (and back) during the year, the whole country is affected uniformly. If your nation fits snugly into a time zone, the fact it gets dark at 5:00 pm in one city and 5:15 in another and 5:30 in a third is hardly worth arguing about.
The major exceptions to this rule are the United States, Canada, Russia, China, and Australia, which span multiple times zones. Russia spans the most (nine), followed by Canada (five and a half!), China (should be four, but is one), the continental USA (four) and Australia (three). Which of these things is not like the other? Only in the US is the population spread out both across and within the time zones. Russia and Australia have the bulk of their people in a single time zone and vast relatively unpopulated other time zones. China is likewise, but simply mandates everyone be on “Beijing time.” Screw you, Xinjiang if dawn is at 11:00 am! Canada has population spread, but is still relatively sparse. In three of the four continental US time zones, there are several large cities on different (east-west) sides of a single time zone. Which means there are many people who will be advantaged or disadvantaged by being in the same time zone. When you try to make the bus stop happen in daylight in Boston, the commute home in Detroit is pitch dark, or vice versa). That is the simple reason it’s always been a contentious issue in the US, especially more so than in other countries.
Let’s take Mexico for example. The federal government did away with daylight saving (note there is no extra “s”) time last year. Mexico has four time zones, with the bulk of the population being in the Mexico City time zone. Quintana Roo (home of CancĆŗn and the other resorts) mirrors US Eastern time, as that is where the bulk of its tourist business lives. Likewise, the Mexican border states mirror their northern cousins, switching or not to simplify travel and trade across the border. Mexico is in the tropics, so the real daylight change is between one and two hours at most, so no one is terribly disadvantaged and time doesn’t become a contentious issue.
Why do we even change times? It started as a wartime experiment when the US adopted it in 1918 during WWI. The idea was to economize on power and fuel by adjusting times so war industry workers had access to the most daylight in Summer. No one has ever definitively proved any real advantage to it, however. The initial opposition was attributed to farmers who complained about messing with Mother Nature, but this is probably apocryphal, since farmers work on natural schedules, and don’t care whether city folk call dawn 5:00 am or 6:00 am; it’s just when the animals need feeding.
Another silly argument to dispense with is based on the recurrent studies which show negative health effects from time changes. These are what is known as correlation–not causation–effects, meaning two things vary together but one does not cause another. If you ever heard the phrase “what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” the meaning of that obscure saying is that you can find many variables that increase or decrease together, but no one should then assume one causes the other to change. How do we know there is no direct causation? If there was a causation between time changes and major negative health outcomes, the millions of business people and tourists who fly across the Atlantic and Pacific every day would be dying in droves. It doesn’t happen, so there is no causation, just correlation. What does happen is jet lag, which is lousy but not fatal.
What is very real is an increase in things like accidents when driving or walking at night, so forcing commuters or children to do so costs lives. But remember, making it work in New York means it doesn’t work in Indianapolis! There are workarounds. People in Xinjiang keep Beijing time officially, but do all their scheduling on “local time.” The central time zone in Australia is on a half hour offset, as is Newfoundland & Labrador in Canada. But that involves relatively small groups of people and places without that much travel between them.
So if daylight saving time is so great, why not keep it permanently? It’s only great in Summer, when it maximizes your time outdoors in the sunshine. The US tried this in 1974, when Congress repealed the “fall back” time change during the Summer of that year , and President Nixon signed the bill into law. Seventy-five percent of American supported the measure. When Winter came, the new Summer-focused time failed miserably (darkness for school busses, for example), leading to a massive change in public opinion and the repeal of the repeal by then-President Ford in October, 1974.
Time doesn’t have to change. Time changes probably don’t save power, or fuel, but they also don’t make you sick. What they do, do, is maximize your access to plentiful sunlight in both Summer and Winter. If that’s important to you, embrace DST. Or move to Singapore. But please stop complaining!
We are currently three weeks into the holy season of Cuaresma, or Lent. Growing up in a predominantly Catholic community centered on the local parochial school, Lent (and Advent, leading up to Christmas) was a period of significant, noticeable change. The colors of the priest’s vestments and the altar cloth changed to penitential purple from everyday green. Fasts hit on Ash Wednesday, when Catholics (and Episcopalians among others) carried a visible reminder in ashes in the form of a cross on the forehead, and Good Friday, which was also the only day all-year that no masses were celebrated. The absence of meat on Friday was a year-long thing back then, so there was nothing new about it during Lent.
Time marches on, or to paraphrase the Beatles In My Life, some things “have changed, some forever not for better.” The Roman Catholic Church decided to modernize some of its practices after the Second Vatican Council, in a bow to the modern world. Unfortunately, the world didn’t respond in kind. There was no great increase in devotion, no increase in charitable activity, no increase in vocations to the priestly or religious life. Rather, most took the changes as signs that such things didn’t really matter: if the Catholic Church doesn’t even require such things, obviously they won’t matter to the faithful.
Some Catholics struggled with abstaining from meat on Fridays, which remained a requirement only during Lent. Children didn’t like fish, and some were allergic to it. Business people had dinner engagements where avoiding meat was a hardship. The Church compromised by indicating Catholics should substitute some personal form of denial in place of abstaining from meat. What the faithful heard was “we only have to give up meat on Fridays during Lent.” Ask a Catholic friend (or yourself) what you give up weekly during the year in lieu of abstaining from meat, and you’ll get an excuse (“Oh, that’s only during Lent) or a puzzled stare. Not what was intended, but what was effected.
It’s not like it was a great hardship. I’ve caught myself eating fine Salmonhierbas on Fridays in Lent and thought, “well, I’m technically in compliance, but is this really penitential?” Where I grew up in northern Indiana (last millennium), fish was fresh as perch from Lake Michigan (where fish could be used as thermometers due to their high mercury content), or frozen and expensive, or frozen and cheap in the form of “fish sticks,” which mainly consisted of batter around unidentifiable fish-meal that served as a means to carry enormous slabs of “tartar sauce” into one’s mouth, since eating “tartar sauce” by itself would be uncivilized. Heck, even McDonald’s catered to Catholic tastes, inventing the filet-o-fish when burger sales plummeted on Fridays.
Nothing reminds me of life as it was back then like being in an overwhelmingly Catholic country here in Mexico. Restaurants and shops advertise their comida de Cuaresma, special menus or meals that comply with the liturgical restrictions. When I still worked, the guards at my office building routinely stopped me to say “Sir, you have something on your forehead” every Ash Wednesday; I responded, “why, yes, yes I do.” That would never happen here. Holy Week, Easter Week, and the days between Christmas and Three Kings Day are vacation days, either in fact or in practice. The Mexican federal government and the Catholic Church have been at odds (or even at war) over the centuries, but the practices and habits remain unchanged.
I saw a phony FaceBook meme quoting Pope Francis as saying ‘to be kind to strangers, to help the homeless, rather than giving up things’ this Lent. I knew without researching it that it was false, as it makes a fundamental theological error. That is, it equates an everyday necessity (give to the poor, clothe the naked, etc.) with a penitential practice. The former all Christians are called to do ALL the time as in Luke 17:10, “we are unworthy servants, we have done only what we are required to do.” The latter is something we do special. But why?
Penitential acts are not for self-improvement. Long before Dry January became a thing, I started giving up all alcohol during Lent. No red wine with my pasta. No afternoons with a margarita on my terraza. No beer (green or otherwise) on St. Patrick’s Day (On this, I am still lobbying the Church in Mexico to offer a dispensation, as my Bishop back in Indiana did; no luck so far). While my Irish liver enjoys the respite, that is a secondary benefit. I give up something I enjoy as a penance: in a small way, I mirror Christ’s period of fasting in the desert before He began His earthly ministry. And I deny myself something that I want in order to submit my desires to God’s. If God wants me to drink Guinness on St. Paddy’s Day, He’ll arrange that dispensation; otherwise, my next tipple will be at Easter brunch.
