Monday, October 30, 2006
Chaps
Btw, I bought my first pair of leather chaps in Leon. Leon is the world capital (according to Luis) of shoes, and they have a fair amount of leather goods too. And I was riding on the back of my motorcycle (no, Luis still hasn't taught me how to drive it!), so I figured a pair of chaps would be a good investment. Photos to come soon (I hope - my camera took one too many spills and now is on strike. Bummer.).
Leon
We went to the city of Leon this weekend for a biker event.
I love Leon. I could live in Leon. It is a City with a capital "C". We stayed in a great hotel right on the center. I went out walking by myself one evening. Luis said "be careful" before I left. I said "I'm probably safer here than in Tuxpan." He agreed. So I went walking for an hour and a half.
I was in heaven.
And I realized something while we were in Leon. It's not me. I mean, this whole time I've been down here I've thought that I had a problem, that it was me who couldn't adjust to living in Mexico, that I just needed to try harder. That all my issues in my life have come to the surface and I'm struggling mightily with them, and if I could only get a grip on them things would improve.
HA! It's not me! It's not even Mexico! It's fucking Tuxpan! I just can't adapt to this pueblito (small town)!
There were two other women there with me (and the boys of the Chayacate Bikers Club) - one lives in Tuxpan, one lives in Colima but is originally from Tuxpan. They both agreed with me that Tuxpan is waaaaaaaaaaaay too small and the people here are waaaaaaaaaaaaay too small minded.
Gaby is from here, and so is her husband, but they have moved to Colima City in Colima state. She says she doesn't like going to visit Tuxpan. Her brother and father live here, but she doesn't come to visit too often.
Fatima is married to Herman, although they are seperated at the moment. She lives in a big house with her two kids and works as a housewife. She is concerned for her kids because there isn't anything to do here in Tuxpan. Her daughter wants to take ballet classes, but there aren't any. Her son wants to play musical instruments, but the music school here isn't all that great.
HA! It's NOT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!
What a frickin relief. Now I have Gaby's email address and I plan on emailing her often. Just to remind myself that it isn't me.
I love Leon. I could live in Leon. It is a City with a capital "C". We stayed in a great hotel right on the center. I went out walking by myself one evening. Luis said "be careful" before I left. I said "I'm probably safer here than in Tuxpan." He agreed. So I went walking for an hour and a half.
I was in heaven.
And I realized something while we were in Leon. It's not me. I mean, this whole time I've been down here I've thought that I had a problem, that it was me who couldn't adjust to living in Mexico, that I just needed to try harder. That all my issues in my life have come to the surface and I'm struggling mightily with them, and if I could only get a grip on them things would improve.
HA! It's not me! It's not even Mexico! It's fucking Tuxpan! I just can't adapt to this pueblito (small town)!
There were two other women there with me (and the boys of the Chayacate Bikers Club) - one lives in Tuxpan, one lives in Colima but is originally from Tuxpan. They both agreed with me that Tuxpan is waaaaaaaaaaaay too small and the people here are waaaaaaaaaaaaay too small minded.
Gaby is from here, and so is her husband, but they have moved to Colima City in Colima state. She says she doesn't like going to visit Tuxpan. Her brother and father live here, but she doesn't come to visit too often.
Fatima is married to Herman, although they are seperated at the moment. She lives in a big house with her two kids and works as a housewife. She is concerned for her kids because there isn't anything to do here in Tuxpan. Her daughter wants to take ballet classes, but there aren't any. Her son wants to play musical instruments, but the music school here isn't all that great.
HA! It's NOT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!
What a frickin relief. Now I have Gaby's email address and I plan on emailing her often. Just to remind myself that it isn't me.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Still Here
Yup, I'm still here. Still in Tuxpan. Still trying to adjust. Had a fight with Luis the other day. Called my lovely sister Lisa and had her talk me through my misery. Things are ok with him now.
