MeXscape

This one comes from Chuck back in 2007.

One of the things you have to deal with in moving to Mexico is money. On the surface this is not too difficult. Mexico uses Pesos; the US uses Dollars. A fraction of a peso is a centavo. One hundred centavos make a peso. That's pretty simple. It gets even easier. The current exchange rate very roughly works out to 10 pesos make a dollar. Right now it is probably somewhere between 11 and 12 pesos to a dollar, but 10 is very easy and I'm not hurting myself. About now you are thinking about skipping to the next post. I would be. I mean this is easy stuff why bother writing about this anyway? I'm going to ask that you keep reading, but at the same time, I'm going to tell you it gets even easier.

Here is another one Chuck wrote in 2007. I love his writing and I really wish he would post more. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Living in mainstream society in the US, it is not hard to decide how much of anything to buy at once. Everything comes prepackaged or in set amounts. If you like something typically you buy more of it at once because you get a bulk discount. Even produce is priced in groups. 5 limes for $1.00; 2 pounds for $1.89. Living in Mexico that all goes out the window. You don't get bulk discounts here. Everything isn't nicely grouped or prepackaged for you either. You have to decide how much you want - all by yourself - with no help.

It's finally gone and done it. It's gotten hot. Thankfully, our beautiful weather lasted until mid June, but the honeymoon is over. Old man summer is finally here. Anyone who has the temerity to go out in the middle of the day is going to get sweaty, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Most of us deal with the effusive perspiration in the normal ways: sweat rags, fresh clothes, frequent showers, and dependable deodorant. But a portion of the population – a distressingly significant portion – relies on perfumes. Ack.

Rainy season always brings new and interesting challenges, and this year is no different. For the first part of rainy season, we only had lovely, gentle, soaking rains, so I kinda forgot what a real Mazatlan storm can be like, but last night I was reminded.

Over the past year, La Cueva del Leon has changed quite a bit: new furniture, new décor, new menu. The new décor is cooly pleasing to the eye with it's clean blue and white theme and comfortably pleasing to the buttocks. They have done away with all of the hard seats and replaced them with padded chairs and benches with a decent hiney quotient, even outside. I love the new padded chairs, which invite you to linger and enjoy the ocean view rather than finish your meal and hurry on to some other more amenable location.

It all started with a little head rush. No big deal. Just stood up too fast. I got that little bit of dizziness, but it passed quickly. At first. Over the next few days, the dizziness became more pronounced, and was in turn, joined by a progression of other annoyances: strobing light, tunnel vision, ringing ears. I thought (the same as the rest of you are thinking right now),"Well, crap. What now?"

I think you guys deserve an explanation for my absence, so here it is: I was depressed. It sounds so trifling to say it, but as anyone who has similarly suffered will tell you, it is not. It is something I have struggled with for years, but hasn't affected me since we moved here. Until this summer, that is. I am not going to give you a long, droning post on the causes and effects. Just suffice to say that I had a hard time getting those things done that I absolutely had to do, I had no energy left for anything more. And I couldn't think of a single decent thing to write about. But - hurray! - things are getting better and I am starting to feel energetic and inspired again. Thank you all of you who were worried about me and emailed or commented. Big hugs.

We usually get our car washed once a week when we go to the beach. We have a regular car wash guy who does a great job and does the whole Explorer, including the roof, for $30. Better than that, if there is no parking for us, he will find people and make them move their cars to make space for us. And that, my friends, is priceless on a busy beach Sunday.

I knew when I moved here that a different language is spoken, but I never took that thought through its logical progression that the nonverbal language is different here, too. When we first got here and were still depending on charades for a lot of our communication, it sometimes caused a great deal of confusion that my gestural language was completely different from the local one. It also doesn't help that some gestures exist in both cultures but mean completely different things. And a few that Americans use regularly can get you into trouble because the meaning here is vulgar. So here is a quick crash course to help you out.

It's that day again. That day once a year where I publicly embarrass my husband. Well, I guess I actually do that more than once a year, but Chuck's birthday is the only time I do it in writing. I know some of you are groaning at my continuing sappy, soppy sentimentalism, but you are just going to have to deal with it. My blog; my rules.