That is also why I avoid some of the Pharisaical or Jesuitical practices (big words we could easily translate into modern language with “lawyerly”). For example, some friends offer to not drink in front of me; I insist they go right ahead and enjoy themselves, which is all part of my penance. Others recommend a non-alcoholic beer or a Mocktail which is promised to be just as good as the real thing; I decline, since the point isn’t the alcohol. And perhaps you’ve heard of Lent as a period of forty days, but if you count on the calendar from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday, there are forty-six days. Seems that forty total excludes Sundays, which are technically Catholic “feast” days when fasting and penance are inapplicable. Sorry, but that turns a long-run commitment into a series of one-week stands, which doesn’t sound theologically appropriate to me. Likewise, the fasting and abstinence rules apply only until age fifty-nine, but since God gave me more years than that, and I’m still healthy, I think I owe something in return.
Penance is a discipline, and it turns the mind from things we want or crave to higher things. I also gave up added sugar this year. Sugar is terrible for you, but I gave it up because I like it, and it’s so terribly addictive that I kept adding more just to make my coffee stay just as sweet. Every day starts with a reminder that while I would prefer adding sugar to my coffee, I said no. I don’t like my coffee better now, but it’s proving a solid exercise in self-denial.
Marriage, faith, or career all require hard work. It is rare to find a married couple who just always-and-forever get along. See one and ask them, they’ll tell you the relationship is either strengthening or weakening. You’re working on it or else. You won’t find a successful professional who is simply a natural. Even freakishly-talented sports superstars readily admit to thousands of hours practicing. And faith is the same. The more time and effort you spend on it, the better you are at it. Which is not to say it makes you a relatively “better” person. Just ask my wife, who readily admits I can be a just a subtle shade of irritable for some reason during Lent. I don’t know what the heck she’s talking about. Perhaps her penance is dealing with me during Lent!
No, giving up alcohol or sugar doesn’t make the world a better place. It may not even make me a more faithful person. But it’s an attempt at denying one’s self, and if there’s anything today’s world is sorely lacking in, it’s that type of self denial.
Forty years ago, at the height of the Cold War, a lowly US Army First Lieutenant took his pregnant wife on a week-long vacation (we didn’t have the fancy term “babymoon” back then) from Bavaria to the Balearic islands. They spoke no Spanish, had no cell phones, and had only a 1:250,000 government map to navigate by. They stayed in a tourist-package hotel near Magaluf, one which targeted Brits, evidenced by a full English breakfast and the London tabloids at the front desk. The hotel next door was for Germans: it had brƶtchen mit kƤse and the SĆ¼ddeutsche Zeitung to read. From this the 1LT learned that Americans weren’t unique in wanting things from home, even on vacation.
even impressive at night!
Only his pregnant wife had an international driver’s license–a must back then–so the Lieutenant was reduced to the role of navigator. They got lost, more than once, on mountain roads, looking for a religious relic in a remote village, following a tiny line on a large map (insert your favorite Lieutenant with a map joke here). They arrived in small towns without any ability to ask for directions or even for help. They sought and found a convent offering a unique local pastry by walking around a village until they saw a nun, then following her home. They ended up on a “bilingual” cave tour where the local guide described the cave formations for ten minutes in Spanish, then stopped and said. “The Madonna. See? The Madonna.” They attended a silly recreation of a knight jousting competition (complete with eat-roast-chicken-with-your-hands) because it actually made sense regardless of the language.
and more so inside
It was their first great travel adventure. They survived, proof that there are Guardian Angels and they do look after fools and children (the couple qualified both ways). It was a great success, and they had stories to tell which still amuse themselves and others to this day.
When we started on planning a visit to try out the region of southern Spain, Judy asked me if we would be far from Palma de Mallorca? Why, no, and so here we are, forty years later, back where all the wanderlust started. The Cathedral still stands as mighty and majestic as always, but there’s an entirely new chapel with a Antoni Gaudi influence. The arch which was a must-see in the 1980s (“it had a mix of Roman, Muslim, and Christian influences”) is only a footnote now, found via Google Maps. One can’t get lost, even navigating the winding backstreets of the old city, because GPS tracks your every step. And the little lanes and winding country roads are now well-lit streets and highways courtesy of the European Union.
The now-obscure Arch
We speak Spanish, but everybody speaks English, too. Oh, and some German here. There are still little hotels catering to Brits and Germans, but who needs newspapers when your smart phone is in constant touch with news back home. On our last night, the hostess at the tapas bar heard us speaking English, so she assigned the English-speaking Argentine waitress to our table. When Judy started ordering in Spanish and we explained our home in Mexico, the waitress loved it. We even found a little Catholic church back near Magaluf, where the very English congregation holds one English-language Mass every Sunday with a very Nigerian priest presiding. Such is the world today!
Mallorca retains its unique culinary traditions, a mix of Spanish and North African, as translated by the Catalan settlers who civilized the islands. Plenty of delicious seafood, rabbit (like Malta), olives in every form, and of course tapas. The road signs are a mix of Mallorquin (local Catalan dialect) and Spanish, which at times even defeated SeƱor Google Maps. We traveled among the locals, visiting Sunday markets and strolling through the plaza, secure in the knowledge that even in a tiny village, we could find a kebab place for lunch–because who doesn’t want kebab for lunch? Apparently the whole word does!
We walked, we drove, we wandered, seeing how much had changed and how little, too. Mostly we recalled how much we had changed . . . and how little, too! The Balearic islands are known for partying, nature, and glitz (Mallorca, Menorca, and Ibiza respectively, although there’s a mix on all three). We were then youngsters “putting away childish things” and becoming adults. We had dreams of children and career and travel. Now we’re far more mature–at least in years–and we have realities of grandchildren, retirement, and still travel.
Perhaps Buckaroo Banzai was right: “no matter where you go, there you are.”
What’s better than being an expat? Maybe an intercontinental expat? A Tri-national? We’ve noticed that every Spring, we like to head to Europe for a few weeks. It is the period of the worst weather where we live–although I would note it is still not bad weather, per se, just dry and warm (90 F) with no rain in sight. And it’s shoulder season in Europe, with improving weather there but without the large throngs of tourists and expensive airfares. We would spend more time there in Europe, but we get tired doing the bag-drag as we visit all those wonderful places. Which got me to thinking, which is always dangerous, as my wife likes to say.
CĆ³rdoba Courtyards I
What if we got a holiday home somewhere in Europe, where we could go and stay for an extended period of time. How long? EU rules permit tourists to stay 90 days out of each 180, so an April-May-June period is doable. I considered Airbnb and its variants, but we don’t want to be trying a new place every year, and there is no guarantee you can get the same place. We don’t want “a” place, we want our place. But what kind of place?
CĆ³rdoba Courtyards II
Has to have great weather during the target dates. Small city or village, not big urban setting. Apartment or small house; we don’t need a big property, and can’t have a yard or garden to maintain. Are such things available, and affordable? Turns out they are! We’re not talking about those One Euro houses you sometimes see advertised: here’s two words of advice on those–JUST NO! But reasonable and affordable small homes and apartments are available for a few tens of thousands of US dollars! Why?
Columbus tomb in Seville
Many European countries are on a population downslope, a decade or more ahead of the US, which is experiencing the same phenomenon. In brief, there are two sets of aging grandparents with one child each, the coupling of which has one child. So there are three households, many times in small cities or villages, and only one young adult to inherit them. This adult wants to live in the big city, where there are jobs and opp-or-tunities (as Eminem sang), not in Grandma’s village. So these small houses are for sale, and there are many of them, which drives prices down. The trick is to find one which doesn’t require enormous renovation, is livable, and is in a town not on the brink of itself expiring.
Scenic overlook of the gorge in Ronda
My basic research indicated two target areas: southern Spain (AndalucĆa) and southern Italy (Puglia and Sicily). Both have great weather and many available properties. Spain has a well-developed expat market paved by Brits back before Brexit. Italy has the same for Americans returning to their Italian roots. Spain has a language advantage (for us), a better, high-speed, rail network, and allows tourists to own cars. So we made our way to AndalucĆa to see how it feels.
