Category: Preparation

Believe it or not, a full year has passed from last Halloween, the day I retired from active federal service. So I thought it was time to take stock and consider what surprised me and what didn’t about retirement.

First, I loved my work, but I don’t miss it at all. I miss the people, who are some of the most talented, dedicated public servants you could imagine. I still follow current events, and wonder sometimes about the “rest of the story” behind the headlines, but that is as far as the itch goes. That was then, this is now.

Second, you really must have some hobbies, commitments, or things you want to do with those hours that are suddenly all yours.  Yes, you’ll sleep-in longer, take naps, eat leisurely meals, read those books you always meant too, and maybe even work out regularly.  Guess what? I did, and there is still more time available on your clock. I have covered my new interests in past blog posts, but everyone who retires faces this key question: what do you want the next chapter of your life to be about? For the married and retired crowd, it is important to pick up some mutual interests. Yes, every couple needs alone time, but all relationships are either strengthening or weakening, and you can’t improve what you don’t work on together. For example, I ditched running, and Judy and I hike and work out at the gym together. I can easily see how couples who retire and don’t plan ways to spend time together could grow apart.

Next, we got to spend more–and better–time with our grandkids. Scheduling out visits with four working adults was always stressful, and put a lot of pressure on the actual visit. Now we can adjust to our kids schedules, and that makes it so much easier. We are still figuring out the fly/drive options, the week/weekend options, the summer/school year options, and (oh yeah) the holidays! We don’t have it perfected yet,  but man was it great getting to spend “days-n-days” with grandkids.

Stuff: we have a lot less of it! Once we got into the habit of not routinely acquiring things we saw or heard about, and then got rid of what we had acquired by putting it to the “do we really need this?” test, the burden of owning stuff mostly evaporated. It feels so much better, costs a lot less, and I can only think of one or two things I got rid of that I later thought I should have saved.

Mexico? Mexico has delivered as promised: less cost, less stress, great quality of life. The US President’s need to constantly berate Mexico has driven the Peso down and caused some irritation among the proud Mexican people, but they easily distinguish between what the US government says and does, and their expat neighbors (so far)!

Judy’s health has been outstanding; I feel the best I have in years, but have been plagued by a series of minor issues: higher cholesterol, some other blood work numbers out of kilter, more cavities, a nagging cold/cough/allergy of some sort, and that health scare right after we arrived here. The best news is the quality of the doctors and dentists has been good, and the costs really low. Judy will get a tooth crowned next week for about $200. We finally figured out how to submit our health insurance claims online back to the States, and the reimbursements have been quick and consistent.

Living in a small town, we have rediscovered what Edmund Burke called “the little platoons” we all belong to: communities. We have groups of friends: the Church group, our neighborhood(s), the Focus group, and so on. These groups continue to expand as we become more active in the expat community. Within each group we have made lasting friends that create a source of mutual assistance, understanding, and resolve.

Finally, my biggest surprise was this: once the stress of work/life was off, I could re-evaluate long-time personality quirks and habits and decide whether they were still necessary. I drive slower–not slowly mind you, but slower than before. And I hardly ever get angry while driving; I’ll get there, God willing, and if someone else needs to cut the line, Vaya Con Dios! I am somewhat less punctual. I still don’t buy into the fashionably late concept, but I don’t feel like I’ll waste the artillery bombardment if I don’t cross the LD on time (military jargon–sorry!). I am enjoying little things more: a sunset, or a hummingbird, or a video-chat about nothing in particular with a grandchild. Judy reminded me there is no Sunday-night-stomach-ache-ahead-of-the-workweek in retirement. She’s right. She’s always right: that is probably the least surprising part of retirement!

 

Our Stateside mail is delivered to our daughter’s home; she kindly screens it and lets us know if we need to respond to anything important.  We visited her recently, so we got our snail-mail in real time. One afternoon, she said “you got a letter from the IRS…it’s probably nothing; they sent me a survey last week.”

I glanced at the envelope and noticed official notification language, and a an action identification number, and I knew this was no survey. Now everybody dreads hearing from the IRS: they don’t bring good news. I was especially upset because of a past experience; let me explain.

