The Inner Fight

Mexico is the third country I've technically moved to from the United States, although one might argue that leaving for 6 months to a cruise ship for the first time (before living overseas) was just as scary a notion.

The first two countries were South Korea and India, neither of which I had any inkling of the language nor customs. Both were immense struggles and I left both a very different woman. Knowing I had some of the language and customs for Mexico made it seem a choice that would be easier.

Initial excitement always provides a magic carpet ride as it were, to enable the first few days or weeks of anticipation. Then once things are starting to settle, the reality of a new country, no matter the language or customs, overwhelms your senses. I want to run and hide.

People mention to me how brave (or crazy) I am to do this all by myself. I've never felt either of those ironically. I just feel normal; my normal :)

I still face all the fears everyone else does. The fear of stepping out into an unknown city, an unknown country with unknown people. It's scary. I've hid inside my apartment for days surviving on cheese and crackers and cans of beans and chicken. It's terrifying to step outside. It's terrifying to try to speak Spanish. It's terrifying to try to ask questions or figure out how something works when your frame of reference is clearly not sufficient. It's just as terrifying as it is exciting. The waves of both emotions flood various days predicating actions. Rationalization takes over despite the realization that it is.

Even so, I've stepped out before. I've met people and walked away happy. I've had conversations in Spanish and been pleasantly surprised at the success. I've figured out different systems of driving and purchasing and thought, "Wow, too bad it's not this easy in the U.S.". I've enjoyed my time exploring and learning each and every time. Yet I still find myself overcome with the fears of "ifs" and an unknown future for days at a time.

There is nothing easy about stepping outside of my comfort zone. There is nothing easy about moving outside your country, your language, your culture. There is nothing easy about traveling the world alone. There is nothing easy about facing your fears. None of it is easy. Yet, my life is more fulfilled. It is more joyful. It is more beautiful than I could possibly hope when I face each of those fears head on.

Yes, there are days, and maybe even weeks, where I curl up and feel sorry for myself and let the fear take over and binge watch Netflix. There are many more days and many more weeks though, where, with heart pounding and palms sweating, I face each fear head on with determination. There have absolutely been disappointments (read my India posts). But out of it all I'm the woman I am today that people see as brave and crazy because of it.

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The minute I went to publish this post a couple of days ago, the touch pad on my brand new computer quit working. After uninstalling and reinstalling the drivers and restarting the computer numerous times, it still doesn't work. Luckily it recognizes my external mouse, but seriously, I now have to travel everywhere with an external mouse to use a brand new computer. Sigh.

I've been struggling with Montezuma's revenge for over a week now. It comes and goes but it's never wise to leave the house for very long. The plus side is I eat less (knowing what the result will be), so I'm hoping to end the battle a few pounds less than I started.

It's been in the 40s and 50s degrees F here inside my concrete apartment. It does get up in the 60s outside but the concrete keeps it cool inside. It's a great convenience in the summertime but with old style windows that don't close so the cold air blows in day and night it's miserable in the winter time. I've had every sweater on that I own and double layer socks and pants, cuddled up under all the blankets but it hasn't been enough. I finally broke down and bought a space heater for the bedroom. All I can hope is that I don't lose my deposit over the electric bill (which has happened to me before so it's a valid fear).

The sugar ants have decided they like everything here. From the bar soap to wash my hands to the crackers for my cheese wrapped inside plastic and wound with a twisty tie on the top most shelf of the kitchen cabinet, to the toothpaste residue in the sink. It's unreal. They don't sell ant traps here that I have found and these aren't standard ants that I've used traps for before so I'm thinking just let them enjoy the bathroom accoutrements and keep everything not in cans in the fridge. Cold crackers with cold cheese isn't too bad :)

Between the cold, the revenge, the computer problems, the ants, and the solid rain for two days I haven't got much rest, but the rain has finally stopped. It's still very overcast with a chill to the air, but it's not raining. I've moved almost all my furniture into the bedroom so I can "close" the pretend door-like structure and work, eat, sleep, and play with Denny Crane in the nice warm room. Only time will tell what the price of the enjoyment will cost me.

It was too cold for color.

The Golden Goose That Got Away

If you haven't seen a house hunting/ renovating show that declares you can't have it all, you can't check all your boxes, you will have to comprise; I'm guessing you're in the minority.

I'm telling you: they're wrong.

Apartment hunting in Guadalajara certainly has been a learning experience. No amount of pre-move research, no amount of contact making and local questioning can prepare you for the reality of house hunting in a foreign country, even a country you semi-know.

One day though, after tireless research, calls, walk-throughs, disappointments, and possibilities, I walked into the house I now call "The Golden Goose That Got Away."

This place indeed did have it all. It did indeed check all my boxes and more. It indeed didn't have any comprise I could find. It was a golden goose, once in a lifetime find. 