MƔlaga Waterfront
Much as Jalisco summons up Mexico, AndalucĆa calls to mind Spain. Tapas, Flamenco, bull-fighting, Jamon Iberico, and more history than anyone can possibly consume. CĆ³rdoba and its alcazar, MĆ”laga and the sea, Granada and the Alhambra. It all felt oddly familiar. We had no language difficulty at all. We refused to adopt the Ca-thil-ian lisp, but no one paid our “esses” any attention. A few times we caused some confusion with a pronunciation gaffe, but generally everybody was welcoming and genial. The culture was easy to adapt to, with the exception of the hours. They keep to the afternoon siesta, but eat another meal around 10:00 pm! Given we have taken to eating only breakfast and lunch, we got along fine, but I have no idea how Spaniards do it, eating so much so late. And it remains the case that nothing happens before noon on Sunday, owing to Saturday’s late night revels.
Snow-capped mountains from the Alhambra
The weather in January is about as cold as it gets here: 50-60 daytime, 40-50 nighttime. Bright sun most days, with fair skies. Cafes are still open, and restaurants have outdoor heaters. Even the beaches are still active, although more for exercise than sun-worshipping. The summer can get beastly hot (>100 F), so air-conditioning is probably a must, heating a maybe. Spring might require neither.
Cave bar in Setenil
AndalucĆa passed all our tests. We probably won’t go looking for a place in the big, touristy cities, even in the suburbs. But we saw plenty of smaller towns and even villages that were attractive options. Welcoming culture, great food and weather, good-to-great transatlantic options (including a nonstop from Guadalajara to Madrid): All boxes checked. Come Spring, we’ll give Southern Italy the test!
One of the things making expat life such a phenomenon is the internet. No matter where you go, you can bring parts of your life with you: television shows, sports, even family connections. This access greatly mitigates the home-sickness any expat might feel living far away in a different culture. Of course the internet is (in the famous quote from the late-Senator Ted Stevens) “a series of tubes” through space. Tubes, cables, whatever. The ridiculous metaphor works on many levels, since a small series of cables is the lifeline which provides the whole world to your home. Yes, your telephone does it without cables and delivers it to the palm of your hand, but only a digital native wants to stare at a palm-sized screen all day.
When we arrived in Mexico, our first house had internet supplied by TelMex, the onetime Mexican government utility now owned by Mexican billionaire Carlos Slim. It was old-school copper, bundled with your landline, and you could get upwards of 20 Megabytes per second (mbs), enough to stream live television. Reliability was always an issue, with frequent outages and significant speed lags when more users logged in. Years behind the developed world, but good enough.
Eventually fiber optics came to Mexico. TelMex by law had to provide it to all customers, installed free of charge, but their roll-out plan was several years long. Our neighborhood paid to jump the queue, getting fiber optic cable installed early. Of course it was a classic negotiation: we had to pay to have it done, while those immediately around us declined to join in, getting the installation for free. Our neighborhood voted to go ahead, since we wanted the improved speeds (>50 mbs) and reliability. As for our other neighbors, it was just their good fortune to get access, too.
You might be wondering at the fiber optic speed, as in the States it would be in the hundreds of megabytes per second. Here, the fiber optic cable runs to a box in your neighborhood, but the last hundred feet or so are still copper cable into your house and modem, resulting in less performance. Fiber optic cable is expensive and delicate, so TelMex decided to take the performance reduction and avoid the problem of all that cable maintenance. I can’t say that I blame them. If you step on it, kink it, or otherwise molest it, fiber optic cable dies. Copper is far more resilient. You’ll see just how much more later.
Years later we moved into another house closer to the Ajijic centro, and the TelMex fiber optic was already in place there. We were all set for about a year, until the quality and the performance became unstable. It went out for days at a time, and when it worked, speeds dropped below one mbs (barely able to read e-mail) in the evening. Needless to say, television and streaming were out of the question.
We flagged down a TelMex vehicle in our neighborhood (that’s what you do here), and the technico (repairman) agreed to take a look. His instruments told him there was a signal getting through to our modem, but it was very weak, and there was something wrong down the line leading into the house. He showed me where our connection ran along our property line, then into a retaining wall and down to a junction box. The copper cable was stuck inside a broken, corroded plastic tube as protection: for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been lying on the ground. And in the junction box was a mass of extra cable, left there by the installers probably because they didn’t want to bring it back. It was a mess, and the technico couldn’t tell where the problem was, as he was primarily an “indoor” repairman, and this was clearly an “outdoor” problem. He worked for several hours identifying where the cables were, but could not help us any further. He even refused a propina (tip), as he said it was just his job. We weren’t excited about contacting TelMex for help, as we had heard plenty of stories of bad customer service.
Look closely, …I don’t think this is up to codeNope, certainly not right!
We had upcoming travel, so we delayed contacting TelMex. We adapted and endured for a few months. I started using the internet early in the morning, when there was sufficient bandwidth. Judy & I shared time, to make sure we both weren’t trying to use the same few mbs. We sometimes used our phones, even for hotpots, but our T-mobile unlimited international plan throttles you down to 2- or 3-G speed when you are outside the States. We made do. Finally, the internet connection went out completely, and we had to contact TelMex for help.
Judy used the app (en espaƱol) to alert them to the problem and what their technico previously had told us. She lost the chat before she completed it, and thought she may have to start over. When she did the next day, they informed her that we already had a trouble ticket and would see a repairman shortly. At least they didn’t say, “maƱana.” The next day, he alerted us he was coming and arrived late in the afternoon. He confirmed we had no connection, and I showed him the cable and the junction box. He inspected the cables, and while he agreed they weren’t protected properly, he said the problem must be further up the line.
He walked along until he found the appropriate utility culvert and opened it up. Inside there was another mass of cables, and another junction box for the incoming fiber optic cable. The tunnel was full of dirt, water and an ant colony, the latter quite upset their secure complex was disturbed! The technico brushed all this off (he had seen worse, obviously) and picked up the fiber optic cable, half of which was sticking loose out of the junction box. You could see the cut open ends of the cable and the light shining through! How it got that way he didn’t know; he seemed amazed anybody in our neighborhood had internet with that connection. He told us he needed to return the next day with more equipment and a partner to help test the re-installation.
Late the next afternoon, they started in on the junction box, cleaning the leads and reconnecting the cable. After about two hours, he came up to the house to say they were done, and our internet connection should be restored. It was: a bounteous 50+ mbs! Yes, we still see pretty substantial changes in speed, and brief outages. And we’ve purchased a Starlink dish as satellite backup. And no, the TelMex workers still refused a propina.
Lessons learned? Internet access is a key component to expat life. We bank, connect to family, plan travel, and socialize using it. TelMex customer service was very good. They were willing to speak slowly in Spanish, and happy we could understand and respond. Things like internet speeds are relative, and you can live with much less than sizzling. Global internet access continues to increase. It is amazing to me we’re using the same satellite system (Starlink) as a back-up that the Ukrainian army is using to fight the Russians, but that’s the nature of technology today. Sometimes old tech like copper wires has its uses, especially if the new tech like fiber optics is fragile.
Nothing momentous, just another aspect of life as an expat.
Back after Christmas, we flew from Tijuana back home after getting stranded by bad weather. As a result, we ended up with a large credit on Volaris, a discount Mexican airline beloved by those who are under 5 feet 4 inches, travel with only a purse, and don’t really care what day you depart or arrive, as long as the cost is under $50 USD. I exaggerate. Only slightly.
Being a discount airline, Volaris helpfully expires your credit after only six months, relieving you of the burden of actually using them. Some of our hefty credit was about to expire, so we decided to risk another spin on the Volaris Wheel of Fortune. But where to go? Why not Baja California?
During our Christmas cruise, we visited Cabo San Lucas and Todos Santos, at the very bottom of the peninsula; so this time we headed back to Tijuana, to see the area inland at the very north of the peninsula, called la Ruta del Vino, which lies just north (and inland) from Ensenada.
This area, the valle de Guadalupe, is where 90% of Mexican wine is produced. Mexican wines have a growing reputation in the wine world, based on two important facts: the first is European vintners who wanted to go to the New World and try something new, and the second is Baja’s unique climate, which has many of the advantages of California’s wine growing regions without the costs.