But I still struggle with feeling out of place. There are so many reasons for this. Mostly I think it's because Tuxpan is a very small town. Everyone is in everyone else's business. They all care what their neighbor is doing. I really couldn't give a hoot. I care about what is going on in my life. If someone around me has some effect on my life, I might care about what they are doing. If something is bothering someone I care about, I care about what that something is. But who really cares what the neice of Sergio's sister in law is doing? Does it have anything to do with me? No? Well, good on her. She should live her life without my interference.
But that isn't how it works down here. I talked to one woman about this issue, and she said that people here are poor, they don't necessarily work every day, so they have to find something to amuse themselves. And the level of education is very low. Not that people don't go to school, but what is taught and the level of comittment to that teaching is very low. My nephew is taking a Shop class in high school. I suggested that he might be interested in doing some work for us in the carpenteria. His mom said no because his teacher doesn't really teach him anything. The teacher is usually drunk.
Oh. Drunk around power tools. Probably better that he doesn't try to teach the kids anything.
Ny neice has been taking English classes for 3 years. She can't even hold a basic conversation with me. And I mean *basic* - like "Hi, how are you today? I'm going to my English class now. I'll see you later."
Really.
So poor education and boredom. Apparently that is all you need to turn your attention to your neighbor's life rather than making one of your own.
But there is this whole culture of isolation going on down here too. TV news is much more shallow than news in the US. Yes, it is possible! Most of what passes for news is gossip about the stars. Who's fucking who, who is having a baby, who is getting a divorce, blahblahblah. News of the outside world is kinda rare. News of what is going on in Mexico is kinda rare. I mean there are reports about floods in the major cities, deaths, robberies, blahblahblah. But what is going on with the people in charge? What is the president doing? What are the other state polititians doing? Who knows.
The television stations are all owned by the same company. Or maybe there are a few companies, but not many at all. It is a monopoly for all purposes. And that monopoly is maintained by keeping the people in power happy. So you don't show them on your stations in any way that might be construed as negative. Or, better yet, only show them when they want the publicity. Wait for them to ask you. Don't go after them.
Freedom of the Press doesn't exist down here.
So you only see what they want you to see. Limiting your viewpoint further.
I'll write more about all this later. I think I'm getting a bit off track right now.
Suffice it to say that I'm still here.
But I still struggle with feeling out of place. There are so many reasons for this. Mostly I think it's because Tuxpan is a very small town. Everyone is in everyone else's business. They all care what their neighbor is doing. I really couldn't give a hoot. I care about what is going on in my life. If someone around me has some effect on my life, I might care about what they are doing. If something is bothering someone I care about, I care about what that something is. But who really cares what the neice of Sergio's sister in law is doing? Does it have anything to do with me? No? Well, good on her. She should live her life without my interference.
But that isn't how it works down here. I talked to one woman about this issue, and she said that people here are poor, they don't necessarily work every day, so they have to find something to amuse themselves. And the level of education is very low. Not that people don't go to school, but what is taught and the level of comittment to that teaching is very low. My nephew is taking a Shop class in high school. I suggested that he might be interested in doing some work for us in the carpenteria. His mom said no because his teacher doesn't really teach him anything. The teacher is usually drunk.
Oh. Drunk around power tools. Probably better that he doesn't try to teach the kids anything.
Ny neice has been taking English classes for 3 years. She can't even hold a basic conversation with me. And I mean *basic* - like "Hi, how are you today? I'm going to my English class now. I'll see you later."
Really.
So poor education and boredom. Apparently that is all you need to turn your attention to your neighbor's life rather than making one of your own.
But there is this whole culture of isolation going on down here too. TV news is much more shallow than news in the US. Yes, it is possible! Most of what passes for news is gossip about the stars. Who's fucking who, who is having a baby, who is getting a divorce, blahblahblah. News of the outside world is kinda rare. News of what is going on in Mexico is kinda rare. I mean there are reports about floods in the major cities, deaths, robberies, blahblahblah. But what is going on with the people in charge? What is the president doing? What are the other state polititians doing? Who knows.
