Hammock Musings from Mérida

Things are shinier downtown

2012-02-09T18:28:00.000-06:00

Construction in El Centro has been on-going since my arrival in mid-November. All the parks downtown were closed for facelifts. Building facades were spruced up. Streets were repaved with quasi cobble blocks. Buildings are now wearing new lighting schemes. The Government Palace is bathed in Mexican flag colored lighting on special occasions.

The Opera House and Teatro Manzanero have been renovated.

While not totally complete, things are beginning to really sparkle. Some have said it's a last hurrah event by politicians for this year's elections. Others believe it has to do with the expected influx of visitors for 2012.

Here are some random photos from the thousand year old city I live in.

Buddha Wisdom IV

2012-02-06T08:23:00.000-06:00

"But what makes these 'experts' preach their own opinion and call it truth?" asked the inquirer. "Is it an inheritance of humankind to do this, or is it merely something they gain satisfaction from?" "Apart from consciousness," answered the Buddha, "no absolute truths exist. False reasoning declares one view to be true and another view wrong. It is delight in their dearly held opinions that makes them assert that anyone who disagrees is bound to come to a bad end. But no true seeker becomes embroiled in all this. Pass by peacefully and go a stainless way, free from theories, lusts, and dogmas."

- Majjhima Nikaya

The substance of your mind is apart from annihilation and apart from eternity; its essence is neither polluted nor pure. Calm and complete, it is equal in ordinary people and sages, functioning responsively without convention. All realms of experience and all states of being are only manifestations of your own mind--do the moon reflected in water or images in a mirror have origination and extinction? If you actually know this, you are fully equipped. The reason that the sages have manifested a spiritual presence to provide exemplars, and have set forth a wide variety of puzzling sayings, is simply to illustrate the fundamental peace of the body of reality, bringing about a return to the root.

- Shih-t'ou

Anyone who, even for a second, feels a pure, clear confidence on hearing the truth will experience immeasurable happiness. Why? Because, at that moment, that person is not caught up in the concept of a self or a living being or a life span. He is not caught up in concepts about the world, nor is he caught up in concepts about nothingness. He does not take any notice of the idea that this is a sign, or this or that is not a sign. For if you are caught up in ideas, then you will be caught up in the self. And even if you are caught up in ideas about nothingness, you will still be caught up in the self. That's why we should not get attached to the belief that things either exist or do not exist. This is the hidden meaning when I say that my teachings are a raft to be abandoned when you see true being.

- Diamond Sutra

Monks, this committed life is not lived in order to deceive people, or to convert them. It is not lived for the sake of gain or honor or reputation or financial profit. There is no idea of "let me draw people's attention to me by being a this or a that." No, monks, this committed life is lived for the sake of seeing into things and understanding them.

- Itivuttaka Sutta

Frida

2012-02-02T07:38:00.000-06:00

In the past four years, I have gone to several famous artists' showings at the Olimpo. Among them have been Picasso and Dali. This year's offering is Kahlo. It runs until April 1 and like the others, is free.

I have been looking forward to this show since first learning of it last September. I was especially excited about the opportunity to see seven original works, mostly from a museum in Tlaxcala.

I have long been a fan of Frida's and also her husband, Diego.

Yesterday was the big day. Disappointment is an inadequate word to describe my feeling after attending this event.

It wasn't me. I wasn't having a bad day. I was returning from my weekly massage in Progresso so was all mellow and centered.

I felt like I had been duped by a carnival sideshow except that I hadn't paid anything. The entrance was promising. Lots of large Frida portraits hanging in the Olimpo rotunda. An impressive stairway climb. Bright colors and lighted displays. Papel picados overhead. Large photos of Frida. Nice pics of her house in Coyoacan.

And then the seven original works.

Four were from her youth and frankly reminded me of some of my kids' art. One was simply a large page of writing with a tiny sketch inset. Two were legitimate art pieces. One was better than the other.

Lots of glitter and hype. Not much substance.

The usual Olimpo approach of supplementing a few original drawings and watercolors with reproductions of more famous works was absent.

If you are a Frida fan, go. Leave your expectations at home and maybe you will enjoy the moment.

I am still a big fan. Just not of this particular take.

When life gives you lemons...

2012-01-30T01:27:00.000-06:00

This past week I was in Orlando helping my father in law celebrate his 80th birthday. It also gave me a chance to meet La Dulce for the week and to visit our recently purchased home in Florida. (We had only seen the property once for ten minutes before making an offer last fall and then waiting for the short sale to be approved. In late December we closed and "took possession" with the help of Susan's brother in law.)

Things were pretty much as we remembered and the weather was unseasonably mild, although I was a little chilly in the evenings. I think we will be very happy with the purchase as our summer home and the house on Calle 61 as our winter home.

I have mentioned in the a past posting the cheap flights from Orlando to Cancun on JetBlue. The flight works really well coming to Cancun but was a little problematic when flying to Orlando from Cancun. It is a morning flight so it is not possible to take the first morning bus and arrive in time for the flight's departure. And the last ADO bus of the evening at midnight means you have a six hour wait at the airport for your flight.

So like many expats in similar predicaments, I went to Cancun the morning of the day before and spent the night. I stayed at the Soberanis Hotel. It was OK and cost only $38 a night. It was an easy five block walk from the ADO bus station.

I ate a leisurely lunch at Sanborns and then caught the city bus to the hotel zone. I got off at Caracol public beach and enjoyed the beautiful water and sand of Cancun. In the future I may go in two days early so I can day trip Cancun a little more. It's really pretty enjoyable when taken in small doses at generic prices. I also enjoy meeting the many world travelers one meets at places like the Soberani.

I'm back in Merida now and am enjoying warmer evenings.

Exotic animal sounds

2012-01-26T01:59:00.000-06:00

On a recent Sunday evening around 11:00 p.m., while lying in bed with with our bedroom door open to the garden, I heard some strange growling noises. After some contemplation, I concluded they were excited tigers or lions from the nearby zoo in Centenario Park.

Sometimes La Dulce complains about raucous birds at 4:00 a.m. and crowing roosters at erratic hours disturbing her sleeping attempts. Me...I personally find the noises of the night when commerce has shut down to be satisfying. Somehow the sounds connect me to the rest of the universe.

Perhaps the tigers were calling me to visit them. At least that was what I did later that week to see what was new this year.

Centenario is a pleasant park. It's shady with mature trees. The train and children's rides are fun to observe.

I enjoyed the animals. They seemed healthy and well cared for. They have largely adapted to their captivity. Some even interact with the public. All of nature is so resilient and able to adapt to changing circumstances. Even a caged enclosure in a city zoo doesn't have to deter one's contentment.

I watched the bengal tigers for a few minutes. They have 7 or 8. They and the jaguars are among my favorites.

As I silently chatted with them, the largest jaguar growled back at me. His voice sounded familiar.

The Mayanization of my thoughts continues.

In Lak'ech.

When you need a little salt air

2012-01-23T10:13:00.000-06:00

In my two months thus far here in Merida, I have made probably five, day trips to Progresso by bus. I catch the bus at the terminal on Calle 62 x 65 and 67. A round trip ticket for Seniors is 23 pesos; 28 pesos for everyone else. It's about an hour trip each way. You arrive at a new terminal in Progresso. It's a couple of blocks from the beach.

The journey comes with multiple benefits. I always enjoy looking at Merida from the raised perch a bus seat offers. Then it is similarly nice to leave the city and enter the countryside. Finally entering Progresso is fun. It's a town I like. It has some size and some life in it as opposed to the sleepy little beach towns strung out from it.

Cruise ship days are particularly vibrant and festive. For a schedule of when cruise ships will be in Progresso go here. Cruise ship days with a couple of thousand tourists dumped into town are kind of fun. When they dump 7000 it's a nightmare.

If a cruise ship or two are docked, that means 100 or more masseuses will be on the streets trying to sell you a massage. I've gotten four thus far this year. After three years of searching, I have finally found a really good masseuse. Her rate to me for a one hour massage is 100 pesos, less than ten dollars after a tip. Visiting her every couple of weeks is a special treat. You will need some Spanish bargaining skills if you are to get that good of a rate.

The people watching in this place is good, both along the Malecon and on the city's side streets. It seems everyone is a little happier at the beach. I also enjoy wading in the ocean and simply sitting and watching the waves.

How fortunate I am to live in a city of a million people and be able to take an air conditioned bus for $2 roundtrip to the beach whenever I want.

Gianni Fish & Chips

2012-01-19T01:24:00.000-06:00

Last Summer, I wrote of my excitement upon learning of a new fish and chip place in Merida. Finally last week I made my visit to check out Gianni Fish and Chips.

Gianni's is located on Calle 60 Norte, #337 x 19A in Fracc. Malaga. (It is just before you turn to go to the Slow Foods Market off of Technologico if you are coming from el Centro. Any bus showing "Technologico" will go past it.) Hours are 11:00 a.m. until 8:00 p.m. Monday through Saturday and 11:00 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. on Sundays.

The owner, Gianni, is personable and proud of his new establishment. His effort at bringing to Merida authentic fish and chips with a slight touch of the Yucatan is pretty darn good.

The fish and chips are attractively served in a paper cone. Dowse the order in malt vinegar and you are ready to enjoy. The cost is 40 pesos for four pieces of fish and some fries. That includes a beverage and some totopos along with Gianni's special sauces: a tamarind/chile sauce, tartar sauce, garlic sauce and an avocado/habanero sauce. All the sauces were interesting but I would stick with the vinegar. It's the right accoutrement.

I also tried the shrimp and they were good in a tempura shrimp sort of way. I want to try the other offerings in the future. Pictures on the wall of the calamari rings looked particularly good.

Gianni even has a recreated English red telephone booth inside.

Of the three fish and chips places in town that I have personally experienced, I rate Gianni's Number 1, followed by Las Vigas and then Hennessy's.

The best and the cheapest. A hard to beat combination in Hammockman's mind.

Ruta Puuc transportation is back!

2012-01-16T01:41:00.000-06:00

Possibly my favorite day trip has been the Ruta Puuc bus service to Labna, Xlapak, Sayil, Kabah and Uxmal. It ceased running while I was here last winter.

It was a special treat for those with the INAPAM Senior card since entry into the five archeological zones was free rather than the current 177 pesos for Uxmal and 42 pesos for each of the other sites.

I always enjoyed my early mornings at Labna and Xlapak with only a handful of fellow Puuc riders. The quiet within the settings was so very special along with the fresh, diesel free air.

When Jim, one of our coffee buddies, told me last Monday that it was again running on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, I was ecstatic. On Friday I went to the bus station on Calle 69 between Calles 68 and 70 and tried to purchase a ticket. They were sold out. I bought one for Sunday. The cost was 149 pesos. No INAPAM discount.

They are no longer running a bus but rather a 15 passenger van. Our group was comprised of a group of six girls, a young couple, me and Jim and his wife, Jean. The girls were a lot of fun with their picture posing and happy chatter.

The lesser known sites were still quiet with lots of fresh air. I enjoyed exploring on the many trails.

Sundays are free for Nationals so Uxmal had a few more than usual but they added to the pleasure.

After you have seen sites a few times, it is nice to just enjoy them and discover new aspects of the places.

I was back in Merida by 4:30 p.m.

Campay on Thursday nights

2012-01-12T22:21:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite foods is sushi. I don't often eat it as it is relatively expensive in restaurants in the States. Here in Merida it is much more reasonable and also very fresh.

We've tried many sushi places in Merida. All have been satisfactory. Our friends Tom and Debi recently took us to one of their favorites, Campay, in Colonia Mexico. You go north on Prolongacion Montejo and turn right on Calle 21 between SuperBodega and OfficeDepot. Go a couple of blocks, make a left on Calle 22 and it is one block on your right.

This is a restaurant which is popular with local Japanese residents. They have many excellent offerings of sushi, sashimi and various rice dishes. We have been back at least five times since going with Tom and Debi.

Thursday nights, sushi rolls are 45 pesos. We usually order them "sin queso" as they tend to come pretty heavy with cream cheese. All have been excellent and beautifully prepared. Thursdays, three orders of rolls and several glasses of white wine for La Dulce, and we are happy with a bill of $25 including tip. The same items in Kansas City would be $50.

They have a sashimi/fish boat that is $250 pesos and is enough for 4 people. It is spectacularly presented.

If you like sushi, give this place a try. I think you will be glad you did.

Happy Birthday, Merida!

2012-01-09T01:15:00.000-06:00

Last Thursday night, we met a good friend, Debbie from Canada who was in town for a few days and also Eric and Mary at the Chile Habanero restaurant for a late dinner. It was good to catch up with Debbie and to spend a few moments together. One of the real benefits of living in Merida is the opportunity to know such a wide range of the world's citizens who have chosen to spend some of their life in this special city.

Chile Habanero is one of many restaurants along Calle 60 between the Main Plaza and Parque Santa Lucia. It's as good a choice as any along that street. The owner, Andres, is friendly and gives his guests a lot of attention. The food is good and the presentation is attractive. We dined in the outdoor patio at the rear of the restaurant and enjoyed a robust evening together.

Afterwards, we joined the throng of Meridanos gathered at Santa Lucia to make the birthday processional down to City Hall. This is a beautiful, candlelit parade of trova musicians, traditionally costumed locals and festive horse drawn carriages. Everyone sings their way to the Municipal Palace where they unite their voices in "Las Mananitas" to Merida at Midnight and enjoy some staged music and fireworks.

This was officially Merida's 470th birthday as a Spanish city. As a continuously inhabited Maya city, it is perhaps another 1000 years old.

It was a perfect night for a stroll. The Cathedral and public buildings looked stunning with their new lighting schemes. The recently renovated parks sparkled.

Both La Dulce and I commented how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place.

Haikus, Vol. 24

2012-01-05T01:42:00.000-06:00

I take a deep breath.

Watch the mind from a corner.

It is so pleasant.

Everything is pure.

Arising thoughts go away.

There's nothing to do.

I am not in charge.

Something else peeks behind me.

Playing hide and seek.

I'm not who I think.

Ceasing with all mind babble.

Someone is still there.

I glimpse all that is.

We flirt unashamedly.

Love at first sighting.

Alpha. Omega.

I am not the crashing wave.

I am the ocean.

Paying attention.
There's no need to be afraid.
"One, two, three" for Paul.

2012

2012-01-02T01:56:00.000-06:00

The final year of the Maya calendar has finally arrived. There are many differing views about what that implies. I will not attempt to espouse any in this post.

I do want to issue a related warning, however, to my readers. Travel agents have already begun to anticipate an influx of some 50 million visitors this year to the states of Quintana Roo, Yucatan, Campeche, Chiapas and Tabasco. Some indicate difficulty already in booking rooms. Apparently tour packagers have tied up many of the available accommodations.

If you are a regular seasonal visitor to Merida, you may want to firm up your housing for this year, if it is not already too late. And then you may want to prepare yourself for an experience that may well prove to be less tranquilo than usual. Airlines will undoubtedly be adding additional flights and air travel costs may also reflect the increased demand.

New Year's Eve we went to church at the Cathedral, ate dinner at Rescoldos and took a calesa ride up to the Monument and back to the house on Calle 61. It was a lovely evening.

