Sea Glass with a darker green accent for the fireplace. You can make out the yellow of the courtyard, too.
Judy and I just spent the last three weeks hosting a group of between six and eight Mexican workers who completed several projects, most notably, painting our entire house, inside and out. They were with us from 8:30 in the morning until 5:30-6:00 in the evening, Monday through Friday, with a half day on Saturday. They did great work, including painting behind several climbing plants, even two rose bushes. Every night, they cleaned up and moved things so we could resume using rooms as they finished.
Reverse angle, into the kitchen.
With all the strangers coming and going, our dog thought we had lost our collective minds, although after all this time, he has decided está bien. The workers really were quite considerate, but I have to say that three weeks of people wandering around our house was enough. Not to mention we’re out of Coca Cola. And Mexico is just starting to enforce social distancing and closures and the like, so the timing actually worked well.
Another accent wall down the hallway. The sunlight makes the walls seem mottled with yellow, but they are sea glass.
Our house was still the original beige we chose eight years ago, so it was time for some accent painting and a little color. And we had some salitre to fix. For those unfamiliar, salitre (literally saltpeter) is a peculiar problem here in Mexico. It’s a condition where moisture works its way up from the soil through the foundation and into the concrete and brick walls, leading to paint peeling and cracking. I’ve heard several unconvincing explanations for why it happens, and even more unconventional–if not nonsensical–treatments. In the end, you scrape, treat, seal and repaint when it bothers you enough.
Here the yellow really comes through!
Our pallete is a combination of sea glass with a darker green for accents. We added a red accent wall in one bathroom. The bedrooms are from the same general pallete, but are deep blue, purple and gray. For the outside we kept the same bright yellow (it also shows up inside on our terraza and the atrium), except we used a better quality of paint with a full primer base that should last longer. The tropical sun is murder on your exteriors here; we just repainted after only three years!
Purple
Blue
Gray
and the accent wall in the bathroom.
So we’ll begin social distancing in our freshly re-painted house. At least the colors are soothing!
Back in the day, when I worked for the US federal government, I considered myself pretty well-read on matters of politics and history. Yet I had a glaring gap in knowledge when it came to Mexico: it was the forgotten next-door neighbor, a bit player that popped up once in the middle of the nineteenth century, again at the beginning of the twentieth, but mostly resided in the background. This was how Mexico was portrayed in my childhood education, and still was the way it played out during the Cold War histories north of the border (NOB).
In case my gringo friends suffer from a similar lack, here’s a short recapitulation of Mexican history.
Most everyone knows the region called Mexico today was once the land of several ancient Mesoamerican civilizations: Olmecs and Toltecs, Mayans and Mexica (or Aztecs). All were large, well-organized, purpose-driven (and bloody) societies: Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City) was the largest city in the world in the 14th century. By the time Cortés and his men arrived two hundred years later, they were awed by the huge city constructed on man-made islands!
Everyone knows the Conquistadores arrived, the locals died, and the colony of Nueva España resulted. The ensuing colonial system enriched a ruling class of Peninsulares (Spaniards born in Spain)) and Criollos (Spaniards born in Mexico) and exploited the indigenous peoples and the Mestizos, people of mixed ancestry. All this leads up to the Mexican War of Independence in 1810.
Padre Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla issued his famous call (el grito de dolores) for independence. Even many Mexicans today don’t realize that this call was not against the Spanish crown; Hidalgo defended King Carlos IV, who had recently been deposed by Napoleon (yes, that Napoleon). Hidalgo launched his revolution against the colonial system, believing that if the Spanish king only knew how bad things were in Nueva España, he would fix it. Mexican Independence Day, September 16th, is a huge fiesta when leaders in every town perform a variation on el grito.
While no one knows exactly what “¡Vivas!” Hidalgo called, it worked, and Mexico gained its independence. But only after a bloody war where several armies fought against each other, changed sides, and most of the leaders were captured, tortured, and killed. Peace only came when all sides were exhausted, and the outside power (Spain) became a Republic and lost interest. All-against-all violence to exhaustion becomes one recurring theme of Mexican history.