The television stations are all owned by the same company. Or maybe there are a few companies, but not many at all. It is a monopoly for all purposes. And that monopoly is maintained by keeping the people in power happy. So you don't show them on your stations in any way that might be construed as negative. Or, better yet, only show them when they want the publicity. Wait for them to ask you. Don't go after them.
Freedom of the Press doesn't exist down here.
So you only see what they want you to see. Limiting your viewpoint further.
I'll write more about all this later. I think I'm getting a bit off track right now.
Suffice it to say that I'm still here.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Some things change...
We got another set of stop lights in town. Until recently there were two stoplights, now there are three. All three of them are in the Centro. And for the most part people obey them.
Some things don't...
Luis and I have been looking for our own place to live for a while now. We like Cynthia and Sergio, but having our own place to live in would improve things considerably. Unfortunately it’s difficult to rent a place here. Houses are either family owned or already rented out. Seems people don’t move around here much.
The other day I saw a “Se Renta” sign across the street from our shop. From the outside, the house looked small and nondescript. It was being worked on at the time, so we wandered in and asked the workers who owned the house. Luis knew who the owner was, and we wandered around the place to check it out.
There was a long entrance hall which opened up into a front room. There was a bank of windows that looked out into an open courtyard, which would bring in a lot of light – a rarity in the houses here. Off the courtyard there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and another room with a bank of windows. At the back of the house there was the customary water tank, and extra space for storage. The entire house was freshly painted white and was in very good shape. Plus there was a small front room which opened onto the street, to be used as a storefront if we wanted. We could rent just the house or the house and the one room storefront. We had been talking about getting a showroom for our woodworking, so this was perfect.
In fact, the house was perfect. Small, but not too small, lots of light, half a block from our shop, right on a main street (so our showroom would be easily accessible), and clean.
I tried not to get too excited. The “se renta” sign had only been up for a few days, so I figured not too many people would have asked about it. And we had been excited about houses before only to have those hopes dashed. So I tried to remain neutral.
Luis called the number on the sign and we arranged to meet the owner at her house that evening at 5.30pm. The rest of the day we talked about the house and how the front shop would be perfect for our showroom. At 5.30 we went to the owners house. Luis rang the bell and an old man came to the door. Luis said we were here to look at the house, and he went back inside to find the owner.
When she came out, she and Luis spoke for a few minutes. Luis said that he was the brother of Cynthia and they had rented an apartment from her before. He enquired about the house. She said that she had already rented it. She said that someone had given her a deposit, which was allowing her to have work done on the house. But she kept the “se renta” sign up, just in case things didn’t work out with them. Luis thanked her for her time and we left.
Shit. Another house rented out from underneath us.
“She didn’t want to rent to us,” Luis said.
“What? I thought she said it was already rented out.”
“That was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to rent to us.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know.”
This baffled me. In the States someone may not want to rent to you, but they have the freedom to decide that privately. You fill out an application, go away, hope to hear from them that you have the apartment. Here it’s sort of first come first served. Sort of. Unless the renter doesn’t like you for some reason. Then they tell you some bullshit excuse just to get you to go away.
As the day wore on, Luis remembered that his brother Antonio had also rented from this woman. Antonio isn’t the most responsible person. He apparently had skipped out on some rent to this woman in the past. And he wasn’t completely sure how things had ended with the apartment he and Cynthia had rented fro her before – he had been living in the States and Cynthia was responsible for that apartment. She may have been late on rent too.
And Luis had had the genius idea to tell her who his family was.
Damn his family!
And damn this woman for not renting to us! I was really frustrated by her refusal to rent to us. I’m a responsible person! And the place was perfect for us! Damn, damn, damn!
I’ve been fairly level headed about this thing in the past. This was our fifth house we had looked at, and none of them had worked out. But this is the one that pushed me over the edge. I had kept my feelings inside for the previous losses. This time I ranted and raved. “OH COME ON!!!!!! What the hell? What do we have to do to rent a fucking house? AAAAARRRRRGH!"