We then walked over to our neighborhood fireworks display with the accompanying exploding of the effigy to 2011. ( The one this year was patterned after Mulamar Khadafi.) Everyone was dressed up (except, of course the expats). There was a degree of danger as errant fireworks caused lots of scrambling by the crowd. Everyone was in good spirits and we have always felt most welcome by our neighbors.

When we got back to the house, we discovered another celebration taking place in front of our home. More fireworks and effigies. Hugs and kisses all around. Also patient explanations and well wishing.

So far I am liking 2012 quite a lot. Happy New Year everyone!

Nothing left to do

2011-12-29T04:12:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting in my office. That's what Eric calls my park bench in Santiago Park. There's something about this place that always calms me.

It's shady. I like the sound of the fountain. I can sit here for hours just letting the outside world seep into my senses.

Pigeons search for crumbs nearby. There is a constant parade of familiar faces. Whiffs of spices from the nearby restaurants. Vendor's cries. Honking cars on Calle 59. Giggling children in the nearby playground. The clang of the church's bells.

When I close my eyes, time doesn't seem linear any longer. It skips like an old record, repeating itself over and over. An albanil's hammer bangs in the distance. The smell of diesel fumes. The scent of a passing woman's shampoo. The albanil's hammer bangs in the distance. It's like I've always been here and Santiago Park has always been like it is today.

I have this overriding and numbing feeling of resignation to the moment. I am surrounded by the realization that I have nothing left to do and no place left to go. I am free to sit around and watch the world unwind for the next thousand years or so.

Mexico is a country where nonsense is the norm. Everything is a big joke here. Life, death, daily struggles, inward thinking. It all amounts to nothing, a play on words, a puzzle that can never be solved.

In the U.S. life is a serious matter. Tomorrow is a serious matter. Where I'm going to eat is a serious matter.

Here, I can finally breathe. There is no pressure to improve. Whatever happens is OK. I don't have to plot out my life. I can sit back and actually live.

Finally I am enjoying going to the office. There is nothing left to do.

Some year end thoughts on costs of living

2011-12-26T01:26:00.000-06:00

No subject concerns the potential expat more than how much it will cost him to live in Merida comfortably. The modifier "comfortably" is the difficult component in all such analyses. One person's wants are another person's needs.

My life experiences suggest to me that as my income has grown so have my spending habits. Unfulfilled wants quickly became standardized needs. Interestingly, reductions in income immediately reduced my spending habits with no reduction in happiness levels.

One year, I took a $90,000 reduction in income. There was no drop in my comfortability gauge.

When I was laid off from my job and took early Social Security, my comfortability gauge remained on "full".

This is my fourth winter in Merida. I used to say that we would need $2000 monthly to live comfortably here. Isn't it interesting that just happens to be about the amount of my monthly pension income. Just like before I retired, I need whatever I have. I know expats in Merida with monthly incomes of $6000 who need all of that to barely get by. Others have incomes of $1000 and seem quite happy.

All of us are surrounded by locals living on $300 U.S. monthly. I guess they are all smarter than we. They certainly seem every bit as happy.

Expats are spending many times more than is needed to live comfortably. I am one of them. As the United States turns into Detroit, and businesses move to countries like China where workers earn $300 US per month, an increasing number of people living in the U.S. are going to have to reduce their cost of living. Some will move elsewhere. They will outsource their cost of living.

Every year here in Merida, my needs have shrunk. I am spending less. I am living more simply. I am becoming freer of old habits.

I have never been happier.

I still don't know how much I need to live comfortably. I do know, it's something significantly less than I am spending.

Best wishes, Everyone

2011-12-22T07:45:00.000-06:00

Another Christmas is rapidly sneaking upon us. This is my fourth time to wish you Seasons Greetings via my blog. Time, she does keep on rolling.

During this time I have been privileged to meet a few of you during your visits to Merida. Others I have come to know through comments to my blog or through direct email contacts. Still others I imagine I know from reviewing my viewer statistics. I can tell whether you are a morning person or a late night person. What country you live in. You number several thousand unduplicated readers weekly and I am privileged to be a part of your lives.

Over the years you have eavesdropped on our decision to buy a house in Merida, snooped through our finances, shaken your heads at our naivete, endured my poems and skimmed my random musings about this and that.

Both our lives have been enriched by our connections to you. Our sincere wish is that each of you, wherever you are and whatever your current life situation is, will find some needed moments of quiet and reflection during this holiday time. Life is short. Enjoy it. Be kind. Show others patience. They aren't so much different than you. Forgive and forget. Spend some regular hammock time.

There were probably many, many times this year when I may have...

Disturbed You,
Troubled You,
Pestered You,
Irritated You,
Bugged You,
Or got on your Nerves.

I've made it more difficult to comment. Some of you don't like my new format. You can never figure out when I am in Merida and when I am away.

So today, I just wanted to tell you:

Suck it up, Babyface!!

Cause there

ARE MORE CHANGES

Planned for 2012

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Hammockman and La Dulce

Nutcracker, Birthday and Green Market

2011-12-19T10:00:00.000-06:00

La Dulce got back in town Thursday night. Saturday evening we went to The Nutcracker ballet at Teatro Armando Manzanero. It was an enjoyable evening with late night al fresco dining afterwards and a leisurely stroll home to the house on Calle 61.

The ballet was performed by the Merida Ballet Group, and it was fun watching proud parents applaud their children's performances.

Sunday was English mass at the Cathedral. Services are in the frontmost little chapel on the left as you face the Cathedral's front. They begin at 9:15 a.m. and last until maybe 10:00 a.m. Probably half the attendees are non-Catholic. The Rector of the Cathedral, Father Roberto, leads the service. He has a good sense of humor and an inquisitive mind. We celebrated his birthday afterwards.

Then we stopped by a new Green Market at Santiago Park. It will be held every third Sunday of each month. Lots of plants, food items and environmentally friendly products. Also 60 peso massages and music. We bought some lasagna and a tomato plant.

During the afternoon I watched the Kansas City Chiefs end the Green Bay Packers win streak while Susan napped.

It was another nice weekend in Merida.

Virgen de Guadalupe

2011-12-15T11:03:00.000-06:00

The Virgen of Guadalupe is celebrated throughout Mexico on December 12. In Merida most of the celebrations are centered around the San Cristobal church at Calles 50 and 69.

Caravans of devoted pilgrims from Yucatan and surrounding states conclude their journeys at San Cristobal. It is quite an emotional time for the faithful as they receive the priest's blessing and enter the church. The requisite vendors of food and religious items complement the tableau.

For the week preceding December 12, no matter the weather nor time of day, you discover processions of pilgrims on streets throughout Merida. Most pedestrians pause and reverently watch the moment. A few cars will honk their horns impatiently as they are slowed from their self-proclaimed importance.

The story of the peasant Juan Diego and his encounter with the 15 year old Indian Mary is fundamental to understanding the place of the Catholic faith within Mexico. Every year, at daybreak, I am at San Cristobal sharing with the throngs of faithful. It aids me in better understanding my fellow Meridanos as well as my own faith journeys.

And it's great people watching.

Oc'-Ohtic 2011

2011-12-12T18:48:00.000-06:00

Oc'-Ohtic is a week long International Contemporary Dance Festival within the larger Annual Festival of the Arts. Each evening's performances were held in the Armando Manzanero Theater and were free.

This year I attended three of the performances including one by the Asheville North Carolina Dance Company, one by Diane Ormsby's Company from Mexico City and The Fortune of Desire performed by the Foramen M Ballet group from Cuernavaca.

The events are really quite extraordinary. Only a handful of expats were in the audience each evening. I am not sure why that is. Expats are seen in abundance at the Symphony and gallery openings but for some reason stay away from this festival and the larger Arts Festival.

Oc--Ohtic equals and exceeds the caliber of the Symphony. Anyone who saw the final night's Carmina Burana saw an exceptional creative and artistic offering. It was stunning.

You simply must start attending this exceptional festival. Please give it a try next year.

La Flor de Santiago

2011-12-08T07:22:00.000-06:00

A few of us guys have coffee every week and catch up on happenings. We met at La Flor de Santiago on Mondays but may have to find a new spot. One of our number says they will soon be shutting down and our waiter seemed to confirm that. What a loss.

La Flor de Santiago is the oldest continuously operating restaurant in Merida. It has the feel of a place in Havana or perhaps Spain. I have enjoyed the weekend brunch many times and the trova trio that accompanies your dining. The staff have become old friends to me.

Their bakery section has closed. Their grand old expresso/coffee machine broke and has been removed. When I asked for some leche for my coffee, I was told they no longer had leche and that I would need to satisfy myself with the powdered substitute. They are working their inventories down prior to closing.

One of the hardest things about growing old is that many of your friends "pass" before you. Apparently I will be losing another dear friend.

On my way home to the house on Calle 61 I stopped for a few moments in Santiago Park. There I watched a young professor deal with his concerns of life.

We are all thought wrestlers. Spinning wheels keep on turning.

State Fair and AANY

2011-12-06T12:54:00.000-06:00

Last Friday and Saturday I went to the State Fair in Xmatkuil and the AANY art show in Merida which is largely for expats. I think it was my fifth visit to each over the past few years and both are kind of losing their appeal for me. More of the same o same o.

The State Fair continues to offer good people watching opportunities and that benefit alone will likely draw me back another year. I do enjoy the livestock exhibits. You can't take the country out of the boy even when you have taken the boy out of the country.

I remember taking my son, Isaac, last year when he was visiting. He had to hit all the carney sideshows with their two headed babies and roosters with horns. I was raised on such chicanery so it was only natural that they sucked him in, too.

The trip out by bus (6 pesos each way) is fun. It leaves from Calle 69 between Calles 58 y 60 and travels south outside the city to the fairgrounds. I enjoy evaluating the many purchases by the fair attendees on the homeward ride. Some manage to haul amazing collections of stuff back with them.

The people watching opportunities at the art show weren't nearly so mesmerizing.
We expats are largely a bland group. It is, however, a chance to see some friends you haven't seen for awhile and renew developing friendships with some of the vendors.

I didn't see much new. Some guy with wood carvings with hidden sex references depending upon how you viewed his work somehow sneaked past the selection committee. For a moment, I thought I was back at the State Fair.

I suppose if they have another showing in the Spring this year, I will wander over again. It's becoming sort of a tradition this time of year.

Part of a Single Whole

2011-12-02T07:55:00.001-06:00

From one of the information signs at the Chocolate Museum

"The Mayas believed that everything on the earth formed part of a single whole--all living beings with the same spiritual value. Trees, animals and man were all the same, and had to live with mutual respect in order to live in harmony. The mountains, jungle, springs of water and rivers, caves (aktun) and cenote were all believed to be holy places where the gods lived."

"It was in these places , and in the plazas of the pyramids, that the Mayas worshipped their gods. The priest (h-men) raised altars with worked stones or palms and burned copal (pom) so that the smoke of this incense would carry their prayers to the gods."

Or as Naturalist Jim often says, "All of us are sensors for the one Universe that is."

Animal Spirit

2011-12-01T01:02:00.000-06:00

I wish there were a cat in me

Giving love like a huge favor

But there's just a little puppy

Begging for it

Tanja Bulovic

Eco Museum of Chocolate

2011-11-29T15:04:00.000-06:00

Last Thursday, La Dulce somewhat reluctantly gave up a Thanksgiving Buffet at the Hyatt for a trip with friends to Uxmal. She is one of those many people who think that if you are not feasting you are not properly celebrating the day. She was anxious to see Uxmal, however, so off we went for a different kind of feasting. At least we would be with friends, another important component of that day for her.

After a little extra time driving the streets of Uman (multiple navigators are often a problem), we arrived around 9:30 a.m. at Uxmal. Uxmal was its usual, quiet self. Serene and verdant. Glimpses of hidden archaeology. Tastefully sited complexes and grand structures. Scurrying iguanas. Scattered handfuls of people in awe. You're in a special place and you know it.

Susan, as the youngster among us, climbed the grand pyramid and tested the echo qualities of the Magician's Pyramid. Amongst her many "oohs" and "ahs", she kept saying it was everything I had said and more.

As the tour groups from Merida began arriving, we departed for Santa Elena where we ate lunch at Valerie Pickle's lovely little retreat called the Pickled Onion. What began as a restaurant for travelers has grown into a small complex of rooms in small thatched roof Maya houses and a delightful pool and massage area. This would be a peaceful place to spend a few days with some books away from Merida's hustle and bustle.

Based on Valerie's recommendation we cancelled the Caves of Loltun and went to the Chocolate Museum. And what a fantastic recommend it was.

Located on the Ruta Puuc between the archaeological sites of Xlapak and Labná, it is part of the Ticul Plantation. The chocolate plantation is five years old but the museum opened just this past July. Both are the projects of some Belgian investors and chocolatiers. Since the Mayas (and Aztecs) were the discoverers of chocolate over 3,000 years ago, it is only fitting that there should be a museum dedicated to teaching the history of this special treat.

This is as nice of a museum presentation as I have experienced. It consists of a series of thatched roof Maya houses along a path filled with local plants. Descriptive signage is excellent and in good English. The pathways are a gardeners dream.

Each house features a different theme. One gives the visitor a glimpse of the Mayan culture and cocoa and the relationship with the gods and their ceremonial rituals in the use of this sacred ingredient. In another, you will see how the Mayas lived, see some original typical objects, plus an enacted Mayan burial that shows offerings of cocoa pods. Just outside this house is the typical Mayan kitchen, a wild orchid garden, and the area with the melipona bees – the stinger-less bees that are instrumental in the cocoa bean growing process.

At the last Maya home, you will see how the cocoa beans are toasted, peeled, ground, re-ground, then ground again, before the savory chocolate drink that you will be offered is prepared.

Another Maya structure features gifts and chocolates. Their chocolates are featured in several of the finer chocolate shops in Merida, such as Rosas y Xocolate and ki' Xocolatl on Calle 55.

This development is more than a chocolate museum. It is an ecological preserve. You stroll through shaded forests with little surprises around every bend.

On the grounds you will find parking, bathrooms and craft shop, all wheelchair accessible. General admission is 90 pesos. Teachers, students and seniors 50 pesos. Children 6 – 12 are 40 pesos. Kids under 6 are free. Open daily 9 AM to 6 PM.

Try to visit this place. It combines nicely with Uxmal in complimenting your experience of the Maya culture.

We returned to Merida as darkness descended.

On Saturday, thanks to Yury at Slow Foods Market, La Dulce was able to get her fix of traditional Thanksgiving food. Things have a way of working out here in the land of the Maya.

65 and picking up speed

2011-11-25T08:52:00.000-06:00

La Dulce and I have been busy with a lot more than just conjugating. On Monday we rode with a friend to Sisal. Susan had never been there so it was nice to show her that special place.

On the way into town we saw a handful of flamingos feeding in the mangrove swamp just as you enter town.

The Gulf was rough and chocolaty, probably hangovers from rainy and hurricane seasons. It was windy. Not calm with blue clear water like on my visits last January, February and March. Still it is the ocean and it was nice to smell the salt air and walk on the beach.

Normally the town is empty of people. On this occasion there were maybe 15-20 visitors snooping around. (It was the day following Revolution day and was a holiday for many.) Luckily we were the only foreigners.

