Archive for November, 2008

November 29th, 2008

Getting Down to Business…A Mexican Business

Libros y Suenos Lobby

Libros y Suenos Lobby

Bruce and Mary are still in the vacation mode of their escape to México, but they are nearing the end of their month on the beach. Today they check out an income possibility; a small hotel in Telchac Puerto on the Gulf Coast. Join them as they wait for a bus on the highway in front of their condo. Boogeyman rip

 

We’re pretty excited about this expedition into Telchac Puerto. The small hotel there that we want to investigate looks quite promising, on the internet. We’ve been standing in the sun for about 45 minutes waiting for a bus, but it is pleasant. This el norte,

cold front, is finally winding down, there’s not a cloud in the sky, no wind, and the temperature is cool, maybe mid 70s. In other words, it is a perfect day for traveling.

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Now it’s been an hour and I wonder if we’ll ever see an east bound bus, we’ve seen plenty of west bound. We’re just about to give it up for the day when Mary says, “Let’s wait for one more car.” And sure enough, right then a beat up green bus rounds the bend.

 

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We flag the bus and Mary asks how much. The bus driver says, “Veinte pesos.” Mary figures this is per person so she gives him four 10P coins. The driver gives her one back and as we’re sitting down, he and his buddy start heehawing. Mary catches a snatch of it and she says to me, “They’re laughing at me!” “Why?” I ask. “Because I thought it was 20P each but that was the total and he tipped himself a peso, and he thinks it’s funny as hell!”  I seldom see my mild mannered Mary that fired up, so while she stews I just stay clear. Final Destination dvdrip

 

Ocean front development becomes less crowded and more luxurious as we head east. We ogle at many million dollar homes. As we’re enjoying this sensuous Mexican bus riding experience, with odors as pungent as the colors are vivid, I feel a need to exchange gases with the atmosphere, a little more out than in. Normally I’m polite about these things but now I figure who’s going to know and sure enough I am

the only one who knows that this silent-but-deadly emanates from me, not the great Mexican outdoors.

 

We see a sign telling us that Telchac Puerto is 4 kms away and we start scanning our surroundings as we enter the outskirts of this little fishing village. A woman walks to the front of the bus and says, “Baja!” The bus brakes to let her out so I think, for some reason, we should exit too.

 

We’re on the main street of this coastal village that is laid out like a ribbon. I look to my left and it is a couple blocks to the ocean front and to my right it’s a couple of blocks to the low, scrub jungle. Mary is not happy that we did not ride the bus further into town but what the heck, it is a nice day for walking. We have walked perhaps a kilometer when I spot a rare two story building up the block. I can see a “Hotel” sign and when we get opposite the building I see a sign that says, “Libros y Sueños”; this is it!

 

We just stand there and gaze at it. It’s weird to see in bright daylight a sight that we had only seen on photos on the internet, way last fall and way up north, back home in Minnesota.

 

We cross the street and enter the tiny lobby and are greeted by a woman named Susan, who is a lively one. After our meet and greet, she turns to Mary and says, “So how does it feel to be married to Sean Connery?” “I get that a lot.” Mary responds. I attribute this to my similar male pattern baldness.

 

We get into a conversation about the place. The owner, Marion, is in Mérida at the moment but Susan, who is a property manager friend from….Canada, is quite forthright about the particulars of the listing. She tells us that it is listed for $199,000 but 175 will buy it. The motivation is the fact that her husband is back in Canada, of course, running a horse farm and the horses are not doing well, making it impossible for him to join her down here. Susan says, “I tell them, after all these years, come on! But they’re hopeless.” What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? hd

 

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Susan directs us to Pasquel the hotel handyman for a tour of the 8 units and the cute little bookstore off the lobby. They units are spartan, but clean. We rejoin Susan in the eclectically furnished lobby, complete with big screen TV. We quiz her about the clientele, room rates, occupancy rates, and overhead. Susan is quite knowledgeable and happy to answer all our questions. We pardon ourselves to take the short walk to the ocean to talk privately. This place is really cool! We walk back and ask Susan to have Marion give us a call on our cell when she gets in. We tell her to ask if Marion will consider financing and if so, how much down. Susan is happy to do so. We’re practically skipping as we exit the hotel to flag a bus.