I tried that very day to get my paperwork in only to find someone else had already started the process the very same day. I was told if they didn't submit all their paperwork by the next Monday I could step into line. So I collected everything I was told to collect and double checked (with my Spanish interpreter) that the agency was okay with all the paperwork I did and didn't have. I was confirmed and reconfirmed that indeed, if I submitted the forms they emailed with the documents they requested, I'd be able to sign a lease for the apartment.

Immediately I collected, assembled, and submitted the requested paperwork and forms, verifying with my interpreter yet again that everything was done correctly so there would be no problems.

With my hopes and excitement soaring, I waited to hear my acceptance. 

That same afternoon I received a phone call from the agency. I still struggle with Spanish over a telephone so I gave the phone to my interpreter and learned everything I'd been told was false. The lady at the agency that had been working with me apparently didn't know what she was talking about and they couldn't rent to me as an American without all the other documents they hadn't requested. I offered 6 months up front. I offered to pay more rent per month. But the boss on the phone would not be swayed and I was denied flat out on my American status. 

I have searched in the weeks since and found nothing even remotely close. I didn't think I would. I already knew the market and the Golden Goose apartment was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I don't expect to have again. 

The thorn in my side is that the apartment is still listed for rent. No one else has it and I still can't have it. I will have to move on, but I now have a standard I hope to match one day again in another apartment. 

And now I know that all the television shows that tell you it's impossible to find that perfect place, are indeed, incorrect, because I did. I found the Golden Goose and it got away.

Stick Shift Stretch

There are those days where you wake up and find out it's not going to be anything at all like the day you might have imagined. And then as you go through the day, even what you thought it would turn out to be is completely and utterly different.

Today was that day.

I'll begin my day a little earlier.

The windows in my room don't close entirely and they face the street so I get a lot of the street noise. I actually enjoy it. The life, the energy, the feeling of inclusiveness, is one I like off and on. The cacophony of sounds usually forms a white noise of perfect sleepfulness for me.

This particular location has one caveat however. There is a large, and obtrusively loud dog across the street that is a fantastic guard dog in that every person or car or animal that wanders by the street is alarmed. Most nights this dog is fairly quiet, but last night, it was a torture room in my bedroom. Just as I would fall asleep the dog would bark and wake me up. I would listen for a few minutes and try to fall back asleep. As I'm just drifting into a beautiful deep sleep finally, again, the dog barks. This went on all night long. By morning I could barely talk without yawning and was having difficulty focusing.

This is where the fun began.

My couch surfing host came home from her early morning class and said her mother would prefer me to drive her mothers car to a house 3 hours away to change out a light bulb and hang a curtain. Spending the day driving was the last thing I was interested in. Really, I just wanted to go back to bed.

However, there was a key feature in this request that changed my decision. The car I was asked to drive is a manual.

It's funny to me that the daughter initially told her mother I couldn't drive a manual because my car is an automatic, and as she clarified later, she's never met an American that can drive a manual. Well, now she has.

That's not to say I'm any kind of manual driving wonder. In fact, I'm quite the opposite. I rarely drive them and am extremely unconfident in my ability to do so. However, I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to further develop my manual driving skills, because the chance only comes every few years usually.

So with an exhausted mind and a stiff neck, I got dressed and said, "Let's do this! As long as I can get coffee on the road".

What an adventure then ensued.

Mexico is a country of speed bumps (topes) and so being able to constantly shift gears is a true necessity. I don't have any problem with that, but I had a rather frustrating time with getting this particular car not to kick me out of first gear after each tope. The daughter was extremely patient and kind as I stalled the car multiple times trying to get the gear shift to stay in first gear. After a few rounds though, I got more comfortable with the car, remembering that I've driven manual cars before. I could do this!

And I did.

I drove that car successfully all the way there and back, up and down 45 degree hill grades and managed to somehow instill a since of calm and confidence to the daughter and to the mother for driving her daughter on the busy highways.

I'm still not exactly sure how I did it, but I stepped outside my comfort zone and succeeded.

The success of my drive was not the pinnacle reward of my day though.

I was gifted with a local's knowledge of a small town beverage that people drive from all around to get in a little town, San Luis Soyatlàn, a good hour from Guadalajara. It was (and still is actually) originally a fruit stand and at the end of the day, they would take the leftover fruit and mix the juice of them with some soda, salt, and tequila. The locals loved it and as word spread, the little roadside stall became a sensation for this beverage. Since it started as a fruit stand, the workers didn't have cups to put the beverages in so they just used the plastic bags they had for selling the fruit. They still do that today, so when you buy a half liter or liter of Vampiro, it comes in a plastic bag knotted around a straw.  I can't say it was my favorite (because of the tablespoon of salt added), but it's apparently many people's highlight.

The "Fruit Stand"

Vampiro preparation

Tequila pour. You get to choose your tequila and how much you want :-)

The full Vampiro liter (okay, my new Mexican sister and I split it)!

