Category Archives: moving to Mexico

Just Another Irrigation Day

Chris suggested I translate some words, so I did. Good suggestion.

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It was one of those awful, good days – a little bit of everything! It was cloudy and warmish when I got up before 6. We got an early start and got to El Joconoistle at 7 a.m.( All the fields around us have old, official names you can read on the deeds, and there are maps of them. I’d love to put a copy of the old, fragile map right here – one day I will.) We own a field in El Joconoistle, named for some cacti that used to grow there. Another field in El Joconoistle is rented from a friend. In La Tabla Grande, the big board, we own two fields that lie next to each other, purchased from two of Chon’s uncles.  El Melonár, named for the melons grown there many years ago and La Tierra Blanca, or white dirt, named for its light-colored earth, are also rented, from Chon’s godfather.

Chon is irrigating a section of a parcela we farm so as not to pay a peón to work. (Parcela is the word used here for a parcel of land.) Irrigating is the most highly paid job here, because the irrigator is supposed to be there 24 hours for each turn. The section we were watering had flooded a little bit in the night, and we went there (in the night) forgetting to take a shovel, but Chon had closed the boquilla with his hands and mud, and it was OK in the morning. (A boquilla is a sort of notch in the side of a ditch where the water is managed. To open it and let the water into the field, you shovel away the wet dirt. To stop the water, you just build it back up again. Or use a costál, a large , woven plastic bag that can hold about 100 pounds of fertilizer, or sand, or dirt.)

Boquilla - little mouth. And a costál.

Boquilla – little mouth. And a costál.

Then we went to La Tierra Blanca to make sure that one of our father/son teams were taking care of the water there. The night before we listened to extremely upsetting stories of how the water was taken from us by a well-known peón of the most well-known farmeraround, who removed the boards we had put in the compuerta to divert the water to our ditch. We heard more details of that story.

This is a compuerta with a valve wheel in the main ditch. No boquillas here!

This is a compuerta with a valve wheel in the main ditch. No boquillas here!

The sky got darker and darker, and then it began to sprinkle, and by 8 a.m. to was raining. The sound of rain on tall corn plants is something to remember. And this time it was particularly wonderful, as the plants really really needed water. By 8:30 it was still raining. The ground there gets gummy right away, and I managed to get the pickup stuck. Both front tires were over the edge of the ditch.

One of our workers drove his decrepit red pickup over and after jockeying it around, and nearly getting it stuck, all the peónes together, and the red pickup pulled us backwards out of danger. By this time Chon was chilled to the bone, and his shirt was dripping water from the hem. I gave him my merely-damp flannel shirt to wear, and a bandana, because I nearly always wear a t-shirt underneath flannel in the mornings, and I wasn’t cold. And by that time the sun was out!

This is a small compuerta with a valve, where we divert water into one of our fields.

This is a small compuerta with a valve, where we divert water into La Tabla Grande

We went then to open the water in La Tabla Grande, and were there an hour or so, and then traveled back to El Joco. While we were there, a bump in the road that had been becoming more and more of a driving problem had turned out to be (I knew it! I knew it!) a broken pipe that crosses under the road, and Porfirio and his son started digging, and they uncovered most of the smashed part, and the water began to flow out of it, and then it inexplicably got stopped up, and Chon pulled one, two, three costales out of it. They had been used on the other side of the road at the compuerta to divert the water from the canal into our irrigation ditch. In the US they most likely would have been filled with sand, but these had been filled with mud, maybe a year or two ago. The mud had partly oozed out through the mesh fabric, and the no-longer-full costales had made their way into the 10-inch pipe. Chon also pulled a dinky little mud turtle out of the pipe, and we all laughed at that, and I took it back to the canal.

The pipe just kept getting plugged up over and over, and we finally drove to the house to get a very, very long piece of rebar (12 meters long!) which eventually was used to clean out the long piece of pipe after Chon had a brilliant idea to open one of the boquillas into the field to get the water moving better.

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We didn’t get back from the fields until after four p.m., and it was nearly all work and/or frustration!

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We Drove To La Presa Nueva de Jalpa

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We drove El Esqueleto to the reservoir at the end of summer. I had thought it would be a miserable drive, but it wasn’t. Anyone who has walked up that road knows about the uneven, rocky road. It’s built of rocks, and there are speed bumps (speed bumps on a rock road, you say? Indeed.) But it was fun!

The reservoir is about 120 years old, and the old presa is much older. Chon’s ancestors moved to this area to get work building it. It’s important now because it’s owned by the water industry, and all of us farmers use it for irrigation. When the water level gets up to about 26 meters, they sometimes can begin to release it to use to water crops.

