Mexican World Review

I agreed to rent a 2-bedroom house today. The couple that owns it will send me the contract later this afternoon. 6-month lease. 12,500 pesos/month, which is 610 USD at the current exchange rate. It is a detached house with a parking space behind a garage door. The parking space will serve as my patio.

The couple’s family owns the houses on both sides.

The neighborhood is close enough to my current neighborhood that my supermarket will stay the same. The house would rent for about 1500 USD/month in my current neighborhood. My future neighborhood is a little more undiscovered, I suppose, and it has some low-income dwellings, mechanic shops and junk yards mixed in. It must be the most socioeconomically heterogeneous area I’ve ever seen. It has a few tin shacks as well as houses listed for 250,000 USD.

I’ve spent a lot of time the past few days walking around in the neighborhood, and sitting on the curb near the house I’ll be renting to gauge the traffic. The street has very little through traffic.

The new place has a much better kitchen than my current apartment, and has a washer and dryer in the house. The house is fronted by a high concrete wall. So you go through a metal door — or through the garage door — to get past that wall, and then there is a short walkway leading to the front door of the house.

I was in a car today for the second time since I moved here. The first time was the cab ride from the bus station when I first arrived on January 1. This time I was leaving to take a walk, actually to go look at a neighborhood where I might rent a house, and before I got to the end of the block my landlord Martha and her friend Margarita pulled up alongside me in an SUV and told me to get in. They would give me a ride to wherever I was going. I said “I’m going that way,” and pointed. I figured they weren’t likely going that way. They said OK, get in, we’ll give you a ride. So we left the immediate neighborhood and started heading toward the neighborhood I planned to visit, but then they began talking about an exciting new shopping mall they hadn’t yet seen, and her friend was like, “let’s go see the new stores,” and asked if I wanted to come. I said OK, and we drove to the new mall. I think their plan before picking me up was to go out to dinner somewhere, but the new plan was to go see the mall. Along the way my landlord spoke in Spanish and her friend, who was driving, spoke in English at first. I gathered she was visiting from Florida. They told me they met in school in 1962, presumably in Mexico. A little while later Martha told her friend to speak in Spanish so I could practice. We passed the place where I had a taco earlier that day and I pointed it out. They talked about how expensive it was to go the movies in America and so on.

We arrived at the mall and Martha said to pull into the parking lot but her friend said it would be more exciting to enter from the other side of the mall, so we continued another couple of blocks then pulled into the parking area, where we came to a gate with a sign telling us we needed to pay to park. But the sign also said you could park for free if you were there less than a half hour and you got your ticket validated. So we decided to park and go inside to see it, and get the ticket validated. Once inside we asked what store could validate the ticket and a mall greeter suggested the grocery store. The mall was very much a mall, an indoor mall like in the old days, with a cinema and so on, everything very new. Though an American mall wouldn’t have a large grocery store inside. We went to the grocery store and there a greeter told us we needed to spend 100 pesos in the store to get the ticket validated, so we went in and Martha and Margarita started talking about what they could buy for 100 pesos. We walked around a bit and got some food, splitting up at times and reconvening. Then we left, and they talked a bit about how rude the workers at the checkout were, and they they talked about politics a bit but I didn’t understand any of it. In the car Martha gave me three of her tomatoes and all the bananas she bought. Oh, and Margarita said now that they’re old they should get one of those carts old people push around. Martha didn’t seem to like the idea. I almost told them in America we call that a granny cart, but I was a little tired from listening to Spanish so I didn’t say anything.

Back in Martha’s neighborhood they dropped me off at the lavanderia, where I had some clothes to pick up. I got out and thanked Martha for the tomatoes and was going to leave the bananas in the car, because I wasn’t sure I understood correctly when she gave me the bananas earlier. But she said “and your bananas,” so I took those as well.

It’s a spontaneous blog post. Baba Rrahra Ra ra Tooof. Can you tell it’s a spontaneous blog post. Briggetta kickooo. You can tell from the strange noises.

I became a ZZ Top fan a couple days ago. Wasn’t expecting that. They have 6 albums with Spanish titles. Like, ok guys, we get it, there’s spanish in Texas.

I also rediscovered the band Helmet. I had forgotten all about them. They’re better than I remember. They might be the best metal band.

