What a difference that time makes

Baby steps.

After a few years of wondering in the desert. Lots of prayer and listening to God. We are back.

We are in the throws of purchasing our 2nd property in Mexico.  Land. High land with a view of the Ocean. Near enough to enjoy its beauty. Far enough to avoid her wrath.

Plans and money haunt my thoughts.  Dreams are far sweeter.

It's a long story. To be written in small yet detailed post. Far more interesting to me than you I am sure. Regardless. It is a story.

Plans. Yes, lots of planning.

Stuck

I feel stuck.

The economy in America is bad and the violence in Mexico is worse.

Stuck.

My dreams of living in Mexico are overshadowed by the constant killings and lack of Government control in Mexico. Over control in America.

I do have hope. Mexicans have felt stuck for hundreds of years. Stuck with oppressive Governments and Rulers. They finally rise up and over come the bad guys. But will it happen again? Will it happen for America too? The bad guys lose the battle, but they usually raise an army for another war.

I am nearly 50 and my back hurts. I don't feel stuck with that, just an observation and a possible metaphor about feeling stuck. I get stuck in bed in the morning not being able to move because of the back pain.

Fear never stops me, but until lately, I was young enough to recover from financial folly. It is more important today at 49 that I weigh my decisions more carefully. Hence why I feel stuck.

I always weigh the pros and cons and come to a rational decision. But I don't know if I have true information or if it is just fear and lies.

Something random. I was stung by a bee while driving my motorcycle last week. I have thought that I am allergic to bees. There were no shoulders to pull over so I had to power through the pain and fear of going into shock. 30 minutes later, I was fine. Yes, the sting still hurt like crazy, but I was breathing and riding.

Was God sending me a message? To be sceptical of what people have told me? (both of my parents are allergic to bees) To stay focused, driven and believing in His power; and that I do not have to fear.

Arizona has never been home.

It was never meant to be home.

Only a way point on our journey from Alaska to Mexico.

When we moved from Alaska to Arizona we owned a beautiful ocean front lot in Troncones, GRO Mexico. Our house plans had been approved by the local officials and the funds were ready to go. Then we made a critical decision to sell to the owners of the neighboring lot and invest the funds here in Arizona. Both proved to be good moves financially, but when things fell apart here in AZ in 2006 and we got stuck.

Last night I dreamt of a huge snake that was threatening my kids and cats. It was coiled under my office chair. I have never feared snakes. I respect them, but I always catch and release. Venomous or not, they are all treated the same. In my dream, a huge rattle snake grabbed my cat Gordy by the head. I wrestled my cat from the snake and spoke words of healing over him. Gordy immediately stopped spasming and walked away. I then snatched the snake from behind it's head and put him in a bucket and capped it with a top. Dream over.

I woke up with a back ache, went outside in the beautiful morning and admired my new Lady Bank's Roses. They are vigorous climbers and do not have thorns, so I wont get... stuck.

I totally believe God is working in me concerning this issue. Yeah God! I so want to move to Mexico.

.

21 bud salute

I am fascinated with things that are both lovely and dangerous at the same time.















A short list is as follows:

Guns

Motorcycles

Alaska

Airplanes

Mexico

Sushi

Scuba Diving

Datura


Datura- A flowering plant that is part of the potato family. Also a Nightshade. Highly toxic if ingested. Has been used for centuries in ritualistic settings and for healing. Also called Belladonna and if you get toxin on your hand and rub your eye, your pupils will be dilated for quite a long while. Women did this on purpose during some long ago time as a beauty enhancement.















The first time I saw a Datura, it was along side of the road one summer. I first noticed this fast growing vine that sprouted almost overnight. Right in a spot that a Javalina had been smashed the spring before.









Within about 15 days, it had HUGE white trumpet flowers, but they seem to wilt as soon as they blossomed.




I looked up the plant based on the description and became very interested in it. That was 10 years ago and until this July, I have been just content to spot one on occasion while travelling around.






This July found us in Elgin, AZ (wine country) for a 5K race that Keith and our youngest daughter were running in. There was Datura everywhere. So I begged Keith to dig me up a root to take home. We only had a butter knife that I snitched from the B & B. He did not cover his hands, but I made sure he washed them vigorously and I got rid of the knife.



I came home and put the bare root in the planter and within a few days, she came back to life.



She has blessed me with 21 little buds. She blossomed for the first time 2 nights ago, but that bloom did not even make it until morning.




These photos were taken last night around 7PM. She is trying to attract the Sphinx Moth for some sexy plant pillow talk, but she will also settle for a bat. I noticed today that our local hummingbird crew is very interested in her as well, but I have not seen them feeding.




This variety I have is a wild sort. Also called Jimsom Weed. But there are other more tropical colorful versions that I envy and will have once we move to Mexico.