Twenty years ago when I was filing my taxes, I did a worksheet showing my child care expenses (using TurboTax), but when I finished compiling my income, the program informed me that I was not eligible for a child care credit due to how much we earned that year. So I went ahead and filed and received a notification my 1040 was accepted and later deposited my refund.  About three months later, I received an envelope from the IRS. In it was a notice informing me that I had incorrectly filled out my 1040, that I WAS eligible for the child care credit, and attached was a check!

I knew they were wrong. The check had a 30 day expiration date, and I spent that time trying to get ahold of the IRS (before the internet, and before 24 hour call centers). On the last day before the check expired, I cashed it, figuring maybe the IRS knew more than I did, and I sent them a letter re-explaining the whole episode. I soon received a response from the IRS claiming I should NOT have cashed the check, that I was NOT eligible for the child care credit, and that I owed the money back to the federal government immediately WITH INTEREST. Three cents interest, to be exact. I sent them a check; I was tempted to put three pennies in the envelope, but I knew the IRS had no sense of humor, so I added the three cents interest to the check. The next IRS letter acknowledged my payment, but claimed it was deficient, since I actually owed six cents of interest, and I should immediately remit the remaining payment.

I lost patience at this point, and I sent them another letter explaining it was all their fault, I did not owe them anything, and I was not going to respond to them any longer on this issue. Only then did I get a final note saying the matter had been “settled.”

It was with this history in mind that I confronted this new IRS missive. It said I had not accounted for the profits from the sale of my home in 2015, and I should file the appropriate forms and schedules and pay them the appropriate amount, including penalties. The good news was, I took a loss on that home sale, so I owed no taxes. Only in the loopy world of taxes is a loss good news. That was what I filled in on a TurboTax worksheet that year, but apparently it did not generate a form and schedule letting the IRS know, so as far as they were concerned, I owed them money. Here is where the tie-in to being an expat comes in. See, the IRS is very impatient, and since this issue dealt with my 2015 taxes, they demanded I respond within 21 days. And I was in the US on a visit for six weeks.  And my records were all neatly organized and stored in….wait for it…Mexico.

I was literally driving cross-country the next day, so when I arrived in the late afternoon, I called the IRS response phone number and dutifully waited until my call was answered by the next available IRS agent, about 30 minutes. I dreaded this call. I did not have any documentation with me, I did not have easy access to same, and I knew (by reviewing my 2015 1040) that I had not submitted the proper forms, so the best I could hope for was an extension, which would leave this issue hanging over me throughout my trip. I knew that while my paperwork was wrong, I did not owe any taxes. Still, based on my past experience, I did not relish proving that to the IRS.

When an agent came on the call, she asked me a few questions to get to the appropriate case materials, and then asked how she could help. I reviewed with her the instructions on the material the IRS sent me to ensure I understood them correctly. I mentioned that I noticed I had not properly filed the forms, due to an error in my TurboTax worksheet, so I understood why the IRS was looking for a payment.  The agent was silent. I mentioned my documentation was not readily available, but I could retrieve it next month. I said I could quickly file the forms, showing the loss I incurred.  The agent interrupted me at this point, “you took a loss on the sale? How much?” I replied with the sum, and she said, “oh, ok, well let me check this.” She paused for a moment, then returned with “I just took care of it. You will receive a notification that this action is cancelled within a week.” Now it was my turn to be silent. I probably should have said “thanks and good-bye,” but I stammered out “you don’t need any documentation?” She said no, and I relayed that this was most unexpected, but welcome. She laughed, and asked if there was anything else I needed. Pressing my luck, I told her “I bet you don’t hear this very often, but this phone call was the best interaction I could ever imagine with the federal government.” She laughed again, and said, “no, not very often.”

As she promised, the next week I received an official notification from the IRS informing me that the matter was now closed, and I owed them nothing. Judy attributes the near-miraculous outcome to her prayers to the Blessed Virgin; I would be hard pressed to disagree, since I invoked Our Lady of Guadalupe several times myself. On a practical note, American expats still owe federal taxes on all income, and are still liable to the long arm of the US federal government. If you plan to live outside the US, you need to establish a legal domicile in the States, you need a way to receive mail and official notifications, and you need to keep all the same tax records as if you were still in the States.

