Yaqui Dancers and Las Vegas
In the midst of their “training” to be men, Yaqui Indian boys go on a 40 day ordeal where some portion of that training involves dancing. If you ever pull up to a signal light or a toll booth and there is a masked youth with feathers, shakers and clearly dressed in Indian garb, then you have come across something special. They dance for you. It is not just any dance and I will not try to describe it as I can serve it no justice with words. But the experience moves you. I always breakout the pesos for these men in training! They live in the desert and must come to the city as part of their experience.
You will also find other performers hawking for your money in various locations and these are clearly NOT Yaqui Indians. There is the fire breather who does an act with a flaming baton, twirling and tossing it high into the air and of course the coup de gra, blowing the flame from his mouth, all during the course of one red light cycle. Nothing like a mouthful of kerosene for that gingivitis. How they do this in the middle of the summer in the intense heat is a testament to the human will to earn money or is it simply a death wish?
My favorite street performers are a family of 3. The husband (on trumpet), the wife (manager with baby in sling) to collect money, and the son age 3 or 4 and no taller than a garbage can, on drums. The songs I have heard them play (and there is not much you can catch during the length of a stop light) is what the Aussies would call “a ripper” The little boy rails with a driving rhythm and dad lays down the "color" on the trumpet. While this is no Louie Armstrong and Buddy Rich, it is a family that clearly has its eye on Vegas.
Cleaning Happens
My perception of reality was again turned upside down as I pondered the day by day activities in the neighborhood here in the city. You would think by hearing how many friends and family in the U.S. have employed Mexican help in their households as cleaning people that there must be millions of Mexicans working in the U.S. to cover this task and that is probably right.. Upon thinking a little deeper on the topic you might assume that like rocket scientists, there is a finite amount of cleaning people from Mexico to go around and by now there must be none left in Mexico. After all, many of our friends here in Mexico also have cleaning people working at their homes as well. In fact if you drive around the city you will notice that the place is teeming with people cleaning various things. If you venture down to the zocala you will find scores of people waving towels as you drive around the square, urging you to park your car in their area so you can have your car cleaned. There are always people sweeping and mopping all over the city. I am really beginning to think they are all sweeping the same pile of trash. They just keep passing it around the city tag team style.
When the grass pops up between the cracks in our sidewalk in front of our house, we don’t bother to pick up the phone and call someone to clean it up. We don’t even bother to think about cleaning it up ourselves. Why you might ask? We know that it is only a matter of days until our doorbell will ring with someone eager to take that grass out. We had someone come by just a few days ago for that very reason. We agreed on a price $50.00 pesos ($4.21). This particular worker put in a good 2 hours work and when he was finished he rang the bell for his payment. We noted that the walkway was not swept and queried the man who replied, “I don’t sweep walkways, get your housekeeper to sweep it.” Were we witnessing an evolution in the field of sanitation or possibly the emergence of a new division of labor in the Mexican economy? Time will tell. What did happen was that the man left the walk un-swept (he will not be hired in the future), but within hours our doorbell rang again with a women who noted our unkept walkway and offered to sweep it so she could afford to buy much needed medicine for her child.
What has upended my reality in this case is that the Mexicans cleaning houses in the U.S. are simply the overflow of cleaning people in Mexico that have spilled over the border. Mexico is so overstocked with cleaning people that the pressure of all those people (simple physics here) has pushed them northward into Arizona, California, Texas and beyond (some have been found as far away as Canada) Imagine that! 2 illegal border crossings.
I’m thinking all the good cleaning people have stayed in Mexico to be close to family and friends, but if that is true then why does it seem that the whole country is strewn with garbage? Everywhere you go; garbage. It came to my attention when we recently spent a weekend at a beautiful beach near-by. I noticed all the groups of Mexicans with family and friends that had come to be at the beach that day and when they had left, they had also left all their garbage right on the beautiful beach. I mentioned this to our host who surprisingly commented that every morning the Americans who own houses on the beach clean up all the garbage left by the Mexicans! As our host was saying these words I could feel the neurological pathways in my brain twitching and clicking as the sound of new neural pathways like floodgates poured open. The irony and symmetry of it all was too perfect. Americans hiring Mexicans to clean their houses in the U.S. and Mexicans selling beach front property to Americans to clean up their beaches. There is a deeper intelligence at work here. Let’s pay attention!