Our concept was simple: fly up during the week, hit a few of the two hundred-plus wineries, eat at a few promising places, then come back home before the next weekend’s crowds. There was one flaw: Volaris. They attempted to involuntarily change our itinerary twice before the trip, once moving our departure back a day, the other time changing our three-hour afternoon return flight into an overnight red-eye. I was able to adjust and keep the flights as we wanted. But of course, Volaris had the last word. When we arrived for our afternoon departure from Guadalajara, they announced a three-hour delay (no explanation, no weather, just sit and wait). We also got to enjoy Volaris’ unique boarding and de-boarding processes, modeled after those you might have last seen at Kabul international airport.
After surviving the one-row-at-a-time deboarding (which sounds good, but when one’s hand baggage is not directly above one’s seat, and you can’t get up to get ready until the flight attendant approves, it’s achingly slow), we found the 24-hour Alamo car rental kiosk empty. The taxi hawker told us he knew where Alamo’s office was; they were supposed to be at the airport, but of course they weren’t. As the taxi took us ever further from the airport area and into Tijuana, Judy finally got the Alamo office phone number to work, and they informed us to turn around and go back to a different location, where we finally got our vehicle. As this was the week after the Standard time change, we didn’t arrive till after dark. So our leisurely and scenic afternoon drive along the Pacific coast turned into fighting rush hour in Tijuana, then driving in the dark along the unlit roads of the Baja interior wilderness.
An “intersection” in Baja
And by wilderness I mean no streetlights, few road signs, and one (count it, one) paved highway. Topping it off, Waze decided a route over the mountain was a few kilometers shorter, so it sent us that way instead of on the highway through the valley. The blessing was that in the dark, I couldn’t see the cliffs we were snaking around. It was not a promising start.
Vines & MountainsCabanas on the hill
Still, the morning dawned and we saw what we had missed the night before: the natural beauty and bounty of Baja. We had a cabaƱa at one of the boutique wineries, set amidst the vines. This is a growth industry: nearly every winery we saw was adding acreage, building cabaƱas, or enlarging tasting venues. The valley is close enough to San Diego that there is a steady stream of Americans taking day trips on guided tours, then there are the shore excursions from ocean cruisers, and finally the more adventurous types (like us) just arranging it all on their own.
Just a part of the valle
We have never been to Napa, but based on what I read and heard from others, the valle de Guadalupe could be described as either a poor-man’s Napa or Napa many decades ago. The vineyards are in, the wines are improving, the wineries are branching out into tours and restaurants. Higher-end gastronomic experiences are spreading, featuring fresh seafood and exotic fusion cuisine. There is a small but increasing set of gastropubs and microbreweries, too. The infrastructure remains pretty basic, but is geared toward American tourists. Most of the working locals we met at tastings were surprised to find gringos who spoke (or at least tired to) espaƱol and lived in Mexico.
If you don’t stop here, you may not be allowed to leave Baja!
Since we primarily eat breakfast and lunch, and our hotel provided a freshly made breakfast plate each morning, we were limited in our ability to sample the cuisine. One of our two lunches had to be at la cocina de DoƱa Estela, a local favorite once named the world’s best breakfast restaurant. Down a rutted dirt road, in the middle of nowhere (Baja, remember), we had a huge steaming plate of machaca (dried shredded beef re-hydrated while cooking with eggs, peppers, onions, etc.) and another of corn pancakes, a savory take on a usually sweet breakfast staple. With drinks, the total was around $500 MXP (perhaps $25-30 USD), and the portions large enough we could have skipped our first breakfast that morning. We didn’t, because like all hobbits, one must eat both breakfasts!
As to wines–we did come here to taste the wines after all–we had an enjoyable time sampling a variety of types of wineries. Again, one can’t miss L.A. Cetto, the largest Mexican winery and local mega-producer. This winery aims at the low-to-middle class market, aiming to make drinkable products for the average consumer. I’m no expert, but I am in the target demographic, and we liked their offerings. At the local wine museum, the curator told us her favorite boutique vintner was Magoni, so we tried that one, too. This was an intriguing, new winery in a beautiful location. We sat under a giant tree which had been cultivated to provide a tent-like canopy over about a hundred tasting seats and tables. Another enjoyable experience.
Wine museumLA CettoMy sweetie at a tasting
There are so many vintners experimenting in Baja you can find almost any combination: organic? Si. Straight traditional varietals? Si. Obscure blends? Si. The lure of a start-up region which doesn’t have many rules is attractive to some in the industry, who like working with unusual blends and varietals
Advice for visiting Baja? Either come midweek on your own, or get a tour. Many of the larger wineries (for tastings) and restaurants insist on reservations on weekends and during the high tourist season, and a tour will cover you for these. There are plenty of small, independent operators who won’t break your budget, and they help out local small business-types. I would plan to visit at least one of the scenic, high-end restaurants with a view for a sunset dinner. If you’re on your own, don’t overdo the tastings, and make sure your rental car has some off-road capability (most do). Don’t be afraid to try the seafood: its fresh and delicious! I doubt the wines are world-beaters (if you have that type of palate) but it might be fun to visit and taste at a place that eventually will be world-class. Enjoy!
As I write this, Israel is pounding the Gaza strip with munitions, and starting its ground offensive into the tiny, heavily-urbanized area. Several Arab states, news networks, and pro-Palestinian groups have already called these actions “war crimes.” Others have stated the current conflict must take account of the decades of Israeli “occupation” of formerly Palestinian territory, as well as the degraded treatment of the Palestinian people therein. The UN Secretary General opined people need to understand “the context” of the current war. A US State Department employee resigned in protest over the US provision of weapons to Israel, citing the fact such weapons “could be used for war crimes.” And even the President of the United States, while maintaining total support for Israel’s right to self-defense, has voiced “concerns” over the conduct of ground operations in the Gaza strip.
The Catholic theologians (and Saints) Augustine and Thomas Aquinas put forward the basic principles of Just War theory, Augustine in the 5th century later embellished by Aquinas in the 12th. Those principles have stood the test of time, being codified in various international treaties and conventions. There are two fundamental questions: whether the war itself is “just” and whether the war is being conducted “justly.” The points are independent: you can fight a just war unjustly, and you can fight an unjust war justly. Let’s examine whether Israel is engaged in a just war, and whether it is conducting it “justly.”
The principles of a just war (jus ad bellum, for those who had Latin inflicted upon them) are thus:
Just Cause. The damage inflicted by the aggressor must be lasting, grave and certain. Here there is little doubt that the terror attack of October 7th qualifies.
Proper Authority. War may only be declared by a legitimate government on behalf of its people. The Israeli administration at the moment of the attacks was quite divisive, but in a true show of support, all sides formed a national unity government to declare and conduct the war.
Right Intention. The purpose of the war must be the stated intention, not masking another motivation. This is always tricky. The stated purpose of Israel’s war is to eliminate Hamas, and that would qualify as just. Some claim Israel really wants to ethnically cleanse Gaza, or kill Palestinians, citing remarks by some Israeli officials. The final answer here must wait, but the stated intent suffices in the meantime.
Last resort. All peaceful alternatives must be exhausted, ineffective, or impractical. Given that Israel has left Hamas to run Gaza for more than a decade of missile barrages and terror attacks, resulting in only more of the same, this point is met.
Proportionality. The good achieved must not be outweighed by the harm done. Another tricky one. Ending Hamas’ reign of terror for Israel AND for the Palestinians in Gaza is a pretty big deal, but it can’t come at the cost of destroying all of Gaza, either. Israel has not suggested the latter, so they again meet the standard. But it must also be understood that this criterion is not some absolute check on military force: there is no such thing as a hostage-veto or an innocent victim-veto on war.
Probability of success. There must be a reasonable chance of achieving the war’s stated purpose. Few doubt the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) abilities here; many question the relative costs.
By these standards, Israel is engaging in a just war. This determination can be reviewed, for example, if a secret Israeli memo came to light calling for the eradication of the Palestinian people rather than simply Hamas. But claiming this is their intent is insufficient.
