Tag Archives: living in Mexico

November 27, 2015 · 7:00 am

Learning Gratitude

Immigration and decidedly one-sided historical manipulation aside, Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. To me, it was about grandma’s lumpy potatoes and my cousins swinging from the tire swing in the gigantic oak tree in the back. It was a time for my family to gather together in one place, under one roof, if just for the day. It was about taking time for gratitude in our oh-so busy lives.

Well, the Pilgrims never made it to Mexico having pretty much died out the first year in the New World. And since they didn’t, Thanksgiving isn’t a holiday here. My first Thanksgiving here was rough. I cried. The second wasn’t much better. I missed having that day set aside for family. And although Mexico has several family orientated holidays (Children’s Day, Mother’s Day, Navidad) it just hasn’t been the same.

This will be my 9th Thanksgiving here in Mexico. I’ve tried to recreate the holiday in my new country on several occasions. Overall they have been dismal failures. Frozen turkey is over $500 pesos and completely out of our budget. We tried raising our own one year (See Mr. and Mrs. Turkey) but that didn’t work out very well either. Roast chicken and mashed potatoes were the best I could provide–with the ever-present risk of the gas running out mid-chicken. Pumpkin pie filling was hard to come by. Growing our own pumpkins would have worked out ok, but the pumpkins that grow here aren’t those orange ones I was used to. Oh, the list goes on and on.

This year I’m not even going to try to recreate Thanksgiving. I have to work anyway. But the part of the holiday that I can maintain is taking the time to express my gratitude to whoever or whatever may be for my life in Mexico.

I am thankful that for 6 years, my husband was able to be the primary caregiver for our son. I often worked during the day and my son went to school in the afternoon, so he and dad took care of the house and animals. (See Why we chose to send our son to elementary school) We all enjoyed our days. Unfortunately, secondary school has put a wrench into our easy schedule, but I am grateful for the time we had and hope that we can finagle the schedule to our liking again in the near future.

I am thankful for the numerous business ventures we have had that failed. I know that sounds crazy, but our family quest for gainful employment has encompassed nearly 9 years so far. We finally have something (or rather some things) that more or less works, but in the event of yet another failure, well, no worries. We’ll find something else.

I am thankful for the opportunity to build our home. (See Building a dream–Constructing a Life) It has been frustrating at times mostly because the progress is SOOOO slow, but like Thoreau wrote, I feel that “There is some of the same fitness in a man’s building his own house that there is in a bird’s building its own nest.“

I am thankful for the hardship of living in Mexico. Things that I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at in my own community require mental and physical exertion here, more than I ever dreamed of. It’s not just the blatantly difficult things in my life, like doing laundry in the arroyo (See After Ecstasy, the Laundry), or eeking out an existence by sharecropping. It’s the superficially simple things that really get me, like going to a doctor for a check-up (See Seguro Popular–a model of inefficiency), buying tortillas, ordering meat at the carniceria, taking the bus…the list goes on and on. These hardships have honed and shaped me into the Super Woman I am now. I have confidence that I never knew I possessed as I sashay about town on my moto now. I am Woman–hear me roar! Si se puede! That is, on my good days. (See A Night At the Movies) Other days I can just manage to pull on my big girl panties and get’r done.

I am thankful for the AHA! moments Mexico has given me. The sound of the wings of a thousand birds flying in formation, the slow waddle of the dung beetle with its ball of poo, the jeweled hummingbird feeding from the wild klip dagga flower, the clouds of butterflies…it’s like being on the nature channel. I would never have had these experiences in any other place.

I am thankful for the lessons I have learned along the way and those that I have yet to learn. I have learned that I can not impose my will on others (See You can Lead a Horse to Water…). I have learned that all things must die (See When someone dies) but that remembrance allows for a life beyond death (See El Dia de Los Muertos). I’ve learned that it’s ok to fail. (See Failing at Your Own Business) but it’s never ok to give up. I’ve learned about my own emotions from our animals (See Running the Emotional Gamut) and rather unpleasant truths about people (See Hate Thy Neighbor). Oh, I can’t even imagine what more life has in store for me!

And lastly, I am thankful for having the opportunity to share our adventures and disasters with you, Reader, so that I will not be one of those who “lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them” when all is said and done.

Amen

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Filed under Carnival posts, Cultural Challenges

Tagged as living in Mexico, what is life like in rural Mexico

October 16, 2015 · 7:45 am

Some days are definitely better than others–Ni modo

Yesterday was one of those days that a series of annoying happenstances made a typical day (one with only two or three annoying happenstances) seem like paradise.