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So we got there, and walked out on the dam. There are millions of water lilies there, choking it up. There must be a way to harvest them.

Here are some photos of the area. It was a gorgeous day.

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There’s a college there, too. If this is it, it’s quite beautiful.

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El Correo – The Post Office

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I believe this photo shows a modification of a delivery truck using colors and logo of the Mexican postal service. Found on Google Images. Great colors, aren’t they?

We’ve used private mail box services in California to get our mail held or forwarded to us in Mexico. The services were efficient, but to us seemed expensive in the long run. The charges can add up quickly.

We needed to maintain an address in the US, and in December, 2014, we decided to switch to the United States Postal Service. Yes, the good ole’ USPS, in California, close to where we stay for our two-week-plus Christmas holiday gig.

Our annual PO box rental fee was due in January of this year. We figured it would be simple to make the payment online. But it wasn’t. It may be my fault, but I can’t find out. We received an email message that the rent was due. Included was the amount due, and an address for mailing. We made the payment in a timely manner. But then we received a second email, couched in sterner terms, that our payment had not been received, and if we didn’t make the payment within ten days, the box would be closed, and any mail in it would be returned to senders. We couldn’t make the payment online through the handy USPS service, because we repeatedly got the message that the name on the account had to match exactly the name of the person who had signed the contract. Hmmm. Now, where could that pesky contract be? And how many ways are there to spell the name Anderson?

What to do? We called the post office on many different days, at different hours. No answer. Finally we called a relative, who went to the post office. Yes, he discovered, he could make the payment for us, but they could not give him the contract information. Now, I’m a mature person, and I do understand about rules and regulations, but it was quite frustrating. At last we got the mailbox rent paid for another year by sending money to our long-suffering and long-standing-in-line relative. Whew! Covered for another year.

Now when I relate the next part of the story you’ll think, if you’re not already thinking it, that we’re thoughtless and irresponsible people. We’re not, but we do occasionally forget things, and we do get busy. This year, when we returned to Mexico after the longish stay in California, we jumped right into wheat farming. It took the best part of nearly every day, and well, we just didn’t drive the 15 or so miles to visit our post office in San Francisco del Rincon. We didn’t expect any mail, anyway, although we knew our rent had been due in January. Truly, we just didn’t think about it much. A few times we even drove past the post office, but we didn’t feel like we had time to stop. We had to go to the bank to get the money for the farming investment, or there was some other obligation. But it did begin to weigh on us a bit. We hadn’t paid our box rent.

Then, a birthday present was on the way. We seriously discussed the problem. Nearly six months had passed. What would the Mexican postal service do? We already knew what the US postal service would have done.

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image from ebay.com

Maybe you thought I was going to say something accusatory about the Mexican postal service?

Finally, with a bit of dread, we went to the post office. As we entered, a woman we didn’t remember greeted us warmly, saying that we hadn’t received anything. It had been a long time since she’d seen us! How were we? Where had we been?

When we told her we wanted to pay for our post office box she said – get this! “It’s already been six months. Why not wait until next January to pay for your box?  We’ll hold anything that comes for you, and you can pick it up here at the desk”.

We glanced at each other and grinned.

Only in Mexico.

 

ANNUAL CHECKUP

I love the pointillistic effect of a Blackberry in poor light!

We have been here in Mexico off and on for over a year, and I thought a general examination might be in order.
PERSONAL
I am happy here. There is really nothing I miss about California life., with the exception of a few wonderful people, and hot water. The bathing water that the family here calls “calientita” is really not even warmer than my skin.
My job as a high school choral teacher was stressful. Each year when I began the year I wished I was not aware of how much hard work was ahead of me. My work here is enjoyable. I like caring for our house. I never considered myself a good housekeeper, but the daily sweeping and mopping of floors is not unpleasant. The frequency means that there really isn’t a lot of dirt. It’s quick and everything smells good afterwards. I’m trying to enjoy dusting as well.
I still don’t cook here – Chon’s sister does that. Since I like to cook, that has been a minus, but still, there is a definite ease of life when you only have to heat up food when it’s dinner time. After we return from Los Angeles we are going to refresh the kitchen with new tile floors and paint, and we intend to do our own cooking when that is finished; we are sending the small stove (with NO oven) to Chon’s sister’s house, and starting with our own electric oven that has been languishing in the patio (it’s 220 v, and, well, nobody has 220 here) or a new gas stove /oven. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here. In a check-up do you get to include future plans?
I don’t have many friends, but I think that might change when I am more fluent in Spanish. And about that – it is slowly becoming more easy to have conversations, although I have occasional brain farts when I can’t remember very common words. Maybe that will never change – happens in English, too!
FINANCES/PRICES
Since inquiring minds want to know, food and household items are LOTS lower in price than in the US. Medicines are rather expensive, but the doctor care I have experienced is efficient,excdellent, and inexpensive. For most people here, it seems expensive, but compared to the California health care I am familiar with, it’s very low-cost. A doctor’s visit is less than $40. A brief, efficient, and very state-of-the-art hospital visit for Chon’s sister to remove gall-stones was completed in about three hours, and cost about $1,500. Really.
Food/groceries are good, and inexpensive.
Mattresses cost about a third of what they cost in the US.
FARMING AND GARDENING