A great fictional book to read that Datura has a leading roll in is Hot House Flower-9 plants of desire. It takes place mostly in the Yucatan and is entertaining. It wont rock your world with insight and knowledge, but it is exciting and easy.


That's all I have to say about that...

A one way ticket to Africa.

I have been a bit distracted for the last month or so.









Our youngest daughter (here she is at 10 years old, her birthday outfit. Taken from our home in Auke Bay, Alaska.) is on a flight right now to Africa. With a one way ticket.









She will be working and living at an orphanage for at least 3 weeks, but may stay longer.









This child is a work of art. God was in a very whimsical mood when He created her. Probably the same day He created Rainbows and Koala Bears.









At 25 years old, she has travelled most of the world and has owned her own business and home. She was born in Alaska, so she has that "why wouldn't I do that" sort of attitude.









However, this trip she is going solo. And that is both a moment for us to be proud and terrified.









She has spent the last 7 weeks with us here in Scottsdale preparing for this trip. Well, I have been preparing, she has been buying stuff and eating as much Taco Bell as she could.







Although the trip begins in Africa, she will go on to Prague for a month or more to take a course on teaching English as a foreign language and then to South Korea to teach. Or wherever her travelling feet (or wings) take her.









People love her. We love her.









So here's to you sweet child. May you see all there is to see in this great world. We miss and adore you.









Cheers!


(here she is this July in Elgin, Arizona. Wine Country, she has Keith ran a 5K race as a team for Keif-Joshue Vineyards)

Dog Bite

Sorry. Its been way too long.

So, on July 16th I was bitten on the leg by a dog.

Bad. Like an attack. Ouch. Bled like a stuck pig.

Lots of shots and antibiotics over the next 30 days to follow.

Much better now.

Except for the new fear of dogs.

And bruises and scars.

Sucks.

I like cats much more now.

El Camino Real y La Lucuna

I love to read. Most of my pleasure reading is centered around Mexico. This weekend I checked out 2 books from the library. This top one, The Royal Road is a beautiful picture and text book about the road between Mexico City as far North to Santa Fe. Very interesting and I learned a great deal. The photos are wonderful and the history is more exciting than fiction.

WARNING! Shameless photo of Gordy in the background being cute. He spends most of his leisure time on his back watching me read, cook and Blog.

The other book I read was The Lucuna, a Novel by Barbara Kingsolver. Interesting writing style and one of those books that contain fiction and fact. I call them Faction. " takes us on an epic journey from Mexico City of Artist Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo to the America of Pearl Harbor, FDR and J. Edgar Hoover, The Lacuna is a poignant story of a man pulled between 2 nations as they invent their modern identities." I loved this book and devoured it in 3 days.

This guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gordy pouted the rest of the day when he had to go inside while his catch made his escape.

The above books are excellent reads. Now I await notification from the Library that my other choices are ready to be picked up. Until then I surf the web gleaning what ever I can about the country of Mexico.

Tis the Season...

for baby quail that is.

This little guy was found by Gordy our cat on the patio late yesterday afternoon.

Gordy did not harm him, he was just watching and trying to smell him, but I understand at this age, they have no scent. Cats wont eat what they cannot smell. Good thing for this baby.

I put him in a box and went looking for the parents. We had the same thing happen last year and we were able to reunite the family.

2 hours passed without the parents making an appearance. Although this baby PEEP PEEPED like crazy, there was no answer.

We ended up taking him to the Quail Rescue lady just 5 miles west of us.

She said that "Pip Squeak" was less than 24 hours long and she put him in one of her many incubators.

There were hundreds of baby quail and many other birds there as well.

Peacocks, Killdeer, Love Birds, Dove and even a Conure. Amazing that she runs this place all on her own and as a volunteer.

Lots of babies get separated from their folks right now. She raises them until they are able to go it on their own and then releases them.

She does a a few adults that are pets now and she takes them to schools and programs.

When we arrived, there were 2 other babies being dropped off as well.

I thought Gordy found another one this morning, but rather he had found a HUGE lizard that I wanted to survive, so I snatched the cat up and he is pouting inside now.

My Mexican Grill

Well Dang, it's been a while.

I wish I could say that I have been soooo busy that I have not had anytime to write. Actually I just have not a lot to say.

Although I have been to Mexico and I have lots of those photos and memories, I have yet to organize an original thought how to Blog about it.

I could also write about the new Senate Bill 1070 here in Arizona and suspect that I would get lots of feedback.

You can read it here
http://www.azleg.gov/legtext/49leg/2r/bills/sb1070s.pdf

I have read the law. I support the law. Nuf said.

Anyway, while in Nayarit last month, I was fortunate to spend a few days in remote locations that had me grilling on rustic stone and brick charcoal grills. I fell in love.