The Bicycle
In our town you will not find anything resembling a bicycle path. No special lanes with silhouettes of people biking painted on the street, no signage telling you where the path meanders through town. In fact you would be hard pressed to find anyone willing to take the risk of riding a bike. Just recently I noticed the first intersections painted with yellow lines to indicate pedestrian cross walks. Drivers here in Hermosillo are still trying to come to grips with what these painted lines actually mean. You see, under normal circumstances, pedestrians are fair game. I have noticed while crossing busy streets that cars actually speed up as they approach pedestrians. It is my assertion that these new clearly marked crosswalks could well be interpreted by the average driver as an area you would be more likely to find pedestrians for sport.
Once you are out of the city and traveling on the intercity 4 lane high speed divided highway, you are more likely to find bicycle riders. As a rule, the roads on these highways do not have shoulders. What you get are 2 lanes in your direction. If you need to stop for any reason there is no place to put your car. Bicycle riders have overcome this problem in their own unique way. They simply ride their bike into oncoming traffic, usually in the left lane. Many of these people on bikes have them all stacked up with firewood making the experience for someone driving a car that much more profound. I see this often as I drive the 3 hours between Hermosillo and Nogales almost once a month (and never again at night). I think this practice is a form of population control, or a proving out of Darwin’s theory relative to survival of the fittest.
Putting out the “Garbage”
When I arrived in Hermosillo I had 2 garbage pails with wheels and covers. They were nice. Our garbage gets picked up on Tuesdays and Fridays in the early morning. As an average American, I was used to putting out the garbage in the evening so I did not have to crawl out of bed at 6 am to beat the truck the next morning. After being here several months, one evening around 5 pm I put out a garbage pail and at 5:30 pm I noticed the pail was missing, garbage and all. Also of note here in town, if you want to get rid of anything (and I mean anything) all one need do is put it out on the sidewalk overnight. Just about anything and everything will disappear (including garbage and the pail). Who needs special pickup!
The Volkswagen Beetle
No one living in the United States would give this thought a moment of consideration, but after spending any length of time in Mexico you will notice the Volkswagen, the Peoples Car. There are many of them and they are everywhere. I have even seen them used as taxi cabs …… imagine that! God forbid you have luggage. The thought I am referring to is the thought of where do discontinued early model cars go when they die? If you live in North America I can assure you that one place they go is Mexico. Maybe they come here for the weather, or possibly the amazing highway system (I kid, I kid), but whatever the reason, the fact is that if you happen to be looking for parts for a 1932 Volkswagen, I know where you can find gobs of them. The Volkswagen thrives in Mexico, and they are kept alive in many ingenious ways (duct tape was invented here).
Their usefulness is expanded to move beyond mere passenger vehicles; in fact down here they also can be outfitted to function as a pickup truck. I kid you not. I was passed one day on the highway by a “Volkswagen” with the following “upgrades”. At each bumper of the car was an iron pole soaring vertically to the height of the roof of the car. On the top of the car, attached to the vertical poles was a very tall iron roof rack, the sides of which extended another 4-5 feet above the height of the car. Close your eyes and picture this. There was more volume of space in the roof rack than in the entire car. I do not know what the owner of this “stock” car might have used the rack for, but what I do know is the engine in a Volkswagen is a 2 cylinder, air cooled, rear engine, manual transmission. With a full tank of gas and 3 people in the car you would be hard pressed to attain 40 mph downhill. In any case, the Peoples Car thrives here, all model years are available going back to inception.
As an aside, a little know fact is that during Apollo moon missions, it slipped out that the space capsule was no larger than a Volkswagen and to give you a feel for what the astronauts had to endure, image spending 3 days in a Volkswagen with 3 people in it where you ate, slept, pooped etc, which after arriving at the moon, you had 3 more days on the return journey to look forward to. Once news of this got back to Mexico, sales of Volkswagens soared. It was in fact the reason why Volkswagens became so popular here. Mexicans began sleeping and eating and even living in their Volkswagens with families of 8 or more once it was obvious you could go to the moon in one. A small slice of Mexican pride also had it in for those gabachos, wanting to one up them by showing NASA that Mexicans were training for the Mars mission years in advance!