The general who led the final battle to control Mexico City, Augustín de Iturbide, became Mexico’s first Presidente, although within a year he was emperor! The wartime divisions between Republicans who wanted to liberalize or overthrow the system and Traditionalists who wanted a benign but powerful leader continued unabated, and became the second theme of Mexican history. Within a year, Antonio López de Santa Anna (yes, that Santa Anna) led a Republican force that deposed Iturbide, who fled abroad. Upon returning to Mexico, he was betrayed and executed. Death upon defeat is a third Mexican history theme.
A series of Presidentes followed, while General Santa Anna became famous for defeating a Spanish attempt to regain Mexico. Santa Anna, calling himself “the Napoleon of the West,” served as Presidente twelve times over twenty-two years. Among his misadventures were political moves which instigated the Texas uprising, and the atrocities that forces under his command committed in San Antonio and Goliad, resulting in the permanent loss of Texas. Later he was exiled, only to be welcomed back when the government needed his military skills (a French invasion in 1838) or when he schemed with the US government to sell some Mexican territory (in 1846). The latter became a pretext for the US invasion of Mexico, wherein he unsuccessfully defended Mexico City, lost all of Mexico’s northern lands, and was again exiled. He would survive to return to be Presidentebefore being exiled yet again. Santa Anna was the first of Mexico’s caudillos, military strongmen who became de facto rulers, and another recurring meme of Mexican history.
After a desultory series of battles between Republicans and Traditionalists, Benito Juárez assumed the Presidency in 1858. Juarez was an accomplished lawyer who came from humble indigenous beginnings, mirroring the story of his contemporary Abraham Lincoln up north. He instituted a series of Republican reforms, survived an insurrection against the same (The War of Reform), and resumed his Presidency after a 5 year interlude when France invaded, established a Latin Empire under Maximilian, then was forced to withdraw (you guessed it: Maximilian was executed). Americans already know the most famous battle of that war: an early Mexican army victory over the invading French at Puebla on May 5th, 1862 (hence Cinqo de Mayo).
Benito Juárez
Juárez’s success in establishing central government authority, separating church and state, and expelling a foreign invader make him a unique hero in Mexican history, and the only individual honored with a national holiday in Mexico (March 21st, his birthday).
In 1876, Porfirio Díaz, a successful general during the War of Reform and the French intervention, overthrew the Presidency upon the principle of no re-election. Ironically, Díaz did step aside after a term, but then returned to rule Mexico for thirty-five years, an era known as the Porfiriato. This period featured autocratic rule by a group of technocrats (called los científicos, or the men of science) who emphasized stability and progress, while doing little to improve the lot of the majority of the people living in poverty.
Such neglect led to the Mexican revolution in 1910, initiated by Francisco Madero and other liberals. The revolution devolved into a bloody civil war, with constitutional armies under Pancho Villa (yes, that Pancho Villa), Álvaro Obregón and Venustiano Carranza, traditionalist forces under General Victoriano Huerta, a peasant army under Emiliano Zapata, and various guerilla groups all fighting one another. After seven bloody years and the death of ten percent of the population, Carranza came out on top and promulgated a new constitution in 1917.
Carranza was succeeded by a series of fellow generals (Obregón and Plutarco Calles), but intrigue, revolt and assassination remained a serious challenge to stability. The new liberal ascendancy continued the tradition of central government control, but in the name of socialist principles on behalf of the people. Strict anti-clerical provisions stripped the Catholic Church of all property and prohibited any religious influences in politics. This led to the brief (1926-29) but violent Cristero rebellion, which left anti-clerical laws on the books but relaxed any enforcement.
To avoid the succession crises which had bedeviled past Mexican administrations, Presidentes were limited to a single term, and the Partido Revolucionario Institucional or PRI became the de facto ruling body of Mexico. The PRI hand-selected leaders for seventy-five years, during a period that included such important events as nationalization of the oil industry and creation of enormous government entities such as CeMex and PeMex, rapid industrialization and population growth, emigration to the United States, and the economic integration brought on by NAFTA.
