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.

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.