About Me
- Don Celestino
- "Through listening, nurturing and reflection, I catalyze the world, and people, to manifest their highest vision."
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Bits and Pieces from Mexico Part II
Free Enterprise the old fashioned way.
If you are alert and have a great idea, especially for a restaurant, then the thing to do (if you are in Mexico) is to stake out a corner or empty lot in the city (like a mining claim only with squatters rights) and open an outdoor culinary gathering place otherwise known as a restaurant. All you really need to get started is a concept (what type of food), the means to prepare it (camp stove, grill, food cart, propane, wood a few plastic chairs) and your own abandoned lot. I would say most of the restaurants in Hermosillo are open air establishments (or started as one) and each one (like the house building concept previously described) in varying states of development. Some are full blown, covered structures with seating for 50 or more, while others are little more than hot dog stands with food serviced from a cart. You may or may not have a seat to enjoy your meal or even plastic ware to eat your food with, until the “restaurant” makes the next improvement on their business plan. Don’t get me wrong here, that hot dog stand I mentioned does not open until after 9 pm and does not close until 3 am, and my personal observation (and reports from long time residents) indicates that there is always a line of people for these hot dogs.
There is a restaurant across the street from where we live. The seating area is where the garage for the home was. The kitchen is not in the house (hey everyone needs a place to live, right?) but is under a tarp in the backyard. It is a full service kitchen with a large gas grill, numerous propane stoves, several soft drink coolers and a line of people to get in. The food is ridiculously inexpensive, a hearty meal under $5.00, and very good home cooked food.
The last restaurant example is one that we just discovered this past weekend while out by the beach. After driving 3 or 4 miles off the main road to the beach headed to Kino Bay, we came to an area of estuaries. Along this road we made a turn off into an area that had no less than 3 “restaurants” huddled together. Located literally on the banks of the estuary, with dirt floors and covered by awnings, open aired and by health department standards in the U.S. would never see the light of one day in business, we had the freshest and most delicious and the most inexpensive meal I have had to date in Mexico. In the estuary was a genuine oyster, and clam farm stretching over acres of water. For years I have avoided eating oysters due to declining water standards in the U.S., but as I looked out over the pristine waters near Kino bay I could not help but notice that the oysters I would be eating were literally coming directly out of the water and onto my plate. A bakers dozen of oysters cost $50.00 pesos or $4.17 before tip. Each restaurant was full of local Mexicans (I was clearly the only American and maybe the first), there were local musicians and mariachi bands adding to the spirit of the event. The shrimp seviche was absolutely the best I have had so far in Mexico and all the while I was aware how this could never be in the U.S. (OK maybe Louisiana).
Service with a Whistle.