 

While waiting for a bus and dreaming out loud about this, maybe our hotel, a Chrysler minivan pulls over and a middle aged man hops out of the passenger’s seat. This friendly guy wonders if we are looking for something. It seems that we look lost, a lot. We tell him that we’re waiting for the Progreso bus. He says, “We’re heading into Progreso. We can give you a ride and we’re a lot cheaper than the bus, well not a lot cheaper, they are pretty cheap!” We squeeze into the third row bench seat and engage in a spirited conversation with these, you guessed it, Canadians. These two couples have retired early, being around 50 I guess, and spend half the year in twin beach side condos that they point out to us as we pass them on the road out of town. Our quick paced chatter is interrupted only by a, “Look Flamingos!” We crane our necks the landward side of the road to get a look at the flock on the horizon of the ria wetlands. The only way you can tell they’re flamingos at this distance is the distinctly pink color of the haze of birds.

 

We arrive at our condo driveway. Lance and Carol Ann, Bruno and Janet wish us a hearty farewell and make us promise to stop in for brews sometime. They are

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Canadian, after all.

 

We’re buoyantly walking the dirt driveway, when our $10 Mexican cell phone rings. It is Marion, the owner of Libros y Sueños. She very politely tells us that she is not willing to finance any portion of the purchase price, but thanks anyhow.

 

We’re back to square one and we feel, quite naturally, pretty deflated. But we’re still here in México and that ain’t bad. On to plan B.

 

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Next, Bruce and Mary check out a B&B. Do you think they will have any better luck with that? Bruce enjoys any and all commentary. To do so, please click on the title of the post and scroll down. All commentary is acknowledged, almost immediately.

November 26th, 2008

No Vacation Can Last Forever

Xcambo, Mayan Ruins near Telchac Puerto

Xcambo, Mayan Ruins near Telchac Puerto

Bruce and Mary are still in vacation mode at this point in their escape to México while they lounge in their Gulf Coast beachside condo just outside Chicxulub Puerto. However, Mary is getting a little antsy. Let’s see how that plays out.

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I can hear the waves crashing above the howl of the wind for the first time in a couple days, as I awake in the predawn dusk. Perhaps El Norte is abating. The wind has been knocking us off our feet lately. But now I can see the sun rise on a clear, cloudless day. It’s about 62 F, now, and the temp has not risen above 70 during this February Mexican cold spell.

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Mary arises and makes our usual colorful, fruit-filled breakfast and I have my usual sardines for dessert and I do my usual busing and washing of dishes. After these small chores, I see Mary sitting on the patio gazing out over the sun-splashed ocean and looking somewhat pensive. I ask, “Is anything wrong?” “I’m just getting restless,” she replies. “That’s my advantage over you.” I playfully respond. “What?” she says. “That’s my advantage, I’m a lot lazier than you, and it takes a lot more down-time for me to get restless.”

 

I’m the only one who laughs at my joke.

 

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We do some self taught Yoga out of a book and then head down to the beach for some more exercise. We’re both gym nuts and I’m a certified trainer, so we have been doing some body weight resistance but very little cardio. So we hit the beach for a jog, avoiding the beachcombers and sharp things. After this righteous little workout I dive into the ocean and I swear it is 15 degrees cooler than a couple of days ago. Then we clean up and prepare for a jaunt into Chicxulub for a few essentials and mostly to just get out of the house. An el norte can give you a little cabin fever.

 

On the ½ mile walk to the highway, Tom, of Tom and Pam from Spokane fame Eight Below move , pulls up in his little rental car he’d secured for a few days while their friends had been visiting, and offers us a lift into Chic. We chat and Tom tells how Pam has been mooning over their little 3 year old granddaughter. He tells us that he loves his grandkids and kids, too, but by golly he’s a grown man and he’s not going to get homesick for his kids. I think I know why Tom is alone on this trip into town.

 

We have Tom drop us off at Los Barrilos, the main watering hole in town and we invite him in for a beer for the favor of a ride in. We chat for a bit and then Tom takes off for his errands and I fire up the computer, log into the free wifi, and pay the last of my utility bills. Our renter takes over from here.

 

As we’re checking emails, a gringo couple, mid 60s (?) introduce themselves. Austin is a professorial looking man with a closely cropped full beard and Lorraine is a darkly tanned, wizened woman who dominates conversation between the two of them. And no, they are not gringos, they are…Canadians. They are curious about our use of the laptop. They have always relied upon internet cafes when vacationing down here. Our little primer on wifi convinces them to bring their older laptop, with a wifi card, down with them next year. As we converse further it becomes apparent that they, like most Canadians we’ve met, know more about American affairs and politics than we do. I vow to myself to at least memorize the provinces and know off the tip of my tongue who the Prime Minister is because I have to pause and think to know it is Harper, Stephen Harper; right good reader?