Then I got to view one of the most beautiful villages just south of Lake Chapala, Mazamitla.

It's so charming and stunningly beautiful. There are hideous hills to drive, and teeth rattling (more like throw you out of your car jarring) original cobblestone streets, but the character of the village is extremely inviting. I enjoyed walking around it for a brief time and seeing the town square.

The road to the square.

Looking up.

The square with the church and a giant catrina. Notice how small the people are behind me standing next to her.

I also used my tall height to help change light bulbs and hang curtain rods, by which I was rewarded with homemade quesadillas with fresh local cheese inside upon my return home.

Ok, maybe I also used my monkey skills in addition to my height to climb onto the window sill to hang the curtains.
Can't say it was a bad view for curtain hanging!

There was no way I could have foreseen such a wonderful reward of local drink experiences, beautiful sightseeing, and some "little sister" bonding time.

I'm so glad I chose to make the difficult choice to stretch my comfort zone and put the pedal to the metal! The bonuses far exceeded the discomfort.

The Symphony Sensory Overload

Today has been a day of driving around yet again, although more driving than idling.

Being a professional classical orchestra musician, I feel, has prepared me well for today and the days to come. Why? Well, here's what is different about driving in Mexico first.

1) Driving rules are not the same in Mexico as the USA. I actually enjoy driving here much more, but I'm still constantly learning and questioning what is right and what is wrong and which rules I can stretch and which I can just outright break. Watch, try, and learn every day.

2) There are speed bumps (so tall my car drags bottom quite often even at the slowest drop) randomly with no notice often and giant potholes. Topes, as the speed bumps are called, sometimes have a road sign a few meters ahead of them. Sometimes they're painted yellow and white to stand out from the blacktop. But very often, they're just black and there is no sign so when you're driving trying to watch for everything else, well, my heart has lept into my throat more times than I care to admit.

3) Following Google Map instructions is only partially helpful. Meaning I have to listen to Google, zoom in to physically read the map, and watch all the road signs go by at the same time. Google consistently tells you to turn one road to early and doesn't understand the divided road system here so is constantly telling you to stay left or right at the Y when there is no Y and when there actually is a Y, Google almost always says to go straight!

4) Stop signs and right of way are a learned process more than they are marked. Best idea right now is to anger every driver behind me as I slow down at each intersection to figure out my particular driving rights. And most of the time it's impossible to see around the intersection until you're out in it so knowing right of way really helps, although I'm sure not always.

5) Many roads here are one-way and there may or may not be a sign painted visibly on the ground or posted on a pole or painted on a wall. I spent nearly an hour driving north on a divided road simply wanting to turn left anywhere. Google maps showed that I could but when I got to each intersection, there was a 'no left turn' sign that everyone seemed to follow so I did as well. Ended up having to wind through one-way neighborhood streets east of the road to cross the north/south bound road going west. Bloody nightmare!

6) Since I'm apartment hunting I'm a looking for "Se Renta" signs everywhere which keeps my head on a continuous swivel. As soon as I spot a sign I then need to either pull over randomly in the street or figure a way to drive back around. Either are spur of the moment decisions I hope don't end badly.

7) Investigating all the neighborhoods means I'm interested in what kind of shops and restaurants are around and how far they are from each other. It's been fun translating everything at the speed of driving. This has been my easiest task though I think.

8) In Guadalajara there are a whole lot of bicylists. Many times there are bike lanes as well which are nice and divided from the main road with concrete barriers. However, neighborhood streets don't have the bike lanes and even on the main roads, I feel like I'm the most grateful girl in the world to have a 2 door car with extra large windows. So far, no bicyclists injured in the house hunt!

9) In addition to the bicylists, there are mopeds and motorbikes everywhere. (Understandably, considering the car traffic). They drive similar to how they do in Europe (around and through all the cars). There are even patches of green at the front of the interesections for them to accumulate before the light changes. I am familiar with this and it doesn't phase me driving-wise, however, since I'm overwhelmed with looking for everything else, one still surprises me every so often. Thankfully, no motorbikers have been injured in the house hunt!

10) Parking and finding parking is an absolute nightmare. I have a long car for Mexico and that makes it even more difficult. Mostly though, there are just not many places to park. When you do find a spot, it's usually in front of a garage and you have to hunt for the no parking sign and move on. Then you find another spot but it's got a blue sign which means it's a goverment regulated spot so you have to pay for it through an app (and only the the app mind you). Since I don't have the app set up, I have to keep trying. It took me a half hour of driving around one-way streets this morning to find a parking spot for my first apartment showing. Sure glad I left early! Most important though is making sure you don't pass up any potential spot because by the time you can drive around, it will be gone. Finding the speed to drive where you can look and potentially stop, yet not anger the car trying to not park behind you is a 'fun' game I'm already tired of playing.