So being the most wonderful husband in the world, my husband offered to build me one.

When we moved onto this acre property in Scottsdale Arizona, it had lots of brick and rock around, so we gathered up some and made the below grill.

I tested it tonight by grilling a bacon wrapped fillet Mignon. The natural oak charcoal heats up quick, cooks evenly and has a nice earthy flavor.

I have not forgotten that I need to continue my story on how we first purchased ocean front property in Mexico back in the 90's and came to the hard decision to sell it. It's a heart breaker and will take some noodling for me to put together.

I the mean time, I am happy with my little piece of Mexico in my backyard.

Memories of Mexico. Travel with parents

4AM in Scottsdale and it is raining just a little. We get 2 miles down the road, and it's a bit harder. Keith says "it will let up in a bit" now we are I-10, and it is raining harder than I have ever seen. 18 wheel trucks doing 80 miles an hour in the dark, in the rain. We have to keep up or be hit from the rear. I am so tense that every muscle in my body is burning. I decide that once we stop in Tucson to fuel up and to pick up a package from a friend to take down to his son in San Carlos, that I will refuse to get back into the car until it is either light out or the rain stops. My prayers are answered and both happen while we are stopped in Tucson.

Our first stop is at Immigration. My parents are so excited to get their first FMT. I explain that they had one before when we all went to Troncones years ago, but filling out one on your flight and actually doing one in a Mexican Office is all together different.

One of the first things we did once we got into San Carlos was eat. This is Rosa's Cantina. Nice place and OK prices. We have noticed that prices are pretty high in San Carlos. Similar to prices in Phoenix. But we were not there to pinch pennies, we were there to show my parents a good time and for them to feel safe about the possibility of bringing their Motor coach down for a month or 2 next year.

This is the Pearl Farm in Guaymas. This is an interesting tour and only took about 1 hour. The pearls they harvest are a beautiful color. They implant 250 thousand oysters every year and only yield about 4 thousand for sale.

This is on the way up to the Mirador. San Carlos is so lovely. It reminds me a lot of how Cabo San Lucas must have looked before all the US Dollars started flowing there.

Doing a little Pilates/Yoga move up at the Mirador.

Keith holding some pearl oysters. The oysters have to be cleaned 5 times per year and will not be harvested for 4 years. Lots of work. Little return.

Ok, So we thought it would be fun to rent a Rhino for the day and go exploring into locations that I did not want to take my car. It was fun. And... we thought it would be funny to take a photo of Mom and Dad going through a puddle. We all thought the water would go to the sides. With no wind screen on the Rhino, that water went right in. My Mom was covered in cow pee muddy water. Yuck. And it was a bit chilly out. But, she is a real trooper and did not complain. Well, until we couldn't get the stains out of her pretty pink sweatshirt. No fear! I used my Mexican "Zote" soap and some elbow grease and her shirt is as good as new. No more brown smelly marks.

This is the public beach entry on the Caracol. Small beach and probably one of the most northern points you will find Coconut Palms in Mexico.

Our last meal in Mexico. A road side taco stand on the south end of Santa Ana. Boy, let me tell you what happens when 4 gringos pull up in a Lexus. We get charged triple the going rate. My fault for not asking the price to begin with. So anyway, we paid $22.00 USD for 12 tiny tacos and 2 cokes. We should have gone to the same Burrito stand we always do just North of Magdalena. We got 4 LARGE Bistek burros with 2 cokes and a coffee all for under $9.00 USD.

Oh well. Sometimes you just have to let things drop.

Memories of Mexico. Trip with the kids

She was sobbing.

"you cant make me do this"

I said, Oh my Dear, we certainly can. We are in Mexico and here the parents tell the children what to do. She relented as we strapped her in. We gave the signal and the boat took off with our oldest daughter in tow. Para sailing.

It began as an idea. A good one we thought, but that's what we get for thinking.

Keith and I loved Mexico so much that we wanted to share it with everyone, especially our daughters.

They were 11 and 14 at the time. A critical age, not so much crucial, but meaning they were very critical about everything.

We thought (here we go with the thinking again) that they would have more fun and make wonderful memories of a trip to Mexico if they both brought a friend along with them.

We chose Ixtapa, GRO as our destination. The Krystal Resort. Several pools, Oceanside, swim up bars...all the trappings of a National Lampoons "Vacation" movie.

The girls anguished over the choosing of the friends that would go. Our youngest invited a girl that she had known for most of her 11 years. Our oldest chose a recent friend and at the last minute the girl got into typical teenage trouble and her parents forbid her to travel. A new girl was chosen and a girl was close to the family. A nice quiet girl. A good fit.

Everything was going so well. Passports, vaccination, Report cards.

So, I should have been careful of the undertow.

