Year End Kindness

Gratitude.  It’s probably the defining word of my time in Mexico thus far and a fitting theme for my last blog post of the year.  I say it all the time because I really mean it: the people of Mexico are incredibly generous, patient and welcoming.  People love to stop me on the street and ask where I'm from and what I'm doing here and they always say how happy they are to have me here (usually while asking if I have a boyfriend - this includes the police who stopped me on the street this week to practice their english).  

My heart is perpetually full from the kindness bestowed upon me by friends and strangers alike, and you really need to hear about how giving my office has been this past month.  But first, let’s talk Christmas decorations, because you also need to hear about how popular Precious Moments-themed Christmas decorations are in Mexico!  Ceramic figurines, giant paperboard cutouts...you name it.  

Precious Moments overload. 

Word on the street is that Christmas is focused strongly on the religious element here vs. extravagant gift-giving, and I have noticed that decorations are centered on nativity images vs. Santa Claus.  Our office has a small plastic tree that we decorated together, and I’ve seen small displays of lights and decorations around town, so – even though it’s still close to 80 degrees here in mid-December – Christmas is in the air.

  Street decorations in Querétaro. 

  Decorations in our town square. 

  My only Santa sighting thus far. 

  Local pharmacy. 

  Piñata in the grocery store. 

I'm pretty sure that's Olaf! 

Christmas in Costco.  

Nativity scene in the main plaza (minus baby Jesus).  

Now back to kindness: I’ve never experienced this level of generosity in my life and my heart is often bursting with the sensation of love and gratitude.  I have to admit that it's been a challenge to accept that kindness at times.  I'm pretty sure the last time I was this dependent upon other people I was still wearing diapers, and it’s a strange feeling (being dependent on others - not wearing diapers; I don't have any memory of how that feels).  

As a fiercely independent woman, it's frustrating to know that I can’t take care of everything myself, and to constantly need help.  I know I can't carry a refrigerator by myself, but I really wish I could.  My goal for 2017 is to not have to ask for nearly as much help from others, but there's comfort in knowing that if I need it, I'm probably gonna get it.  Allow me share with you some of the outstanding examples of kindnesses bestowed upon me by my officemates this month (because it's been a mother load).

That's Martin to my left - my bringer of coffee, connector of gas and installer of lightbulbs. 

• Carlos, an intern in my office, helped me get my new apartment by asking around, calling at night to tell me he found something, and then going with me to meet the landlord and view the apartment. 
• When I said I needed to buy a bed and move it into my new house, everyone offered to help.  My coworkers Noe and Israel helped me move both a bed and a couch into my second-floor apartment, and just waved their hands and said “that makes no difference” when I said there were stairs.  They then proceeded to carry the heavy sofa on their backs and their heads with what can only be described as herculean strength.  I said thank you over and over again, and bought them cheese, but they just said “this is what we do in our community.”  I tried to explain to them that getting people to willingly help me move a sofa bed up a flight of stairs in the middle of the work day just wasn’t common in my previous life.  Afterwards Noe took us to his house for a chicken, rice, pasta salad and chocolate beer lunch so my cup literally runneth over. 

  That's Israel underneath the sofa. 

   My beloved new sofa bed (ready for visitors).

   Isreal (in plaid) has been more than gracious in helping with literally anything I need. 

Noe - he carries furniture and regularly supplies me with delicious food and drink. 

• My office helped me get several things for my new home, including a bed and a gas tank, which I could not have gotten on my own for another month or more.  My co-worker Alma also called the phone and internet company on my behalf to help me place an order for a phone line and internet at my new house.  I can usually communicate with people a-ok here, but on the phone, setting up a new account?  Forget about it.  Alma’s help saved me a lot of time and frustration.

Setting up our tree: Cindy, Alma, Fabricio and me. 

• Israel and Martin connected my gas tank, got the boiler up and running, figured out how to get the old stove in my kitchen working, and then installed light bulbs in fixtures that were too high for me to reach. Hot water, a working stove and light in one night? I was literally jumping up and down while squealing.
• Gustavo, a student in our English class, helped me move all my suitcases to my new home, which was a pretty nice gesture from a 16-year old boy, and cut my move time in half.  
• My fellow-volunteer Cindy offered me her toolbox and the height and skill set of her husband who recently came to visit.  He drilled screws in my walls to hang all of my art (and even checked it with a level afterwards) and installed one more lightbulb for me.  Cindy has been extremely generous in all other facets of life as well, and her husband has brought me many much-needed items from the US during his visits, for which I really can’t say thank you enough.

Two of my helpers: Carlos and Gustavo. 