Starting in 2000, Mexico entered into a true multi-party system, where first the PAN (Partido Acción Nacional) and now Morena (Movimiento Regeneración Nacional) have won elections, as well as the PRI.
In completing this post, I was struck by the parallels with American history, although in most cases the comparison is one of “roads not taken.” T.R. Fehrenbach titles his Mexican history (in inglés) Fire and Blood, for good reason. MesoAmerican prehistory was dependent upon blood-letting. The various Mexican wars of revolution, independence or invasion usually featured betrayals and treachery, leading to postwar reprisals against the losing side. There is a constant tension between a ruling elite based on ethnicity or religion or party and a larger mass of the poor just trying to make ends meet. At times a strong leader emerges who often makes dramatic changes, but sometimes overstays his welcome.
When you see all that Mexico has been through, it seems amazing they have come so far.
Friends kindly donated tickets to us for a cruise on Lake Chapala. The event was a fundraiser for a local dog ranch, but for us it was a unique opportunity to see lakeside from a different perspective.
Now with fewer words, more pictures!
The Batur, a three level floating fiestaStorm clouds threatened as we departed the dock . . . but cleared as we got further from shore. This shot looks toward the Racquet club.The mountains are very brown here in the middle of the dry season.By this point, we knew there would be no storm, but what about sunset?Right on schedule; Anther picture perfect day lakeside!
The ciclopista, with different colors, green poles, and cars parked on it in Ajijic.
Lakeside is a world unto itself: a string of small Mexican towns with an equally large expat population. The villages lie along the north shore of Lake Chapala, and they are connected by a single road: the carretera or “main street” to those from NOB. This carretera is emblematic of small town Mexico: it is only two lanes wide with some parking as it runs through the village of Ajijic. Alongside most of the carretera there is also a paved strip called the ciclopista, or bike path. Except where it isn’t there.
West of Ajijic, where the ciclopista is either just an extension of the road or divided old-school by temporary concrete barriers
Locals use the path to bike to/from work, or to walk to catch the busses which run along the carretera. Expats walk their dogs on it, jog or stroll on it, and sometimes drive golf carts down it. Motorcyclists use it to pass on the right, when they aren’t just passing on the right six inches from your car door. People park their cars on it in front of businesses in town. Where it is wider, as in the shaded area in La Floresta, people in a hurry drive down it, passing the slow crawl of cars stuck in the single (legal) driving lane.
In their defense, before it WAS a parking lane
The local government got a grant from the State to refurbish and improve the ciclopista. Previously, there was a variety of things delineating the ciclopista: concrete barriers, simple poles with reflectors, some trash cans with signs, some speed-bumps to let you know you were crossing the lane divide. Yet these were mostly permissive, in that they told you not to–but didn’t actually stop you from–driving there (as confirmed by the legendary tapatios who got tired of waiting in line and zoomed down it!).
Of course, before the work began, there was little civic engagement: suddenly, work teams started tearing up the road under banners proclaiming a State-funded refurbishment. Workers broke up asphalt, laid pipes, dug trenches and generally made a hash out of the one road which connects the communities Rumors abounded: they were laying fibre-optic cable (no) or widening the carretera to four lanes (no).
Reminds one of Omaha beach, no?
Soon the refurbishment began to take shape: the pipes were electric lines for new streetlights (a welcome addition, if true). The lights would be positioned among large concrete barriers which vaguely resemble World War II anti-tank obstacles. Oh, and amidst the concrete, small indentations for (wait for it) . . . planters!
Nice barriers! and notice the small planters in the middle!
With predictable results:
A Monster truck, which the crew was able to free!
A water delivery truck, which wasn’t as lucky!
Nothing says “no right turn” as much as concrete!
Here we are, months into ciclopista reconstruction.
Maybe this will be a ramp someday. Maybe not. ¡Es México!