We ate lunch at La Palapa de Soco. It was crowded and the staff were harried. Food wasn't quite up to par. Apparently even paradise has some off days.

Bread lady, Sofia, did not disappoint. We spent some delightful moments talking with her and then returned to Merida.

Tuesday, while sitting in Santiago Park and accessing the internet, we were approached by a lady wanting to know if were were interested in buying a house in Merida. We said we weren't but that we had some friends who might be, so off we went to tromp through three houses in the area. We had a fun time.

Wednesday was my 65th birthday so I am now officially a Medicare participant, but only for the free Part A hospital coverage. I declined Part B, since I am covered under Susan's insurance from her employment. I can enroll later with no penalty, if I so choose.

We took a birthday swim in our birthday suits in Mermaid Pool. When I was a child, my Mother prided herself that she could still fit into her wedding dress. When we were in Florida earlier this month on Veteran's Day, my father-in-law lamented the fact he could no longer fit into his old army uniform. In the pool, La Dulce commented that my birthday suit fit me perfectly. Her words were just the birthday present that I needed. Apparently I have an inner tailor who makes the necessary adjustments as I go through life.

That evening I celebrated with a meal at Frida's. (My inner tailor worked throughout the night making some small adjustments.) It was a good meal with the love of my life and the fitting end to a milestone day.

Conjugal Visits

2011-11-21T09:17:00.000-06:00

La Dulce arrived in Merida Friday night. I had only been here without her for six days. She jokingly refers to her visits as my conjugal visits. Saturday morning she said we had conjugated particularly well the night before. I think she may have mixed her adjective up with her verb, but who am I to correct mi amor.

While I was waiting for the Houston flight's arrival, I enjoyed people watching. All the locals dress up to greet their loved ones. There are lots of five inch high heels, short skirts, fancy dresses and lots of make-up. The North End wealthy elite are particularly prone to such displays but all la gente approaches the time of greeting as a time for putting their very best fronts forward.

What a contrast we expats are. Flip flogs, shorts and untucked t-shirts. La Dulce shamed my attire with her colorful top, stretch jeans and boots. Ah, the seduction of a retiree's uniform du jour. What was I thinking?

Sunday there was a huge parade downtown celebrating one of Mexico's national holidays. I think it was Revolution Day, which my memory seems to recall was on November 20. The parade lasted for hours and was of a very patriotic bent. We enjoyed it more than Carnaval. There was such a proud Mexican theme to everything. It included wresting matches and boxing bouts on the back of trucks.
Spectacles abounded.

Below are a few pictures from the morning.

When you are a people watcher, everyday is a parade day. Still, formal parades are a welcome occasional treat.

Fontebecci, Take 5

2011-11-17T10:27:00.001-06:00

In the past I have written about the restaurant, Fontebecci. It has had a rocky history, starting in Santa Ana, moving to Paseo Montejo, then to El Centro on Calle 57 and finally to the home of its owners. Yubicely Castano and her husband, Ruben do an excellent job but have had problems finding the right location.

Several weeks ago they opened a new venture near UMSA University on Calle 47 x 70 y 72 #532C. It is called Ixoye and is geared toward the surrounding student population, lots of snacks, sandwiches and beverages. Their menu does include some of their old standbys like lasagna, spaghetti bolognesa and chicken tenders.

Currently they are open from 10:30 until 6:00 but are considering testing some evening hours and adding pizza and expanded pasta offerings at those times.

It was great to see Yubi again and to enjoy her food. Last year she fed me well many times and I am glad she is back for some repeat pampering this winter.

Back home

2011-11-14T19:05:00.000-06:00

Saturday morning I was awakened by happy song birds, accompanied by proud roosters. I had slept in the house on Calle 61 for the first time in seven months

Claude, our French caretaker, was readying the house for my arrival when I got there Saturday afternoon. He proudly showed me the new garden growth and some little changes he had made.

Sunday I went to the English mass service at the Cathedral. Father Roberto was genuinely happy to see me back. Only a handful of expats from last year were present. Perhaps it is to early in the season for them. After mass I watched families pose for special occasion pictures outside the Cathedral.

Betanzos and Lobo greeted me at their artist market. Lobo and I talked philosophy for a long time.

Then it was time to have tacos at Sabrina's stand in Lucia Park. She greeted me warmly and fed me well. Her daughter from France was back again this year for the month and I got to see her. I listened to the band and watched the dancers for a while. My two favorites were missing. Perhaps they will be participating next week.

It's satisfying to be back. The world is once again spinning on greased skids.

Buddha Wisdom 3

2011-11-10T01:53:00.000-06:00

The ultimate way is without difficulty; those who seek it make their own hardship. The true mind is originally pure; those who exercise it make their own defilement.
- Hui-k'ung

Everything is as it is. It has no name other than the name we give it. It is we who call it something; we give it a value. We say this thing is good or it's bad, but in itself, the thing is only as it is. It's not absolute; it's just as it is. People are just as they are.
- Ajahn Sumedho, "The Mind and the Way"

If you concentrate, enter trance, and sit in meditation, focusing on an objective, setting your mind on awareness and contemplation, practicing the way like a mechanical mannequin, when will you ever arrive at the goal?
- Pao-chih

When you try to get rid of fear or anger, what happens? You just get restless or discouraged and have to go eat something or smoke or drink or do something else. But if you wait and endure restlessness, greed, hatred, doubt, despair, and sleepiness, if you observe these conditions as they cease and end, you will attain a kind of calm and mental clarity, which you will never achieve if you're always going after something else.
- Ajahn Sumedho, "The Mind and the Way"

Fishmongers

2011-11-07T01:39:00.000-06:00

"Consumers Reports" recently disclosed that buyers of fish in the United States cannot be sure the fish they purchase is as it was labeled. They acquired fish samples from grocers, fish markets and restaurants and had them DNA tested to confirm identities. All purchased sole was found to be actually flounder. No red snapper could be verified. They found consumers were often over paying for mislabeled fish.

Life is much simpler in Merida. My fishmonger comes by the house on Calle 61 with his catch of the day. The shrimp, oysters and octopi are clearly identifiable. Sometimes he has Red Snapper. Other times its some species I don't know. I've always liked what I've bought.

The secret is to not ask him if he has a specific fish but rather to simply ask what he has. If I were to ask if he had a specific fish, he might say "Yes" because of his desire to please me. There's no pressure on him if I simply ask what he has today.

He's even invited me to go fishing with him. How's that for a random verification system?

Fellow Travelers

2011-11-03T01:56:00.000-05:00

Last week La Dulce and I were pleased to have a couple of good friends from near Buffalo, New York stay with us. We met Eric and Mary through my blog on one of their visits to Merida and have become close friends. We were honored to have them as guests in our little lake cottage here in Kansas on their drive through to Merida.

They arrived on a beautiful Fall afternoon, and we proudly showed them around our little community and enjoyed a bratwurst feast at the historic clubhouse. Fortunately they were tolerant of our dog, Clinton, as he exercised his role as household supervisor. There was frost on their windshield as they left early the next morning.

This will be their first drive to Merida, and they were properly excited by their big adventure. I believe as I am writing this post, they should be stopped for the evening in Villahermosa and will be driving on to Merida as many of you read this. Eric will be participating in the Latin America Bloggers Conference this weekend. Some of you will remember him as the straw hat guy from last year's conference. He and Mary are looking forward to five months in Merida this winter as they consider it as a possible future home.

Buen viaje, Amigos. We'll be seeing you soon. Our house is your house.

Hanal Pixan

2011-10-31T01:03:00.000-05:00

I have written in the past about Hanal Pixan which is the Mayan take on the celebration known throughout the rest of Mexico as Day of the Dead. You can read those posts here and here.

The Mayan approach is more private and involves home altars remembering deceased family members. One can catch peeks of these through open doors as you walk in neighborhoods. A few will remember someone special with a more public display in the Plaza Grande. The photo at the left is of one such altar.

I remain partial to the all night celebrations in the remainder of Mexico held in cemeteries around the grave of a loved one. Candlelight, food, flowers, music, decorations, mementos, photographs, drinks and shared stories and memories. My partiality is possibly due to my first experiences on Janitzio Island and in San Miguel.

I find both approaches more satisfying than displaying a few flowers on Memorial Day or on other special dates. Family celebrations and remembrances are beginning to trump solitary moments for me.

Haikus, Vol. 23, "Zen Capsaicin"

2011-10-27T01:18:00.000-05:00

The end edges nearer
The last pages are forming
It's been a good book.

Full dress attention.
My senses have kicked it up.
I'm on red alert.

Colors salute me.
Sounds and smells bark their orders.
Taste and feel attack.

Life is a minefield.
Bob and weave, some rope a dope.
No time to tiptoe.

Adios bland living.
Habaneros por favor.
Alive and on fire.

There's nothing to fear
The moment is all I have.
Never any more.

Nothing is passing.
Where could I possibly go?
I'm right here right now.

A fist full of pesos

2011-10-24T01:44:00.000-05:00

After two years without any cost of living adjustments, U.S. Social Security has announced a 3.6% increase for 2012. It's not exactly a fist full of dollars but it's better than the past two years.

It is sort of a fist full of pesos, however. Living in Merida, one needs pesos to spend, not dollars. Currently, exchange rates buy more pesos than they have in the past year. Since October of 2010, the peso/dollar exchange rate has fluctuated from a low of 11.50 pesos per dollar on April 20, 2011 to a high of 14.05 pesos per dollar on October 4, 2011. That's a 17.2% increase in the number of pesos your dollar could buy.

The chart below shows each months average exchange rate for the months of this year.

2011 - Mexican Pesos to 1 USD (invert)

Average Rates
January
12.1178 MXN (20 days average)
February
12.0632 MXN (20 days average)
March
12.0055 MXN (23 days average)
April
11.7131 MXN (20 days average)
May
11.6518 MXN (22 days average)
June
11.8109 MXN (22 days average)
July
11.6723 MXN (21 days average)
August
12.2322 MXN (23 days average)
September
13.0344 MXN (22 days average)
October
13.49 MXN (14 days average)

On average, since January until October 20, your dollar now buys 11.3% more pesos.

I like to think of my Social Security being paid in pesos since I convert it into pesos before spending it. So it feels like I am currently getting 11.3% more than in January (15.2% more than in April) and will be getting an additional 3.6% in December with the Social Security increase.

It's starting to look like a fist full of pesos.

Fall Festival of the Arts

2011-10-20T03:41:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow begins the annual Fall Festival of the Arts. I consider this Merida's premier cultural event.

This year's festival runs from October 21 through December 12 at various venues in the city. The Festival honors Sergio Esquivel, a composer and singer known throughout Mexico. He will open the Festival with a concert Friday night at 9:00 p.m. at the Peon Contreras Opera House. Admission is free as are most festival events.

The festival lineup includes dance, theatre, music, poetry, cinema and art. You can check out each days offerings and their locations here. Click on "Cartelera" and then the calendar date. Or you can pick up a festival program in the lobby of Peon Contreras.

I encourage you to attend several performances. It's an excellent opportunity to introduce yourself to the city's many theaters and talented artists.

It's hard to pull the trigger

2011-10-17T01:59:00.000-05:00

Few cross over the river. Most are stranded on this side. On the riverbank they run up and down. But the wise person, following the way, crosses over, beyond the reach of fear.

Free from fear. Free from desire. Free from possessions. Free from attachment.

A great awakening. A fresh start. In this world the brave person becomes himself a light. Pure, shining, free.

- adapted from the Dhammapada

In the past I have written about how difficult it is for many of us to pull the trigger when it comes to retiring from the imaginary safety of our employment and boldly becoming free to do whatever we want. Our hesitation is understandable giving the many voices we hear which caution us about all the surprises which may impact our futures. Somehow we are supposed to accumulate an investment amount which will cushion us for all such attacks.

Most of our life experiences suggest that we pretty much spend whatever we have so we can't imagine how we could possibly live on income amounts significantly less.

Until the day we lose our job and learn to quickly make major adjustments in our spending habits. We find the security we thought we had was all an illusion anyway.

I have confessed to you that I retired at age 62 only because I was fortunate enough to be laid off from my job and retirement was pretty much the option remaining to me. My analyses and the analyses of professionals was that La Dulce and I would be very comfortable given our choice of a retirement in another country. Yet we didn't pull the trigger and if someone hadn't done it for me, I would likely still be employed. And I would have missed out on 3 years of escaping to Merida every winter.

You never have enough when you live in the U.S. And that makes it a very scary place.

It's freeing to live among others who aren't hung up on an obsession with financial security. Downsizing my wants has freed me. I like paying my own way when it comes to medical needs rather than allowing a company selected insurance plan to limit my choices. I've never been happier.

It's time to quit running up and down the river bank and cross to the other side. Lots of other brave folks have gone before you. Follow their lights.

The geese are calling me

2011-10-13T01:51:00.000-05:00

It's nearly mid October. The trees are changing into their fall colors and part of the lake's geese population seems to have already begun their annual migration to warmer climes. The convoy that left this morning was particularly loud in their leaving. They made an extra pass by our front dining room window like they were personally reminding me that I needed to start packing.

The area's Interstate Highways are funneling RV's with northern state license plates southward to their winter nesting sites in South Texas. Snowbirds have undoubtedly already begun filling Continental's evening flight to Merida from Houston. The great annual southward migrations are underway.

The journeys are a little different for each person. Some are looking forward to reunions with friends. Some are on adventures. Others are looking for something. Still others are fleeing something. Often freezing temperatures and snow. Sometimes problems. Some hope for a fresh start. The Houston plane will be packed with many possibilities. Merida's population of pale legs in bright shorts will soon be exploding.

I usually begin my 5 month winter hiatus in Merida the end of each October. This year I will be a little later as I want to accompany La Dulce on one of her business trips to Florida and check on our house purchase there. Then I will be flying from Orlando to Cancun on JetBlue for $79 one way!

The geese are calling me. Soon I will be on my way.

Bored

2011-10-10T01:52:00.000-05:00

All those times I was bored
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
distances between things, or pounded
stakes into the ground for rows and rows
of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored)
weeded. Or sat in the back
of the car, or sat still in boats,
sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel
he drove, steered, paddled. It
wasn't even boredom, it was looking,
looking hard and up close at the small
details. Myopia. The worn gunwales,
the intricate twill of the seat
cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular
pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans
of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying
bristles on the back of his neck.
Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes
I would. The boring rhythm of doing
things over and over, carrying
the wood, drying
the dishes. Such minutiae. It's what
the animals spend most of their time at,
ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels,
shuffling the leaves in their burrows. He pointed
such things out, and I would look
at the whorled texture of his square finger, earth under
the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier
all the time then, although it more often
rained, and more birdsong?
I could hardly wait to get
the hell out of there to
anywhere else. Perhaps though
boredom is happier. It is for dogs or
groundhogs. Now I wouldn't be bored.
Now I would know too much.
Now I would know.

Margaret Atwood

Who moved my cheese

2011-10-06T10:55:00.000-05:00

My apologies to those of you who struggle with change. After over three years of blogging with the same tired format, I recently switched to Blogger's new Dynamic Views layout. It's much crisper and faster loading and features lots of previously posted photos. Perhaps I am tiring of words and am turning to pictures. Maybe I am just tiring.