 Me and Carlos; people often ask Cindy and I why all Americans wear Teva-type sandals. It's a defining characteristic for our people here. 

The week ended with a delicious dinner provided by our English class students in appreciation of our weekly classes.  They made fresh gorditas on our office patio and gave us chocolates and cookies.  It was a very generous and thoughtful gesture, especially for someone like me who only gets dinner cooked for her a few times each year.  

 With Luz, an English class student. 

 Sonia and Yeya preparing delicious gorditas. 

Enjoying our tasty gorditas (with Cindy's husband too!).  

It's been a really good 2016 in Mexico.  Sometimes things here take a lot longer to accomplish than in the US, but I like to think I'm learning how to be more patient (I'm not sure that's true, but I like to think that).  For example, I made the call to get my internet set up as soon as possible because I knew it could take a month or more to actually get installed.  And chances are that I’ll need to track down the local guy who does installations on the street to get a firm date and time established, but I have faith that it will eventually happen.

Just like I have faith that at the end of two years I'll be able to talk to you more fluently in Spanish and tell you about some good things I did for work.  For now, I can say with certainty that Mexico is a warm, loving and welcoming country.  It’s hard to fully describe how generous the people are here but I hope that you at least have an inkling of the kindness and warmth that's waiting for you here  (especially in my Pueblo Mágico).  We'd love to have you anytime!

Holiday display at a local restaurant. 

Moving On Up

I have a reputation for moving frequently and filling up the pages of people's address books.  Since 2000, I've lived in 13 different homes in 3 different states.  Here in Mexico, I've lived in 3 different homes in 9 months, and now I'm going to move again.  I’ve enjoyed living in a traditional Mexican house with tall ceilings, a lovely back patio, traditional floor tiles and ample space.  And the newly remodeled bathroom in my bedroom was the best.  On the downside, there were large gaps between the walls and windows, the brick roof was held up by wooden boards with visible sagging (and at times chunks of cement falling to the floor), there were animals living in the ceiling in my bedroom, everytime it rained my living room flooded a little bit, there were termites (which recently returned after a fumigation), the cockroaches were relenteless, and there was a lot of noise on the street outside.  I'm pretty sure I heard someone peeing outside my bedroom window this week, but we can pretend they were just pouring water out of a bottle at 11:30 PM.  

  My sagging, boarded ceiling  

 My beloved modern bathroom (and cushy bathmat).

 Bathroom ventilation tube; there's a mesh screen on the outside to keep animals out but - as you might imagine - I was always ready for anything to come flying out.

 This is what termite damage looks like on a door. 

My door was lovely but had some gaps on the sides and the bottom (which a mouse recently slipped under as I shrieked). 

The house came furnished with 2 beds, 2 dressers, a mini fridge (which had to be defrosted every week), a dining table and chairs, a stove top and some plastic lounge chairs.  The plastic chairs were eventually replaced with a traditional Mexican couch, called an equipale.  The first night it was in the house I laid down to enjoy some comfy reading after a 6-month couch drought.  About 30 minutes in I felt something drop on my head.  I jumped up frantically, shaking my hair and looked up to see 2 cockroaches on the ceiling above me.  I’d like to think that it was a piece of ceiling that fell on my head and not cockroach poo, but I was never able to sit on that couch again without some apprehension. 

 Traditional Mexican sofa. Site of a cockroach "incident."

 I never got the chance to use that fireplace, although that's probably for the best. Chances are something was living in there. 

  My stove and essential lighting tool. 

  I was recently upgraded from a mini fridge to a taller, used fridge which drips a lot of water inside.

 Dish storage; everything is upside down to reduce cockroach contamination.

My new apartment is on the second floor of a 2-story building and the ceilings are a normal height with no visible wood for termites, and no cracks or gaps that would allow the elements or critters to enter.  As soon as I walked in, I felt my shoulders lower as I thought “Ok, I could live here without fear of anything coming out of the ceiling or walls, and not wake up to the sound of the local mechanic working on cars immediately outside my bedroom window every morning.”  The building is set back off the street, has lots of great light, 2-bedrooms with built in closets, kitchen cabinets and shelves with doors, white tile floors, 2 sinks in the kitchen, a lovely modern bathroom and a private balcony.  Most importantly, it costs half as much as my current house and should provide more opportunities to meet people.  My current landlord was not happy to hear that I would be leaving, but ni modo.  Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. 

  Bright and modern apartment.

  I love all the windows (and the existing curtain rods).

  What? Doors on kitchen cabinets. Fancy!

Lush bedroom view.

Built-in closets with ample storage.