Getting from Juneau, Alaska to Zihuatanejo Mexico takes 2 days. One from JNU to LAX, then from LAX to ZIH. So, We had to overnight in L.A.

We took at very expensive taxi ride into Beverly Hills to a nice Sushi Bar. Then to a Mall for shopping. Shopping does not happen in Juneau unless you consider outdoor wear as shopping.

Once back at the Hotel, we settled all 4 girls in for the night in our adjoining rooms. Only a few minutes passed before one of them were crying. Our youngest daughter could not find her back pack.

Tragedy struck and it set the tone for the rest of the trip. We think Kally left her back pack in one of the cabs. Why she took a back pack full of school books and 11 year old knickknacks is beyond me, but to her, she had just lost the Holy Grail.

Morning did arrive as scheduled and all went well at the airports. These Alaskan kids are well trained in travel. No roads lead to Juneau, so when we leave, we do it by air or sea. None of these kids however had ever stepped off a plane and into a hot humid environment.

Sunblock. To kids living in a temperate rain forest, you never ever want to block the sun. My constant job was monitoring their levels of protection. The oldest girls wanted that " Hawaiian Tropic" look and sunkissed hair highlights, so they were focused on maximum exposure. The younger girls were obsessed with water activities and the swim up hamburger bar. Keeping block on them was nearly impossible. All the kids were burned after the first day regardless of my best efforts.

I don't know when or why it happened, but Keith and I became the enemy. Our 2 girls were not talking to us and were in total defiance mode. The other 2 were angels. We took them to nice dinners, we let them shop at the tacky tourist markets. We took them out to feed the crocodiles, Jet skiing and snorkeling. They all got to drive the golf carts around Ixtapa. That brought a few smiles, but it was short lived.

Keith and Breehia had chicken for dinner one night. There is a saying that common crisis builds strong bonds. Well, the crisis was extreme diarrhea and only 1 bathroom. It did not build a strong bond, it just added more pain to the process. They both spent the next day in bed as well. We still had 5 days to go.

Our youngest was still getting burned, although I had here covered in one of her dads tee shirts and a hat, she was still burning. And she began retaining fluids and her face was swelling like a pumpkin. I took her too see the resort physician who was very sweet and brought out that lovely smile that she had secreted away since losing the back pack.

Kally had sun poisoning. He gave her some meds to shed to fluid and said she would be fine in a few days. We saw him again that night at the Resort Fiesta Night and he again was able to get her to smile.

The next night was her 12th birthday and we celebrated with an oceanside dinner in Zihuatanejo. A lovely sunset and a 3 piece band with guitars and a wooded xylophone played Happy Birthday and my favorite, Girl from Ipanema. We all had a great meal and a good experience. We loaded back into 2 cabs and headed back to Ixtapa. That's when the itching started. We were all covered in sand flea bites. Bactine swabs for everyone. Bites on top of sun burn is especially unforgettable.

I was new to this Step-Mom thing. If I knew then what I know now, I would have done about 100 things differently. I was expecting that the kids to enjoy a vacation the way we do. But having no experience in vacationing, how could they? I thought we were giving them this awesome precious gift and they would be grateful and gushing in love and laughter. We generally got sneers, rolling eyes and sassy back talk in return. Did I mention I would do things differently now.

If we had been more travelled in Mexico, there would have been over 100 places that we should have taken them rather than Ixtapa.

On the cab ride back to the airport, I asked the driver where he takes his family when they vacations.

Without any hesitation he said "Troncones".

Once again in L.A. for our overnight stay, I sought out a book store and scoured the travel section for any book that mentioned Troncones. Only one did in brief, and it wet my appetite for more information. But that would have to wait.

Note, the kids are all now adults and it is fascinating to talk to them about this trip. Our oldest chose Ixtapa as her first real grown-up trip with her then boyfriend, now husband. Our youngest has travelled all over the world.

The building of a wall.

I built a Prayer Wall in our back yard.

I have been thinking about it for some time and now that I am not working, I really wanted to get it done.

We had all of the stones on site just laying around in piles. I spent all yesterday morning carrying each one by hand to the area. Keith had to help me move the big foundation stones.

The wall helps me have a more fulfilling prayer life. As I am praying, I write down the prayer then fold up the paper and shove it in between the stones. I don't think for one minute that God needs to read these, as He already knows my prayers. I do this as an exercise of my Faith. Plus it looks kinda nice in the massive back yard. I might build on to it if I happen to be given access to more stone.

The first prayer note contained the names of those that I knew needed prayer.

The second one was a selfish prayer asking God to give us the wisdom and provision to make our move to Mexico. With an added request to super naturally improve my Spanish and to get us there sooner rather than later.

If you would like me to hand deliver a prayer for you to the wall, please just comment here or email me at: kflynn31@cox.net.