What it feels like trying to drive in Mexico all by myself.

So why has the years in the symphony orchestras helped me to drive here in Mexico? I believe the ability to read my music, watch the conductor, watch the section leader, watch the concertmaster, listen for doubling throughout the orchestra, listen for the melody if I don't have it, listen for the harmony and bass to perfect pitch, and also listen to myself has given me the tools to be able to simulataneously be successful in the midst of the sensory overload that is driving in Mexico.

Yes, I hit a few wrong notes or occasionally misread the conductor or concertmaster, as I occasionally drop in a pot hole or sail over a tope. But so far, my senses on high alert, my symphony of apartment hunting from the car has proved successful and extremely valuable.

Here's to making even more beautiful music in the world to come!

Holiday House Hunting

It certainly has been a unique set of events regarding my apartment hunting in Guadalajara. I arrived Sunday early evening and enjoyed a lovely night chatting with my hosts. All my research was as done as could be before heading into the actual city on Monday.

Turns out, Monday is a national holiday so everything is closed and everyone is out and about so traffic is abysmal and my lunch doesn't exist.

Also, today was the last day of the Mexican Black Friday: Buen Fin. Everyone was out to get the very last deals of the day. Whew, there are a lot of shoppers in Guadalajara! Almost felt like I was in Japan with the sidewalks and crosswalks so full they were spilling over into the streets with people.

After driving, or rather sitting, in my car for hours today, I've seen two apartments and had almost identical experiences.

I'm not a typical renter, even as an expat, in that I'm not retired, I don't have a formal job, nor do I know a land owner in Guadalajara (another city in Mexico doesn't work) which makes it apparently quite difficult to rent, even to non agencies. Both couples I visited today to see their apartments immediately retracted their generosity when they found out I didn't have the "formal" job, nor a land owner in Guadalajara to vouch for me. Both are required.

Interestingly, both gentlemen were quite willing to offer various alternatives, while both women were various levels of adamently angry with me for seemingly wasting their time and urged the rules that must be followed. Knowing I'd probably end up having to deal mostly with the women because of their ernest overtaking of the situations, I'm a little concerned with my current options.

I'm finally done with driving as far as apartment hunting goes today. I've seen quite a bit of the city and will see two more apartments tomorrow. Hopefully these will go better than those today. One is with an agency that specializes in expat situations so I'm crossing my fingers for more hospitality.

There were so many downsides to the holiday today. First was that everything is closed so getting a feel for a neighborhood is difficult because outside of Centro and a bit of Av Chapultepec, all doors were shut leaving an impression of undesireableness. Where things were open, pretty much the entire town was out walking and driving around creating a huge deadlock that is abnormal (I'm told), however, still my first (and only) impression.

Another downside was trying to eat. So many restaurants are closed that I walked an hour without finding one open and had to drives hours to a different part of the city to eat. Hours, mostly because traffic was a deadlock and I found myself on a north-bound street that didn't allow left turns for miles. Insane!

Good news is that I found a sushi and sake bar. Fried cheese and bananas, tepinyaki fish, and cold sake for me for dinner tonight! I ended back up in Chapultepec as it was at least the right direction toward home and restaurants were open when I drove through earlier in the afternoon. They aren't all open now, but at least there are a few. Thank heavens as I was really hungry!

Who knew lightly fried cheese and bananas on a stick were crazy delicious?!?!?

Meh. The appetizer was much better but my glass is almost empty :-)

One thing I have noticed that I really am excited for is the bike lanes in Guadalajara. There are actually a lot of them and bicyclists are everywhere. I'm excited to get out there without my car! If today is any indication, I'll get places much faster on a bike. Yes, if you're wondering I left my bikes in the USA. However, my couchsurfing host has a friend that is selling exactly what I need for super cheap (so I'm told) so hopefully I'll have a city bike within the week... Denny Crane in the basket on the front of course!

Still so much to do tonight to prepare for tomorrow. My host will be back at work tomorrow so I won't have my interpretter with me, which has really helped keep things short and understandable. My Spanish is just fine for a normal conversation but specific words for renting are not in my vocabulary yet. I'll be sleeping with a rotating Spanish dictionary tonight lol!

14 Hours & 12 Donuts Later

It was one of those days where I was so excited the night before I could hardly sleep. I listened to relaxing music, calmed my mind, regulated my breath, watched a chosenly mostly boring-to-me documentary to aid the mind to zoning out sleeplessness. It took a while, but I did get a few hours of delightful deep sleep and woke up ready and excited to get started on the first leg of the new adventure.

I'd already filled up the gas tank and had a 3 hour drive to the border from the north edge of San Antonio. I had looked up the Einstein Bagels around the corner from the house and Google maps said they opened at 5 a.m. so I pulled out of the driveway about 10 minutes after 5 and pulled in to find out Google maps was indeed wrong and that they were not open. I have no idea when they open, but it's definitely not 5 a.m.