There is nothing I react to more than having my windshield cleaned by sneak attack. After growing up in N.Y. I noted on my early trips to Manhattan that upon entering the city through the midtown tunnel and stopping at the first stop light, that I was going to get my windshield cleaned whether I wanted it cleaned or not. I remember the first time having this experience in N.Y. and thinking, “Hey, this is a great city, they wash your windows when you get here!”. That was a momentary illusion that was quickly disolved when the rosterman finished cleaning my windows and demanded payment. From that day forward I had an attitude toward this particular form of “free” enterprise, the only problem as I saw it was that I was not free to choose whether I wanted my windows cleaned, more often than not I had to pay. Eventually, window washers like these were outlawed in Manhattan and that was very nice, a relief in fact. What I did not know was that all of those newly unemployed window washers from N.Y. headed on down to Hermosillo Mexico to set up shop. They are like kamikaze’s here. Most of the time you don’t see them coming. With their water bottle they can hit your windshield from a good 10 -15 feet so that you now have to have at least that bit cleaned off. I have had running battles with these guys. On some days you can get your windows cleaned 3 times on the way home from a movie! But wait, I digress here. What I really wanted to go on about are the self-employed parking lot attendants you will find all over the state of Sonora and beyond. Combing big box store parking lots, grocery stores and small shopping centers you will find the parking lot attendant. I liken them to the guys you might find in the rest room of well healed hotels or restaurants or upscale nightclubs, they hand you a towel to dry your hands after you have done your business there, and then you are required to give them a tip for their laborious efforts. The parking lot attendant in many cases is equipped with a whistle. He helps you find a parking spot (even if the lot is empty), will help you load your car with goods purchased (even a package of gum, no job too big, no job too small), and of course will help guide you free of your parking spot (yes, even in an empty lot). The whistle indicates the way is clear, and of course the attendant always positions himself in such a way that once you are free of your parking spot, you will be looking directly at him in one way or another for the unsolicited tip request. I will admit that there are occasions where the attendant is actually useful and even I have bolstered the local economy by tossing him a 5 peso coin, and in the end the service rendered is given without too much expectation on the part of the self-employed attendant, and they always give you the courtesy of offering you the opportunity of having a nice day. I have discovered that similar to the startup restaurant real estate “acquisitions” the parking lot attendant is not employed by the retailers in whose lot he operates. The various parking lots are “claimed” (and no doubt handed down from father to son).
Drive through Shopping
The Mexicans have truly innovated retailing and solving unemployment by allowing “drive through” shopping at every major intersection of the city. If the intersection has a stop light, it is also is likely to have some kind of retail opportunity. I call it drive through simply because in many instances as a sale is in the midst of completion (payment), the light will change and the traffic begins to move. Here is the training ground for Mexican salesman and the art of closing a sale. It gives a whole new understanding (and visual picture) of where the phase “letting one get away” comes from.
Unlike the retail experience at the border crossings between the U.S and Mexico, the items for sale in the city are often of high quality. For many months I avoided purchasing anything in the “intersection drive through” until one day I found out the produce, juices and nuts for sale come right from the farms that surround the city. You can see the type of produce offered change as the growing season unfolds. This week I am seeing lots of strawberries, asparagus and peaches, last week there were cantaloupes and throughout the season lots of watermelons. These guys hustle to make sales and the prices are negotiable.
A kilo of asparagus will run you $30.00 pesos ($2.50), a big bag of juicy peaches $40.00 pesos and a braid of fresh garlic 3 feet long will tap you for around $60.00 pesos. What's not to like?
There is also the "Drive-by" retail experience. Just like in the days of my youth when fresh milk was delivered right to the front door of my childhood home, here in Mexico we have numerous vendors each with their own mode of transportation as well as their own song. In the early mornings we have the "Bakery Bicycle". Equiped with a 360 degree fully visible plexiglas showcase attached to the handlebars, and a bell that clearly identifys him as the bakery bicycle, you have your choice of fresh made pastries while they last. I know at some point this vendor will figure out how to attach a latte machine to the bike, at which time I will know it is time to become an investor.
Not to be outdone, once or twice a year I have heard the distinctive whistle of the knife sharpener. His grinding wheel (and chair) resting on his shoulder he strolls the streets blowing his familiar "signature song". He will sit on your sidewalk and sharpen your knives and tell you stories of his 35 year career.
Another routine cart that rolls by regularly is the one with mops, brooms, dust pans and various other cleaning supplies (I am sure this guy must make a killing with all the cleaning people down here).
On overnight trips to San Carlos and the beach if you are up early enough in the morning you will likely catch the fish monger with his catches' of the day. His pickup truck is loaded with coolers which are in turn loaded with all types of fresh fish that once lived nearby in San Carlos Bay. They find themselves in the back of a pickup and brought to your door for prices I am sure they would feel are way too low.
In case you have not had enough of Bits and Pieces in Mexico, you can feel comforted by the fact that there is likely to be a Part III. When I started this blog topic I did not realize there could well be an endless supply of anecdotes.