I would love nothing more than to have to increase the size of the wall because I need more prayer space.

Viva Veterans Day! Ode to my Daddy

So, I wrote in an earlier post how I got a new Daddy. http://chrissyandkeetygo2mexico.blogspot.com/2009/08/torture.html )

Well, besides being a very good father, he is very good at many things that I am proud about.

Today I just want to bring your attention to his service to the U.S. Air Force.

My Dad is a perfectionist. Not in a controlling bad way, he is perfect in all he does.

It does not surprise me that he was an awesome crew chief. He is so handsome in this photo. ( that is him shirtless, talking to the fighter pilot) I did not see this photo until last year when he posted it on Class Mates. After I commented on it, I received 2 framed copies along with his dog tags.

Immediate crocodile tears.

I had to hug him and rush out with the photos clutched to my chest. Tears now.

I don't suppose many girls get the honor of praising their Vietnam Daddy's. Most of the Vietnam Vet Daddy's are either dead or worse.

I consider myself Blessed to have this Daddy, let alone one that I can be so proud of.

For this any many other reasons.

Happy Veteran's Day Daddy. I love you sooo much!

It's been a while

I wish I could tell you something interesting as to why I have been in a Blog drought, but I am not that interesting of a person.

Since my last post in September, I have began my unemployment status and have enjoyed the 2 weeks with our youngest daughter in a quest to find a new truck suitable for her puppy and take it back to Juneau, AK.

I have also acquired a new Panasonic Lumix Z51 camera. It's a love hate relationship. She is way smarter than I am patient, so I just leave her in the bag for days hoping she will learn her lesson and just take a stupid photo without making me think about all the settings. Oh, don't get me started on her hooity tooity software that would make any FBI or CIA photoshop software look like child's play. Needless to say, I have been humbled by this small devise.

OK, so I also wanted to tell you all that Keith and I have started a new 12 step program. Well, not really it is only a 1 step program. We are no longer purchasing anything that we wont be willing to move to Mexico. I have started giving stuff away as well.

I was able to choose a few items from an award program and along with a propane patio heater (that will be great in Mexico on the cooler winter nights) I also chose a toaster that poaches eggs. Am I a total freak for loving this thing or what? I do love it. So simple and actually does something for me. Not like this stinking camera...

Here are some photos from our short trip in SE Arizona, my magical toaster and last nights sunset from our back yard.

Flag Waving.

I have misplaced my Mexican flag. I am sure I have flown it in Arizona, but maybe not. I bought it years ago in Mexico and it hung in our garage in Juneau. I am sure that is not proper flag etiquette, but it was meant more as a reminder to me than an allegiance to the Nation. I would not be offended if I spotted Ol' Glory in a Mexican garage, as long as it was in good shape and being treated honorably.




There is a flag store that is kinda on my way home today. I have email the Flagman, and he has several sizes of Mexican Flags, so I will go and get another flag.



I look up the Mexican Flag on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flag_of_Mexico.

Here is the National Anthem. Is it me, or does the music, not the language or lyrics sound Russian. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yG94Eb7CdYQ

There is some very interesting information on there. The Oath to the Flag and the Salute to the Flag are lovely pieces of poetry.

Blame my Orange Aura.

So, as boredom seemed to encroach and eat away at my brain like a game of Ms. Pacman. I took one of those Facebook quizzes. In part here is what it had to say about my "Orange Aura".

"Orange personalities are the creative adventurers in the color spectrum. They have an inner urge to be creative, active and enjoy life to its fullest. They enjoy the challenge and excitement of forming and shaping physical reality. Orange personalities love to imagine and plan strategies for their next adventure or project and then put those plans into action. They are always busy building, organizing and shaping their projects and physical reality. An Orange personality's motivation in life is based on how much pleasure and satisfaction they get out of their own adventures, challenges and creative projects. They want to be adventurous, creative and live out their own ideas."

So given the above scientific and proven results, it stands to reason that Keith and I can spend hours pouring over Websites that have only to do with Mexico.

I just started keeping track of the books I check out of the library. Since March 2009 I have read 24 books. All on Mexico. As my reading schedule usually does not vary much, I can use simple math and figure that over the last 10-12 years, I have probably read somewhere around 480 + - books all concerning Mexico in one way or another.

This does not make me an expert.

It does however make me a weirdo.

I almost feel that I need to hide this from people. Like I am some sort of a stalker.

Fortunately I have stopped buying books. I hate to think what I have spent on books and acrylic nails. At least the books provided some sort of education. The nails just costs money and I never learned one word of Vietnamese.