We harvested our fields last month, and made about a 50% return on our investment in seed, tractor work, and labor, and we are opening a savings account to keep the money we made for next year’s farming expenses (it costs a lot to plant and fertilize).
Our garden was a success, but will be much better next year. We were casual in our seeding, and the result was overcrowding. We got a great harvest of zucchini (and lots and lots memorable meals with zucchini flowers). The poblano chile plants, now freed from the shade of the sprawling tomato plants, have now set on tiny chiles. if we don’t get a killing frost, who knows! Chiles in January?
WEATHER
Here in central Mexico the weather is temperate. That doesn’t mean that it is warm all the time. Lately it has been quite chilly, with temperatures dipping well into the 30’s some nights. When we brought clothing here, I was told to bring sweaters. Now in December, I’m glad that I did.
HOME IMPROVEMENTS
We created some space – a new bedroom and bathroom for Chon’s mother (the old bath is outdoors and down a step, making it difficult for her to navigate). 
We have a new studio for practice and recording. And a stage on top of our garage, for performances. (Years ago we began a tradition of performing for the town. Come see us on New Year’s Eve!)

Does he look like a guitar god?

 AUTOMOBILES/REGISTRATION

We finally got the registration papers for our large truck. We use it mostly for band equipment. It took months to get this task done.  There are a bewildering number of laws and rules about importing  cars to Mexico. The truck qualified, but it evidently had some customization that was difficult to explain, or get cleared, or – something. Now, though, it is legal, and has Mexican license plates. 
TRAVEL AND DRIVING
We have driven many, many miles without trouble. When you cross state lines, however, you may well be stopped by federales, local police, or soldiers. We had an unpleasant experience in Nayarit when federales inspected our PT Cruiser and announced that they had found a marijuana seed in the back. They were insulting and a little scary while they kept us there for about half an hour. They pretended to be insulted when Chon offered to pay them for their trouble, but one of them took some large bills from the travel money we had with us.
Another time when we were stopped by some troops the young soldiers were very happy to accept a mordida although they took it hurriedly so that their superior officer did not see them; probably they didn’t want to share!
Driving here is – different. In general, the rules and laws are the same as the ones we all know and love. But the signs are different, and I don’t mean because they are in Spanish. They are placed differently; not regularized in placement, or color, or lettering. Sometimes you must make a turn before a sign, and sometimes quite a way after the sign. It can be a challenge to find signs for street names. Glorietas (or round-abouts) are a little scary at first, but then they begin to make sense. Just keep to the center of the circle if you are going all the way around, and to the outside lane if you are going to turn right. Many large cities have removed glorietas and replaced them with signal lights.
 UNWRITTEN RULES AND ETIQUETTE
I can’t give myself a high mark in this, but it is improving. Here’s an example: if I were at my home in California and a visitor was seated on my couch, I would go sit next to them to show I was happy they were there, and that I wanted to visit and be sociable. Here, in Mexico though, if someone is visiting and I go to sit with them, in a few minutes they get up and go. A territorial thing? (Sometimes useful!)
I think this was quite random, but that’s what I can think of right now for my checkup, and I’m just going to quit.