So you decide to move to Mexico for the healthy living, but you know that it requires more than exercise, good eating habits, moderation in drink, and adequate rest. It requires good preventive medical care, and if needed, good emergency care. We have been here a few months, so it was time to get started on picking a doctor, dentist, etc.

So the first thing we needed to find was a dentist. We heard good things from other expats about Doctora Candy Ugalde who has a small practice in our town…yes, I know, a dentist named Candy. Anyway, we made an appointment about a week out, and went in for an exam and cleaning. The office was clean with all the usual modern equipment, the staff bilingual and very friendly. We were seen on-time, and the visit lasted about 30 minutes. We did not receive any pressure to get x-rays or

whitening. My dentist, Juan, is Candy’s brother, and he said I will eventually need to get an x-ray, but no rush; when I asked about a whitening, he told me about a discount they are offering, but that was it. Total cost for exam and cleaning for two people: 600 pesos (a little over $30 US dollars).  You can see why some expats bring their grandchildren down for dental (orthodontia) tourism. Overall experience: very good.

Before I get to medical care, first I need to explain something about our health care situation that makes us different from the typical expat. Based on my federal service, we have excellent health insurance, based on the US Foreign Service Benefit Plan.  It is one of the thousand or so insurance programs offered by the US government to its employees, and it continues to cover us in retirement.  This program was initially developed to support US foreign service personnel stationed overseas. As such, it is very familiar in dealing with foreign languages, foreign currencies, and working with customers anywhere in the world. When overseas, the program works on a reimbursement basis (100% for preventive, emergency, and inpatient services, 90% for office visits, surgery, and outpatient services), with all doctors and healthcare providers outside the US considered “in-network.”  Deductible of $300 USD each per year. So while we are responsible for paying upfront for care, our health insurance is set up to immediately reimburse us via electronic document submission and direct deposit.

We decided we needed emergency coverage when we are travelling around Mexico, or around the world. Our Foreign Service Plan continues to cover us in these instances, but we wanted coverage that would give us the option to be medically evacuated at our own request (this last phrase is important). Most insurance, even emergency travel insurance, only approves medical evacuation when it is medically necessary, which is a decision of the doctor and the insurer, not you.  We wanted a service which left that decision up to us. We signed up with SkyMed, which specializes in coverage for expats, covers our medical stabilization onsite in the event of a medical emergency, and leaves the decision to evacuate up to us. Many expats here in Mexico sign up for such coverage, so that in the event of a very serious condition, they can be evacuated back to the States to get care.  Here’s where we differ: we got this coverage so we can be brought back to (drum roll) Guadalajara.  We feel the care here in Mexico is so good, this is to where we would want to be evacuated, if we got sick or hurt out traveling in the wider world.

For our family doctor, we chose Doctora Lupita at Integrity Medical Clinic. We had some false starts here. First, we made an appointment one day for the next morning, arrived, and found no record of the phone call or appointment we made the day before. The office called to postpone our second appointment, because the Doctora was having emergency dental surgery (ouch). When we were finally seen, we each had a nice office call with the Doctora, who ordered a standard suite of blood tests. We had these done at the lab across the street, and got the results by e-mail later the same day. Costs were 400 MXP each for the office visits, and a total of 2500 MXP for the lab work, or a total of approximately $230 USD for both of us.

We scheduled to meet back with Dra. Lupita to review our results, and here is where things got interesting, as they say. Judy’s review went perfect, with all normal results across the board.  I knew I had a few lab results which were out of the normal ranges, but the trouble started as soon as the nurse came to take my vitals. She took my blood pressure/pulse four times, using two different machines. Any time the nurse asks you “are you having chest pain?” that is NOT a good sign. Then she asked the Doctora to come in and do it again. I felt fine: thirsty, as I had salty foods for both breakfast and lunch, and I had worked out at the gym for 90 minutes before lunch, but otherwise great.