I like the feature of readers being able to choose any of seven layout modes. I am currently using "Magazine" but also like "Mosaic" and "Flipcard". You can select any of the seven from the toolbar at the upper left.

Some previous features are gone, like my blog list and "Moment of Zen", but perhaps these will return as Dynamic Views evolves.

Sometimes you've got to give the dice some extra shakes if you are looking for different results.

Kansas International Film Festival

2011-10-03T08:50:00.000-05:00

I've been volunteering at the Kansas International Film Festival again this year. I think it's my tenth year of participating in this event.

I enjoy independent films and documentaries. Unfortunately, with the dumbing down of journalism today and its control by advertising dollars, this is one of the few remaining vehicles for the sharing of important alternative viewpoints.

The discussions with the film makers and actors as well as with the audience members are unusually stimulating. After the week, I always feel like I've been on a spiritual retreat of sorts. I am refreshed and hopeful. It's no wonder those powers, political and otherwise, which want to control our thoughts and allegiances, are strong opponents of such formats.

One of my favorites thus far this year was a Documentary called Lesson Plan. At a California high school in 1967, teacher Ron Jones began an experiment in his history class to demonstrate how the Nazis manipulated the German citizens during World War II. Branding themselves the Third Wave, the class introduced membership cards and salutes. Students became self-appointed bodyguards and informers and were outwardly aggressive to non-members. The class grew to 200 within one week, causing this landmark experiment to spiral out of control. The movie shows how very simple yet powerful methods can easily transform group dynamics into group control. Regrettably, it's easy to see how I have been affected by such forces in the past and my tendencies toward future similar seductions.

Life in Merida provides me with many opportunities to think outside the norm. Soon the annual Fall Festival of the Arts will be including some thought provoking movies and discussions, and there are always the regular offerings at Cairo Cinema and LA68.

"It's OK to think while watching movies." Stan Brakhage

Midnight in Tampico

2011-09-29T17:20:00.000-05:00

When I was 15, my family drove with my grandparents to Tampico for a few days. In 1961, Tampico was the oilfield capital of Mexico and was also famous for its tarpon fishing. We stayed at a small hotel near the beaches where we met a couple of gringo fishermen. They told us about a guy named Bruno who would take you out tarpon fishing for $2/hour.

My grandpa and I prided ourselves as pretty fair fishermen. My dad made a phone call and that night we went looking for Bruno down along the docks. Somehow we located his little fish camp. His wife said Bruno was out with a couple of guys but should be back "ahorita".

We waited in the moonlight. Sure enough Bruno tied up in a few minutes with our fellow hotel buddies who unloaded a couple of huge tarpon. Bruno agreed to take the four of us out for a quick two hour trip because the water was beginning to get rough. Two of us would fish at a time.

Bruno's boat was maybe a 24 foot open boat with a 60 hp Evinrude motor. My brother and I started the fishing. It wasn't a lot of sport. Our rods were short and stiff and our line must have been 500 pound test. We trolled our baits along the main ship channel.

Soon I was seasick and ready to surrender my rod when it felt like a VW Beetle hit my line. After maybe ten minutes of pulling and reeling, the line went slack (gratefully). All I wanted was to lie down in the boat. But Bruno kept yelling to reel, that the fish was running towards the boat. Sure enough the line tightened and a silvery beauty burst out of the water into the full moon's light. We were all speechless except for Bruno who kept yelling instructions in Spanglish. After a series of jumps along the water's surface, the tarpon tired and was gaffed by Bruno into the boat. My fish and I collapsed together onto the floor of the boat and the others took their turns fishing. No other tarpon were landed that night. The waves continued to swell and we headed back a few minutes early.

For the last 50 years that nights memory has cradled me.

Recently I have been hearing about fishing for baby tarpon with fly rods in the mangrove swamps just over the Campeche state line at a place called Isla Arenas. Maybe this will be the year I give that a try. I understand the waters are much calmer there.

Food shopping made easy

2011-09-26T07:41:00.000-05:00

For many years I have enjoyed the small, one room groceries scattered throughout Mexico. They remind me of the little stores in rural America that were vanishing when I was 5 or 6 years old. My grandmother used to take me to one when I was visiting her. I always seemed to need my afternoon candy fix, and my grandma seemed to enjoy chatting with the lady who ran the little store.

Over my lifetime, supermarkets replaced the small entrepreneurs and they in turn were replaced by Walmarts and big warehouse club stores. Grocery shopping became a big deal. By careful planning you could buy a week's worth of groceries in one trip.

Now my food needs have become much simpler. I buy what I need for one meal or a day only. It becomes an adventure adapting my menu to what might be available on a particular day. I like that I can buy only an egg or two, perhaps a torta just made that day or a chaya, cheese tamale. Occasionally I supplement my finds with an offering from one of the continuously streaming vendors outside my door.

Like my grandmother, I look forward to these daily interactions with my neighbors and friends. Old style friends not vast circles of "friends"on Facebook.

Sure, I pay a little more per item but I buy a lot fewer items. And I am supporting a neighbor who greets me by name. No paid Walmart greeter for me.

I have four such little tiendas within two blocks of our house. Simple living in the tropics.

A Summer Home

2011-09-22T15:57:00.000-05:00

During the past month, La Dulce and I have made a couple of trips to Florida to look at properties to buy. Susan spent her teenage years in Florida and her parents, two brothers and a sister still live there along with many nieces and nephews.

Since 2006, Florida real estate has been very depressed and it is possible to buy quality properties for less than you can in Merida. Because La Dulce is 14 years younger than I and I have this desire to provide for her when she is widowed, we have been considering a back-up residence in Florida. There is no state income tax in Florida and such a move would give us a place to stay when visiting family and caring for aging parents. Economically, the timing seemed to be right to buy, and somewhat unconventionally, we will use Florida as an escape from Merida's stifling heat during the summer. The heat is a little less but not so much so that we will de-acclimatize between visits to Merida.

Our offer on a short sale has been accepted so now we will be waiting for several months to see if the lien holders will also accept.

Then we will begin our selling effort of our Kansas lake cottage, lest we, like John McCain end up with more houses than we can count.

One step forward and two back in our efforts to simplify.

No mas

2011-09-19T07:20:00.000-05:00

Recently my friend, Marc, in his blog An Alaskan in Yucatan wrote of the differences in socializing with locals in Mexico versus the expat community. He contrasted large gatherings of Mexican family and friends with expat cocktail parties and gallery openings that seem to me to be a little like "speed dating". One group welcomes you in as you are and the other is consumed with your past positions and credentials. Marc says at such events he feels as if "my job is to do a little personal PR presentation to each one I meet".

I guess there must be people who enjoy such exchanges. I am not one of them. Perhaps I didn't play "dressing up" enough as a kid and have enough make believe tea parties. Perhaps as a bank president I endured more than my fair share of such events. And yet, I find myself falling back into the expected roles when I attend large expat gatherings.

Old habits die hard so more and more I skip such events. I don't drink so that avenue of escapism eludes me. I'm tired of trying to impress you with the remodeling of my beach house or who I know that is famous or the business I just bought. Even less am I interested in hearing of your recent "counting of coup". I'm retired and don't have to play those games anymore. I could just have stayed in the U.S. if it was more of the same I wanted.

Guys can be together for several hours and only exchange a handful of words and declare they had a great time. Maybe that is why Marc and I enjoy being with locals. The pressure to talk is absent. Our language limitations prevent lengthy diatribes. We get to simply be ourselves and enjoy the moment.

Often the food is really good, too.

My socializing now is limited to park bench exchanges, coffee with a friend or two or an evening with another couple kicked up a notch by an occasional celebration with some local neighbors.

My efforts to simplify and downsize continue.

Another break from multi-tasking

2011-09-15T11:14:00.000-05:00

Alone Looking at Mermaid Pool

All the doves have flown up and gone

A lonely cloud floats leisurely by

We never tire of looking at each other

Only Mermaid Pool and I.

Adapted from Li Po

Spend some time alone every day

2011-09-12T03:32:00.000-05:00

"I have discovered that all of man's unhappiness derives from only one source, not being able to sit alone in a room."

Blaise Pascal

Buddhist Wisdom

2011-09-08T03:51:00.000-05:00

You have always been one with the Buddha so do not pretend you can attain to this oneness by various practices.
Huang Po, Zen Teaching of Huang Po

All beings are by nature Buddha, as ice by nature is water. Apart from water there is no ice; apart from beings, no Buddha.
Hakuin Zenji, "Song of Zazen"

Nothing is born; nothing is destroyed. Away with your dualism, your likes and your dislikes. Every single thing is just the One Mind. When you have perceived this, you will have mounted the Chariot of the Buddhas.
Huang Po, Teaching of Huang Po

There is nothing to which we can attach ourselves, no matter how hard we try. In time, things will change and the conditions that produced our current desires will be gone. Why then cling to them now?
Master Hsing Yun, "The Indescribable"

If you think, I breathe, the I is extra. There is no you to say I. What we call I is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale. It just moves; that is all. When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no I, no world, no mind or body; just a swinging door.
Shunryu Suzuki, "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind"

A Cultured Place

2011-09-05T03:53:00.000-05:00

If you are a long time reader of my blog, you know there are many reasons for my love of Merida. More than any place I have personally known, Merida is a center of music. And it's a center for music not just for those with money but for all people.

In my former life, I wasn't particularly an enjoyer of music. Lyrics were what spoke to me, not musical melodies. That has changed for me in Merida. Lyrics are much harder for me to follow and so I am freed to focus upon and enjoy the music. It's a delight to sit at a sidewalk table on a lovely evening and listen to trova musicians and sultry singers. I can do that in many different places downtown. Or in plazas I can watch dancers on Tuesdays and Thursdays or at large stages at Noche Mexicana or Domingos en Merida.

I've written this past year about special concerts and events for the populace. The Cuban National Ballet, Juanes, Banda Israel and Shakira were big events. I paid and saw the Moscow Ballet perform the Nutcracker and attended part of the symphony season. I've been entertained by musicians on street corners and on bus rides and by a Broadway singer in a courtyard. The Fall Festival of the Arts is an unbelievable series of events spread over 3 months.

And I've been won over. I am becoming a cultured guy in a cultured place.

Back home in Telchac, Chapter 4

2011-09-01T03:42:00.000-05:00

Allie wants to know if everthing is OK with me. When he was blessing me with the copal smoke he sensed something was awry. Nervously I laugh and respond that I'm having some trouble growing old, that's all. He looks into me for a long moment, puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Our aging bodies are like Mario's old Chevy."

"Some things don't work so well anymore. We are all dented and banged up. We cough and wheeze when we try to get started first thing in the morning. We could stand a new paint job. We see others driving shiny new models and are almost ashamed of the way we are. We think no one wants us anymore."

"But Mario and you and I are like the old Chevy. We've shared a lot of good times in it. Our bodies fit its sunken seat. We feel comfortable riding in it. Trips are an adventure every time. We don't want to overhaul and make new the old truck. We like her just the way she is."

"Mario and Magali have loved each other for fifty years. They've gotten some scrapes and dings. Even considered trading in for a newer model. He can't remember things very well and she no longer makes love very often. But look how happy and comfortable they are after all these years together."

He hugs me and whispers in my ear, "Happiness is a choice, mi amigo. It's a choice you might consider making."

On our walk back to the Comanche, I stop and buy Maria Elena some rose shaped earrings from the seashell girl. I stick them in my pocket and hope I don't forget I have them.

I suggest to Alejandro that we make our own ways home so Mario can spend the rest of his anniversary with Magali rather than lugging a couple of old geezers across Yucatan. Alejandro concurs.

When we get back, others have gathered at the Comanche. It's beginning to look like a celebration. We tell Mario and Magali that we are going to start our journeys back and wish them many more happy years together. They insist on cutting the cake so that we can share a piece with them. It's my favorite, chocolate.

Mario gives his present to Magali so we can watch her open it. He was right. She loved it and proudly shows her new earrings off to everyone, saying they are from "mi amor".

None of the detective team shares Mario's story of having misplaced the earrings. Some things are best kept among compatriots.

After several rounds of toasts, we make our departure and start our ways home via public transit. We split up in Merida and I arrive in Telchac late in the afternoon. Magali isn't home so I climb into a hammock and immediately fall asleep.

A few hours later, Magali gently awakens me and asks if I would like some supper. We have a nice dinner together and I chatter happily for several hours about my adventures. I tell her I am glad that I still pretty much have my mind. She responds that is not all I still have and calls me her stallion. I beam and remember the earrings in my pocket. She immediately puts them on and hugs me. I tell her I missed her.

That night we sleep in the hammock. It's more cozy and intimate.

I think, "Choosing happiness comes with benefits." Then I hum myself to sleep.

The end of Novela #1

Sleuthing in Sisal, Chapter 3

2011-08-29T03:25:00.000-05:00

The Comanche Bar is located on the main drag of Sisal. Mario and his wife, Magali, have owned and operated the place for the past 25 years. Before that, he worked in the Pino bottling plant in Merida.

After hugging us all, Magali goes inside to fix us a proper breakfast. We turn upright a table and three chairs that had been stacked for cleaning the prior night. We sit down outside the cantina and Mario begins his story.

He informs us that today is Magali's and his 50th wedding anniversary. Several weeks ago he had purchased for the occasion a set of gold hoop earrings. They had cost him 1500 pesos in Merida. He was sure Magali was going to like them. He hid them under his underwear in the box under the bed where he keeps his clothes.

In the early morning hours he had trouble sleeping so he got up quietly and checked on them for the umpteenth time. They were gone! Someone had taken them. He didn't know what to do so had driven to our places to get us, hoping we would have some ideas. He was visibly stressed and looked at us pleadingly.

Don Alejandro and I looked at each other helplessly. I'm a guy who sits in my doorway, street watching; and Allie is a dream shaper and a body slammer. Neither of us knows anything about detective work.

About this time we see Big Mike walking past. Big Mike is a retired gringo who is a regular at the Comanche. Rumor has it that he was once undercover CIA in Panama. I call him over just as Magali brings out our breakfasts. She scurries back to ready another plate for Big Mike.

I recap the situation for Mike and ask for his help. Magali returns with Mike's plate and we take a brief breakfast break. We dig into Magali's specialty of eggs scrambled together with chilaquiles. They are delicious especially with the addition of her fresh habanero salsa.

The troops are now fortified so Big Mike takes charge. He begins questioning Mario. "When was the last time you saw the earrings? Who else knew about the earrings? Have you noticed anyone strange hanging around? Has anyone other than you or Magali had access to your sleeping quarters? Is anything else missing?"

We determine the earrings went missing sometime after lunch yesterday and that no one other than Magali or Mario had access to the room they were in. Mike suggests that perhaps Magali discovered them while putting Mario's underwear away. Mario said he puts his clothes away and that Magali would never disturb his things. And if she had, she would have been so excited the whole town would be knowing about it.

Mike nods and concurs that makes sense. He decides to nose around town a little and suggests we do the same. We agree to reconnoiter back at the bar in an hour.

Don Alejandro performs a copal incense smoke smudge blessing on each of us for protection and quickened sight and hearing. It at least seems to calm Mario down noticeably. We split up and go our separate sleuthing ways.