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They take their leave and I ask Mary to get out the folder on possible B&Bs and small hotels in this area that we had researched back in Minnesota. After our conversation this morning I feel like it’s time to get on task. We look over our printout of a little hotel called Libros y Suenos. It’s affordable if they’ll finance, and we decide to visit first chance. We look at an online map and Telchac Puerto looks to be about 30 kms east of here. But we don’t know how to get there, and we can’t afford a taxi for that distance. We both walk over to Austin and Lorraine’s table and they are happy to help. No, the combis don’t go that far east, but the regular bus goes there and beyond. They thought we should be able to flag a bus right from the highway in front of our condo and the buses run that direction about every half hour, they thought.

 

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Returning to our table, we order another beer and ask for botanas, it’s about time to eat something. The botanas here range toward seafood: Pescado ceviche, pulpa, with cold creamed potatoes and carrots with taco chips of course, which suits me fine. Mary opts for the  sopa de lima. The waiter comes back to tell us they are out. She orders the Chicken and rice sopa

, soup. Same story and for the same reason, we find, they are out of chicken. Mary orders frijoles, which they have.

 

While we wait for our food I go onto the sidewalk to sun myself, like a lizard. This el norte is still hanging on, the temp is only low 70s, and the restaurant with the ceiling fans going is a little chilly for me in my tank top.

 

The food comes and as Mary and I dig in, we talk of how it feels good to have a little direction in our lives with this plan to check out Libros y Suenos. Actually I could stay

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in vacation mode forever. But Mary is not built that way and neither are our finances.

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We settle up the bill, pick up a few essentials and schlep our way back to the condo. This trip into Telchac Puerto should prove most interesting.

 

Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Will Bruce and Mary find true happiness at Libros y Suenos? Please stay tuned to see what Bruce and Mary’s strange karma brings. As usual, Bruce appreciates any and all comments. He promises to respond to all in very short order.

 

 

 

 

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November 24th, 2008

Fun with Visas

INM in Merida

INM in Merida

Bruce has left the storyline of their escape to México to, as a public service, sort of, give a little primer on the visa process in México. This information was all obtained first-hand and may save you some headaches if you are seeking an FM3 or FM2 visa for residency in Mexico.

 

 

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No one would ever call the immigration process in any country fun, but in Mérida it helps immensely that the INM, Insituto Nacional de Migración, staff is professional, friendly, and patient. The visa application process is a good example of what we mean by being on “Mexican time”. The existence of what we Type A Americans refer to as the snap, snap of “real time”, with rare exceptions, doesn’t exist down here. So if you do your visa application on your own, relax, you’re on Mexican time. Enjoy the cultural experience, we did.

 

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, forma migratoria turista, tourist visa, as is usually the case, was our first visa. If you’re driving in, this will be issued to you at the border crossing at a cost of about $20US. We flew in, and in that case it is built into the cost of the ticket. The only document required for an FMT is a passport. Customs officials at the border or airport will scribble the number of days, typically 30, until expiration, stamp your application and voila, you have an FMT visa. We got lucky and the INM official penned the maximum of 180 days on our visas. If you’re not so lucky, no big deal, the FMT can be extended for up to 180 days at INM. For some who only spend part of the year in Mérida, this is all that they may ever need. The cost to extend your FMT is about $20US. The cost to return home with an expired or lost visa is about $200US. The anxiety you will experience at the airport as immigration processes your penalty with your plane leaving the gate, priceless.

 

Most expats who intend, as we do, to make a home here upgrade to the FM3, no inmigrante visitante, The Break-Up trailer non-immigrant visitor visa. This visa grants the following privileges: You can reside year-round, open a Mexican bank account, with a work permit you can get a job, and you can open a business. Obtaining an FM3, as with all visa processes, is done at INM which is currently in a grand building on Avenida Colon three blocks west of Calle 72, Avenida Reforma; it is rumored they may relocate near the airport. Or you can get your FM3 back in the States or Canada at your nearest Mexican consulate. If you are transshipping your household goods to México, you will need an FM3 to do so. We came down here traveling light and have since heard some real transshipping nightmares, more on that in a later post. If you do get your FM3 state-side don’t feel too smug because your FM3 process only took two or three days, because you still have to visit INM to register your visa. If you have not registered your FM3 within 30 days of issuance you will be assessed a 1500P fine. I have heard expats whine, “Nobody told me about registering my visa!” Well, consider yourself told.

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When we tackled the FM3 application process it was assumed by the receptionist that we were applying for an FM3 rentista, meaning for INM purposes, we were retired. Mary and I looked at each other, we thought we were aging quite well, thank you. But we were glad that we were accidentally led down this road. If you are applying for an FM3 for business or employment purposes you will definitely want to retain the services of an abogado, attorney. Later we did discover that if you want to go to work, in the future, you can apply for a work permit to be added to your FM3 rentista at that time.