The Doctora said my pulse was racing (over 100 bpm), and she wanted to do a ECG right there and then. They brought the cart in and hooked me up; a few minutes later, she shared my results, indicating left ventricular distress, possible a blockage. She said she wanted me to see the cardiologist in her clinic on Wednesday (two days hence) for another ECG and consult. Oh, and the lab results said I probably had a gallstone; her ultrasound could not confirm it, since I had just eaten lunch, so she wanted me to fast on Wednesday and she would have a surgeon follow up on that, too.

To say I was shocked would be a severe understatement; in shock would probably be spot on! Those who know me know I was a lifelong, daily runner, in very good shape, and rarely had so much as a headache. Since we arrived in Mexico, I even lost a few pounds, took up an every-other-day weightlifting/stretching/stationary bike routine and hiked once a week up the mountains. I never felt better. I just could not square the results staring me in the face with how I felt. I had 48 hours to kill until the cardiologist visit, so I dug up my old records and took to the internet.

First I learned that gallstones and even a ventricular irregularity could be asymptomatic; meaning feeling fine was not out of the ordinary. Gallstones, although painful, looked like the lesser concern: some never end up causing pain, and surgery to remove the gallbladder is practically routine. So I decided to focus on my heart’s ECG results. Amazing what you can find on the internet: full descriptions of how to read one and what it means in laymen’s terms.

Probably the most interesting thing I learned was that an irregular ECG could result from environmental conditions, such as an electrolyte imbalance.  I noticed after I returned home from the Doctora’s office that I was very dehydrated, and Doctora Lupita mentioned that some newcomers have poor ECG results due to their heart’s difficulty in acclimatizing to the elevation here (5200 feet). I hung my hopes on this slender reed and  prepared to see the cardiologist and surgeon on Wednesday.

To Be Continued…

 

So yesterday, Judy and I went from “in-process” to owners of genuine Mexican government-issued visas, aka green cards. We were notified by Francisco, who we retained to shepherd us through the immigration process, that our cards were ready for pick up. We dutifully headed to the nondescript INM office in nearby Chapala and joined a gaggle of expats queuing up out front before the 9:00 opening time.

When the office opened, we all shuffled in; we were #16/17 in line. The queue was established by writing your name in a giant notebook at the front of the small office, which looked like every other bureaucracy waiting room in the world. Queue discipline was enforced by a stern-looking gentleman in a guard uniform who called out the names one at a time, kept a stray dog from entering the building, controlled the remote for the waiting room TV (we watched “Hoy!”…you guessed it, “Today!”), and occasionally shouted “Silencio!” when the crowd got too rowdy. We were out in under an hour, after signing for receipt of our cards in another giant notebook. The women who processed our applications did have and use a computer terminal on the counter, but the queue process and receipt were pure analog.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I applied for a residente temporal visa and Judy for a residente permanente visa.  Let’s start with the latter. As the title “permanente” implies, Judy has permanent status in Mexico as a resident alien. She never has to apply for, pay for, or further adjust her status in Mexico (unless they change their laws, but in general, when they do, they grandfather your existing residency status).  She can freely leave and return to Mexico as often as she likes, and whenever she crosses its borders she uses the same lanes that Mexican citizens use.  She cannot vote in Mexico, and she remains a United States citizen. She cannot engage in Mexican political activity (a big no-no), although she could remain politically-active in US politics (but why would she?). She could work in Mexico (but why would she?). She can get a Mexican driver’s license (in addition to her US/Ohio license), buy/sell property, own and register a Mexican car, and buy/keep a (single) gun (but why would she?). One note: as a permanente, she cannot drive a foreign-plated (i.e., US) car in Mexico, so my FJ is off-limits.

I applied for the residente temporal, which has mostly the same privileges and restrictions, except it is only good for a set duration (annual up to four years) and has to be renewed.  I have a one-year visa. One advantage of the temporal is it has lower income/resource requirements (i.e., you have to show you will not be a drag on the Mexican economy if you apply for a temporal or permanente, but the latter has higher minimums). The application costs almost as much as a permanente, but the permanente is a one-time cost, while the temporal is recurring. Probably the biggest single difference is since a temporal visa holder is theoretically only visiting Mexico, the temporal can own/drive a foreign-plated car while in the country. This was the main reason driving us (pun intended) to choose the mixed visa route: I could load/drive down the FJ and take it back to the States later for sale.  I cannot sell the FJ in Mexico: but why would I, as the resale market for FJs is pretty hot back in the States.