But is Israel conducting this war justly? Here are the criteria for fighting a war justly (jus in bello):
From the New York Times: Dark orange represents new strikes by IDF
Discrimination. Armies should fight armies, and strive not to intentionally inflict harm on non-combatants. The IDF directed Palestinians to evacuate the northern half of the Gaza strip. While many humanitarian organizations decried the 48 hour deadline Israel announced, in fact the IDF waited weeks before ground operations commenced. Notifying civilians where they should not be also tells Hamas where the attack will come, so the IDF has gone above and beyond initially. Compare that to Hamas, which ordered Palestinians to stay in place. What about the thousands of IDF strikes in Gaza since the October 7th terrorist attack? Hamas (and other groups) have continued to launch rockets and missiles in response, so they retain some offensive capability. Video footage shows the results, but also attests to the fact that the Israelis are using precision-strike munitions to take down individual buildings. Even the pattern of destruction demonstrates the bombings are part of a coordinated effort to assist the ground operation, establish a new buffer zone, and isolate Hamas fighters, all legitimate targets. So the IDF is currently meeting this standard for fighting justly.
Due proportion. Combatants must use only the means necessary to achieve their objectives. This principle is best explained at the extreme. For example, the IDF almost certainly has tactical nuclear weapons. They could blast Hamas and the entire Gaza strip into nothingness with a round or two, accomplishing their stated objective of eliminating Hamas but at an inhumane cost in innocent life. In the real world, this principle is much more debatable. What about the 8,000+ (and growing) list of Palestinians who have already been killed since October 7th? First off, this total is supplied by the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry. Many aid agencies claim that past data provided by Hamas has been accurate. There are two problems with this claim. First, the data does not indicate if the deceased were members of Hamas: so it mixes innocent civilians with legitimate military targets. Second, this same ministry immediately blamed the IDF for the explosion at the al-Ahli Arab Hospital, claiming 500 people died. The ministry provided no evidence of the casualties, nor of the bomb. Subsequent analysis by several news organizations and the US Intelligence Community concluded the explosion was not an IDF strike, was most likely caused by a malfunctioning Palestinian rocket, and the casualty counts were inflated.
During the initial attack on October 7th, over 1,200 Jews were killed and over 4,200 were injured. Even accepting the Hamas data, the IDF has thus far met the standard of proportionality. The debate about proportionality will be an ongoing one as the war continues.
Even if Israel has met the technical standards for starting a just war and is currently fighting it justly, what about the larger claims of Israeli occupation and mistreatment of the Palestinians? Much is made of the Israeli total blockade of Gaza. However, international law permits Israel to ensure no military resources enter Gaza, and Hamas admits it has food and fuel stockpiles which it is not sharing with the Palestinians. Hamas has also rejected US and Israeli offers of humanitarian aid. Likewise, Israel does not control the flow of refugees out of Gaza; Egypt does, as does Hamas. No Arab nation has (as of yet) agreed to accept Palestinian refugees from Gaza. One further point which merits consideration: Hamas has denied that its attackers committed any atrocities on October 7th, despite video evidence to the contrary. Hamas further claims that “average Palestinians” rose up on October 7th and took revenge on the Jews, committing the atrocities shown in the videos. So those who claim Hamas is trustworthy must admit that “average Palestinians” perhaps are not as peace-loving as depicted by some. Finally, Hamas admits it holds hundreds of innocent hostages in violation of international law.
From the New York Times: Blue arrows show initial IDF advances. The red line at the bottom is the wadi el Gaza, a marshy area which divides the Gaza strip
How will the IDF ground attack play out? As this map shows, the IDF will most likely occupy the area around the wadi al Gaza, which splits the Gaza strip in two. They will then reduce (military term) the area north of the wadi by destroying any remaining Hamas fighters, who will be cut-off from Hamas supplies and leadership south of the wadi. Once Hamas in this area is destroyed, Israel will declare this northern half of Gaza as a demilitarized zone under international authority (probably inviting the UN to administer it). Palestinians would be invited to return to this area, after being checked for Hamas affiliation. Israel will establish a new border zone, probably about two kilometers into the Gaza strip, which the IDF will treat as a free-fire zone complete with mines, obstacles, and walls (several layers). Any person or thing moving into this zone will be targeted and eliminated. All this could take months.
What happens after that depends on how the first phase goes. Does Israel then reduce the southern portion of Gaza, up to the Egyptian border? If the first phase went well, with fewer casualties and destruction, perhaps so. Does Israel invite non-Hamas Palestinians from the southern portion of Gaza to return? Does it give Hamas safe passage out, as it did with Yassir Arafat and his Palestine Liberation Organization when Israel besieged them in Beirut in 1982? If there is widespread destruction and international outrage, perhaps the Israeli government chooses this option. And once Hamas is gone and the threat Gaza posed neutralized, the Israeli government has a lot of soul-searching to do about its failure to anticipate the attack, to respond quickly and to come to grips with how Jewish or secular a nation it chooses to be. Certainly the Netanyahu government faces an accounting.
What of the Palestinians in Gaza? It is true that peace cannot be achieved by the Israeli eradication of Hamas. Peace can only happen when Palestinian leaders are honest with their own people and accept the following, which are all facts on the ground:
Israel is a Jewish state, and it has a right to exist.
Because of its long history of violent resistance, a future Palestinian state must be demilitarized, and may not be a base for attacks against Israel.
Jerusalem will remain a part of (and the capital city of) Israel, while peaceful Muslims will be free to worship at the al-Aqsa mosque complex.
Eventually, the strong, militarized border between Israel and Palestine may become more like a normal border between normal countries.
That’s it. If the Palestinians had accepted the initial UN offer, they would have had much more, including part of Jerusalem. If they had accepted the Oslo accords in 1993, they might have avoided the walls which now enclose them. If Gazans had not turned to Hamas, they would have avoided the destruction which now engulfs them. At every inflection point, the Palestinian people have made the wrong choice. Here’s a prayer they finally make the right choice now.
We’re rapidly approaching November, and with it, the Catholic feasts of All Saints and All Souls, which are better known locally as Dia de Muertos. No doubt you’ve seen the iconic imagery of Mexican culture: catrinas, calaveras, ofrendas, family picnics in the cemetery featuring foods the dearly departed enjoyed while in this earthly life, and of course cempasuchil petals everywhere.
A catrina, from a Diego Rivera mural
To the outsider, all this can appear a little, well, ghoulish. But it reflects a deep-seated Mexican (and Catholic) view of the world that I would suggest is something of a corrective to the one most Americans hold. Permit me to explain.
Colorful calaveras
First off, let’s do away with the growing, anhistorical proposition that the practices of Dia de Muertos reflects ancient Mexica (you know them as Aztec) beliefs. This was first posited during the 1930s as part of the indigenismo movement, accentuating Mexica themes in local culture. The socialist government of Mexican President LĆ”zaro CĆ”rdenas promoted these efforts as a counterweight to the Catholic Church’s power. It’s true the “Aztecs” performed ancestor-worship and believed human remains, especially bones, had magic powers. They often built racks of skulls of those sacrificed to demonstrate their power. And they had not one, but eight solemn days of remembrance, including two full months. None of which coincided with Dia de Muertos. I hesitate to consider what an AztecaDia de Muertos celebration might include, but all other such celebrations involved live human sacrifice!
An ofrenda (altar) with pan de muerto
What did coincide with the dates, as well as the parties, dances, costumes, altars, etc. were the Catholic feasts of All Saints and All Souls. You don’t need to be an anthropologist to understand this; just travel to any Catholic country in the Mediterranean (not the least, EspaƱa!) and you’ll see many festivals directly mirroring what goes on in Mexico. I’ve witnessed this false history phenomenon many times: with respect to Easter, Christmas and its trees, even the Camino de Santiago. Yes, some pagans in antiquity walked to Finisterre, as it was known as land’s end (or the end of the world). That hardly makes the Camino Frances a pagan tradition. Anyway . . .
What does Dia de Muertos tell us about Mexican culture, and why do I think it’s a lesson worth learning? Dia de Muertos rejects the notion that the dead are gone. They may not be here, among us in ways we can see, but they are somewhere; they still exist. They enjoy watching us, they appreciate it when we remember them, they take comfort in our successes and feel sad in our sorrows. This is a deeply comforting notion, not the least of which when joined with the notion that someday we will be reunited.