Disappointed but not deterred, I continued on my way toward the Laredo border.

As I was driving through the dark, alone with my thoughts, I considered what I might do for coffee and breakfast (I was surprisingly hungry for the time of day). Realizing I was leaving the US for a possible long period of time in just a few hours, I suddenly thought, how silly of me to even consider going to Einstein Bagels when my cheating heart belongs to Dunkin Donuts.

I looked it up on Google maps and to my girlish delight, there was a Dunkin Donuts in Laredo just before I would cross the border. Yes, it was totally worth the 15 minute detour. I ordered my coffee and a breakfast sandwich and my guilty pleasure of a half dozen munchkins (half chocolate and half glazed). Grabbed the bags after it was all prepared and headed for the last fill up this side of the border (meaning a $30 or less fill up instead of $50 or higher).

It was a quick fill up and bathroom stop and I headed to the border just a mile away. The line going into the US was abysmally long by 8 a.m. when I arrived but I was eternally grateful that the line into Mexico was well, not a line. I waited behind one car to pass through the blinky camera and then chose not to go through inspections but instead just drive right into Mexico. Crossing the border took less than 5 minutes.

About to get scanned and pictured at the Laredo border.

Once in Mexico I needed to get a tourist visa and a car permit. The permit station is just across the border and there are signs to follow, in English, to find it. However....there is one small detail that is left out in the signage.

Imagine: there is a 4 lane road with a concrete divider and a turn lane at the traffic light. The sign says to U-turn to reach the permit station. Important: If you U-turn into the lane directly opposite you it is the direct line back to the USA, not the permit station. On the far side of the two opposing lanes is another 2 lane road, separated of course by a concrete barrier from the 4 lane road so if you U-turn incorrectly, it's too late to change your mind. The 2 lane road on the far side doesn't have clear designations for which direction the traffic goes and since you're U-turning into it, it appears that all the traffic is coming toward you leading to the wrong lane choice. There is also no visible signs or lines on the road to indicate traffic direction to aid the warry driver of turning choices.

Now I've done this before and I knew to U-turn down the far side 2 lane road was the correct choice, but it is so unnerving to appear to turn into direct oncoming traffic that I panicked and turned down the wrong side. As soon as I had done it I knew I'd made the same mistake I had made the very first time I crossed the border in Laredo. I also remembered finding a sneaky way down through some vacant parking lots right before the border crossing so I continued, hoping to find it. Well, I did indeed find it, but in the year and a half since I was here, some local entrepreneuring Mexicans had decided to put a chain across it and lock it. Then when it was clear a tourist was trying to find the permit station but realizing they were in the line to go back to the USA, the entrepreneuring Mexicans, dressed in reflective looking offical vests, would wave them over and show them the shortcut. Only deal is now they promise to unlock the chain and let you through for a mere $20 USD!

Since I'd already been around this rodeo I denied their ploy and drove back (the wrong way) to the turn around point and found my way correctly this time.

I made many mistakes through the permit processes that I will write an article about but suffice it to say that I spent over an hour at the offices before finalizing both my tourist visa and my car permit. Then I was able to head to the bank ATM for some pesos and hit the road again.

Partition No.1 for Immigration

One other major misstep I made that actually turned out to be nice, was having "avoid tolls" as a route option on Google maps. The toll roads between the border and major cities in Mexico are quite nice and the tolls are minimal. When I originally saw that Google maps was taking me on a round about way to Monterrey I thought there must be something on the direct route between Laredo and Monterrey. It took about a half hour down the wrong highway before my mind finally kicked in to remember that I had told Google maps to avoid toll roads. I quickly changed it but was already too far down the road to bother going back to the toll road.

I had to pick a particularly good part of the road to quickly snap a picture with only one hand on the wheel!

So I enjoyed driving down a 2-lane road that declared "no speed limit" (in Spanish of course) for a couple of hours. It was a no shoulder, bumpy and not without giant potholes road, but I gripped the steering wheel and sped along at 90 mph. About half way through the trip a road closed sign appeared and I spent 4 kilometers driving through the gravel ditch (which was where I was supposed to be driving). I was driving 40-45 mph and appreciating the fact that I have an old car that can handle the bumps and rocks and it also doesn't matter if a rock gets kicked up on it. That is, for most of the time. Had to follow, wait for it, a Jeep, going 10 mph for about 5 minutes before I could pass. Seriously, if you drive a Jeep, enjoy your off roading time and don't a) confuse those around you when you don't and b) waste your perfectly good off roading vehicle by driving like it's a Porsche.

Yes, I had to pull up on the dirt pile to let the semi truck get by. Not exactly a two-lane ditch. The actual road is up on the left.