We have a huge map of Mexico. It is so large, the only place it fits is in our Laundry room. I have had some people give me that look as if to say "what the heck? Mexico in the utility room, she has truly lost it"

Keith can locate me there often. If I find an unfamiliar named town on a website and I cannot find it in my Guia Roji Travel Atlas, then I scurry off the the laundry room and start searching with a magnifying glass. I usually start prattling away to myself and the cats just gaze up to me in worry.

I have marked up the map with yellow highlighter all the roads we have travelled by car or bus.

We only have the states of Oaxaca and Chiapas to go and we have travelled the entire Pacific Coast.

So, writing this blog on Mexico, reading books on Mexico, constant lurking on websites on Mexico and actual travelling in Mexico are all the fault of my Orange Aura.

It's not just a phase I am going through.

Much to my parents discomfort.

Latitudes and altitudes

I am back home in Juneau this week.

Although we reside in Arizona, we consider Alaska and Mexico to be home. The 2 are not that much different from each other. Really.

Maybe that is why I am so comfortable with Mexico. I already know how to deal with lack and abundance.

Both places have an abundance of tourist and natural beauty. Both lack faith in the Government. When Alaskans want/need something done, we do it ourselves. Usually Government comes in at the last minute and claims the credit for itself.

It's the rainy season here as well as Mexico. Actually it is the rainy season in Juneau all parts of the year. When it's not snowing. There is still snow on the Mountains, I can see some from this couch I am on. Some one call Vice President Gore and ask him about the warming thing.

Well, today I am going to go down to the cruise ship dock and sell tours along side my youngest daughter. It is aways fun to talk to the tourist. Most consider to Alaska to be a once and a lifetime adventure and their wide eyed expressions are priceless. Along with the comments like; " WOW, how beautiful, what is the altitude here?" umm, you are on a dock, just off a ship that is in the ocean...

It reminds me of listening to tourist on our way to Mexico. I have actually heard people say that they would love Mexico more if it wasn't so filled with Mexicans.

Obviously, Jimmy Buffet missed the point when he sang about changes in latitude, changes in attitudes. The attitudes of most tourist change not regardless of the latitude or altitude.

A pity.

My second time in Mexico, Part 3 of 3

The underwater scream was terrifying. It could have only been Keith; we were the only ones in the bay that early morning.

I came to the surface and looked back. Swimming towards me, he splits the snorkel out and shouts for me to swim to shore.

I didn’t question him, I swam. Fast. With swim fins, you can really move when you need too.

Something had taken a silver dollar size bite out of his lower back. Near his hip pocket. The pocket contained a soggy packet of crackers. Keith was trailing food like a human chum bucket. Snorkeling adventure over. Keith was fine and taking a line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail says…”it’s just a flesh wound”

I don’t know how we found this beach to start with; it was not on the beaten path. In fact there was no path at all. We parked the car in the desert and bushwhack our way down the steep incline. We didn’t take any provisions like water or food. We had thought there would be palapa bars and restaurants.

Hiking down also means a struggle up. I have a friend who calls flip flops “Go-aheads” because you cannot go backwards in them. You cannot go up a sandy hill with them either.

The sand was blistering hot. The flip flops provided no protection or traction. I was better off putting them on my hands. So that’s what I did. I have never been so hot, tired, dirty, salty, thirsty and hungry in all my life. I just wanted to get back to the car and away from “Biting Fish Bay”

Like refugees fleeing a war zone, we stopped at the first place we find. It was approaching noon. The small hotel/restaurant was out in the middle of nowhere. It was quiet and had a cool breeze coming off the water.

No Boom Boom music. No whistling activities directors yelling “Beach Bally Ball”. No waiters with stiff white outfits. No swim up bar. No margarita machine.

It was perfect. It probably has long since been torn down and replaced by something cheesy and American.

It was there that we fell in love. With Mexico. All that she is and all that she isn’t. Sounds similar to the deal that Keith is in for with me.


So much had taken place on this 7 day trip and little had anything to do with observing the culture, or enjoying the slow pace that Mexico can offer. It’s Cabo for crying out loud! How does one fall in love with Mexico based upon Cabo? It would be like falling in love with America having spent a few days in Disney Land.


When the ratty van took us the back to the airport, I was much more aware of my surroundings than I had been on the trip in.

Tire repair shops everywhere. Why is there such a need for that?

Grilled chicken joints, Farmicia’s and Muffler shops. It was all so jumbled up.

I was drawn into the lovely disorder of it all. It makes my life seem more organized and balanced.

I considered not getting on the flight. After all, I was legally single; I had some money that had just been freed up from the divorce. I could quit my job, send for my cat, kayak and Bronco II and live in Mexico. Plus it was my birthday the next day and what a better way to prove that you have lost you mind than to spontaneously move to Mexico?

The airport chair was fiberglass, orange and as comfortable as a church pew, but I preferred it to the First Class seat awaiting my boarding.