All of this was in my head, btw.
Now I sway between cursing the woman as we drive by her house and trying to send out happy, loving, pro-renting vibes to her. But people here don't change their minds. It's a sign of weakness if you do. So I don't suspect my happy vibes will do anything.
Dang.
The other day I saw a “Se Renta” sign across the street from our shop. From the outside, the house looked small and nondescript. It was being worked on at the time, so we wandered in and asked the workers who owned the house. Luis knew who the owner was, and we wandered around the place to check it out.
There was a long entrance hall which opened up into a front room. There was a bank of windows that looked out into an open courtyard, which would bring in a lot of light – a rarity in the houses here. Off the courtyard there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and another room with a bank of windows. At the back of the house there was the customary water tank, and extra space for storage. The entire house was freshly painted white and was in very good shape. Plus there was a small front room which opened onto the street, to be used as a storefront if we wanted. We could rent just the house or the house and the one room storefront. We had been talking about getting a showroom for our woodworking, so this was perfect.
In fact, the house was perfect. Small, but not too small, lots of light, half a block from our shop, right on a main street (so our showroom would be easily accessible), and clean.
I tried not to get too excited. The “se renta” sign had only been up for a few days, so I figured not too many people would have asked about it. And we had been excited about houses before only to have those hopes dashed. So I tried to remain neutral.
Luis called the number on the sign and we arranged to meet the owner at her house that evening at 5.30pm. The rest of the day we talked about the house and how the front shop would be perfect for our showroom. At 5.30 we went to the owners house. Luis rang the bell and an old man came to the door. Luis said we were here to look at the house, and he went back inside to find the owner.
When she came out, she and Luis spoke for a few minutes. Luis said that he was the brother of Cynthia and they had rented an apartment from her before. He enquired about the house. She said that she had already rented it. She said that someone had given her a deposit, which was allowing her to have work done on the house. But she kept the “se renta” sign up, just in case things didn’t work out with them. Luis thanked her for her time and we left.
Shit. Another house rented out from underneath us.
“She didn’t want to rent to us,” Luis said.
“What? I thought she said it was already rented out.”
“That was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to rent to us.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know.”
This baffled me. In the States someone may not want to rent to you, but they have the freedom to decide that privately. You fill out an application, go away, hope to hear from them that you have the apartment. Here it’s sort of first come first served. Sort of. Unless the renter doesn’t like you for some reason. Then they tell you some bullshit excuse just to get you to go away.
As the day wore on, Luis remembered that his brother Antonio had also rented from this woman. Antonio isn’t the most responsible person. He apparently had skipped out on some rent to this woman in the past. And he wasn’t completely sure how things had ended with the apartment he and Cynthia had rented fro her before – he had been living in the States and Cynthia was responsible for that apartment. She may have been late on rent too.
And Luis had had the genius idea to tell her who his family was.
Damn his family!
And damn this woman for not renting to us! I was really frustrated by her refusal to rent to us. I’m a responsible person! And the place was perfect for us! Damn, damn, damn!
I’ve been fairly level headed about this thing in the past. This was our fifth house we had looked at, and none of them had worked out. But this is the one that pushed me over the edge. I had kept my feelings inside for the previous losses. This time I ranted and raved. “OH COME ON!!!!!! What the hell? What do we have to do to rent a fucking house? AAAAARRRRRGH!"
All of this was in my head, btw.
Now I sway between cursing the woman as we drive by her house and trying to send out happy, loving, pro-renting vibes to her. But people here don't change their minds. It's a sign of weakness if you do. So I don't suspect my happy vibes will do anything.
Dang.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Kitty Update
So, in case you were wondering, my cats have a new home. My bestest male friend in Atlanta contacted me at the 11th hour and offered to house them. Love you Wade! So they are back in the South for now.
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