You can never have too many Marigolds (cempasuchil)
None of this whitewashes the truth of the deceased’s lives. They are remembered, warts and all, in the hope they have made it to heaven and eternal joy. It is incumbent on Christian believers to hope in the resurrection of the just, even for the worst of all sinners, as that portends well for our own souls!
This emphasis on a hereafter could lead to a certain fatalism, and I have heard gringos opine as much about Mexican culture. It’s true that Mexicans can get less upset about things that would enrage most folks from NOB. If you believe this life is all there is, you will both fear death and try to seize every moment of the life you have. This might lead one to fight every injustice, be more charitable, and seek to be a positive change. It might also lead to constant competition, thrill-seeking, and a winner-take-all mentality. I’ll let my good friends decide which they think is more prevalent today in America.
Mexican culture clearly feels differently. They don’t fear death, as the candy skulls and skeletal face-painting clearly attest. No tragedy in the world is off-limits to Mexican jokes, as a simple search on the internet will show. I won’t give an example, just to avoid upsetting any of my friends, but it’s very Mexican to laugh at misfortune, even deadly misfortune. Mexicans didn’t invent the slogan “stuff happens” (safe-for-family version), but they certainly live by it. The catrinas you see today began as a nineteenth century literary tradition, where living famous people were given a short, rhymed poem announcing the clever or ironic way they died. Think of a corrupt politician whose safe full of ill-gotten gains falls on him, or a glutton who chokes on a large bite of sausage.
The concept of life and its aftermath pervades all aspects of Mexican culture. See the legions of roadside shrines, carefully maintained by families and road crews alike, attesting to the death of a pedestrian. Stroll among the families sharing time together at the cemetery, remembering past generations. Watch the faithful crawl on bloodied knees across the pavement outside the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, praying for the repose of a loved one’s soul. It’s very real and very important to them.
Gringos ask things like, “Why don’t they do something to improve the safety of the pedestrian crossings?” “Why don’t they spend that money on educating their children instead of flowers for an ofrenda?” “Why do they still believe in such superstitions?” Hearing such things, most Mexicans would simply nod and smile, because by asking the questions, you show you don’t get it. There can be no answer, if you think this is all there is.
Mexicans, even those who no longer practice Catholicism, believe differently. And they live according to those beliefs. They are less acquisitive, less competitive (except with respect to futbol!), more likely to accept bad outcomes rather than rage at them. It’s not fatalism, because it doesn’t signify giving up, just accepting reality. What’s funny is, much of western therapeutic practice tells those who undergo trauma the first thing you have to do is learn to accept it. Mexican culture has that built-in: cheaper, quicker, happier.
While Disney has lately made a hash of its great tradition, I strongly recommend the animated movie “Coco” which even my Mexican friends cite as a fantastically good and true depiction of this aspect of Mexican culture. Warning: I’ve seen it about six times, and I have yet to get through the movie without tearing up. Just sayin’!
So before you go out and buy that Barbie & Ken-themed Halloween outfit, take a moment to remember those you might have forgotten. And for Dia de Muertos this year, pull Coco up and enjoy!
I know I’ve mentioned before my family’s peculiar habit of moving holidays to suit our needs. Thanksgiving is the big get-together for Judy and I, our kids, their spouses, and the grand-kids. Several years back, we tried moving our celebration of it up two weeks, to coincide with the Veterans’ Day Holiday in the States. It was magnificent! Not only did we have easy flights and easy time off from work, the weather was about the same. Of course once we broke through the notion that Thanksgiving had to be the fourth Thursday in November, inevitably it led to it being a truly movable feast.
This year, our daughter and family from Italy were coming back to the States for a wedding in October, so of course we moved Thanksgiving all the way up to then. Just so happens, Canada beat us to it: in case you didn’t know, Canada celebrates Thanksgiving, much the same as the States do, but on the second Monday in October. We insisted on a Thursday, so our combined family from the USA, Italy and Mexico celebrated almost-Canadian Thanksgiving in October. In Cincinnati, Ohio. Of course.
The trip began well enough. That first morning, Gramps (that’s me) and all the grand-kids got up at the crack of dawn for a ride out into the Ohio countryside to visit Holtman’s Donut Shop, a local legend. We had a list of desired donuts, totaling two per person per day. The entire operation was run with military precision: it is amazing what children will do when properly motivated by a maple-bacon cruller, or an Oreo Cro-nut. Reinforced with all that sugar, the day truly began.
There were a few hiccups. I contacted every local butcher shop, but none had fresh turkeys. Even a local turkey farm said “no bueno.” Judy pre-ordered groceries for delivery, so we would have all the necessary fixings. Except the Meijer grocery store decided not to deliver the frozen turkey. And the cranberries. And the Brussels sprouts. And the gravy. And what they did deliver arrived at ten pm, after saying they would deliver before nine. An unplanned scavenger hunt at local grocery stores the next morning replaced everything except the turkey, and as it was too late for defrosting anyway, we subbed-in smoked beef ribs and pulled pork.
Always take the family pic BEFORE the game, in case of traumatic injury!
While we were shopping, we decided we all wanted to get flu shots (the family that gets stuck together, sticks together, right?), so we asked for them at the Kroger minute clinic, which was advertising “walk-in convenience.” Apparently that means something other than literally what it says, as the flustered clinician told us it couldn’t be done for several hours. He couldn’t explain why, but that was that. We went to another Kroger and did get them done, but it took a good hour and a half.
The weather cooperated fully, and the leaves were starting to turn in southern Ohio, with crisp mornings and bright sunny days. On the day of our movable feast, we walked the kids around some local parks, just to burn off the donuts. By mid-afternoon, we were past the sugar high and ready to feast! And what a feast: the aforementioned ribs and pulled pork, corn and breaded cauliflower and Brussels sprouts and sweet potato casserole, Judy’s famous stuffing (with sausage, chestnuts, onions and bread), cranberry relish, fruit salad, crescent rolls and Outback Steakhouse bread (and yes, a bloomin’ onion, just because), washed down with wine and beer. If it sounds like an odd mix, that’s because Judy insists everybody gets to choose one item for the menu. There’s some horse-trading about the staples, then some one-off selections. And way too much food.
Bounty!
Then with full bellies we settled in for a nap!
In the huddle.At the snap!
No, just kidding. We hadn’t played the annual Turkey Bowl yet, so after just enough time for the food to be moved safely into our lower digestive tract, we walked over to the high school football field. The local team was practicing on their turf, but there was a flag football field helpfully marked off nearby on the grass, and the game was on. A bruising (mostly me, as I insisted on diving for a catch) battle ensued, ending with Team Gramps kicking a go-ahead field goal (3-0). The other team was given one last chance to win (sudden death rules), but their fourth down pass in the end zone fell incomplete.
Mad moves by the grand-kidsNotice the human-like goal posts! and “It’s good!”
Post-game celebrations included banana pudding, pecan pie, apple cobbler, and ice cream. Leftover donuts and pie were on the breakfast menu the next day, with ice cream, of course!
The grand-kids conducting in-person connectivity online. ‘cuz that’s what they do.
As we like to say in my family, a get-together with no police visits, emergency room visits, or familial brawls is a success. I wish y’all a Happy Thanksgiving, whenever you get around to celebrating it (here’s to you, Canada!). And if you find yourself stuck in bad weather or crowded airports, remember a better way for next year!
Watching the Biden Administration re-enact a scene from the Marx Brothers Duck Soup movie the other day prompted me to pen this overly long post. My apologies. I hope to keep it informative and entertaining despite its length.
Why Duck Soup you ask? Because of the absurdity of the claims made. On a single day, DHS Secretary Mayorkas said he had to act to waive several federal environmental regulations which prohibited construction of additional border wall along the US-Mexican border. OK, why? Because under American appropriations law, the money had to be spent for that, as that it is what it was designated for back in 2019 under the Trump administration. And now the money would expire if it wasn’t spent. So far, so good. All this is true. Then he went on to explain that there is a migrant crisis at the border, which justifies waiving the environmental regulations. Over 100,000 parents traveling with children crossed the border last month, an all-time record. Ummmm, but, well, that new border wall is only a few tens of miles long, and it’s not popping up overnight, but hey, ok, we’re still good.