I meander over to the old fort and then sit in the plaza for awhile. I'm good at sitting and watching. Then I walk to the end of the wharf and check out the fishermen and the lovers. I see nothing suspicious. I talk with the girl selling seashell jewelry and head back to the Comanche. The others are also returning. We make our reports and realize we have "nada".

Just then my heightened hearing (gracious Don Alejandro) picks up what sounds like the click of high heels. All heads turn in unison to the right and sure enough a pretty girl in a short skirt and heels is heading our way. She is carrying a large box. As she nears us I recognize her as Sabrina from the bakery. She struts up to our table and plops down the box. Inside we see a beautifully decorated anniversary cake. Then she hands to Mario a small wrapped package and says, "Here's your present for Magali. I wrapped it like you asked. I hope you like it."

A faint "Oh my" escapes Mario's lips. "Now it all comes back to me," he says. "I took the earrings to Sabrina yesterday and asked her to wrap them for me and to make a nice cake for our little celebration. Then in the night I guess I forgot and panicked when I found them missing. Sorry, but thanks for the help, amigos."

Big Mike says, "I had fun working on it. I think we all did. After ruling out Magali, you were the only suspect left. And now you've confessed. Case closed."

It wasn't quite noon yet, but Mario bought cervezas for everyone and Sabrina joined us.

A fellow could get used to the glamorous life of a detective.

Don Alejandro pulls me aside and says he wants to talk to me. I agree to take a walk with him.

Telchac, one day later, Chapter 2

2011-08-25T03:36:00.000-05:00

The pounding on my door awakens me. I must have finally slept after another night of tossing and turning.

I nearly fall while rushing to put on my trousers.

Opening the door I find my older brother, Mario. He's out of breath and red-eyed. He gives me a strong abrazo and says, "Get dressed, Juanito. I need your help." Then he turns and climbs into his battered Chevy pickup which is parked a few feet away.

I grab a shirt and my sandals, kiss Maria goodbye and climb up into the truck. Mario grinds the gears and we race away. After maybe ten minutes, he says, "We are stopping in Dzitya to pick up Don Alejandro." Still no mention of what this is all about. As I button up my shirt, I wonder why we need Alejandro? He's a Mayan shaman who moonlights occasionally at Jose's gym in Merida as a masked wrestler called the Brown Tornado. I wonder whether he's needed for his insight or for his muscle?

I suppose Mario will tell me in his own good time. I roll down my window, rest my arm on the opening and enjoy the ride. I love early mornings in the Yucatan. I hum softly to myself.

We pull up to Don Alejandro's house and Mario honks the horn. Out rushes Alejandro in full holy man regalia. He climbs in, pushes me to the middle and off we go.

Sweet smells fill the truck cab. Allie reaches into his woven bag and removes a small bundle wrapped in newspaper. Soon we are enjoying still warm panuchos. My humming increases. Still no mention of what this is about.

At Hunucma, we take the road to Sisal, and I now know we are going to Mario's home town. I just don't know why.

Salt air enters the truck. We are entering Sisal. We pull up to the Comanche Bar and park. Magali rushes out to greet us, happy to see her husband safely back.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes. I am about to learn why I have been brought here.

The view from my hammock II

2011-08-22T03:26:00.000-05:00

There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace.
You will find that deep place of silence right in
your room, your garden or even your bathtub.
- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, 1926-2004

When we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves,
it is useless to seek it elsewhere.
- Francois de la Rochefoucauld, 1613-1680

I want to look at life–at the common places of existence–
as if we have just turned a corner and ran into it for the first time.
- Christopher Fry, 1907-2005

I would rather have a mind opened by wonder than one closed by belief.
- Gerry Spence, 1929-

It took me a lot of years to get this look. What was I thinking?
- Hammockman, 1946-

Tossing and turning in Telchac, Chapter 1

2011-08-18T03:48:00.000-05:00

I wake up. It's 3:00 a.m. Again. This is becoming predictable. Finally the overhead ventilador has won the battle to drive out the mass of hot air accumulated from the day. I have grabbed a few moments of sleep.

Except for the occasional whine of Ramon's dog, all is quiet. A sliver of the moon softly lights the bed. I watch Maria Elena's breathing beside me. We have lived together 45 years.

In another hour, Carlos will be rising to join Ramon in the blue boat named Terecita. My father and I crafted the boat many years ago. I was 11 or 12. I scrawled the name in crooked letters. My father couldn't read nor write. Teresa was a pretty chica down the beach. My dad and I both agreed she would be a good name for our new boat. These fifty plus years later, I still remember Terecita's dark eyes and the way she would look at me. Later she ran away with a fire eater from Campeche.

For fifty years I would get up at 4:00 a.m. and ride Terecita through the breaking waves to the red snapper beds many kilometers off shore. First I went with my papa, then later with my son, Carlos. Now I have been replaced by the neighbor, Ramon. My arthritic hands and bum knee have ended my fishing days. I no longer know what to do with myself.

Every morning I look at the stranger in the mirror, then shave and brush my teeth. I put on a clean, pressed shirt and and sit in the doorway, street watching. A pretty girl named Marta used to stop every morning and flirt with me. Now she hurries to catch the collectivo to Merida where she cleans the house of a gringo. She no longer has time for me. She dreams of much bigger fish.

Mid days I move to the kitchen where Maria and I have our lunch of fish, beans and tortillas. Today's huachinango was covered in the green garlic sauce I like so much. I hear a flock of gulls laughing in the wind.

Back to my front door perch, I wonder and I remember. I still have desire. But no one desires me. Father Roberto says I must be strong. It is my burden to bear now.

For many years Maria Elena and I made the love in our bed, sometimes several times. She called me her stallion. Often in the night, I would become aroused. I would touch her softness, she would turn to me and we would again become one.

That stopped several years ago. Now she tells me that it is late and to go back to sleep. What am I to do with my desire at 3:00 a.m.? After so many times of being denied, I no longer reach out. I will suffer no more rejection.

All I want is to be wanted one more time.

What was I thinking?

2011-08-15T03:03:00.000-05:00

Last month I read a newspaper article about efforts to revive regional wrestling in the Kansas City area. When I was a kid, it was pretty popular in the Midwest; and my brother and I used to fairly regularly watch it late Saturday night on a television station coming out of St. Joseph. Texas Bob Geigel, Bulldog Bob Brown and Harley Race were local favorites.

With the advent of cable television and National promoters like WWE, the regional "farm teams" sort of disappeared. Since this effort at revival was taking place in a former high school gym near our house; and I could buy front row seats for $20, I decided we would attend our first professional wrestling event.

What an experience! Intentionally camp and kitsch, it was cheesy, exaggerated and theatrical with dashes of carnival barkers thrown in. A Liberace like guy was the announcer. It reminded me a little of attending the old Rocky Horror Picture Show cult showings.

Some audience members were in costumes, wigs or wrestler masks. Some had signs. Many had chants for various wrestlers. There were lots of spectator interactions with personalities. We could have been part of a Renaissance street fair.

The opening several matches were particularly fun. In the beginning stages of the night, fans recognized they were watching choreographed entertainment and they simply enjoyed it as such. Everyone was having a good time. And then things began to change. Many audience members began to get caught up in the script. Like watching a television novela, they forgot the matches weren't real. They allowed themselves to be upset when the referee missed seeing something. When he had his back turned and the bad gut hit the good guy with a chair and ended up winning. When the Kansas guy got beaten by a Hollywood pretty boy, they were especially angry.

The promoters masterfully played their ticket holders, thereby insuring their return to the next event. All in all, it was an interesting night. Kind of the way many of us participate in regular life following someone else's script unknowingly.

What's this got to do with Merida? It made me homesick for the street performers and the clowns in the main square. And maybe just a little bit for the televised Mexican vaudeville show with midgets and buxom women and slapstick skits.

The view from my hammock

2011-08-11T03:30:00.000-05:00

My formula for living is quite simple.
I get up in the morning and I go to bed at night.
In between I occupy myself as best I can.
- Cary Grant, 1904-1986

Inside myself is a place where I live all alone
and that’s where you renew your springs
that never dry up.
- Pearl S. Buck, 1892-1973

I long, as does every human being,
to be at home wherever I find myself.
- Maya Angelou, 1928-

How beautiful it is to do nothing,
and then rest afterward.
- Spanish proverb

You can see a lot just by observing.
- Yogi Berra, 1925-

From a Florida beach

2011-08-08T03:42:00.000-05:00

La Dulce and I are back from a few days in Florida. She was working and I tagged along and spent time with her family. While there, we celebrated her birthday.

One day I went to the Port Orange beach with her sister-in-law and four nieces and nephews. It was a great day. The sky was clear. The sand was fine and soft. The water was refreshingly cool. The beach was nearly deserted. The company was good. It was my kind of day.

Lying quietly in the shade of our little cabana my mind was busy and coalesced around some thoughts.

All that lies between you and the life of your dreams is just one little rule. There is only one principle that matters.

It's not love. It's not God. It's not fate, or luck, or karma. It's not complicated or esoteric, and you needn't sacrifice, plead, or pray to invoke it. It's the only rule that's ever existed, and it's the only one that will ever exist. No reality can exist in its absence.

It's the beginning, the middle, and the end. The Alpha and the Omega. The be-all and end-all of every wish, desire, and dream. Nothing can be anything until it is first imagined. Thoughts become things, nothing else does. We are made in the image of God. It's the way all things are made. They are imaged or imagined first.

It's the thoughts you choose from here on out that will become the things and events of the rest of your life. "As a man thinketh, so is he."

Your thoughts, and your thoughts alone, will set you in motion.

Aim high.

That you're reading this blog, that you're able to read it through, means you are close. So extraordinarily close. The hardest work has been done. The wars have already been waged. The lessons have already been learned. The journey, now, is for home.

Dansk Bakery

2011-08-05T07:10:00.000-05:00

Most family trees, because of centuries of branching, aren't nearly as simple as our immediate family members might claim. And, of course, those thousands of branches are what enable us all to be related to some pretty famous people. Whoopdeedoo.

Having said that, I am basically one quarter Danish, one quarter Swedish and one quarter Polish with the remaining quarter like a watered down English flavored stew.

The older I get, the more interested I seem to be in my ancestry roots, especially the influences of nationality psyches upon me. Being removed a couple of generations from the Danes, the Swedes, the Poles and the Brits hasn't entirely freed me from some of their national personality tendencies. At least that is the excuse I use with La Dulce when she calls me out on my stubbornness, my quietness or my dry humor.

I was recently excited to learn a Danish bakery had opened in Merida. It is called Dansk bakery and is located in Colonia San Antonio Cinta at Av. 22 #44 x 3 y 7. Their hours are 9:00 am to 5:00 pm. Monday through Saturday.

A Danish/Mexican couple, Jan and Debbie Christiansen, run the shop which features delicious, typical Danish bakery goods and carry out food. The take away food is limited to that days special. Jan is a master chef following the finest Danish gastronomic traditions.

Up until now, my honoring of my Danish roots via eating has pretty much been limited to holiday ebelskivers which I love. (Pictured above.) And buying Danish butter in Merida.

I can't wait to give them a try.

Where shall we eat today?

2011-08-01T03:14:00.000-05:00

A common complaint among long time expats is that there are no good restaurants in Merida. I disagree and wonder if their lament might be misstated.

Frequently La Dulce and I will have a conversation that goes something like this: "Where shall we go eat tonight?"

"I don't know. What are you in the mood for?"

Shoulder shrug.

"Why can't we come up with anyplace to eat in this town?"

More often than not, the "town" referenced is Kansas City, not Merida. The problem isn't that Kansas City nor Merida don't have any good restaurants; the problem is we don't know what we want so no place will satisfy us.

Merida has lots of pleasant dining places. Many are made even more pleasant by being outdoors. I have decided to list 25 of my favorites. Some are dives; others are upscale. They are not listed in any particular order of preference.

More or less in El Centro:

Rescoldos
Casa Frida
Chaya Maya
Amaro
Portico del Peregrino
Panchos
El Trapiche
El Cangrejito
La Reina de Itzalana
Vito Corleone's
Rafaello
Il Caffe Italiano
Los Trompos
La Flor de Santiago
La Choperia
Fontebeci

In the area of Hotel Row and Paseo Montejo:

Spasso's
La Pigua
L' Tratto

Other neighborhoods:

La Recova
Tommy's
Wayan'e
Los Commerciales
Sensei Sushi
Italianni's

Four bonus picks in nearby villages:

Palapa de Soco, Sisal
Kinich, Izamal
Elio al Mare, Progresso/Chixulub
Thai Restaurant, Baca

I could easily list another 25.

The lack of good restaurants isn't a problem. Frankly, it's one of the many things I love about this place called "home".

Madrugada

2011-07-28T03:23:00.000-05:00

Beryl Gorbman is a long time expat in the Merida community. She calls herself the Yucatan Yenta with a regular blog which I enjoy reading. She writes well, is opinionated and gives peeks into some of the hidden aspects of living in Merida.

She has also written two books which take place in Yucatan. I have been meaning to read them for some time. Finally this week I downloaded Madrugada to my Kindle and gave it a go. I was pleasantly surprised. It was an enjoyable read for the $3.99 ebook charge.

In the book, a New York photographer, Miriam Glass, travels to an archaeological site in Yucatan to document ancient Maya artifacts. Instead, she runs into murder and intrigue. A police Lieutenant, Jose Luis Contreras, asks for her help on the case as it involves interacting with the expatriate community. Miriam navigates a series of difficult personal relationships and discovers artifacts are being looted from the ancient city of Yaxum. Greed, ambition, a grisly murder or two, romance, innocent Mayan village life and mysticism keep the reader interested.

Several of the characters are nicely developed. I particularly liked her insights into Mayan life and belief systems. The tension between that world and Western ways was respectfully presented. I recognized many of the scenes and places described which enabled me to enter more fully into the account. I am also convinced I have met a few of the crustier expat characters she has plugged into her story.

All in all, a good beach book read. I think many of my readers would enjoy escaping for a few hours into the interesting world of Madrugada.

I think I like being old

2011-07-25T03:30:00.000-05:00

Real Simple magazine recently had an article entitled 5 Great Things About Growing Old. They are:

You’ll Be Happier. You've resolved many of the big "ifs" in life and no longer sweat the small stuff.
Wise Decisions Will Come More Easily. Through the years, our brains build up connections and recognize patterns, meaning we’re better problem-solvers and can more quickly get the gist of an argument.
The fashion police will be off your back. No more high heels. You can wear what you want when you want.
You’ll Know Who You Are. A sense of urgency comes with aging. You are no longer so shy.
You’ll Have Time on Your Hands. You are finally your own boss.

I used to think retirement was the secret to my happiness. True, it gave me time on my hands and that was really important after many years of workin' for the boss or even being the boss. But there are these other components of my contentment and they are largely the result of being old.

I have perspective now. I can see the whole forest. I can make quicker decisions. I know what I like and don't like. Others don't influence me very much. I get to go skinny dipping. The clock is still ticking but more of the ticks are mine now, not someone else's.

And it's been three years since I've seen or shoveled snow.

I like being old in Merida.

Another band wagon

2011-07-21T03:11:00.000-05:00

In the past several years, Merida has received lots of publicity promoting it as an ideal retirement spot for those considering retirement living outside their home countries. Both The New York Times and International Living have advocated Merida as the top retirement location in the world. Now Kipplinger's has jumped on the bandwagon selecting 8 locations to retire from around the world, also listing Merida first.