Traffic remains stalled, although quite manageable if considered in NOB terms. Barriers have been erected, removed, and replaced. The government decide to have a meeting with local businesses. The first session was postponed due to overly large attendance and much yelling. At the second session, the government decided to let people vent for awhile, then displayed a master plan which is still unreleased. At least there was a plan!
I have to imagine that someone is getting paid by the yard for concrete, as there is way more being poured than is needed. Sometime they pour it, set it, and tear it back out, all in the same week. In the end, we’ll have a brand-new reserved lane for bicycles, pedestrians, and the occasional gringo who will try to drive down it.
When the local government first extended the ciclopista through Ajijic by removing a parking lane, locals predicted doom and destruction. But as you see by the photos, people still parked on it, and businesses still survived. While a concrete barrier will cut down on that, there will be delivery spaces according to the government. And I have yet to see a concrete barrier at the ends of the cross streets, meaning drivers could still drive down the ciclopista and park on it, which in Mexico, means they will.
How will it all turn out? ¿Quien sabe? In Mexico, nothing seems to happen for ages, then suddenly everything changes. People adapt, normalcy returns, and the cycle resumes.
You may recall my local rotary club, Chapala Sunrise Rotary, has an ongoing relationship with the village of Ojo de Agua to address their many needs. Much has happened over the past year, and the Rotary club went back out to Ojo de Agua to meet with the local government and people and take stock.
Affirming our past work with the locals in the village plaza
Over the past year, local and visiting (from NOB) Rotarians have regularly visited Ojo de Agua: to meet with the people and assess their needs, to plant fruit trees in yards, to tour and better understand the area, and to repaint the town plaza and refinish the roof of the gazebo. We did all these things with the active participation of the 300 or so people of Ojo de Agua, as well as our partners in Aipromades, a local multi-city health and environmental group.
Yet the big enchilada here is the need to replace the town’s water supply. Ojo de Agua means “spring” in español, and the town is unique in that while it lies on the shores of Lake Chapala, it has a natural spring which provides clean fresh water for the town. Or at least it did provide. Over the past five years, the spring has been producing less water over fewer months per year, leaving the townsfolk high and dry, dependent upon water trucks from the local government, buying garrafons from visiting vendors, or drinking coca cola. Coca cola, or coca as the locals call it, is the bane of Mexico, the drink of choice and a major contributor to obesity and childhood diabetes.
First the Chapala Sunrise Rotary Club helped the locals build a retention water tank near the village, hoping that storing water could help alleviate the occasional outages. Which it did, but it was clear the situation was deteriorating. At about the same time (a little over a year ago–yesterday in Mexico), the local government changed party control, and the new presidente (mayor) offered to work with the Rotarians for a more comprehensive solution.
That solution evolved into a full partnership: the Poncitlán government would drill a new well for the town, near the spring. Rotary would fund another retention tank and replace/extend the distribution pipe system. Aipromades coordinated with the villagers and provided clean water & health training. And the people of Ojo de Agua would agree to change habits and drink water.
The children preparing to demonstrate a lesson learned about clean hands; you can see the gazebo and freshly painted buildings in the background
Like any such effort, it all takes time. Poncitlan drilled a well and hit clean water, but the well hole didn’t hold up — it collapsed. So they are digging another well, better prepared to prevent another collapse. Rotary clubs from across the United States and Canada visited and sent monetary support: but we still haven’t secured the final approval and matching funds from Rotary International. As a federal bureaucrat of almost forty years, I have to say that the US federal bureaucracy has nothing on the Rotarians! Aipromades is completing the training for the vilagers, and the villagers are being patient (God bless ’em).
The architect, town delegado, and past rotary President (standing L to R) addressing the people
The locals were enthusiastic for the support. They are a marginalized community, geographically isolated from their local government and traditionally ignored. At the meeting, they implored the architect to have the only access, a dirt road, re-graded and a playground built: no sense holding back when el Hefe sends his rep to town! He made some phone calls, and promised to have the equipment on site soon, with the new well drilling to begin mañana (or next week).