I can’t stop eating large chocolate-covered cookies for pre-breakfast. Then for breakfast I have canned salmon sandwiches. I switched from mayo to a combination of sesame oil and soy sauce in my salmon salad. And the usual chopped celery, onions and carrots. It’s a little perverse because a can of salmon in the grocery store costs the same as a fish taco at my new favorite fish taco place. But sometimes I want to eat at home. I pay extra to make my own sandwich.

I admit I got a warm homey feeling from some commerce. I received an Amazon delivery of reading glasses and a heating pad. Like all heating pads, it’s too hot on the lowest setting. So you have to put a couple layers of towel or blanket between you and the heating pad.

The temperature here is no longer an issue for me at all. The air is sometimes an issue. There have been 4 times since I arrived on Jan 1 when I couldn’t go outside. One was due to smoke from wildfires. (The very next day the air quality was excellent.) One time it was due to awful morning air quality that had no obvious cause. That cleared up by the afternoon. The very next morning it was bad again, but not as bad, and that cleared up by noon. And there was one day when it was just very gusty and so there was a lot of dust flying through the air.

Many, many people wear masks in this town, including on days when the air quality is excellent. So I don’t quite understand that. Though even on the best days, passing trucks can be an issue if you walk along the main arteries. I’m not sure how much masks help with that. Probably some. Young women might wear them to discourage men from hitting on them. It does seem like masks are most popular with young women. Though I do see old men and women wearing them. Yeah, they’re fairly popular across demographics.

Uhlubbbbubba gubba. I’m still being spontaneous in this blog post. Grugga splew spuleww; inchy binkle.

Oh, there is a nearby house for sale in an appealing location so I’ve been fantasizing, but will try to hold off at least until they lower the price. If they do. Supposedly it can take several months to sell a house in Mexico. It would of course make no sense for me to buy a house right now, and probably will make no sense in a few months. I’ll just keep focusing on all the reasons to not buy a house in Mexico. But if it’s still on the market in a few months and they drop the price 15%, I could see making an offer 10% below that level. Maybe I’ll look at it. Or if they drop the price, I’ll then look at it. It needs some work and is next door to a vacant lot, so maybe it will be hard to sell. On the other hand, it’s in a dreamy part of town. Very close to where I’m staying.

I had the most incredible dream (keep reading, it will turn out to not be a dream at the end). I lived in a hilly place with beautiful money. The houses were all castles with deep colors like clay. Blue clay, green, etc. It was ringed with mountains but also with giant ships. It was placid but also lush with sudden commerce around some corners. Spacious and dense. A kind of sports complex appeared abruptly, maybe two minutes’ walk from my house. In it were batting cages, pool tables, tennis courts, etc. Directly across from it were bowling alleys.

The architecture recursed and bubbled like a coral reef, like clay crystals. Birds appeared from invisible envelopes. Dogs barked from behind gates. Other dogs walked serenely in the streets, as if they remembered my last dream. Iron bars were thinking. It was all beautiful in the way that something can only be if it wasn’t as beautiful before, kind of like dating. The morning breathed because, well, of course it did. It’s what they do. I went back inside, then I went back outside, then I went inside, then back outside. Like I could start it over at will. As you can see, lots of obvious clues that it was just a dream. It had those sorts of lucid elements. That faint ebbing sense that you will wake from it, that lets you hold it all the way around.

I went back out to see it again, but of course things had already changed, not for better or worse necessarily. It had that in-your-face neutrality.

A bird sat on the spire of a fir tree and honked. In the middle distance the mute profile of a billboard. Palm trunks grew at diagonals with just a tiny amount of leaves at the tops. A cursive sign announced vacancies. Some people sat in their cars doing nothing, some alone and some in twos. Oh, I was a Mexican! I almost forgot. A chihuahua sat on an overstuffed chair beneath a concrete awning. Flowers poured from walls. Houses where I had just stood looked down from cliffs. But it was all just reality.

The reason people cite their own and others’ privilege over and over, ad infinitum, is not because it works, but because it doesn’t work. It doesn’t provide the hoped for prophylactic against the feelings of guilt we have for being alive in a world where abhorrent things occur.