Shopping

The large, mogul- or corporation-operated stores have not yet infiltrated every part of every large town. But in every large town I have visited so far, I could find everything I was looking for. There are small, family-owned businesses dedicated to just about anything you might need. I love the feeling of community this generates.
In the area where my niece Sara lives, within two blocks of her house she can purchase vegetables, meat, bread and tortillas, and dairy products for her meals. In the store where you buy vegetables you can also find cooked beans and home-made salsa(in small plastic bags, both). Next door to her house is a family that offers electrical services and repair. Across the street is a small place that offers computer use. (For about a dollar an hour). Within a couple of blocks in the other direction there is a paint store, a hairdresser, a dry cleaner. A couple of blocks further sits the town’s large market, or mercado. Inside the large building you can find a great variety of products including clothing and shoes. Crowded around outside are a myriad of other products – used tools, hand-made and hand-sewn items, watch bands, T-shirts,  famous pirated musical CD’s and movies. Across the street from the mercado you can get copies made, see a dentist, or recharge your phone.
When we went to San Pancho the other day, we walked to a small phone store to get phone service, then to a jewelry store (the owner is married to one of Chon’s nieces); we visited our attorney and the friendly pharmacist, the bank, and then we hoped to find a screw. And not just any old screw. It was a special kind of screw that is used to hold large speakers in their places in several giant speaker cabinets that we use for live band performances. We went to El Bola, the hardware guy. He sent us to an auto parts store a block away,and the very funny, joking elderly owner sent us to an auto sound store, and the young guys there sent us to a place a couple of blocks away that is – ta-da! a screw store. Really! There were other hardware-type items available, but the place specializes in screws. It’s even called El Tornillo, The Screw. Instead of wrinkling his brow in a perplexed way as had all the other shopkeepers, this guy, instead of saying, “Let me see if I have it”, said “How many?” Eureka!
Near The Screw, I recall, are several large businesses that sell only ceramic tile. And paints. And chiles of all types.
Shoes and well-made leather items are affordable in our part of the state of Guanajuato, and you might see a man laboring, wearing good leather shoes.  There are many shoe and tennis shoe factories. Billboards advertise “Say No To Pirated Soles”. I assume these are aimed at the numerous factory owners. Just the fact that the signs are there is a indication of the number of shoe factories, isn’t it?
This kind of shopping may not appeal to everybody, especially those of us who are impatient or accustomed to making one stop for many things. For those people, there are stores like Waldo, the dollar store. Everything there costs about a dollar, just like the Ninety-Nine-Cent Stores in the US. The stock changes often, and things you saw there last week might not still be available, but you are sure to find something similar. You can find sundries, toys, and lots of household items for cleaning. 
The  last few years have seen the coming of very large Wall-Mart-type stores, too. A well-known store, La Bodega (The Warehouse), offers a very large variety of foods and household items and electronics, as well as automobile supplies and a pharmacy.
Some enterprising vendors take their products to the small towns like ours, called ranchos. On Tuesdays a vegetable vendor comes and sets up a tent-like roof and displays boxes of vegetables, most of them at very reasonable prices, and in good condition. Today a pick-up came through town with very nice oranges and mandarins for sale, about five pounds for less than a dollar. A couple of trucks come through daily with tanks of propane for household use. A nursery truck comes through every couple of weeks. 
And of course, our rancho has its own stores. They are small, but there are several. They carry household necessities in very small packages, just the right size for people with small amounts of money to spend. You can buy an envelope of Pantene shampoo for about 20 cents, a very large bottle of Coca-Cola for about $1.50, a smallish bottle of Clorox or a package of dish soap, as well as a limited selection of vegetables, beans, and pastas. Women and children are the main patrons of these spots.
Chon resents these family stores. There is one right across the street owned by the Franco family (relatives, of course), that has been there for over 40 years. A problem directly related to the store causes us frustration; the Francos sell beer. (and, I recently noticed, tequila) The patrons tend to sit in front of the store on weekend nights, drinking their beers. This leads to two inevitable results – arguments, and elimination. The beer drinkers often find their way onto our property to, well, you know – eliminate. We have had some hilarious fun thinking of ways to solve this problem. Motion-sensitive lights? Alarms? Try to get a court order for the Francos to disallow drinking? Try to force the Francos to install a toilet?
Anyway, if you ask around, you will find just about everything you need. Package and mail delivery? Yes. Auto repair? Of course. Computer repair? Yup. Chinese restaurant? Fabrics and threads? Washing machine or blender? Yes, yes, and yes. Right around the block, or within a mile or so.

Limbo

Our agent Samuel came to see us last night. He tells us that he is just waiting – the permissions arrive from Mexico City. He can get our money back, and we could try with a different agency, but what if the permissions are arriving as we take our next breath? 
We have also checked other options. If I had my FM3, my longterm visa, I could take a car into Mexico with California plates, and keep it there. There’s a consulate right here in Nogales, but it appears that it takes at least a couple of weeks to get the visa.
We also called in bigger guns. Alfonso, the customs agent we used for our move, also works with vehicles – who knew? He was going to stop by last night to give us advice, but he just – didn’t. We called him this morning but he was in a meeting. But he might be able to do this for us – he’s had years of experience.

We give up. We are staring another weekend in the face, drinking thermos coffee the cook gives secretly gives us. There’s nothing to be done. But wait. Limbo.