All said, the kids had a great time demonstrating their knowledge of hand -washing and how germs spread, and the adults were satisfied our partnership continues to mature and progress. Patience is always a virtue; it’s also a necessity in Mexico and bureaucracy!
Perhaps you’re familiar with the Oscar Wilde quote that “a cynic is a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” A witticism, yes, but prices are an important part of expat life, just as they are for any retiree or those still working. How many friends and family do you know who are furiously running on the career hamster-wheel, trying to make enough to pay-off college loans, provide quality daycare, and save for retirement, while simultaneously maintaining a standard of life driven by society’s dictates?
Those costs show up in real terms as prices. So I decided to list some of the prices we face as expats today at lakeside, using an approximation of the dollar-peso exchange rate (actually 19.4 MXP per 1 USD, but we’ll round to 20 to simplify the math). Some of these costs are a little higher, based on our personal preferences: for example, I could get a haircut at a local barber for 100 pesos ($5 USD), but I choose to go to a salon. I won’t add tips, as that is a whole ‘nother story.
Here goes:
Weekly newspaper in English: 20 MXP, 1 USD.
Haircut at a salon, with wash and scalp massage: 200 MXP, 10 USD
Basket of fresh fruit/vegetables at market: 140 MXP, 7 USD
Sorry, we ate one avocado before I could snap the pic!
We don’t really buy clothes here, only because most Mexicans are so much smaller than us (we’re tall for Americans) that nothing fits: shoes are an impossibility! That will change, as I increasingly see younger Mexicans–especially muchachos–topping six feet in height. Likewise, electronic devices in general are more expensive here, but the Mexican peso has lost so much value (it was 14 MXP-1 USD when we bought our home) that such items are now competitively priced with the US.
Not the price of everything, mind you, but a useful survey and a brief explanation of how it is possible to retire–even early–when your costs in retirement are so low. Expat friends, feel free to add items you think are relevant in the comments, and others, ask if there is something specific you would like to know the price!
I may set some kind of record for misleading blog title with this one! The only Italian restaurant you’ll find in this post is this one:
Just an excuse to link to this song.
We’re in Playa del Carmen, at our favorite resort, the Valentin Imperial Riviera Maya. We spent a long weekend over Veterans’ Day (Remembrance Day throughout the rest of the West) back in the States doing our customary early celebration of Thanksgiving. I know I have covered this before, but it bears repeating:
If you face the challenge of getting an extended family together for Thanksgiving (might work for other holidays, but it really works well for this one), consider celebrating it on another week. Really. The date is arbitrary, first selected by Abraham Lincoln in 1863.
Think about it: choose a different date, and it is suddenly easy to get time off from work, to fly without crowds or drive without congestion. If you have a blended family, you can cede the traditional date to the other side, making you a hero . . . or at least less of a villian.
The post-turkey walk requires a photo op.
There will still be football on the telly, turkey to cook, overeating to indulge, and likely the same weather. The same crowd will show up; more, in fact since there are fewer excuses or challenges in getting everyone together, and less stress in travelling. It works, I swear!
Since we saved money by creating a movable Thanksgiving feast, we opted to hit an all-inclusive resort in Quintana Roo afterward. Again, taking a non-traditional route home allows us to access low-cost (SouthWest and Volaris) airlines and get a better rate for the stay, too.
So the other night we were sitting in a French restaurant under the tropical sky (which is full of clouds and rain).
Surfs up! Note the near-total absence of Sargassum (seaweed), a problem which they have solved.
Being a mix of Celt and Saxon, I didn’t miss the hot tropical sun: my people learned to fear the great glowing orb in the sky, as it turns us a very unnatural shade of red.
Escargot, Foie gras, yadda-yaddaThe entire coastal area near Cancun was a mix of jungle and swamp before the Mexican government agreed to commercialize it. This is beside the path from the restaurant.