Alaska Airlines was getting ready to shut the door. I was getting ready to shut one as well.

If table dance night hadn’t screwed things up enough, this should do it for sure.

Through snotty sobbing and primitive sign language I was able to communicate to Keith the many fears I had concerning our future together and the overwhelming desire to stay in Mexico. I wanted him stay here with me, but how would that be possible? He had 2 little girls in Alaska. Jeez, that adds to my paralysis… I am soon to be a step Mom.

He hugged me tight and made promises about our future including Mexico. He told me that we would return soon and that if I still wanted to live in Mexico, than one day we would.

We were the last passengers to board the flight. As the plane pushed back I saw something that I had never seen before or since. The ground crew stood at attention in a salute to our pilots.

A salute is appropriate for beginnings and endings, for advancement and dismissal. I find it appropriate that during my 7 days in Mexico that I have ended a marriage and began the path towards another. I have dismissed my past and have advanced into my future.

I blow Mexico a kiss and finished the 2nd chapter in my memory book of Mexico.

(Note, although we have yet to live in Mexico, we have come very close. We purchased ocean front property near Zihuatanejo but sold it a few years later. We continue our search for somewhere we will enjoy putting down roots and putting up a palapa!)

Second time in Mexico. Part 2 of 3

He must love me. Why else would he have quietly turned and walked away just because I told him to leave me alone?

Because he is a nice man and he had made a promise.

I had never put much stock in promises. From my experience they were just a concept. Just like mañana is a concept, although it means tomorrow in Spanish, it doesn’t necessarily mean that next day. It just means, not today.

Just yesterday, I had broken a promise to one man and on this night I came close to breaking another. To my supposed to be husband.

Alcohol induced arguments laced with flammable emotions complicated by exhaustion and impromptu table dancing leads to more than a disagreement. It leads to an all out snarling fight.

Keith was about to be caught up in the Perfect Storm and there was little he could have done to prevent it. Although he tried.

Booze was the most powerful storm approaching very slowly but with gale force winds expected.

Fatigue had sat down in the area for a number of hours. Although not as fierce at Booze, it left the area weak and exposed.

Fear had been lingering just off the area for years. It was waiting for the added force of Booze and Fatigue to wreak its havoc.

The three systems came crashing together after a long day of fishing, with little to eat and too much to drink. Me, not Keith.

Petulant fit. I did not recognize myself. Was that really me dancing on a table? In a bar? I threw my shoes at Keith in the hallway of a ritzy hotel. I spat venomous words and locked him out of the room.

Than I sat. And waited. And waited.

I gathered up my stupid self and went in search of my supposed to be husband. He was on the beach, weathering the storm.

No apologies offered. I was too prideful for that. He was to kind to demand any. He must love me.

We walk silently down the echoing hallway. Two strappy sandals lie haphazardly on the marble floor, just where the lunatic owner had thrown them.

In a fluid, yet deliberate motion, Keith bends over of scoops them up. He stashes them under one arm and puts the other arm around my waste.

We promise to talk about it mañana. And we do.

Promises. They are no longer a concept for me.

(Note; I cannot believe what an idiot I was. I would like to think that I had a bad reaction to the food, but I didnt have any. A rookie mistake. Keith tried to prevent this. But I was having none of his “control measures”. That’s what started the fight. I guess he didn’t think the public table dance was a good idea. I hope to redeem myself in the 3rd and final installment of this story)

Second time around. Memories of my 2nd trip to Mexico and more. Part 1 of 3

We had decided to marry and spend our honeymoon in Mexico. The year was 1993 and Keith and I had met just 2 months prior on New Years Eve. It was a blind date.

Not sure of what we wanted in a marriage, we definitely knew what we didn’t want.

8 months would give us plenty of time to plan a trip, a wedding and get to know each other. I had read books on Mexico, not marriage. I studied the maps on Mexico, not the road to a happy marriage. I asked everyone I knew that had been to Mexico all of the questions, about Mexico, not marriage.

I tried to recall my High School Spanish. My teacher, Mrs. Josie Esau, graduate of Rice University, had little command of the Spanish language and less control over the class. She spoke Spanish with a heavy Texan accent. They can’t help it - Texans. We mostly cooked tacos and listened to Mexican music in Josie’s class.

I prepared little for the trip and even less so for a marriage. I was perfect in my oversight of the obvious. I would not allow prudent thinking stand in my way. Keith was such a nice guy. And I really needed a nice guy.


We finally arrive in San Jose del Cabo. It is our 4th airport of the day. I am in a sassy short dress and high heals. I broadcast “American Tourist” like a Vegas billboard. I am 31 years old. I had (past tense) a great body and an underdeveloped sense of self awareness. I was the original Deadliest Catch.