The eight locations listed were Merida, Mexico; Lunigiana, Italy; Bocas del Toro, Panama; Granada, Nicaragua; Nha Trang, Vietnam; Roatan, Honduras; Bearn, France and Corozal, Belize. The heaviest weighting factors were cost of living and medical services.

What I particularly enjoyed about the Kipplinger investigation was the opportunity to skim over 2500 comments from readers regarding these choices. Some readers had other locations to suggest based on their life experiences. Many were substantiated with personal cost of living figures and favorite locale benefits. Other comments were political diatribes about expats being unpatriotic in fleeing their home countries.

Mindless mass minions are always threatened by the adventurous few.

Some random thoughts about retiring abroad because you have limited retirement income. You are probably not going to be happy if low cost of living is your main motivation. You likely will quickly feel trapped and have many complaints. However, your lot staying in your home country won't be any better. The scrimping will be more severe. The buying choices more difficult. The choice is a rock or a hard place. Economically, you will be better off in a locale where your annual income will be classified as upper middle class for that country. You will have more quality of life options. Not likely in the U.S.

Economics is, however, only one component in one's happiness index. If you haven't traveled outside your home country regularly and enjoyed doing so, try it before you move. If your vacations are typically cruises or fantasy all inclusive resorts, forget it. A hygiene fixation? No way. Do you seek out hole-in-the-wall ethnic eateries at home or stick to national chain restaurants?

This isn't a difficult decision. For the majority it will be a "No". For a handful, a "Yes". Your gut will likely know which approach fits you.

There is always the option of being a winter time snow bird while you wait patiently for your younger wife to stop working.

Shakira

2011-07-18T03:00:00.000-05:00

Shakira on stage.
Old Railroad Yard is hopping.
Music pounds the air.

People everywhere.
Proud Meridanos beaming.
A steamy, hot night.

Bright lights. Fog machines.
Sexy Latin seductress
Traps our watching eyes.

We scream our desire.
She teases us with her voice.
We think we are in love.

Big screens surround us.
Like Sufi dancers we whirl.
Lost in private worlds.

A really big bash.
City bucks for the people.
Great freebie concert.

Tonight we are one.
Chattering on our walks home.
Viva Merida!

Avocado milkshake

2011-07-14T03:40:00.000-05:00

For the past week, the Midwest and much of the U.S. has been experiencing extremely high temperatures and heat indices. I have been tracking concurrently Merida's temperatures. Kansas has been at least 10 degrees hotter during the daytime and 20 degrees hotter at night.

I have felt right at home planning my days around the heat.I have also been enjoying exotic beverages. One of my long time favorites is an avocado milkshake.

These are incredibly simple and delicious.I carry the recipe in my head. It may have changed a little through the years and is regularly modified by the seeker of perfection in me.

1 cup milk (whatever your style is, whole, 2%, skim)
1 avocado
2 tablespoons sugar
   1 teaspoon vanilla extract
   1 cup ice

   Mix everything in a blender until smooth.
   If you want it thicker, add more ice.
   If you really like vanilla, add more.

   This drink is incredibly satisfying and simple. Try it.

   In the past 3 years I have posted 500 times. This is my first recipe.

   Still no pet photos, That must surely be a record for a Merida blogger.

Spinning Wheels

2011-07-11T03:45:00.000-05:00

The best way to have a good idea is to have lots of ideas.
Linus Pauling

There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have learned to seek my happiness by limiting my desires, rather than in attempting to satisfy them.
John Stuart Mill

Happiness is not a station to arrive at, but a manner of travelling.
Margaret Lee Runbeck

Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?
Sai Baba

Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
Socrates

One cannot help being old, but one can resist being aged.
Lord Samuel

Mid afternoon is just for being

2011-07-07T03:16:00.000-05:00

One of my mentors, Naturalist Jim , recently celebrated his tenth anniversary of blogging. Congratulations, Jim.

In his most recent post, he opined, "Mid afternoon is when unnecessary matters go away and things that are left become most vividly themselves".

Jim is precisely correct. Mid-afternoon in the tropics is a special time for we thinkers and reflectors. Most afternoons we are hidden indoors enjoying our ceiling fans and hammocks. We are teetering back and forth between sleep and wakefulness. Sort of like that moment of anesthesia just before some surgical procedure.

Our thought processes shift to extreme slow motion. Nobody and nothing is fully awake, or really sleeping. You just sort are. It's a nice place to be and it is a regular occurrence in the tropical heat.

"Mid afternoon is just for being".

Brilliant, Jim.

Getting on

2011-07-04T03:28:00.000-05:00

Everything changes.

Everything we love and cherish is going to age, decline, and eventually disappear, including our own precious selves.

It's all going to go, all of it -- everything that matters to us. In fact that process has been happening all of our lives.

The boy I once was no longer exists. He is long gone. Kaput.

The same with the twenty-five and forty year old "me's". Vanished.Tiny parts of former "me's" hang on in my mind and the minds of a few acquaintances.

What I once knew, no longer matters to me. It, too, has expired. I have new things that worry me now.

If I were to somehow be "resurrected" upon my death, which one of the many "me's" that I have surrendered would be put back into the game? Surely not the slowing, forgetting, creaking one I am becoming. His number needs to be permanently retired.

How is it that we haven't been paying attention? It's never not been happening.

Are you listening?

Stop covering your ears and making "la-la-la" sounds.

Resistance is futile.

I am enjoying my years and I am moving up in the queue. Strike up the band!

Fish and Chips

2011-06-30T03:25:00.000-05:00

Every now and then I enjoy some simple fish and chips.

Gianni's Fish and Chips recently opened and was reviewed by Professor Charles Gimbote on his dining blog Eat Merida. For forty pesos you get crispy golden french fries, real beer-battered fish and a refresco. The professor thinks the fries are some of the best he's had in the city. He thought the fish was decent and quite reasonably priced at forty pesos.

You can read his review with directions to the lunch spot on the link above. I am anxious to give Gianni's a try.

The Professor has reviewed many other lessor known dining joints in Merida. You might want to subscribe to his listings to not miss out on his many finds.

Other fish and chip offerings I have found acceptable in Merida are at Las Vigas (above the Los Arcos Hotel) and Hennessy's (on Montejo). My recollection is that the cost at Las Vigas was 49 pesos and around 150 pesos at Hennessey's. Las Vigas is a much better value. I spent a lifetime eating at Hennessy type places with other self-important people. I simply no longer enjoy such gamesmanship.

Many paths, same destination

2011-06-27T03:43:00.000-05:00

Beryl Gorbman recently posted Why is everyone in a bad mood? Sort of along the lines of my recent SASS post. Both of us have noticed the recent increase in grouchiness on the part of many expats in Merida and offered up some thoughts regarding possible causes ranging from higher temperatures to aging to a sense of feeling trapped by declining real estate prices and rising living costs.

I am currently reading a book by Winifred Gallagher entitled Rapt. It was recommended by a friend in France and is most interesting. Essentially the book espouses that whatever we give our attention to and focus upon in our lives will determine the nature of our realities. Thus our focus determines what we see and what we miss out on in life. A common experience is seen differently and responded to differently by its many viewers depending upon their foci. Sort of a la "the only enlightenment you will find on top of the mountain is the enlightenment you take there with you."

The following poem might help:

Let It Enfold You

either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you

when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a precarious
upbringing.

I was hard as granite, I
leered at the
sun.
I trusted no man and
especially no
woman.

I was living a hell in
small rooms, I broke
things, smashed things,
walked through glass,
cursed.
I challenged everything,
was continually being
evicted, jailed,in and
out of fights, in and out
of my mind.
women were something
to screw and rail
at, I had no male
friends,

I changed jobs and
cities, I hated holidays,
babies, history,
newspapers, museums,
grandmothers,
marriage, movies,
spiders, garbagemen,
english accents,spain,
france,italy,walnuts and
the color
orange.
algebra angered me,
opera sickened me,
charlie chaplin was a
fake
and flowers were for
pansies.

peace and happiness to me
were signs of
inferiority,
tenants of the weak
an
addled
mind.

but as I went on with
my alley fights,
my suicidal years,
my passage through
any number of
women-it gradually
began to occur to
me
that I wasn't different

from the
others, I was the same,

they were all fulsome
with hatred,
glossed over with petty
grievances,
the men I fought in
alleys had hearts of stone.
everybody was nudging,
inching, cheating for
some insignificant
advantage,
the lie was the
weapon and the
plot was
empty,
darkness was the
dictator.

cautiously, I allowed
myself to feel good
at times.
I found moments of
peace in cheap
rooms
just staring at the
knobs of some
dresser
or listening to the
rain in the
dark.
the less I needed
the better I
felt.

maybe the other life had worn me
down.
I no longer found
glamour
in topping somebody
in conversation.
or in mounting the
body of some poor
drunken female
whose life had
slipped away into
sorrow.

I could never accept
life as it was,
i could never gobble
down all its
poisons
but there were parts,
tenuous magic parts
open for the
asking.

I re formulated
I don't know when,
date, time, all
that
but the change
occured.
something in me
relaxed, smoothed
out.
i no longer had to
prove that I was a
man,

I didn't have to prove
anything.

I began to see things:
coffee cups lined up
behind a counter in a
cafe.
or a dog walking along
a sidewalk.
or the way the mouse
on my dresser top
stopped there
with its body,
its ears,
its nose,
it was fixed,
a bit of life
caught within itself
and its eyes looked
at me
and they were
beautiful.
then- it was
gone.

I began to feel good,
I began to feel good
in the worst situations
and there were plenty
of those.
like say, the boss
behind his desk,
he is going to have
to fire me.

I've missed too many
days.
he is dressed in a
suit, necktie, glasses,
he says, 'I am going
to have to let you go'

'it's all right' I tell
him.

He must do what he
must do, he has a
wife, a house, children.
expenses, most probably
a girlfriend.

I am sorry for him
he is caught.

I walk onto the blazing
sunshine.
the whole day is
mine
temporarily,
anyhow.

(the whole world is at the
throat of the world,
everybody feels angry,
short-changed, cheated,
everybody is despondent,
dissillusioned)

I welcomed shots of
peace, tattered shards of
happiness.

I embraced that stuff
like the hottest number,
like high heels, breasts,
singing,the
works.

(dont get me wrong,
there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism
that overlooks all
basic problems just for
the sake of
itself-
this is a shield and a
sickness.)

The knife got near my
throat again,
I almost turned on the
gas
again
but when the good
moments arrived
again
I didn't fight them off
like an alley
adversary.
I let them take me,
i luxuriated in them,
I bade them welcome
home.
I even looked into
the mirror
once having thought
myself to be
ugly,
I now liked what
I saw,almost
handsome, yes,
a bit ripped and
ragged,
scars, lumps,
odd turns,
but all in all,
not too bad,
almost handsome,
better at least than
some of those movie
star faces
like the cheeks of
a baby's
butt.

and finally I discovered
real feelings of
others,
unheralded,
like lately,
like this morning,
as I was leaving,
for the track,
i saw my wife in bed,
just the
shape of
her head there
(not forgetting
centuries of the living
and the dead and
the dying,
the pyramids,
Mozart dead
but his music still
there in the
room, weeds growing,
the earth turning,
the toteboard waiting for
me)
I saw the shape of my
wife's head,
she so still,
I ached for her life,
just being there
under the
covers.

I kissed her on the
forehead,
got down the stairway,
got outside,
got into my marvelous
car,
fixed the seatbelt,
backed out the
drive.
feeling warm to
the fingertips,
down to my
foot on the gas
pedal,
I entered the world
once
more,
drove down the
hill
past the houses
full and empty
of
people,
I saw the mailman,
honked,
he waved
back
at me.

Charles Bukowski

Bukowski's and my life couldn't be more unalike. And yet we both were seeking the same place. And we seemed to both discover the less we needed, the better we felt.

If you don't need anything, you can not feel trapped. You will stop using and twisting those around you.

Attachment is the root of all suffering.

If you are attached to a certain wished for life, you can never be happy because there will never be enough. Never. Only when you need nothing will you ever have enough.

The heat cannot affect you. The delusions of others will have no hold over you. Changing values for your house and your money will amuse you. Adventurous medical care becomes just that.

Simplify. A simpler life will lead you to simpler joys.

At some point you will have nothing except peace and happiness.

In the moonlight

2011-06-23T03:09:00.000-05:00

Suspended low in the tropical sky, the full moon pulls a wispy veil over her pockmarked face. Is she shy? Is she trying not to be seen? Or is she modest, preferring not to see what is going on below her?

Happy sounds rise above the walled garden behind the house on Calle 61. La Dulce and I are enjoying an evening dip in Mermaid Pool. The cool water soothes our bare skin. La Dulce is floating on a Noodle and I sit on one of the steps. The circulating water in the moonlight suggests a hidden, bubbling spring. Our happy sounds are sounds of contentment.

A neighbor's cat tightrope walks the top of the wall to see what the commotion is all about. A bat skims the water's surface.

Sweet orange blossom scents seduce us.

Solar lamps glow like candles.

A faraway piano serenades the neighborhood.

I love moments like these. They don't happen very often in the U.S. where I seem to spend much of my time watching TV and shut up in air conditioned shells.

Flirting with the Universe in the tropics. Watched by a cat and a modest moon.

Saludos todo el mundo.

Slow Foods market

2011-06-20T07:45:00.000-05:00

This past week I discovered a new blog via my Facebook account. The Dining Diva featured an excellent post on Merida's Slow Food Market. You know I am a big fan of the market, and Dining Diva gives a good portrayal of that weekly event including lots of quality pictures. She made me very homesick for my friends and their products. I have excerpted part of her post here:

"Slow Food Mexico has been around for a while in the central part of the country, but I was truly surprised to discover Slow Food represented in Merída by Slow Food Yucatán and that they sponsor a weekly market every Saturday

So with 3 friends in tow, and armed only with an address and a taxi driver who assured us he knew where we were going, we set off in search of the Mercado Fresco de Slow Food Yucatán.

The market isn't big but it does have a good breadth of products and interesting items, like the fresh eggs - chicken or quail - local honey, locally grown cashews and even earth that comes complete with earthworms. Then there were these guys and their lettuces.

Making use of old water bottles the lettuce starts are grown on the roof of their home. I'd eat that, wouldn't you? Recycle old water bottle and feed the community, love the idea, the concept and the execution.

Good Asian food is not always the easiest thing to find in Mexico, but if you've got a hankering for kim chee or some other Korean specialties, you'll find it at this table (see below)...

Okay, Korean not your thing? How about freshly grown herbs, greens or some handmade cheese

Merída has a large and fairly active ex-pat community. The English Library recently sponsored a chili cook off and the winning chili is available at the Slow Food market. Also on display was the medal the winner received. Look closely, it certainly appears that the English Library could use a refresher course in English.

Slow Food Yucatan was launched by David Sterling, owner of Los Dos Cooking School . The market is held at a bakery that is owned an operated by SFY board member Monique Duval who is, without doubt, a force of nature...baker, fee spirit, visionary and probably a lot more. She is a whirlwind of activity and so is the bakery

While I didn't get great photos inside the bakery, and her selection had been whittled down by the time we got there it was clear to see it's a delicious labor of love and dedication

Calzones, wraps, pizzas, pastries and lovely loaves of bread made with whole grain and natural ingredients were flying out the door and customers were lined up 2 and 3 deep waiting their turn. Also offered are grains that have been freshly ground to flour.