If you are alert and have a great idea, especially for a restaurant, then the thing to do (if you are in Mexico) is to stake out a corner or empty lot in the city (like a mining claim only with squatters rights) and open an outdoor culinary gathering place otherwise known as a restaurant. All you really need to get started is a concept (what type of food), the means to prepare it (camp stove, grill, food cart, propane, wood a few plastic chairs) and your own abandoned lot. I would say most of the restaurants in Hermosillo are open air establishments (or started as one) and each one (like the house building concept previously described) in varying states of development. Some are full blown, covered structures with seating for 50 or more, while others are little more than hot dog stands with food serviced from a cart. You may or may not have a seat to enjoy your meal or even plastic ware to eat your food with, until the “restaurant” makes the next improvement on their business plan. Don’t get me wrong here, that hot dog stand I mentioned does not open until after 9 pm and does not close until 3 am, and my personal observation (and reports from long time residents) indicates that there is always a line of people for these hot dogs.
There is a restaurant across the street from where we live. The seating area is where the garage for the home was. The kitchen is not in the house (hey everyone needs a place to live, right?) but is under a tarp in the backyard. It is a full service kitchen with a large gas grill, numerous propane stoves, several soft drink coolers and a line of people to get in. The food is ridiculously inexpensive, a hearty meal under $5.00, and very good home cooked food.
The last restaurant example is one that we just discovered this past weekend while out by the beach. After driving 3 or 4 miles off the main road to the beach headed to Kino Bay, we came to an area of estuaries. Along this road we made a turn off into an area that had no less than 3 “restaurants” huddled together. Located literally on the banks of the estuary, with dirt floors and covered by awnings, open aired and by health department standards in the U.S. would never see the light of one day in business, we had the freshest and most delicious and the most inexpensive meal I have had to date in Mexico. In the estuary was a genuine oyster, and clam farm stretching over acres of water. For years I have avoided eating oysters due to declining water standards in the U.S., but as I looked out over the pristine waters near Kino bay I could not help but notice that the oysters I would be eating were literally coming directly out of the water and onto my plate. A bakers dozen of oysters cost $50.00 pesos or $4.17 before tip. Each restaurant was full of local Mexicans (I was clearly the only American and maybe the first), there were local musicians and mariachi bands adding to the spirit of the event. The shrimp seviche was absolutely the best I have had so far in Mexico and all the while I was aware how this could never be in the U.S. (OK maybe Louisiana).
Service with a Whistle.
There is nothing I react to more than having my windshield cleaned by sneak attack. After growing up in N.Y. I noted on my early trips to Manhattan that upon entering the city through the midtown tunnel and stopping at the first stop light, that I was going to get my windshield cleaned whether I wanted it cleaned or not. I remember the first time having this experience in N.Y. and thinking, “Hey, this is a great city, they wash your windows when you get here!”. That was a momentary illusion that was quickly disolved when the rosterman finished cleaning my windows and demanded payment. From that day forward I had an attitude toward this particular form of “free” enterprise, the only problem as I saw it was that I was not free to choose whether I wanted my windows cleaned, more often than not I had to pay. Eventually, window washers like these were outlawed in Manhattan and that was very nice, a relief in fact. What I did not know was that all of those newly unemployed window washers from N.Y. headed on down to Hermosillo Mexico to set up shop. They are like kamikaze’s here. Most of the time you don’t see them coming. With their water bottle they can hit your windshield from a good 10 -15 feet so that you now have to have at least that bit cleaned off. I have had running battles with these guys. On some days you can get your windows cleaned 3 times on the way home from a movie! But wait, I digress here. What I really wanted to go on about are the self-employed parking lot attendants you will find all over the state of Sonora and beyond. Combing big box store parking lots, grocery stores and small shopping centers you will find the parking lot attendant. I liken them to the guys you might find in the rest room of well healed hotels or restaurants or upscale nightclubs, they hand you a towel to dry your hands after you have done your business there, and then you are required to give them a tip for their laborious efforts. The parking lot attendant in many cases is equipped with a whistle. He helps you find a parking spot (even if the lot is empty), will help you load your car with goods purchased (even a package of gum, no job too big, no job too small), and of course will help guide you free of your parking spot (yes, even in an empty lot). The whistle indicates the way is clear, and of course the attendant always positions himself in such a way that once you are free of your parking spot, you will be looking directly at him in one way or another for the unsolicited tip request. I will admit that there are occasions where the attendant is actually useful and even I have bolstered the local economy by tossing him a 5 peso coin, and in the end the service rendered is given without too much expectation on the part of the self-employed attendant, and they always give you the courtesy of offering you the opportunity of having a nice day. I have discovered that similar to the startup restaurant real estate “acquisitions” the parking lot attendant is not employed by the retailers in whose lot he operates. The various parking lots are “claimed” (and no doubt handed down from father to son).