Pollo Loco. Hey! I can read Spanish!!! “Crazy Chicken” Keith! That sign says Crazy Chicken… I am so smart… I can rule this Nation. I can live here and speak this simple language and remain tanned indefinitely. I also noticed to smell of burning trash and the ratty condition of the van that we had just piled into with a bunch of drunken idiots going to the same resort as us.

It’s the typical ritzy resort. Swim up bar, billowing white gauze cabanas and English speaking wait staff. It was as far from being in Mexico is it could be. Except for the smell of burning trash, it always seemed to linger.

I experienced many firsts in Cabo San Lucas.

1. Ceviche- I loved it. Where had it been all my life?
2. Jet Skiing – wet and wild!!
3. Catching and releasing a huge Sail Fish.
4. Divorce


One of the details that I overlooked in my planning was the ability to legally marry Keith.

The paperwork dissolving my “practice” marriage had been filed for 11 months. The Judge went on sabbatical without assigning the case to another Judge. In July I am informed that this dissolution hearing is scheduled for the same date that Keith and I had planned to be wed. The honeymoon already paid for.

So, we didn't get to start our marriage that September in Mexico but I ended one there.

At a prearranged time I phoned the Kenai Court System to affirm that I did indeed still agree to dissolve the marriage. It was more difficult to arrange the international call than it was disarrange a marriage.


I sit on the edge of the bed with a stunning view of the shore. A warm ocean breeze blows in and leaves the floor tile as well as the drink in my hand weeping from the humidity. I am still in my wet bikini. Keith sits out on the balcony. He tries to be two places at the same time. Near me, yet not part of the proceedings. Finally the call is connected; I answer all the questions then hang up and take the hand of my supposed to be husband.

He leads me down to the swanky swim up bar and again, there is the ever present smell of burning trash. But this time it’s the smoldering garbage of my life past.

Burning trash has never smelled so sweet.

(Note; Keith and I married a few months later on New Years Eve a year to the date that we had first met. There is more to this story in Cabo that I will post in the future.We have traveled in Mexico over 30 times, long since passing up ritzy hotels and swim up bars)

Torture

Torture. This is what my first memories of Mexico were based upon. Well, torture and sea shells. I was 7 years old.

My parents, sister and I were living in Northern California at the time. They (the adults) thought that seeing the Baja 1000 would be a fun time. That race had just had its first run in October 1967.

Ensenada in 1969 was not a tourist town. I not sure if it was much of a town at all. Nevertheless, it was my first time in Mexico. We flew from Sacramento to San Diego and rented a car. It seems that we drove half the day, but it could have only been 2 hours. Maybe more as my father had probably had a few shots of tequila and had gotten us lost.

The booze improved his driving skills but did little to improve his personality or scruples.

Anyway, I have only flashes of memories. Cool Ocean breezes, a dead Sea Lion on the beach, my Mother trying to get her silk pillow case back from the non English speaking house keepers and an old gringo that was the first ex-pat that I had ever met. He was a stranger, yet my mom let me and my sister sit with him for hours (it was probably 20 minutes, see above where I thought we drove for ½ a day) while he showed us all about sea shells and how to clean the critters out. I don’t think I had ever spent that much time with a stranger before then.

The torture part comes in from my 17 year old uncle. My mothers kid brother. My parents brought my uncle on the trip to watch my sister and me while the adults went out doing adult things in Mexico and for him to experience Mexico. My uncle had different ideas of what those experiences should be. He teased me by keeping a ball away from me, had me leaping in the air to grab my toys and even went as far as putting me in those Mexican finger cuffs; behind my back. He had also gotten a bull whip at the market and a big sombrero. He chased me around with that stuff too. I know it all sounds innocent, but I was very upset at the time, and probably a bit nervous about being away from home to start with, and to have an angry uncle in charge really did scare me. My mother tells me that it could not have been so bad.

Fast forward 40 years. January 2009 found me back in Mexico again with that same uncle. All I said was “Hey, the last time we were in Mexico together was 40 years ago” and you know what he said? “Chrissy, I regret all those mean and terrible things I did and said on that trip”. So, my memory is not perfect, but my feelings were.

Of course I had long since forgiven him and it was interesting to hear his perspective on the whole thing. Come to find out, he had thought that he was brought on the trip more as a play date for my dad, not a “Manny”. A 17 year old red blooded American boy in Mexico could “experience” a lot. But his sister (my Mom) obviously had more boundaries than he had ideas. He took out is resentment on me.


We shared some excellent times and made new delightful memories in Guayabitos that January and lest you might think this was our first reunion in 40 years, it was not. We have been in each others lives and homes many, many times. It’s odd that this never came up until we were back together in Mexico.

Now the only torture I face concerning memories of Mexico is leaving her.
(Note; I got a new Daddy and he is the best ever!)