Some fresh juice, great grains, granola and something called Huevos Brie (Brie Eggs..don't ask, I don't know and I forgot to ask) wait to go home with some lucky cook.

The Slow Food Yucatán mercado brilliantly confirms that size doesn't matter. From the guys selling lettuce in recycled water bottles to the guy at the other end of the market selling coconut pies made from coconuts grown in his backyard, everything came from within a 30 mile radius of Merída. Wide ranging products, creative ones and a sense of place and community, the mercado had it all. We bought some coffee and we bought some chocolate, and then it was time to say adios and head back to the hotel."

Thanks for a fresh look at this special market in Merida. Many of my readers will enjoy checking out this blog. You can access it below.

http://thediningdiva.typepad.com/the_dining_diva/

Mind Blocks

2011-06-16T03:07:00.000-05:00

Quieting one's mind is a major method of most meditative practices. Ordering the mind by focusing upon a repetitive mantra or trying to pay attention to the breath are common tools used to assist in that pursuit.

It's not easy. The moment you begin, Racing Mind bombards you with rapid fire thoughts. "Where will I eat today?" "I need to go to the bank?" "Gee, it's starting to feel hot." "Gosh, my back hurts." "What's the Spanish word for 'confusing'?" "Oh, I need to focus on my breathing." "I wonder if the pool boy will be on time today?" "Why did I ever agree to go to the gallery opening tomorrow?" Ad infinitum. All in the matter of seconds.

Remarkably, with effort and continued practice, some moments are more successful than others. The mind begins to slow.

Today I am staring at a blank screen on my laptop, trying to come up with an idea for a blog post. Not one decent idea on the horizon. Not a single bell ringing for attention in my empty sky.

Where are those thoughts when you need them?Maybe I have discovered a hidden doorway to mindless being. A shortcut to Nirvana for bloggers.

Perhaps I should develop an app for cell phone users. Mindlessness Now!

And the beat goes on

2011-06-13T03:14:00.000-05:00

With my absence from Merida, I am missing out on many treats. Perhaps none as special as the beginning of the rainy season. I have been in Merida during the summer and experienced the regular, late afternoon rains followed by the rapid fall in temperature. Such a treat. But I have not experienced the treat of the first rain after a long season of heat and dryness. It must indeed be a special event.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Cafe la Boheme has recently opened on Paseo Montejo between Calles 37 and 39. One of their specialties appears to be fresh baked pies. As a Midwestern farm lad, I am always interested in the occasional treat of a good pie. In the past my needs have been satisfied by RaeAnn at Rescoldos and Yury at the Saturday Slow Foods Market. I am anxious to try these new offerings upon my return home next Fall.

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On July 16, the city of Merida will sponsor a free concert by Shakira along the lines of their Spring concert by The Colombian star, Juanes. This one carries a price tag of nearly 2 million dollars, of which the city will fund 25% with the balance being given by various donors. This should be a great event enjoyed by many.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

After lengthy debate, the mayor of Mérida, Angélica Araujo Lara, has made a commitment to construct an underpass at the intersection of Prolongación Montejo and Circuito Colonias. Time will tell whether this adds to the adventure of that particular glorieta or lessens it.

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Dwarf bullfighters from Los Enanitos Toreros participated in the bullring in Cancun May 29, 2011. The Enanitos Toreros are a group of six comedians from Yucatan who travel across Mexico entertaining audiences and carrying on a tradition born in Spain along with regular bullfighting. "Little people," as some prefer to be called, have been entertainers for centuries. Unlike traditional bullfights, the animals are not harmed, and calves are used instead of full-size bulls.

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And the beat goes on.

The curtain rises on another day

2011-06-09T03:13:00.000-05:00

This morning I got up at 6:00 a.m. and took my daily walk around the lake. Days are starting to be Merida like. Any outdoor activity needs to be early in the morning before heat and humidity begin their invasion.

I take a quick shower and slip into one of my best disguises for the day. Some of my masks are beginning to get a little frayed around the edges, but they still feel comfortable.

The masks continue to recognize my aging face in the mirror. Like me, they have difficulty accepting that at any minute this all will end.

Mindlessly I move through my days. I go to bed at night, fall asleep and wake up in the morning one day older. Mothership Earth keeps on turning.

Years have marched by. Now I am 64 years old. I still try to pay attention. I still look for answers. But the Mystery is still the Mystery.

We can laugh or we can cry.

Today I choose my smiling face.

Senior Attitude Syndrome Symptoms (SASS)

2011-06-06T03:04:00.000-05:00

When I was still working, every day I would read everyone's blog about living in Merida. You could have mistaken me for a religious zealot, such was my fervor. With retirement and my spending longer periods of time in Merida, my vicarious living obsession has largely stopped. Except, of course, when I am back in Kansas and need a Merida fix.

So recently I have been catching up on some of my expat friends' trials and tribulations. In my reading, I believe I have detected more of an attitude, an edginess, an unhappiness in some of their blog posts. I didn't like what I was reading. Some of my friends were turning ugly.

In our socializing this past winter, I made similar observations. I commented to La Dulce about the increasing litany of complaints I was hearing. She didn't seem to share my concern and suggested it was no big deal.

The two of us frequently hear or see or remember things differently. Increasingly so, it seems. I more quickly disagree than previously. Inwardly I wonder, "Did I really say that? Why don't I remember it?"

In my introspection, I am tending toward a connection for all these threads. It's not that the longer you live outside the United States, the uglier you become. It's that the longer you live, the uglier you become. At least until you come to grips with this business of being old.

It is tough to confront being old. To no longer have an unlimited future for unlimited unfulfilled dreams. To accept that goals you once had, you are never going to realize. To not know how much time you have remaining, but to confront that the time you do have is quickly slipping away. No one should be surprised about angry or complaining tones from people in such situations.

Recently one of my faithful readers, Suk, and I engaged in an exchange in the comment section of a post. I am paraphrasing Suk's input in the next couple of paragraphs.

"Life is a real precious thing. I deal with dying patients everyday. That act teaches me and reminds me, 'Do not be angry or worry about the little things'. I will give my love and I will share my happy experiences. I will try to be positive and share positive energy with the people around me. I am noticing lately that it is difficult to please my husband. He seems to worry so much. I notice my mom is going through the same difficulty."

"Paul, I understand you very well. Because I am watching and learning from my husband everyday. He feels like his time is not enough to accomplish more dreams and things he wants to do. His brain cells aren't slowing down to cooperate with his physical energy. That is reality. It is hard to accept it. My mom is going through the same thing. I feel kind of sad but I do really understand them and I am flowing right behind them both. We need to accept it and stay happy. Life is real short. So enjoy and share the love".

Thanks, Suk. You do understand me very well.

Your husband, Walter, and I are lucky guys. We are both married to younger, loving women to help us with our aging struggles. It will take us a little while to adapt to this change but we will.

I have gotten pretty good at releasing little attachments in my life. I've got a few difficult, large ones to deal with before my final letting go. Meanwhile I am going to enjoy and share the love.

Haikus, Vol. 21

2011-06-02T07:28:00.000-05:00

Sitting quietly.
Patio Escondido.
Heat waves batter me.

House wall for seat back.
Sun bleached tiles cushion my rear.
Shade inching eastward.

Like an old sweatshirt
Comfort engulfs fidgeting.
Slows wandering mind.

School kids play next door
Voices like ashes fall down
Neath a clear blue sky.

Snow globe in disguise.
Got the whole world in my hands.
I feel like Buddha.

Day sky turns to night.
Body is fused to the wall.
Fast forward to now.

Amnesia victim.
Stuck in the present no more.
Ego roaring back.

Enough and to spare

2011-05-30T18:41:00.000-05:00

Like Confucious of old, I am so absorbed in the wonder of

the earth and the life upon it
that I cannot think of heaven and the angels.

I have enough for this life.

- Pearl Buck, 1892-1973

Still a bargain?

2011-05-26T04:40:00.000-05:00

I know some of you are curious what's been happening to the cost of living in Merida. Is life in the land of the parrots still a bargain?

Certainly the dollar has been weakening and no longer buys as many pesos as a year ago. Social Security benefits have been frozen for the past two years. I was curious how much of a pinch I would feel this last winter during my 5 months in Merida. The quick answer is "None." Maybe I have gotten smarter about life south of the Border. Maybe I have made minor adjustments to my life style. I'm not sure exactly how this happened but I spent less this year than last year.

I still ate out once a day minimum and dined in an upscale restaurant weekly. Still had a weekly maid and a pool cleaning guy. Did some overnight traveling and adventuring. Ran the AC whenever I wanted it. I installed cable TV and internet in the house this year. Bought some luxury items like art and furniture pieces. Spent a lot of money every week at the Slow Foods Market. Other splurges.

My son, Isaac, visited for two months. During that time I spent more like a tourist.

La Dulce was here for a couple of the five months with her high maintenance standards. Wine and entertaining.

In the end, I averaged under $1000 monthly in expenditures. That was well within our original budgeted target of $2000.

We own our house so have no rental expenses. Our RE taxes were $9 this year. Our highest electric bill was $40 for a two month period. We do not have a car. We walk and take public transportation. I did have a dental emergency that was $185.

My experience continues to suggest that many couples could live very comfortably on $2000/month including a cushion of $600. On my own, I could live happily on a $600/month amount.

I still don't understand how this is possible given the obscene amounts we used to spend in the U.S.

Must be the power of my Senior Discount Card (INAPAM).

And flip-flops are cheap.

We got a reprieve

2011-05-23T03:17:00.000-05:00

An 89 year old "prophet" recently gained 15 minutes of fame with his assertion that the world would end at 6:00 p.m., May 21, 2011. Massive earthquakes would kill millions of people. Jesus would return and his believers would be transported via the rapture to safety in heaven.

Billboard warnings were posted across the United States. Many appeared in Kansas City with one appearing near our little lake cottage on a lonely Kansas highway.

The warned time has passed. The super earthquake skipped us. No one has reported any missing believers. (Although I suppose it's possible the rapture call was sounded and no one met the requirements.)

Many of us would like some kind of edge for our lives. Some inside secrets. We want to feel special and select. It is easy to prey on that desire. Religious fanatics find fertile ground in our minds. So do politicians and extreme radio shows. Modern day advertisers. Snake oil comes in many disguises.

I have been duped in the past. Less so now. Faith healers and tongue speakers no longer mesmerize. There are lots of people with easy answers but easy answers no longer work for me at this stage in my life.

It is up to me. No more hiding behind the ideas of others.

The frontiers of my world are not far away. They don't run along the far horizon. They entice fairly close by, on the edges of my surroundings. I catch glimpses of another reality everywhere. Park benches have become my pew. Laughing voices my choirs. Fellow "believers" show up in my life regularly.

We are all of us living by a shore and along the fringe of a jungle. Towering temples beckon. Hidden paths entice.

On tropical soil I am forgetting my ambitions. The past no longer has a hold on me. I don't fear the future. The present is more than enough.

Sunbeams from my hammock

2011-05-19T03:33:00.000-05:00

I am happy and content because I think I am.
- Alain Rene Lesage, 1668-1747

If people and their manner of living were alike everywhere,
there would not be much point
in moving from one place to another.
- Paul Bowles, 1910-1999

The nature of God is a circle
of which the centre is everywhere
and the circumference is nowhere.
– Anonymous

One travels so as to learn once more
how to marvel at life in the way a child does.
-Ella Maillart, 1903 – 1997

Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary
to which you can retreat at any time
and be yourself.
- Hermann Hesse, 1877-1962

Friends

2011-05-16T03:46:00.000-05:00

"Friends are like melons. Shall I tell you why? To find a good one, you must a hundred try". Claude Mermet

I might have been a little too quick in my previous post's assertion that I was starting to feel at home in Kansas. The past several days have returned to being dreary and windy and cold. The highs have been in the upper 40's and low 50's, but it has seemed colder than that. Evenings have fallen into the 30's. I'm not enjoying wearing shoes and socks and jeans and jackets. Nor sleeping under comforters with the furnace running much of the night. I miss natural tropical heat.

Being stuck indoors most of the time has given me lots of time to think. I love Merida. I miss its warm weather and eating outdoors. I miss the happy people and the lower cost of living. I miss the nearby ocean and the food, the Slow Foods market and sitting in the plaza. But I have determined that what I miss most are my friends.

In Merida I have lots of friends, both expats and locals. I have routines whereby I regularly see them. We have coffee or go to lunch. Take road trips. Play cards. Attend church. Eat Sabrina's tacos; run into each other at Noche Mexicana or the library. I love seeing them and doing things with them. I truly care about them and I miss them.

Back in the States life is not the same. Everyone is so busy. There are work schedule conflicts and soccer mom demands. It takes such effort to arrange time together. I seem to have little in common with many of my neighbors.

My parents and grandparents were Winter Texans. I remember reflecting to myself then how much fuller and happier their lives were in Texas than back in Missouri. The weather enabled them to be outside much of the time. Their friends were all retired and "available" for fun. And they were free of the weight of accumulated responsibilities from a previous lifetime.

Just like me now in Merida. Maybe it's not so much Merida that I love. Maybe it's retirement I love. Being the boss of my days and being around other similarly free persons. I happen to believe Merida is a great place to be retired. My friends are cut from a particular cloth. They are adventurers and thinkers. We are comfortable with each other and I miss them. (You know who you are.)

Mermet was wrong. You don't have to try a hundred melons or a hundred friends to find a good one. In Merida, I have found great ones in abundance.

Almost home

2011-05-12T03:17:00.000-05:00

A little over a month ago, when I was commiserating about my plight of being back in the U.S., one of my readers posted these words of comfort in her comments, "Air travel is so fast; the body can fly half way around the world and yet it takes the sentiments longer to catch up... In a while you'll feel better and more at home in Kansas City."

Thanks, Joanne, you were of course right but at that moment I didn't want to acknowledge so. I had some more self-pity wallowing I wanted to do.

This past weekend, La Dulce and I decided to try a little neighborhood deli which the Kansas City Star recently reviewed as having exceptionally good Reuben sandwiches.

It was a beautiful Spring day. I was finally getting warm. Temperatures were to be in the low 90's. Polski Days were going on in the Strawberry Hill neighborhood. Cinco de Mayo celebrations hadn't yet totally ended.

The deli had an outdoor dining area. Eating outside always lifts my spirits. A Budweiser Select girl was handing out Kentucky Derby necklaces. She seemed like she could be a Sol girl.

A Derby watching party was underway and ladies were gathering in their Derby hats. Lots of excitement and noisy happiness.

And the food was good.

It was a little bit like a Sunday in Merida.

I think I will be OK here. I've been letting go of my Merida attachment a little. My suffering is waning.

Life is starting to be good again.

Buddha-full thoughts

2011-05-08T03:09:00.000-05:00

A devata said: "One who has sons delights in sons, One with cattle delights in cattle. Acquisitions truly are a man's delight; Without acquisitions one does not delight." The Buddha answered: "One who has sons sorrows over sons. One with cattle sorrows over cattle. Acquisitions truly are a man's sorrows; Without acquisitions one does not sorrow."