Drive through Shopping
The Mexicans have truly innovated retailing and solving unemployment by allowing “drive through” shopping at every major intersection of the city. If the intersection has a stop light, it is also is likely to have some kind of retail opportunity. I call it drive through simply because in many instances as a sale is in the midst of completion (payment), the light will change and the traffic begins to move. Here is the training ground for Mexican salesman and the art of closing a sale. It gives a whole new understanding (and visual picture) of where the phase “letting one get away” comes from.
Unlike the retail experience at the border crossings between the U.S and Mexico, the items for sale in the city are often of high quality. For many months I avoided purchasing anything in the “intersection drive through” until one day I found out the produce, juices and nuts for sale come right from the farms that surround the city. You can see the type of produce offered change as the growing season unfolds. This week I am seeing lots of strawberries, asparagus and peaches, last week there were cantaloupes and throughout the season lots of watermelons. These guys hustle to make sales and the prices are negotiable.
A kilo of asparagus will run you $30.00 pesos ($2.50), a big bag of juicy peaches $40.00 pesos and a braid of fresh garlic 3 feet long will tap you for around $60.00 pesos. What's not to like?
There is also the "Drive-by" retail experience. Just like in the days of my youth when fresh milk was delivered right to the front door of my childhood home, here in Mexico we have numerous vendors each with their own mode of transportation as well as their own song. In the early mornings we have the "Bakery Bicycle". Equiped with a 360 degree fully visible plexiglas showcase attached to the handlebars, and a bell that clearly identifys him as the bakery bicycle, you have your choice of fresh made pastries while they last. I know at some point this vendor will figure out how to attach a latte machine to the bike, at which time I will know it is time to become an investor.
Not to be outdone, once or twice a year I have heard the distinctive whistle of the knife sharpener. His grinding wheel (and chair) resting on his shoulder he strolls the streets blowing his familiar "signature song". He will sit on your sidewalk and sharpen your knives and tell you stories of his 35 year career.
Another routine cart that rolls by regularly is the one with mops, brooms, dust pans and various other cleaning supplies (I am sure this guy must make a killing with all the cleaning people down here).
On overnight trips to San Carlos and the beach if you are up early enough in the morning you will likely catch the fish monger with his catches' of the day. His pickup truck is loaded with coolers which are in turn loaded with all types of fresh fish that once lived nearby in San Carlos Bay. They find themselves in the back of a pickup and brought to your door for prices I am sure they would feel are way too low.
In case you have not had enough of Bits and Pieces in Mexico, you can feel comforted by the fact that there is likely to be a Part III. When I started this blog topic I did not realize there could well be an endless supply of anecdotes.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Bits and Pieces from Mexico Part 1
I have taken the liberty to present facts and then stretch them to enhance both your reading pleasure as well as my own experience while writing.
Having lived here in Hermosillo, Sonora for the last year and a half has had its share of interesting cultural uniqueness’s. I do not live in what is commonly called “an American colony” of which there are many around Mexico. These are cities or towns where you will find Americans living close to each other thereby maintaining a level of consistency as it relates to the cultural norms. I do not live in such a situation and am not suggesting that any one situation of living in a Mexican town or city is better than another. Each has its own palate of circumstances. This is about my situation.
For instance, I live in the central part of Hermosillo very close to the Zocala (town square). Many years ago this neighborhood was THE place to live as evidenced by the very large homes throughout the area, many of which are still occupied by “old money”.