But we’re desperate. We cast about. We put lemon juice in our cuts and think… at least it hurts.

I think I am deciding to stay here, in this apartment. I have looked around town and I like this neighborhood. It has centrality and also proximity to the water. It is quiet.

And this apartment has great light, great air and an incredible landlord. All utilities are included and my host can’t seem to stop piling on extras. Today she offered to do my laundry for free henceforth, though I’ve been happy with the nearby laundry service so I said I wouldn’t allow it.

I think I would consider buying this apartment if I could, but I’m realizing I don’t need to. I could live here for 10 years if I wanted, paying weekly rent.

Also, there are two other apartments atop this house that are often empty, so if/when I have visitors those will probably be available. Which means I don’t need a 2-bedroom place.

it’s raining this morning and it feels like Christmas.

a steady rain.  That’s an odd expression.  Right as rain is not odd. It’s one of my favorites, along with the eyeball is the straightest tool on the job.

curtains billow.  A couple days ago the air was very bad outside due to nearby wildfires.  Now the wildfire map shows much less activity in Baja, though I see there are still several fires near Los Angeles.

such rain sounds!  I haven’t heard this since I’ve been here.

I’m not lonely.  That seems to be a leading concern people have.  They think I will forget to interact with people.  But I’ve interacted with people more this month than I would have had I been in USA.  I have no fears of loneliness here.  

the only thing that has at times felt lonely is that I’m in a good mood whilst I imagine people in my former country aren’t in a good mood. Don’t tell me anything about that.  Don’t even tell me you’re not telling me. 

the other day my host said I’m looking much better than when I arrived.  To review:  (1) last summer she said I looked like a model, (2) when I arrived January 1 she said I was pale and gaunt, and indeed I had lost 10 lbs in the intervening 6 months, (3) last week she said my color was back and I look much better. She seemed to attribute the improvement to Mexico, and Mexican cuisine, which is fair.  I attribute it to food but more so to not being in a constant hurry, and not renovating a house 7 days/week.

aside from this rain my favorite sounds have been the crowds and officiating at the nearby sports venue, which has some kind of sporting activity on weekends, I assume it’s soccer.  and the boat horns.

one day when I was watching American football there was an event at the nearby sports field and I could hear chants of En-sen-nad-a, En-sen-nad-a, En-sen-nad-a.  So it must have been a contest between this town and another, rather than between local high schools.  Please don’t be like, “Ryan you have to get over there and see the sports!”  I’ve been here less than a month and there are lots of things still left to do/see.  I’m not trying to do eight things per day.  Thanks for your patience.

when you notice you’re having a thought, change one word in the thought to its opposite. Or reverse a “not.” Nine times out of ten, the thought will ring truer. Make it a habit, a reflex. Do it many times a day if you can, or just once a day.

then you begin to unwire yourself.

it’s a shortcut to insight that doesn’t require energy. Because it doesn’t really require any effort to change a word to its opposite. It can be done in an instant, sometimes before the expected thought has even run its course. You can start to notice what thought you’re having before you finish it, maybe before you start it.

if you’re about to think “freedom isn’t free,” try “freedom is free” instead. It might be truer, or just as true. Maybe it has to be free.

we only retain what comes with great difficulty? We only retain what comes with ease.

we become less beholden to our usual programming. We become entirely unbeholden.

the weather here today. the breezes thickened up. the balcony is more the place to be than before.

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here is this little citrus tree in the neighbor’s yard.

and here is this picture of this blog post on the balcony.

There is no chance at all of this town being overrun by Americans.  The parts of town that are beautiful enough for me, perhaps very beautiful, would look ugly to most Americans.  And the industrial sections that look ugly to me, would look like hell, not even briefly tolerable, to most Americans.  So I am very safe in that regard.  

If I thought the town might be attractive to a lot of Americans, I would feel like I have to hurry up and buy a place in the next year or two.  But there is definitely no such hurry, not even remotely.  For as long as I live, I don’t think many Americans, or Canadians for that matter, would consider living here.

I suppose the only danger would be if people found out John Densmore, Ray Manzarek and Jim Morrison have a polka band here.  The place would then be overrun.  But I could shout it from the mountaintops and no one will ever believe me.  They could probably perform nightly in public for a few weeks before it became even a small problem.