I always wondered how they control mosquitoes in such an environment. In more than eight visits, I have nary a bite. Yesterday in the afternoon, I saw a thick smoke wafting past my balcony. I asked one of the workers what was on fire, and he explained they were fogging the mosquitoes. Glad to be only briefly exposed!
The resort getting in the spirit of the season
We’ll rest up for another day then back to the grind of retirement as an expat!
One stark challenge facing an expat is “how does one make new friends?” It is easy to forget how dependant we all are on our extended series of relationships: our friends. Leaving your friends behind–the people from your hometown, where you worked, where your children grew up–can be daunting enough, but is easily surpassed by the next step: where to find a new group of friends?
I had a lot of experience making friends growing up. In the seventeen years between my birth and taking the oath on the Plain at West Point, my family lived in eight different houses. Which may not seem that dramatic, but it also included one, six-year stretch in a single house! I attended three different high schools. I pretty much dreaded most moves, since as a card-carrying introvert each move required the dreaded “hello, I am the new guy here, please be my friend” routine. I finally mastered the process at my last high school, and it served me well in a brief military career.
Then Judy and I settled into Washington, DC, for the next thirty years. We did move around, gradually pulled ever closer, inside the beltway, like some comet being sucked into a black hole. Overstatement? DC is the place famous for Harry S Truman’s apocryphal quote: “If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog.” He didn’t say it, but it lives on because so many Washingtonians recognize its fundamental truth.
The answer is the same as it always was: to get out there and find people with similar interests. The challenge as an expat is exacerbated by the twin aspects of foreign languages and cultures. As Sam Cooke crooned:
Not really about friends, but you get the point!
“If I can meet ’em, I can get ’em, . . .” Luckily, an expat lakeside has numerous opportunities to meet people. This probably is the ‘secret sauce’ explaining why Lake Chapala is such a draw for North American expats. An expat here has all the ability to engage that friendly Mexican culture I wrote about earlier, but also can rely on a huge number of English-friendly groups and activities.
Our weekly English-language newspaper, the Guadalajara Reporter, lists fifteen different religious services each week, as well as some spiritual-but-not religious activities. We have at least three dramatic theaters, two cinemas, and several galleries. There are numerous classes for dance, crafts, languages, card games, and groups galore, ranging from a motorcycle club to Democrats Abroad. El Ojo del Lago, our monthly periodical, has two solid pages (small print) of non-profit organizations full of active individuals performing good deeds.
It’s digital: blow it up if you want to peruse the offerings!
Several expats acquaintances tell me that our area and San Miguel de Allende (SMA) are similar in that they both have well-supported expat infrastructure. Those who started in SMA but ended up lakeside say SMA is more stratified, more expensive, more cultured, and just busier. I’m sure the reverse set of expats (Lakeside>SMA) would call lakeside too blue-collar, too provincial, too small-towny. For beach-going expats, there is always PV, the Cabos, Cancun and Cozumel and Playa del Carmen. Merida is up and coming for a more authentic, but still tropical, experience. To each his own. Whatever your take on expat life, there are several locations in Mexico to try out, but not all have the same welcoming infrastructure!
The feel of warmth from camp fires roasting marshmallows. The aroma of turkey cooking in the oven. The sight of browns and oranges and reds and greens in the trees. The sound of a leaf’s crunch underfoot. The taste of pumpkin, naturally. The sense of summer gone, winter too soon arriving, yet an interlude of good weather and even better holidays.
Avocados available, year round
We don’t have Fall here in Mexico. There’s a word for it (otoño) and officially it is a season, but otherwise hard to distinguish from the rest of the year. The plants flower, fruit and drop their flora when they will. The bugs are always with us, although the mosquitos do seem a little easier to swat nowadays. This close to the equator, the daily dose of sunshine is nearly a constant. Oldtimer expats swear it changes by many hours, perhaps body memories of days gone by in the States or Canada.