  This is a ceiling I can handle! No termites and a lovely traditional style. 

 View from the patio.

It is an unfurnished apartment which means that I will have to purchase the following:

• A refrigerator
• A stove (rented - with a real oven! What? Oh yeah, I'm fancy!)
• A gas tank to connect to the hot water tank
• Lightbulbs (the last renter took almost all of them with her)
• A mirror for the bathroom (I never thought I'd have to buy that)
• A bed and all that other normal furniture you would need

I have a friend coming to visit the week I move in so priority #1 is getting a bed and hot water running in the house.  A coworker said I could borrow a mini-fridge for awhile, and the stove I'm renting from the building manager should arrive soon, so all I need now is 2 plastic chairs (or dare I dream, a couch) and voila - it's practically a castle.  No doubt it will take me awhile to get setup in my new home, and it may be fairly barebones in the furniture department, but I've got a bunch of art to make it feel all homey.  So fear not, visitors are still welcome!  And fingers crossed this is it for the next 18 months - no more moving for me, por favor. 

The Laundromat

Once a week I make the 6-block trek to my local laundromat carrying my dirty clothes in a clear plastic bag.  I’ve got a system for how I put my dirty clothes in there to keep my undergarments discreetly tucked away, as I’ve run into people I know on that walk more than once.  I also don’t want to be that weird lady from the US who walks around town with her underwear on display.  On my way to pick up my clothes this week I saw a truck parked outside of my office with a goat and 3 (human) kids rolling with laughter, followed by a dog wearing a human shirt walking down the street. Later that night I saw a woman pouring ketchup on her Hawaiian pizza, so – as you can see – laundry day is often full of excitement.  

 Outdoor clothes washing area. 

Typical indoor clothes washing area. 

My outdoor clothes washing area. The right sink has no drain; the one on the left is "ribbed" for washing. Those plastic bottles contain cleaning products.

I feel a special connection with the woman who runs the laundromat because I once spent 30 minutes with her during a torrential storm when her breakers blew, water started seeping into the building, and we huddled together in the dark.  We always engage in friendly banter about the weather, her work, how I like our town, etc.  I try to arrive at the laundromat as soon as they open to make sure my super soft sheets are laundered in time for bed.  I learned that time the hard way as I once arrived too early and had to sit on the sidewalk for 20 minutes, trying to look nonchalant as every passerby told me they opened at 9:00. 

My name is hard to pronounce and to spell, so the laundry woman always gives me the ticket to fill out myself, and then we have a conversation about what time I’ll be back for my clothes (~ 8 hours later).  Roughly half of the time when I arrive to pick up my clothes, they’re not yet bagged.  It’s not really a problem for me because – and, I know this may shock you – I’m not ever rushing off to do something else.  The first time my clothes weren’t ready, they were just coming out of the dryer.  Rather than sit there and watch two nice Mexican women fold my underwear, I asked if I could help.  They said sure, so now I always fold my clothes with them.  It’s a little gift when I get to help them with the folding as I miss doing my own laundry.  I love that smell and feel of warm clothes.  I love the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction from completing a chore and having everything neatly folded and put away.  And most importantly, I love sleeping on clean sheets. 

Sampling of views on the walk home from the laundromat. 

I usually just talk to the boss, but this week she was running around between big dryers, so as I folded my laundry with the other woman I said "Cómo estás?"  She didn’t appear to register that I said anything, so I folded in silence.  When the boss returned she told me that the other woman didn’t talk.  I said “Ok, then I won’t ask you any questions” real friendly like and everyone smiled.  I didn't want to be rude and ask more questions but I keep thinking about her: can she hear? can she physically not talk or does she choose not to? does she like working in the laundromat?  what’s her story?

I’m participating in an initiative to capture photos and stories of the people in Mexico, similar to the Humans of New York Facebook page.  I’ve been interviewing people I work with and I think I need to interview the head laundry lady as well.  It’s fascinating to learn about other people’s lives and it’s really surprising to hear what they share.  I'm not saying you should fake interview people, but should you find yourself next to a friendly stranger, don't be afraid to talk to them.  However, I would be leery around cows with horns.  Everyone told me the 2 cows below were friendly but that is not the vibe I got as they were racing towards and cow-yelling at me when the gate was open.  I didn't even say anything about the one cow's obvious toupee, but it clearly did not like me.  Whatever cow.  If I could interview you, I totally would, because you clearly have things to get off your chest. 

 No interviews needed here - I knew exactly what this cow was thinking as it raced for the gate when we opened it to walk through. 

These cows, however, had a true air of mystery.