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.

- Carl Bard

If you students of the Way wish to become Buddhas, you need study no doctrines whatever, but learn only how to avoid seeking for and attaching yourselves to anything.

- Huang Po, Zen Teaching of Huang Po

In the same way that someone in the midst of a rough crowd guards a wound with great care, so in the midst of bad company should one always guard the wound that is the mind.

- Santideva, "Bodhicaryavatara"

One day as I was meditating, I saw a rusty gutter, and I suddenly felt sad and sorry that it was going bad and rusty. I experienced that life was impermanent. I learned Dharma from that gutter.

- Mae Chi Boonliang, "Women's Buddhism, Buddhism's Women"

All the wealth you've acquired from beginningless time until now has failed to fulfill all your desires. Cultivate therefore this wish-granting gem of moderation, O fortunate ones.

- Milarepa, "Drinking the Mountain Stream

You can't ever get everything you want. It is impossible. Luckily, there is another option: You can learn to control your mind, to step outside of this endless cycle of desire and aversion. You can learn not to want what you want, to recognize desires but not be controlled by them.

- Bhanta Henepola Gunaratana, "Mindfulness in Plain English"

Mayonnaise - A Bit of History

2011-05-05T03:04:00.000-05:00

Recently I ran across some obscure Mexican trivia.

Back in 1912, Hellmann's mayonnaise was manufactured in England. In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars of the condiment scheduled for delivery to Veracruz, Mexico, which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York.

This would have been the largest, single shipment of mayonnaise ever delivered to Mexico. But as we know, the great ship did not make it to New York . The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost.

The people of Mexico, who were crazy about mayonnaise, and were eagerly awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss. Their anguish was so great that they began an annual commiseration of their misfortune which they observe to this day.

This National Day of Mourning occurs annually on May 5th and is known as:
Sinko De Mayo.

Miscellany

2011-05-04T03:37:00.000-05:00

I like passing beneath one of Merida's gates when I am out walking.

Mexico is where very important officials follow their stomachs around barking orders.

I'm skilled at allowing silence to roam. I'm not much of a talker.

This used to be a true story. Now I'm not so sure.

I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the Stern Fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

A shift in consciousness

2011-05-02T03:27:00.000-05:00

I have been thinking about my recent months in Merida. I spent lots of time in hammocks and on park benches, simply observing and thinking. My contemplation of life and human nature in that special world taught me that one who cannot change the very fabric of his thinking will never be able to change his reality. And will never, in turn, experience anything different in his life. What a boring existence.

Only I get to create my own reality.

In Merida, on its many park benches and in my many hammocks, I have been discovering my real self.

Perhaps it has something to do with 2012 and the global shift in consciousness. Maybe the Universe is nudging me to simply do my part.

42.1 degrees Centigrade

2011-04-29T03:57:00.000-05:00

According to Merida's Meteorological Service, Merida reached it's highest temperature for 2011 this past Wednesday at 3:00 p.m. It was 42.1 degrees Celsius which is 107.8 degrees Fahrenheit.

About Mid-March, high temperatures burst onto our scene. Nearly everyday since has been in the high 90's or the low 100's. In my mind I concluded it would be a good idea to maintain a second home in a cooler locale if one could afford to do so. About a week later, I reneged on that view as my body began to adjust.

One evening as I was leaving the house on Calle 61, a delightful breeze greeted me. It was such a treat and I just stood awhile and enjoyed it. The thought came to me that without a week of preceding heat I could never have experienced such pure pleasure. And it seemed worth it to me.
Maybe it was a little like those who enjoy the cold so they can have the pleasure of sleeping under a comforter.

Simplicity is gradually converting me. Recently Naturalist Jim waxed eloquently on the subject of heat.

"I think every day this week the early-afternoon
temperature in the shade at the hut's door rose to
over 100° (38°C). The humidity wasn't too high,
though, so if you kept in the shade and didn't move
around much it wasn't bad. In fact, since I jog well
before dawn and spend an hour or two each morning
shoveling out a hole for a septic pit, by the time
it's that hot I'm ready for a brief snooze, and when I
lie down it's actually very pleasant.

A breeze passes through the hut, blowing right between
the wall poles, and the wind's sound soughing through
the surrounding trees and rustling the roof's thatch
is very soothing. Birds are relatively subdued, but
still a few manage to call, especially doves with
their moody, monotonal ooooooohs. When it's that hot
you sweat all the time, but evaporation cools you off,
and somehow it feels good when the body reaches its
sweat/evaporation equilibrium. Just lie there in the
dim hut feeling the soft breeze, listening to the
peaceful sounds, letting the mind drift...

But, of course, it's not that simple. I'm a gringo who
came of age in conservative rural Kentucky where
people were expected to work, not take Mexican
siestas. During my early afternoon siestas I always
feel a little guilty. Childhood programming is hard to
undo, and if a genetic component against afternoon
siestas comes with my blue eyes, that's hard to
overcome, too.

One way I deal with the guilt is to ask myself just
who decided for everyone that people are supposed to
work eight-hour days, from nine to five, or
thereabouts. Who decided that departing from 'normal
workaday schedules' was lazy, antisocial, and maybe
even sinful?

Also, I keep in mind that my Northern culture not only
sniffs at afternoon siestas, but also builds suburbs
without sidewalks, and when houses go up, first the
developer cuts all the shade trees, then ignores
building orientation with regard to natural cooling in
the summer, and solar heating in the winter. Nowadays
up North even windows are sealed and can't be opened
if a pleasant spring breeze is blowing.

Thinking like this, I nod off, in defiance, if nothing
else. Then in a few minutes I awaken amazingly
refreshed for such a brief rest. Maybe a dried leaf
scraping in the wind against the hut's outside wall
will have awakened me, or the soft chuckle of a robin
calling from deep shade, or the little-feet-on-loose-
dry-bark sound of a fly-chasing gecko scampering
across the hut's pole walls.

And somehow I think it's a good trade. On the one hand
I have to put up with the heat. But, on the other, I'm
where no one blames you if you lie low during the
day's hottest hours, and where a nice cooling breeze
filters from shade trees all around, and passes right
through your little hut's walls."

Well said, Jim.

Others have addressed this subject. You can read Joanna's and Marc's
and Beryl's comments for additional input.

I agree with Naturalist Jim. I like my afternoon naps bathed in surrounding heat. Sure I may have cooled off with a dip in Mermaid Pool. I probably have reduced unnecessary clothing, turned on a ceiling fan and climbed into my soft hammock. I love fading off into the heat. It's a lot like entering the restful bliss in an anesthesia prep room.

When it's too hot to do anything, then I don't do anything. It's pretty simple. My past U.S. life was one of ignoring my surroundings and fighting it via convoluted heating and cooling systems. Driving to work in blizzards and wearing suits on summer days. What nonsense.

In Merida, I am aware of my surroundings. I work with them. I don't fight them. We coexist. Mother Nature and I. We are part of the One.

Haiku #20

2011-04-27T03:59:00.000-05:00

The new month's first rain
how lucky to be inside
on 61st street.

Yesterday was hot.
I fell asleep many times
In tropical bliss.

Mermaid pool plunging
Hammock in my birthday suit
Fan's cooling magic.

Lovely nighttime breeze
Thrills like a surprise ice cream
Smiles drip down my chin.

Still some kid in me
I remember my first dog
Barks serenading.

Full moon overhead
Tiles yielding their warmth
Sandman conquers me.

Ideas from a park bench

2011-04-25T03:05:00.000-05:00

I study the people who walk by.

A few of them hurry, walking with deliberate steps, looking around hastily as they pass me on my park bench. Speeding by like projectiles with shoulders pulled up and their gazes directed far into the distance, as if they are target-seeking missiles, programmed for a single purpose.

Most saunter, converse with their companions, slow down, utter exclamations and laugh, perhaps put a hand on someone's arm only to continue aimlessly on their way. They pause, cheerfully allow others to pass, as if they have all the time in the world.

Then there are the tourists. They have eyes that perceive without seeing and mouths that talk constantly but with words that do not touch the reality that the locals know.

The Maya are good at waiting. They have been waiting for five hundred years. They know how to take whatever comes. They understand how to live in the moment. It's entered their genetic coding. They want for nothing.

Neither do I.

Cielito Lindo

2011-04-22T03:24:00.000-05:00

Anyone who is homesick for Mexico will enjoy this video. Near the end you will see the saw man from Merida. He seems to get around.

The Abuelita

2011-04-20T03:36:00.000-05:00

Her brown skin glistens as the sun
pours through the kitchen window
like gold leche. After grinding
the nixtamal, a word so beautifully ethnic
it must be italicized to let you, the reader, know you’ve encountered
something beautifully ethnic, she kneads
with the hands of centuries-old ancestor
spirits who magically yet realistically possess her
until the masa is smooth as a lowrider’s
chrome bumper. And I know she must do this
with care because it says so on a website
that explains how to make homemade corn tortillas.
So much labor for this peasant bread,
this edible art birthed from Abuelitas’s
brown skin, which is still glistening
in the sun.

by Paul Martinez Pompa

My thanks to Eric for introducing me to this poem.

As a generalization, Merida is notorious for mediocre tortillas There are exceptions. The hand made tortillas at Chaya Maya are good. The ones at Kinich in Izamal are exceptional. The picture above is of the tortilla making hut off their restaurant.

I like Pompa's handling of his abuelita and her tortillas. It reminds me of zen writers who taste the sun and rain and laborer's sweat in foods they eat. I am trying to be more conscious of edible offerings birthed from ancestors and brown skin glistening in the sun. En la'kech.

Hacienda Cuch Balam

2011-04-18T03:38:00.000-05:00

The last Saturday I was in Merida, I went to the Slow Foods Market to tell friends goodbye and to thank them for supplying me with such excellent food during my months in Merida. It was a hugging, emotional time for me.

I also met two young women from England, Jette and Kelly. Jette runs Hacienda Cuch Balam and Kelly is her organic gardener from WOOF. These two ladies were a delight to talk to. I bought a lemon cucumber and a couple of freshly baked scones. The scones were exceptionally good and the lemon cucumber enabled me to stretch some leftover Greek salad into another meal.

Cuch Balam is a completely green project that is ten minutes from Cuzama. I hope to spend a night visiting their hacienda next fall.

Watch for them at the Saturday market. They are special people.

Deja vu all over again

2011-04-15T03:48:00.000-05:00

Last Friday I landed in Kansas City after five months in Merida. La Dulce was there to greet me. She had arrived an hour earlier on an all night flight from Rio. We rode home in a limo, courtesy of her employer. We had been texting each other of our progress homeward.

The jet set life hints of glamour. In the past it has been known to be a seductress for me. No longer. Her allure for me has faded. The old guy is getting wiser.

The temperature when I landed in Kansas City was 48 degrees. Everyone looks so pale. I'm not ready for this. I feel like I need some time in a decompression chamber. Or maybe a lobotomy.

The immigration official in Houston, upon learning I had been in Merida for five months, asked if I wasn't afraid of terrorists. "Never," was my response. "Not until I got to Houston." He glared but let me through.

I am enjoying my pressurized showers and flushing my sanitarios. That's pretty much it.

Life seems so foreign to me here.

Monday I went to the inner city of Kansas City, Kansas and renewed our expired vehicle tags. It was good to see some diversity and some real people. I spoke some Spanish and ate some street food. Had some habanero sauce. It felt good.

The trees are leafing out. The redbuds and lilacs are blooming. The lake looks pretty. But I still need more adjusting time.

I feel like a time traveler stuck in a bad dream.

This must be heaven

2011-04-13T03:16:00.000-05:00

La Dulce and I have both gotten used to being what we really are: a happy couple living simply, almost like third world peasants, in a foreign country. We find sweet moments every day. We favor quality of life above former standards of living.

We enjoy carefree moments in Mermaid Pool behind private garden walls. With our protected, screened doors open at night, it's like we are sleeping outdoors.

La Dulce has rediscovered herself in the kitchen. I like watching her pound chiles with the mortar and pestle while wearing nothing but a South Seas sarong.

Recently I bought a small bouquet of Jasmine flowers from the lady shown above. Their lovely scent filled our house for days.

We watch the sunset. We watch the moon rise. We listen to the sounds of the night while we cuddle up under the ceiling fan. What more could an aging man want?

Tropical bliss in the land of the parrots.

Tikin Xic

2011-04-11T03:18:00.000-05:00

The Chaya Maya is a restaurant in El Centro that is popular with tourists. It is located at the corner of Calles 57 and 62 and serves traditional Yucatecan food. It's a good place to introduce oneself to Yucatecan cuisine.

The hand made tortillas are quite good. When the restaurant first opened, its interior was a little sterile but during the last year has become much warmer with nice decorations and lighting.

My personal favorite food offering is the Tikin Xic. Their approach to this Maya food dish is a nice filet of grouper with clams, shrimp, conch and pulpo baked in achiote and sour orange with tomatoes, onions and peppers and wrapped in banana leaves. Traditionally this dish is baked in the ground below a wood fire.

Give Tikin Xic a try whenever you discover it. You won't be disappointed. The charge at Chaya Maya is 100 pesos.

Chaya Maya also has good Agua de Chaya and excellent Maya breakfast packages.

AANY art show

2011-04-08T03:24:00.000-05:00

The Spring AANY art show was this last weekend. It's always fun to go to see who new is exhibiting and which old favorites are back. I'm always amazed that people who I purchased from the previous show remember me the next show.

It's a good event to see friends and enjoy a frozen cappuccino. This time I got away without purchasing anything.

La Dulce will be relieved. Unsupervised, I can be dangerous as my tastes are a little circumspect.

Chichen Itza, take 2

2011-04-06T03:56:00.000-05:00

This past week, Jennifer Lopez was at Chichen Itza making a promotional video. It seems they let her climb the Castillo and kept the rude crowds from Cancun away while she was filming. There were no vendors present.

See my earlier rant about the misuse of this site here.

So the former pristine conditions at Chichen can be apparently re-lived if you own some attractive snake clothing and know the right people.

Swan Lake

2011-04-04T03:15:00.000-05:00

The Cuban State Ballet was back in Merida this year. I missed their first performance nine nights ago but Saturday night caught their final performance outside the Cathedral. This is always one of my favorite events in this city which is filled with such events.

Probably 20,000 Meridanos filled the Plaza Grande area to watch this spectacle. As in the past, many large screens were placed around the Plaza and its streets so that all could see this free event. I love watching the crowd's reactions, especially the young children practicing their ballet moves with their eyes glued to the big screens. It is a blessing to live in a city that believes all of its people deserve the opportunity to share in such cultural activities.

In December I paid $32 a ticket to see the Moscow Ballet perform the Nutcracker here in Merida. It was money well spent. Saturday night I saw better performances for free.

Earlier I was home watching the NCAA Final Four basketball game between VCU and Butler. There were four minutes remaining in the game and I left to walk downtown for the ballet. American Idol was coming on later that night along with the UConn and Kentucky game. I made the right choice. Back in the States I wouldn't have had the option. I would have simply joined the mindless robots.

You can get a little flavor of the evening by watching the composite video clip below. (Double click screen for enlarging.)