We expats mostly know the rhythm of the rainy and dry seasons, which just tells you whether you need to remember to water your garden plants. As retirees, we have no work rhythm either, just six Saturdays and a Sunday (for those hold to a Sabbath of some sort). This makes the traditional holidays almost sneak up on you, as you lack those climatic hints and Mexican culture hasn’t quite embraced the omnipresent marketing NOB (are the Xmas decorations up yet?).
Plums, too!
Fall always was my favorite season. Perhaps living near DC, this was inevitable, since Fall is the one season where the swampy Potomac marshland that became the nation’s capital is habitable. In Fall the tourists were (mostly) gone, the students were (mostly) in school, the politicians were (mostly) away campaigning, and the money was (mostly) spent (Note: the federal fiscal year ends on 30 September), so there was a normalcy to match the decent weather.
This one has the Fall spirit, several times a year.
I wouldn’t say I miss Fall. I can still visit it whenever I want. When we took care of the grandkids last week, the leaves were turning, and that last morning, before the crack of dawn flight out of BWI, the dawn air was crisp and clear. We’ll be back again in November for early Thanksgiving, and those tastes of Fall are plenty. When the climate is as special as it is here lakeside, the sameness of the days are a blessing, not a curse.
Most expats at lakeside quickly adopt the refrain that life here is wonderful. Soon after, they start to lament all the newcomers and changes ruining paradise. I’m a little guilty, too, though I resist falling into the trap mightily.
You knew this was coming . . . RIP, Ziggy Stardust.
I am less of a “close the door behind you, and please, everyone go away” expat and more of a “change is inevitable” one. One hopes for the best and prepares for the worst, as they say.
What’s new in the few years we’ve been expats? Plenty, just in a physical sense. Due to the growing demand of (relatively) wealthy expats with need of medical services, we now have:
A new hospital, and
a new cardiac clnic, rising behind the old facade of a car wash (in yellow)
a senior living facility, under construction. Think they’re marketing to gringos?
Restaurants come and go (as in either move or close) all the time. Old timers blamed the boom and bust cycle of the off-season, when part-time expats flock home. We full-timers enjoyed the quiet time and the ability to drop in for dinner without a reservation, but it was hard on the business owners. Seems like there is no off-season any more, just “way crowded” and “less crowded” periods. Which should have helped the restaurants, but now land owners have started hiking rents by as much as 50% a year! So a restaurant which was marginally profitable a year ago might be priced right out of its location.
Retail locations continue to grow along the carretera (main street). Sometimes we have a case of in-fill, where a small lot blossoms into a retail complex, but otherwise the development grows like a vine alongside the road between Ajijic and its nearest neighbor, San Juan Cosalá.
Once an empty corner in town, soon to be a shopping center
Mixed use shops and apartments (where are the apartment windows?) next to Walmart
West of town, this farm field is about to become a materials yard.
There is a constant need for more and different housing, both for the torrent of expats discovering lakeside and the Tapatios who want nice weekend retreats.
This was an empty field when we bought our home. Now its a muy moderno subdivision.
Anecdotally, I’ve heard prices have gone up so much that the rental market is beyond the reach of locals, and many long-time residents have given up resisting the prospective fortune they own by selling and moving out. It is the challenge of living where so many other people want to live, even if in doing so, they change the character of what they sought. It’s the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle of living in paradise.
As Don Henley sang long ago, “you call some place paradise, kiss it goodbye.”
The development is for the good. In the past, our hospital (really more of a clinic) immediately sent emergency cases via ambulance to Guadalajara, but now they can be treated here. Eventually, the demand for housing will result in a demand for better services (like roads, trash collection, etc) although the lag will be considerable.
Even in the two and a half years we’ve been here, the physical scene has changed considerably, although I think the essential character of the place remains the same. The local pastor told me Ajijic is unique, in that there are three different villages: the locals whose families have always lived here, the Tapatios who vacation here on weekends and holidays, and the expats, both temporal and permanente. The mix remains about the same, and the three “thirds” still get along.
Paradise is a state of mind, after all. Oh, and the first rule of Paradise is (wait for it) like Fight Club: never talk about Paradise!