Except the Secretary could have just refused to waive the environmental regulations, and what would have happened? The money would not have been lost: it just would not have been spent. Money we didn’t have (remember, all this is deficit spending, as we have been running a deficit annually for decades now) would not have been spent. So there must be a real migrant crisis, and the wall must help, right?
Except President Biden repeated Mayorkas’ claims about “havng to build the wall,” then added ‘No, a wall does not work.’ Then Mayorkas had to backtrack and agree with the President, but continue to claim he “had to spend the money.” Which was false. Which means the administration realizes it is under political pressure from all sides about the border and immigration, and it would rather lie and look like it’s doing something, even if that something doesn’t do anything in the President’s opinion.
“Just wait till I get through with it”
Hence Duck Soup.
To figure all this out, you need to know politics, appropriations law, immigration trends, and some international economics/trade. Hence the administration thought they could get away with it. Even mainstream media uncritically reported the claim “the money had to be spent.” If there is appropriated money which expires, but it is prohibited by other federal law from being spent, it does not have to be spent. Period.
La frontera, the border in EspaƱol, is a fraught topic. Unlike the Canadian-American border, which is far longer and still practically unregulated, the Mexican-American border is freighted with much history. It’s still the most permeable international membrane in history, with good reason. What crosses it is what makes it so important, so difficult to address, and so likely to make fools of idealists, politicians, and demagogues. And what crosses it in order of importance are money, drugs, people, and guns.
MONEY
For two centuries, la frontera was much like any other border: a sleepy land of lines where laws changed and nothing much else. There were national rivalries, some crime, an occasional invasion or raid, and that’s it. America grew into a world power and Mexico remained in the immortal words of Porfirio Diaz “so far from God, and so close to the United States.” Mexico advanced economically, too, but remained deeply entrenched in what was then-called the Third World. Then NAFTA, the North American Free Trade Agreement, happened. NAFTA integrated the American, Canadian, and Mexican economies to an unprecedented degree.
H. Ross Perot was right about one thing: the giant sucking sound you heard was jobs moving to Mexico. What he got wrong was the notion that there are a finite number of jobs and when Mexico gained one, America lost one. The effect on Mexico was profound, and its economy grew immensely, now the 14th largest in the world. Yes, some American business sectors suffered mightily, and individual Americans lost jobs in those sectors, but that was inevitable. All NAFTA did was decide who the winners were: China, Korea, Vietnam or Mexico. NAFTA picked Mexico. And all that did was make Mexico into a stable economy, give it a middle-class, and reduce the flow of Mexican migration into America. Pretty good deal, no?
Another effect was to make Mexico and America inevitably into each other’s largest trading partners, with thousands of business sectors where parts of the final product or service are seamlessly produced and assembled without legal friction. Our economies are integrated, and like Siamese twins, they can’t be easily disentangled. China tried to do it, and almost did, but the political and economic fall-out of the pandemic made American officials realize that friend-shoring (i.e., trading with close, friendly countries you can rely on) is essential. You don’t want to find out that all your medical gear and drugs are made by the angry country that might have just caused the pandemic, do you?
One last thing about money at the border. Because of historic migration trends and the continuing need for migrant labor, there are many ethnic Mexicans living in the United States. How many? Thirty-seven million approximately, making them one of the largest ethnic contingents in the American melting pot. And since la familia is everything in Mexican culture, they send money home to la familia. Called remittances, Mexicans in America used digital wire services to send a record sixty billionUSdollars home to Mexico last year, amounting to four percent of Mexico’s GDP.
In summary, more money transits la frontera than any border in world history. It is uniquely permeable, and both countries have spent a lot of time and effort to make business work effortlessly across it. No one can stop that for long, or change it significantly, without changing the basic structure of both nations’economies. And since it works so well, no one really wants to. The European Union has spent five decades trying to build something similar with mixed results. The United States and Mexico did it without really trying.
DRUGS
Believe it or not, the second most important thing crossing la frontera is drugs, and that is actually a subset of the money/trade aspect. Illegal narcotics are essentially just another product/service, wanted by some, provided by others. When something is legal or permitted in one place, but illegal or prohibited in another, clever people find a way to move it from one to the other to make money.
I am going to say something that will make my conservative American friends a little angry. The problem with drugs is not Mexico. It is America. Now for my liberal friends? The solution to drugs is not their decriminalization or legalization. The solution to drugs is ending American demand.
Mexico is only the focus of drug trafficking because of the fact of la frontera. Anybody who watched the original Netflix Narcos series knows the original cartels were Colombian, and the Mexicans were only middlemen who figured out how to muscle in on the business. Now the Mexican cartels are the biggest players, and that has caused untold death and mayhem in Mexico. Believe me when I say the vast majority of Mexicans would gladly accept the end of the reign of narcotraficantes, and in fact pray for it every day. No one is winning here.
Like any market, the drug trade has changed over time, responding to the changing consumer tastes in America. What started as mules (human and equine) carrying marijuana bales over mountain passes led to bricks of cocaine loaded in submarines and to packages of meta-amphetamine hidden in truck engines. Now the narcos have moved their dope-growing into America as individual states relax possession laws and the cartels focus on fentanyl. Why fentanyl? It’s an advanced, synthetic (nothing to grow), pain-reducing, euphoria-producing opioid, a miracle of modern medicine. Except it’s also highly addictive, cheap and easy to produce, and incredibly lethal in even tiny doses. A gram of fentanyl is fifty times more powerful than pure heroin, and there are versions one-hundred times more powerful than that. Added to other drugs, it increases the effects at zero-additional cost. Except those adding it along the supply chain don’t know who has added how much, so you get a record of over 100,000 America accidental overdose deaths in 2022.
Now you might think the cartels would NOT want to kill off their customers, but being the good businessmen they are, they realized long ago that American demand for drugs is what economists call “inelastic.” That is, no matter how much it costs in money, violence, death, or misery, there is unlimited continuing demand. So throw another fentanyl brick on the Bar-B! And how easy is it to produce? You need the raw materials, which are basically powders, and a pill or brick-making machine which is about the size of a home coffee pot. So when politicians start talking about taking out the fentanyl labs, stop listening, because they are speaking gibberish.
Why can’t America stop the drugs from entering? Too much legitimate trade crosses the border every day. We would have to stop the economy to stop the drugs. The drugs are too easy to hide, too easy to change transit methods (mules, slingshots, submarines, drones, trucks, tchotchkes, tourists, day-trippers, etc.), too easy to write off if they’re discovered, and it’s even too easy to bribe US Customs and Border Protection personnel. If Mexico disappeared tomorrow, we’d have the Canadian cartels to deal with the day after tomorrow. As the decriminalization and legalization experiment in the various states plays out, we will only change where and how America experiences its drug-induced misery and death. Until Americans stop craving drugs.
There is a final, cautionary note. Late in the 18th and early 19th century, The British Empire brought the Chinese Middle Kingdom to its knees, literally. It did so with the strength of the Royal Navy, the economic power of industrialization, and the subversive provision of opium, of which the Chinese simply couldn’t get enough. The leaders and the led in China gave up territory (e.g., Hong Kong, Macao), sovereignty , and their dignity, leading to what the Chinese called the Century of Humiliation. Current Chinese President Xi has called his efforts to lead China the fitting rejoinder to the lost hundred years. Is it any wonder the Chinese see the delicious irony in providing fentanyl precursors (and other drugs) to the cartels for sale to America?
PEOPLE
While desperate videos of asylum-seekers picking their way through razor-wire capture our current attention, the flow of people is only the third most important thing crossing the border. Why does the humanitarian aspect pale in comparison? Because of its size. No, really. That portion of it is so small!