So with our newly-minted green cards, we’ll next undertake our single largest purchase since arriving in Mexico: a new car.  I will update y’all on how that compares to the “thrill” of car-buying in the States in a future post.

We woke up quite refreshed from our first day’s drive in Mexico and feeling pretty good about ourselves.  Yes, we only had intermittent Waze access, but Google maps seemed to work ok and coincided with the written instructions we had from other expats, and the drive was uneventful.  We had a great breakfast at the hotel, and only about six hours of driving to “home”…or so we thought.

Leaving Matehuala, all we had to do we re-enter the highway, drive south by southwest around the towns of San Luis Potosi and Lagos de Moreno, and we would soon be on the Macrolibramento (Outer Beltway) around Guadalajara and home to Ajijic. Since the previous day went so well, I let my guard down and as we approached the first bypass for San Luis Potosi, where we had to make a decision.  Google maps showed us going around to the north, but our written instructions were very clear: take the southern bypass labelled “Guadalajara.”  We came upon the exit at speed (about 80 kmh) and I said to my navigator (Judy), “I’m going with the digital directions; at least they are ‘live.'” With that we headed along the northern route. I thought about the line from the Steely Dan song “My Old School,” “Ohhh, no, Guadalajara won’t do!”

At first, we seemed to be on another bypass, and I thought, “hey that worked out well.”  But next we were on an a I-395-like highway right through the middle of SLP.  Still not too bad, and we cleared the city with only about 30 extra minutes of drive time.  Then we found the road changing from an divided highway down to a four lane local street and

finally a two lane country road. Better still, one side of the road was a cliff straight up, and the other (our side) a cliff straight down.  The Mexicans say “Vaya Con Dios” or “Go with God,” and they mean it, because there was no shoulder and no guardrail.  Even my dog stood up in his tiny back seat space and began to pant in my ear.

The road swerved along a series of ridges for 30 kilometers or so; in many places the switchbacks were so severe you were headed back in the opposite direction every hundred meters. We survived it and breathed a sigh of relief when we finally rejoined the Cuota (toll road) to which the other bypass lead. Now we were an hour behind schedule.

I committed to following the written instructions, and luckily Waze began working and confirmed our choices. We made it around Lagos de Moreno and headed onto a Carretera (main highway) toward Guadalajara.  We had about 150 kilometers of high desert plateau to drive through, straight as an arrow and no towns, so it seemed like we could set the cruise control and “go.”  But we had another Mexican moment coming: all of a sudden, all the traffic on our side of the four lane, divided highway was collapsing into the single, left lane.  Up ahead, we came upon a car with flashing emergency lights driving slowly in the right lane, and then we passed a group of bicyclists following a flatbed truck with a religious shrine to the Virgin Mary on display in the back.

Seems today was the day of a bicycle pilgrimage south of Lagos de Moreno, and every mile or so for the next hour, we passed another set of pilgrims gamely riding bicycles up and down the same mountain road we were driving. Only in Mexico.

This too passed and we were finally approaching Guadalajara’s outer beltway, which is a toll road and still under construction. We started down our exit and came to a small toll booth. As we pulled up, I asked the young lady “Cuando?” (how much) but she responded with a “no” and a stream of Espanol that immediately exceeded my limited capabilities.  So we sat there at the exit, with a restraining arm between us and the road home, and looked at one another and thought, “what now?” Judy asked if the the girl spoke English, but no, she didn’t.  Luckily, no one was behind us, but we were stuck.  The girl spoke again, and Judy heard “Chapala” and correctly guessed she was asking us where we were going.  We cheerily shouted “Lake Chapala” and like a magic password, she raised the arm and let us through. Why does the Mexican government pay to have someone asking people where they are going on a limited access, toll road?  Quien sabe?!

We left the toll road, drove up the pass over Sierra San Juan Cosala and arrived at our house, 90 minutes behind schedule. Bu then again, what’s a schedule? “Schedule, we don’t need no stinking schedule.”