We woke up at 5 am. My son’s new school schedule demands it. We are not pleased about getting up before the sun, but we remind ourselves that it is only temporary. Secondary school is 2 more years, so a long temporary, but temporary. Ni modo. (This expression can be translated as It’s no big deal, That’s just the way things are, That’s just how it is, There’s nothing we could have done about it, There’s nothing we can do or Whatever.)

Of course, the day started out on the wrong foot when we realized there wasn’t any water to shower with. Ni modo. My husband generously went outside and filled a bucket from the ajibe (dry well) for my son and me to wash with. The water was cold. It is the middle of October after all. We could only bear to wash our heads, but even that was unpleasant, although it was enough to wake us up completely. The rest of the parts would have to wait until we could get a truckload of water delivered. (See Water Woes) After all, there was deodorant…oh but hold on, both my son and I were out, and my husband refuses to buy his own (he just uses ours). Well, a-stinky we shall go. Ni modo.

During the day, my son lost 2 pesos and therefore, didn’t have enough money for a torta (sandwich) at lunch. As food is life for a growing pre-teen, that made his school day less than optimal, and by mid-afternoon he was irritable. Ni modo.

My day was also annoying. Although I had enough money for lunch, I spent the morning working on the grades for report cards, which is not my favorite task. I dislike assigning a number value to learning, so I had gone out of my way to make the job more difficult for myself by grading everything from attendance and school supplies to the “exams.” All in all, it ended up to be 15 separate evaluations for each student. Ni modo.

I also had a slightly heated discussion with the school director over some proposed changes I wanted to make in classroom management. When my emotions are high, my Spanish is low, so it made the whole process even more frustrating. Ni modo.

In the early afternoon, my hungry and cranky son arrived, and we headed to the store to buy some deodorant. I bought 3 and each cost more than 50 pesos. Fifty pesos is what I earn for one hour of teaching. So I had worked more than 3 hours to buy that particular hygiene product for my family. Ni modo.

From there we went home. The house was a wreck–dirty dishes piled sky high. My husband had an unexpected morning job, so didn’t have time to tidy up. Ni modo, I would do the dishes. So I stacked and sorted and was ready to begin—only to be reminded when I went to turn on the water, that there was no water. Duh! Ni modo. The dishes would have to wait.

OK, time for dinner. We looked high and low, and there wasn’t anything prepared, although there were fresh tortillas. As my husband typically prepares something for his lunch and then leaves enough for us to eat when we get home—this seemed odd and aggravating. Ni modo. Back to town for something quick and easy, ham and cheese for quesadillas.

I returned home and lit the stove–blue flames swooshed out! It appeared that we were dangerously low on gas. Just great! Fortunately, there was just enough to heat the tortillas and melt the cheese–so dinner was saved.

After we had eaten, I continued straightening the kitchen. I went to throw a bit of leftover rice to the chickens but didn’t, realizing that I would be walking into a den of iniquity! What to my wondering eyes did I see but there in the new addition to the goat corral that my husband is working on–was Tinkerbell humping Stinky Chivo while one of the James brothers was humping her. Something was very wrong with the picture. Why was Stinky Chivo not doing his husbandly duties when it was apparent that Tinkerbell was in heat? (See Goat Genetics)

Upon closer examination, I found that Stinky Chivo’s head and leg are stuck in the food trough. Great! As his horns were wedged under the wire and he has some big horns, it took some maneuvering to release him.

The bondage and sexual scandal were not the only evidence of debauchery. The goats had taken the liberty of stripping the peach and pomegranate trees of leaves and bark. Not bad for a morning’s work. It’s their nature I suppose–Ni modo.

So later my husband explained that he didn’t leave dinner because it had been stolen. He had arrived home for lunch with meat and tortillas and heard some commotion in the goat corral. He went to investigate, leaving the goods hanging from his motorcycle handlebars. When he came back out front, only the tortillas remained. He had bought 60 pesos of meat, so that means more than an hour of work for someone or something to enjoy the meal. I suspect it was Chokis. Ni modo.

That evening, after the goats were rounded up again and the horses stabled, we realized we still had no gas to cook supper or anything to cook for that matter. Ni modo. There was nothing to be done but head out for some tacos. Our high-stress day was made all the better with a few tacos de tripa, bistek or chorizo (depending on the family member) and some nopales (cactus) and onions sauteed in grease. Our meal cost $150 pesos, which is a day and a half of work for my husband, so we were appreciative of this particular treat.

Ni modo. Nothing to be done but hit the sack and hope that tomorrow will be better.

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