Over three hundred million people, ninety million cars, and 4 million trucks cross la frontera every year. The border zone is incredibly integrated, even more so than the national economies. Mexicans shop at the big malls in Laredo, send their kids to private schools in El Paso, even drive to see the Buc-ee’s north of San Antonio. Americans cross to get dental crowns, prescription drugs, cosmetic surgery, even cheap daycare. Sometimes the crossing takes a long time, sometimes it’s fast, but it keeps happening every day. And the thing is, all these people go home every night. If they wanted to, they could stay, Americans in Mexico or Mexicans in America. But they don’t. They like their homes, their communities, their culture. They like visiting el otro lado (the other side), and that’s it. This is the daily fact of life along the border, and no politician or party or policy is going to change it.
Depending on the relative economic conditions in both countries, many young Mexican men (mostly) and women (some) head north for better paying jobs. Most do so temporarily, sending those remittances home, saving up money to move back home to Mexico and buy a casa or start a tienda, which earlier they could never hope to do in Mexico. Some stayed in America, like most ethnic arrivals there do. But consider this: is there any other ethnic migration to America that has had as many returnees as Mexico has? Like those living on la frontera, most Mexicans really like being Mexican, living in Mexico, eating Mexican comida and living la cultura de la famila mexicana. Believe me, they respect the United States, they wonder at the United States, they compete in futbol with the United States, and man do they like potato chips and Coca Cola! If all of Mexico really wanted to be in America, they could get here in about a week. Just sayin’.
What about some of the most common fake news themes regarding migrants?
Taking American jobs? At times, America had worker visas for Mexican migrants to work in the harvest period for various crops, jobs which even 1960s-era American teenagers and twenty-somethings wouldn’t take. It helped to regulate the movement of migrants, and there is still a need for such workers today, even though few Mexicans need those jobs now (it’s mostly other Latinos, now).
Are migrants a means of drug-trafficking? They were once upon a time, much like bootleg stills were a thing during 1920s Prohibition. But the drug trade is a major multinational business now, and handing fentanyl bricks to desperate, illiterate peasants is not an effective distribution system. So yes, you may find some enterprising coyote ad-libbing with some drugs and migrants on the side, but this is not the drug problem, any more than your batch of home-brew beer is the alcohol problem. A bigger issue is that the narcos realized that due to America’s dysfunctional immigration system, the cartels could use their old cross-border routes to smuggle illegal migrants. Here’s the real genius: the cartels only need to get the migrants across the border–it doesn’t matter if the migrants get caught! The Americans either let the migrants stay, or they return them to Mexico. Either way, the cartels get paid once, or twice, with no downside.
Are most migrants criminals? Well, by definition, almost all are since they violate some law in crossing the border, a technicality but one worth remembering. You’ll find no group more irritated by illegal immigration than legal immigrants for that very reason, even when talking about their own ethnic relations! But such immigrants are not more likely to commit crimes in America, when considering their economic status. Poor people get desperate. Given that being convicted of a crime is a sure-fire way to get deported, most illegal immigrants are fearful of the American justice system (they also have no experience in a “just” justice system) and are more likely to be victims of crime than perpetrators.
What is absolutely true about the number of people migrating into the United States is this: the absolute number America can accept is huge, almost immeasurable. The absolute number your community can accept is small, almost unnoticeable. America is so vast, with so many towns and cities and space, it could easily absorb huge numbers of migrants. But of course, not all at once. Homes and businesses and schools don’t spring up overnight. You can’t integrate people into a country when you can’t even speak their language, let alone know anything about their culture. Mexicans and Americans have been practicing this dance for centuries, and we’re pretty good at it. But now we’re dealing with Venezuelans, Nigerians, Afghans, Russians, Chinese, Cubans, Haitians, et cetera. There is unlimited demand for migration to the United States, because all those peoples realize something many Americans have forgotten: maybe it’s not a bad place after all. There has to be limits, rules, and a line. It is only fair to those who are here, those who already came her, and those who want to come here.
If America can accept many more migrants, it can only do so willingly in the mind of the polis, the public. Migrants are statistics, people happen in real places. When it happens to you, it becomes real. See how quickly those sanctuary cities lost their lofty ideals when the migrants actually took them up on the offer of sanctuary? It is not racist or nationalist to want your neighborhood to be the way it was when you moved there; it’s human.
The sensitivity among some Americans to immigration always appears shortly after an especially large influx. America has five percent of the world’s population and twenty percent of its migrants. Our current forty-five million migrants are more than the next four countries combined. That total represents almost fourteen percent of America’s population, just short of the all-time record of fifteen percent set back in 1890. That’s the period of the Know-Nothings, the anti-Catholic Blaine laws, the Chinese Exclusion Acts, the “Irish need not apply” signs.
People can accept change, but not too much, and not too fast. I live in an area which is sometimes called Gringolandia by locals, as so many American and Canadian expats live here the culture is different than the rest of Mexico. Can it cause some resentment? Yes. Does it create new opportunities? Yes. Is it manageable, if it happens slowly as opposed to in a rush? Yes. If you go into the southside of Chicago (be careful when you do!), you can probably find a ethnic Nigerian-community Catholic Church, with huge murals left of La Guadalupana (from the previous Mexicano worshipers) on the walls in the once-Polish neighborhood parish of St. Stanislaus. Change happens. America is actually good at it. And we need more Americans, wherever they come from!
GUNS
Weapons are the least important thing crossing the border, but they merit consideration, as some (especially in Mexico) contend they are an issue. Let’s see why. In case you haven’t heard, Mexico has a drug-cartel-violence-murder problem. How big a problem? Almost 43,000 homicides last year, putting them in the category of places like South Africa or Syria. Thousands of people go missing, usually the result of cartel attempts at intimidation, recruiting, or vengeance. The cultura of the extended Mexican family means most everybody has a relative involved in the drug trade. Which puts most everybody at some risk. This is also why targeting the cartels hasn’t worked so well for either the American or Mexican governments: you inevitably kill someone’s cousin, which means six new primos are aggrieved.
So are guns fueling the violence in Mexico? Well, if the cartels only had machetes, things might slow down a little, of course. The issue is what type of guns, from where? Mexico’s constitution contains the right to bear arms, just like that in the United States. However, legal weapons here are strictly regulated by type and number and use, and there is only one store, run by the Mexican Army, which retails weapons. Yet guns are everywhere, and so are gun homicides. The fact is, back in the 1970s, the Soviets flooded Central America with hundreds of thousands of cheap, reliable AK47s and other semi-automatic weapons, hoping to spark revolutions and keep the Gringos busy in their backyard. The AK47 is like a diamond: it is forever. Dig it up from a cache, oil it, clean it, and it fires like the day it was made. The AK47 is user- (but not target-) friendly, simple, effective, and plentiful. It is the narcos weapon of choice.
Do cartels import weapons from the United States. Yes. As they have diversified and made more money, cartels have illegally imported more exotic or expensive weapons from America. Some of those weapons are so powerful they over-match the Mexican military, and that’s a real-if-limited problem. Here’s the rub: if the Americans could magically shut down the flow of guns into Mexico tomorrow, the cartels could keep on shooting for decades. Why do some Mexican officials make such a big deal about American guns in Mexico? It is a convenient rejoinder: if the all-powerful American government can’t control guns from its side of the border, how can you expect Mexico to control drugs on its side of the border?
And there’s a statistics problem, too. To respond to the Mexican government’s concerns, the United States funds efforts to track weapons from the United States confiscated during crimes in Mexico. The funding keeps stats on how many are found, but only of those which are likely to be from the USA. Guess what? That’s a numerator without a denominator! So the stats show the number of such guns in Mexico increasing, but not what the relative percentage is. Maybe the number of American guns used in violent crimes in Mexico increased 100% last year. But if the number of American guns in Mexico is only 1% of the total number of guns used in crimes in Mexico, it is irrelevant. NO one knows, although any cartel photo shoot tells a story.
Simple solutions like “build the wall” or “sanctuary cities” are nonsense, and anyone who spouts them should be ignored. The social and economic integration America and Mexico has is an amazing boon for both, and should be fostered, never threatened. There are mutual solutions to the challenges posed by la frontera, but they require both parties in America, and both national governments, to avoid posturing and to give up slogans.