A short interlude in my driving story to share that after I got on the road for Monterrey, I actually opened my Dunkin Donuts bags. I saw my breakfast sandwiched wrapped up but I wanted just one munchkin to spoil it first ;-)  I opened the bag of munchkins to discover 12 munchkins, 6 of each kind! I checked my receipt, and indeed, I'd only been charged for a half dozen, but had been given a full dozen. The sugar gods knew my drive ahead and had granted me a wonderful surprise of munchkins farewell. I thank them.

No caption needed!

I finally made it to Monterrey and got back on the toll roads and headed toward my second gas stop. Unfortunately the place I chose to stop was a lonely station without a price listed so I ended up paying $73 for my 13 gallons of gas. The station attendants were annoying at best asking for pens (that's a thing) and tips. I tipped the guy who washed my window and no one else which is correct but was unhappy with the harassament they showed sticking all their hands at me in the car. My second gas stop was much more normal for Mexico and was very easy and fast and courteous.

I finished my drive with the last half hour after dark. People tell you not to drive after dark in Mexico. There are various reasons. Mine is that I can't see pot holes fast enough to avoid them. There are still plenty of people out on the road and there are road lights most places, but the pot holes are deep and if you hit one, well, let's just say I don't bother getting my car aligned in Mexico. Thankfully, I hit no pot holes and pulled into my San Miguel home at 7 p.m. on the dot.

My friend was there to unlock the house, let me pee, and tell me to lock the car so we could go back to the birthday party he'd just come from. I did and froze because the birthday party was outside!! at night but I got to meet some fabulous new people and have a great time on my first night back in Mexico.

A very long table with about 30 people drinking Mezcal and eating wonderful food!

I've settled in for a few days here before finishing the journey to Guadalajara, enjoying the company of wonderful friends I consider family. After a great nights sleep I've woken early for a fantastic workout and a day enjoying the company of others followed by an afternoon to write and research before a home grilled (yes, grilled!) meal.

Moving Toward Mexico

The time is HERE. People occasionally ask if I'm really going through with it, like it's some kind of initiation or under the table risk. For real, I am moving to Mexico.

Understanding that I don't typcially think inside the box, I'll just put the remaining explanation here:

I moving to Mexico because why not.

There are pros and cons and the pros outweigh the cons. 

Pros:

1. Cheaper living
2. Part-time desireable job lined up
3. Tastier and healthier food
4. Second language immersion
5. New musical opportunities

Cons:

1. Furthur from my home if my parents need me.
2. Expensive gasoline should I be driving around the country or city.
3. Not knowing or understanding how things work like renting or job contracts.
4. Far from the USA should I need something difficult to get or imported from the US.
5. There isn't one.

There are actually a lot more pros I can think of than just those listed but even numbered lists are nice :)

I've lived in Asia and Europe and have traveled through Central and South America, but have never lived there. Moving to a new culture is always a bit of a whirlwind and gut punch all at the same time. Trying to function in a new language and new traditions and cultural expectations is daunting at best.

Yes, it's scary. Even after living in other countries and traveling many places in the Americas, it's still scary. I have no idea how much money I will be making. I don't know yet where I'll be living. I don't know a lot of anything about my immediate future.

But if I let all those unknowns turn into fear that keeps me planted in a routine of comfort and "stability", then I've lost. 

I'm here to win and taking this leap into the unknown will give me the opportunities to learn and grow and help others in more ways than I can now. 

Here's to the new adventure! To unlimited personal growth! To many more stories to share :)

Blisters Well Loved

Truth be told I shouldn't actually have these blisters. They are dance shoe blisters. I only danced for 2 hours. That's nothing.

Right now it's everything.

In the process of finding myself again I went to a monthly contra dance. I used to dance at least once every week. I used to think, if I could be anything I'd be a professional contra dancer (no, that doesn't exist). I used to travel to contra dance weekends and dance 8 hours a day for 3 days straight. Blisters weren't a thing.

A couple of years ago I made some choices that led me down a path I thought would still include contra dancing, but instead left it out. For excuses, for finances, for fun, for whatever, contra dancing just never really happened. Literally, it's been years.

It's sometimes amazing to look back and wonder how much time got past you. How did you let something so vital and beautiful out of your life for so long? I had my reasons, albeit, in hindsight, not good ones.

So tonight, I put on my dancing shoes and headed out on the floor. My shoes haven't been worn in so long the sole is actually cracked from the bottom through to the inside and I didn't know it. The elastic is so stretched out in the ankle buckle the tightest fit is no longer snug. A feeling of shock, horror, unsatisfaction with my life and decisions swept over me when I took out my dance shoes to put them on. How could I let one of the most beautiful parts of my life skip away so effortlessly?

I don't have an answer to share, but I do have a wonderful story of dance and the joy it brings and the joy it shares.

At the contra dance, there weren't many people. I was the 32nd person to show up and I was a half hour late because I got lost. (Yes I have Google maps. No, my phone is not functioning well enough to use it within a 5 minute window).