The rest of the homes are a mish mash of culture. For instance our neighbors behind us have one of these large homes. The difference here is that the previous owner (who was old money) had no family to leave the home to, so it was given to the housekeeper (presumably for many years of fine service). Well of course the housekeeper along with ample family members moves in, dogs and all and proceeds to do what just about anyone would do in such a circumstance; open a business fixing cars. At least that is what it sounds like back there. We have enjoyed many hours or roaring engines, car alarms and junk yard dogs. One particularly noisy day we went up on our terrace which overlooks our neighbors’ yard to see what it was all about. Our neighbors, not liking the fact that we could “look down upon them” proceeded to construct a visual blockade soaring 25 feet into the downtown skyline. We lost a nice view of the cathedral on that day and there was nothing to be done about it.
The Daily News, Delivered.
Every morning at around 7 am a car with a rather large stereo speaker attached to the roof drives up and down the neighborhood streets with the morning news blaring out. Of course the news is relayed in Spanish, and with the quality of the speaker on the roof of the car and my understanding of Spanish somewhat limited, I really have never understood what was being said and more often than not had a few ugly things to say about people who drive around at 7 am with high volume anything coming out of one highly taxed stereo speaker. Today was different. Today as my partner Ethel and I were checking our emails, the “news car” rolled by and Ethel started laughing. Apparently the rendition of the news that was blaring went something like this, “Last night a poor man who was feeling down on his luck, with a hungry belly and spirits dancing in his mind (drugs/alcohol) was found in a neighbor’s house risking his life and freedom for a few pesos to feed himself and his family. By chance, a policeman found him there and took him to the great castle (jail).” Apparently many renditions of news stories are literally juiced up like this to make one feel less fear and get a little chuckle instead.
Dog town.
Everywhere I have been in Mexico I have noted the omnipresence of the canine. Unleashed, un-collared and street savy. These are not mean dogs, they are simply part of the culture. Roaming, exploring, sometimes alone, sometimes with amigos. One of the oddities I have noted is that I have never seen the loose roaming canines barking and carrying on. These dogs know how to cross a busy street and in some cases even direct traffic. The “domesticated” canine is where I find the problem. I use the word domesticated with a looseness that borders on anarchy. I have considered a few of the local domesticated canines with pity and distain. One around the corner from us lives 24/7 on a second floor balcony totally exposed to the sun all day and the moon at night. If you are not familiar with Sonora weather, summertime daily temperatures routinely hit 115- 120 degrees. Aside from being penned up all day exposed to extreme temperatures, wouldn’t you bark your little brain out every chance you had? Nobody appears to listen to the pleas (I am talking about the owners here), we get to hear the canine news frequently as this is only one of several dogs who have “barksex” almost every night. They really want to meet each other, I can tell from their tone, but they are separated by human walls and fences.
The Housing Crisis and Debt Bubble
When I first started driving down to Mexico, I couldn’t help but notice the number of partially built homes and buildings everywhere I went. Columns of cement and cinder blocks with steel rebar poking out from all the seams. It was always something I had been noticing almost at a subliminal level. My thought process went almost un-noticed. I made the assumption that these structures were in the process of falling down. There was no evidence of people working, machinery or equipment, just partial buildings on a dirt patch along the side of the road. These structures take a bit of the luster out of enjoying the scenery of a country side or a city, but there they were. I often wondered why these eyesores were not simply taken down repairing the view ………. And then I found out the truth.
The truth is Mexico is still pretty much a cash economy. While there are plenty of banks, people do business the old fashion way. Hell, those houses weren’t leftover; crumbling edifices and eyesores, they were new construction! Many people down here go by the economic principle “pay as you go”. Them there houses I was seeing all along the highways and byways were getting’ built when the owners had the cash to make the next improvement. I’m still wrapping my mind around these new fangled ways of doin’ things ‘round here.
Having lived here in Hermosillo, Sonora for the last year and a half has had its share of interesting cultural uniqueness’s. I do not live in what is commonly called “an American colony” of which there are many around Mexico. These are cities or towns where you will find Americans living close to each other thereby maintaining a level of consistency as it relates to the cultural norms. I do not live in such a situation and am not suggesting that any one situation of living in a Mexican town or city is better than another. Each has its own palate of circumstances. This is about my situation.