I brought my usual joy and love of dance and nothing else. I had never danced with anyone at the dance before. I hadn't danced contra in years so my confidence level was really low. After the first dance, it was coming back. My feet knew all the right moves even if my brain couldn't recall all the correct names.

People asked me where I learned to dance, how I learned to dance, and how long I'd been dancing. It blew me away.

There was an uneven number of men to women so I mustered my courage and took on the lead role, a role I was even less confident in and had danced even less in the years I danced contra consistenly. Despite the minor hiccups I noticed, my follows were happy and enthusiastic. After two dances as a lead, a young woman who wanted to learn to lead but was inexperienced and hesitant to do so agreed to lead me. After our dance I was showing her a safe way to spin a follow and as I looked out of the corner of my eye, nearly half the dancers had gathered to listen to my instruction. Again, I was blown away (in a good way).

I got ready to dance as a follow yet again and the gentleman in my square stopped to ask me how I did a particular move. Swings I have done and seen for many years and just did naturally were brand new to the group both as a lead and a follow. I got to show him how to do a simple yet beautiful swing just slightly different than the traditional.

There were two waltzes at the break and end of the dance. I typically don't like a boring waltz but it had been more years than missing contra that I had led a waltz. I didn't want to follow and I did want to waltz so that left me only the option of facing my fear head on and asking a lady to follow my lead. Both of the women I danced with told me they were very happy but what struck me most was the last waltz. The lady said she used to dance all the time and from physical complications hadn't danced in awhile. The waltz moves I did were only ones I've watched others do on the dancefloor and either asked how to do them or just picked them up by watching. But she was amazed and had so much fun. Watching her joy made my night.

I usually cause quite a ruckus when I mess around at contra dances. I kept it extremely tidy at this one, and even the teeny bit of fun I did have was looked down upon by at least one person. There's always one right?

But even with the negative looks and lack of looks or acknowledgment toward me, nothing could change the amazing energy of joy and gratitude I felt from having touched the lives of so many in a positive way. And not just for one dance, but for many to come. The moves I taught, and the tips I showed will be remembered and used to make the dance floor a more wonderful place.

What more could any "professional" contra dancer ask for? Maybe some more well loved blisters.

A Week in a Dead Lady's Home

My vision of typical trips are usually fairly planned: housing, activities, flights, even meals.

My immediate family not so much. Get in the car. Start driving. See what happens.

I'm not usually around for such road trips, but this last one I was the chauffeur. Knowing I don't sleep well, if at all, in a bed right next to my parents, I opted to try to call ahead for a couch at our destination.

I got a lot more than I bargained for!!

My family is friends with the people I called for a couch; pretty good friends I would say. So they did what good friends do: offer the dead lady's house down the street so we can all sleep for free.

Now on the outset this actually sounded like a good deal: a fully furnished house with a couple of rooms so we can sleep peacefully, cook, and live comfortably. The lady hadn't been dead that long so how bad could it be?

Home for the week. Think I won't try to park the car in the garage...

Well, old lady smell aside, the house hadn't been lived in for years. I didn't realize that several years before she died, she'd moved out of the house into a facility elsewhere. With the house not occupied and cleaned only 3 or 4 times a year, it was a much different experience than expected. She also hadn't touched the house since it was built. It was amazing to walk in to another world. The dirt floor root cellar, the 6'garage ceiling, the settled and cracked and uneven floors, the "white" carpet in the bathroom, the orange carpet on the stairs, the two prong outlets on the walls preventing me from charging some of my devices, the kitchen faucet that shut off by moving the handle all the way to either side instead of straight down, the radio vs TV in the living room. Oh, and the snake skin casually hung on the garage wall!

Yes, I ducked every time I walked in to the garage! 

Fishing pole, fishing pole, grill brush, snakeskin...wait, what?!

There was white mold covering most of the hardwood doors and chairs so no closing the bathroom door! Fortunately the kitchen chairs were lacquered and didn't have the mold growing the rest of the wood around the house did so we had someplace to delicately sit.

The dust level was unreal. The house was due for it's tri-anuual cleaning so layers of dust covered everything. Because everything was so dusty and moldy, we chose to forego cooking and lived off of our travel food and our daily dinner out in town. So much for cooking.

Thankful it was free and I wasn't sleeping in a bed next to my parents, I unpacked the car cooler into the fridge (which had been plugged in that day), took off the top blanket on the bed gingerly and laid it aside, stripped the bed and "washed" the sheets in hot water but without soap, and chose not to unpack my backpack, but to instead live out of it for the week to try to keep everything in it a little cleaner.

That first night was a long one. Sleeping on an ancient, rock hard, and seemingly smaller than twin size bed with a pillow full of unknowns that rustled every time you moved made sleeping difficult. I also froze without the blanket :(  At least I got to listen to the chorus of coyotes, owls, crickets, and other creatures outside my window. That indeed was pleasant (I am a country girl after all).