For instance, I live in the central part of Hermosillo very close to the Zocala (town square). Many years ago this neighborhood was THE place to live as evidenced by the very large homes throughout the area, many of which are still occupied by “old money”.
The rest of the homes are a mish mash of culture. For instance our neighbors behind us have one of these large homes. The difference here is that the previous owner (who was old money) had no family to leave the home to, so it was given to the housekeeper (presumably for many years of fine service). Well of course the housekeeper along with ample family members moves in, dogs and all and proceeds to do what just about anyone would do in such a circumstance; open a business fixing cars. At least that is what it sounds like back there. We have enjoyed many hours or roaring engines, car alarms and junk yard dogs. One particularly noisy day we went up on our terrace which overlooks our neighbors’ yard to see what it was all about. Our neighbors, not liking the fact that we could “look down upon them” proceeded to construct a visual blockade soaring 25 feet into the downtown skyline. We lost a nice view of the cathedral on that day and there was nothing to be done about it.
The Daily News, Delivered.
Every morning at around 7 am a car with a rather large stereo speaker attached to the roof drives up and down the neighborhood streets with the morning news blaring out. Of course the news is relayed in Spanish, and with the quality of the speaker on the roof of the car and my understanding of Spanish somewhat limited, I really have never understood what was being said and more often than not had a few ugly things to say about people who drive around at 7 am with high volume anything coming out of one highly taxed stereo speaker. Today was different. Today as my partner Ethel and I were checking our emails, the “news car” rolled by and Ethel started laughing. Apparently the rendition of the news that was blaring went something like this, “Last night a poor man who was feeling down on his luck, with a hungry belly and spirits dancing in his mind (drugs/alcohol) was found in a neighbor’s house risking his life and freedom for a few pesos to feed himself and his family. By chance, a policeman found him there and took him to the great castle (jail).” Apparently many renditions of news stories are literally juiced up like this to make one feel less fear and get a little chuckle instead.
Dog town.
Everywhere I have been in Mexico I have noted the omnipresence of the canine. Unleashed, un-collared and street savy. These are not mean dogs, they are simply part of the culture. Roaming, exploring, sometimes alone, sometimes with amigos. One of the oddities I have noted is that I have never seen the loose roaming canines barking and carrying on. These dogs know how to cross a busy street and in some cases even direct traffic. The “domesticated” canine is where I find the problem. I use the word domesticated with a looseness that borders on anarchy. I have considered a few of the local domesticated canines with pity and distain. One around the corner from us lives 24/7 on a second floor balcony totally exposed to the sun all day and the moon at night. If you are not familiar with Sonora weather, summertime daily temperatures routinely hit 115- 120 degrees. Aside from being penned up all day exposed to extreme temperatures, wouldn’t you bark your little brain out every chance you had? Nobody appears to listen to the pleas (I am talking about the owners here), we get to hear the canine news frequently as this is only one of several dogs who have “barksex” almost every night. They really want to meet each other, I can tell from their tone, but they are separated by human walls and fences.
The Housing Crisis and Debt Bubble
When I first started driving down to Mexico, I couldn’t help but notice the number of partially built homes and buildings everywhere I went. Columns of cement and cinder blocks with steel rebar poking out from all the seams. It was always something I had been noticing almost at a subliminal level. My thought process went almost un-noticed. I made the assumption that these structures were in the process of falling down. There was no evidence of people working, machinery or equipment, just partial buildings on a dirt patch along the side of the road. These structures take a bit of the luster out of enjoying the scenery of a country side or a city, but there they were. I often wondered why these eyesores were not simply taken down repairing the view ………. And then I found out the truth.
The truth is Mexico is still pretty much a cash economy. While there are plenty of banks, people do business the old fashion way. Hell, those houses weren’t leftover; crumbling edifices and eyesores, they were new construction! Many people down here go by the economic principle “pay as you go”. Them there houses I was seeing all along the highways and byways were getting’ built when the owners had the cash to make the next improvement. I’m still wrapping my mind around these new fangled ways of doin’ things ‘round here.
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