The "doorway" to my room.
Note the "step" down even though the floor is supposed to be level.

The next morning, I awoke to discover the fridge doesn't actually get cold. My milk was spoiled and I was worried for the yogurt and cheese so I plugged the car cooler into the wall (thankfully it's a two prong cord) and put all the cold stuff back inside that was still salvageable. I also woke up sneezing constantly. I would barely get to the trash can to throw away the tissue before I needed the next one. By the end of the week my voice was croaking every morning and I had nasty sinus pressure along with the incessant sneezing.

The "fun" part of the adventure was the lack of cell service and wi-fi. Of course no dead lady's house will have wi-fi in it and we were out in the country (think gravel roads and a house every few miles) so no stealing wi-fi from the business next door or asking the neighbors to use theirs for the week. It was also non existent cell service in the house. It seemed that way in every house so this one was no exception. I use AT&T towers so expected service and totally received it...every time I stepped outside. Yes, if I actually set my phone against the window in the kitchen it would eventually pick up the signal, but I couldn't pick the phone up to use it and keep the signal.

Walking the country road to get some wi-fi!

I did sit on the front steps a little while, but the bugs!!!  Unmown grass and country life breed bugs and insects of many varieties and with no one living there to keep it in some form of check, every critter was moving in and I disturbed them stepping outside the front door. I actually got ants in my pants! :-O

So to say the least, I spent very little time outside to use my cell phone and had to go to the neighboring house (which luckily was only a half mile walk or so) to get some country wi-fi (read not Google Fiber) service.

Lots of wonderful visits happened and I enjoyed my time away from the house that week. I hope it's a long time, if ever again, in my future when I spend a week in a deserted dead lady's house.

Country Road, Take Me Home

Lustfully Wandering Seeming Aimlessly

Life has turned totally tipsy and not in that happy feeling after a couple of tequila shots way, but in that rather unnerving uh-oh, what is going to happen next kind of way.

A couple of years ago I decided to give landlubbering a try again and truth be told, I should have probably not been so foolish since I've learned my lesson before, but I plunged ahead regardless to prior knowledge. Accordingly, it didn't go so swimmingly well and I've been floundering around ever since.

About a year ago, in the midst of swimming headlong upstream, a most unique occurrence happened ~ I acquired a dog. I only acquired a dog in the sense that I now take care of it, but not in the traditional sense of choosing a dog, wanting a dog, nor looking for a dog and dog ownership. This dog decided it was in his best interest that I be the one and only human on planet earth worth his constant attention. Now this little guy is great, fantastic, a joy to play with, and very well trained. However, he's also extremely, highly, completely, utterly, and totally dependent on my existence. What does one do on land with a dog such as this: a dog that could care less about food, toys, treats, the rest of the human population unless I am visibly in the room and obviously staying there?

That's an honest question, as I have yet to find the answer.

So a year after acquiring said dog, I'm doing what all lost children do that have a new child and need help; I've moved in with the best built in baby sitter, Mamaw. How long will I stay? I don't know. Life is limbo.

What I do know is this:

• The last job I had on cruise ships no longer exists (again).
• My long time job (15 yrs) in the Arkansas symphony is teetering on non existent.
• I've got a dog with severe separation anxiety that hasn't improved with any method tried.
• I don't have a giant nest egg of funds to support myself indefinitely.

So, after pursuing a temporary job, a long term flexible job, and other random wandering ideas that have slammed shut rather effectively in my face, I've finally accepted my pre-term midlife crisis.

Since I was a child I have wanted nothing more than to play music for a living. I've done that successfully and unsuccessfully ever sense. The scene has changed and I've barely kept up with it until now. Fewer and fewer cruise ships want classical groups and the major one I worked for years ago, now tells the musicians what to play, when to play, and how to play the music. The following of supporters I amassed was from getting to know my audience each cruise, playing what they liked and how they liked it. Performing as a robot doesn't win the audience on cruises (as the reviews for the new groups have shown) nor is it a desirable way to work for me.

Symphony orchestra on land have been my bread and butter between cruise ship gigs. These orchestras are financially suffering like all the others, and the remedy for that is to hire more people locally even if they're not professional. It saves thousands of dollars to not pay mileage and hotel costs for so many musicians to travel in for the concert and rehearsal week. Unfortunately, I don't want to live in any of the cities that would require me to stay. Nor would the income generated by performing there support me in any way living locally instead of traveling from hotel room to hotel room (no rent to pay). So the job I've loved and had for so long is no longer really able to hire me except on occasion.

What in the world am I going to do?

With the support of friends and family, I've chosen to make a drastic change. I have no idea what the outcome will be and if I'll be successful, but I'm going to give it the best shot I can. 

From full time musician to travel writer and tour guide.

At the Beach!

Dali Museum Tour

Hard at work in a local coffee shop.