 

Our FM3 journey began with the first of 6 visits to INM. If you don’t like waiting in lines, get there early. INM hours are 9-1 weekdays and they are closed for every holiday you can imagine. The nice, older security guard gestured for us to sign in and then we got a number to affix to our shirts. We arrived early as recommended and had a chance to chat with others on the porch while waiting for the door to the reception area to open at the stroke of 9. Then we formed a line by order of our numbers leading to the reception desk. At the desk we asked for the requisitos para trámites migratorios para rentista, the list of docs needed for our FM3 rentista. These patient ladies speak very little English. If you speak very little Spanish you will want to enlist the aid of a local friend. If this is not possible it may well be worthwhile to retain an attorney. Your list will likely have these requirements: carta solicitud formulada por el extranjero – a formal letter, in Spanish, stating why you want an FM3 visa, original y copia del pasaporte vigente – copies of every page of your passport, plus the original, original y copia del documento migratorio vigente, copies of both sides of your FMT and the original, acreditar solvencia economica (ultimos 3 meses de cuenta bancaria) copies of your last three personal bank statements, and the original y copia del comprobante domiciliario, the original and a copy of a utility bill. The list also includes the fees involved. We ended up shelling out 444P for processing and 1172P (as of April 2008) for registration of our FM3s.

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For the formal letter, we used the template available at the MELL, Mérida English Language Library

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. On the bank statements they are looking for a monthly income of $1100US for an individual plus $600 for each dependent or the equivalent of a year’s worth of these dollar amounts as an average balance. These dollar figures do fluctuate and are less if you own property here. If you have concerns about qualifying, check with INM for the current income requirements. For the utility bill use your Japay, water bill, CFE – electric bill, or your Telmex bill. Oddly, these bills do not need to be in your name. They simply want them for the data entry of your rather complicated Mérida address into their computer.

 

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You may think that armed with the above information you can forgo the initial visit to INM to get your list of required documents but it is strongly advised you make this trip because these requirements do change from time to time, and even knowing the current requirements, putting together the “perfect file” is difficult.

 

We compiled all our papers and visited INM again. We didn’t need any money, yet. On this visit our paperwork was closely inspected by the receptionist who acts as a document screener at this point. We were asked a couple of clarification questions, in Español, and our papers were good with the exception of our formal letter of application being addressed to the wrong guy! The head of INM that we had addressed had been sacked or moved on, but the ladies were quite accommodating. While we waited they whited out the wrong name, penned in the current guy, and started our file at their computer. We did get the correction on the MELL template. Nocturna movie download

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At this point we got another number and a pink slip of paper, exited the reception area and took door number 1 on the left. There we sat down in another waiting room. It’s not a bad idea to bring a book or do as the locals do and chat with friends on your cell phone to kill time. When this number was called, we sat with one of the three processing women in the adjacent room. This very patient professional took our pink slip and entered the rest of our information into their system. Once again, we were asked some clarification questions. After about 20-25 minutes of data entry she printed out a form, the solicitude de trámite migratoria, request for migration process, and she kept our passport and FMT visa, which is a pretty creepy feeling. We found out later that if you are uncomfortable in giving up your passport you can ask them to certify the copy of it on the spot which, then again, they may or may not do. You can also come prepared with the copy already certified by a notaria publica . Our passports were returned, matter of factly, when we received our FM3 visas. At this point she gave us a bank form and she explained, in Spanish, that you take this form and the process form to any bank, pay the 444P fee, and get their receipt. She told us to return in a week with that bank receipt and the items on the new list that she gave us at that time. There are only two things on this list and this list is actually in English. Those items are passport type pictures and two personal references, Mexican citizens. For our references we used our landlord, Fernando, and our friend Nestor and we typed their names, addresses, and numbers on a plain sheet of paper.  For the pictures, Mary won out over my cheapskate urge to do it ourselves and we went to a professional photographer a block away. For 50P each, he got us exactly what we needed, and had them ready the next day. To pay the 444P fee, we experienced the joy of waiting in line for about 30 minutes (which is not bad for a Mexican bank – more on Mexican banking in a later post) to present the teller with the bank form, process form, and our money.

 

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Okay, now we have the bank receipt, the references, and pictures, and of course the process form. For the next INM visit you definitely want to be early. We weren’t and we found that at this stage of the game, INM will only process six FM3s per day. If you are number seven, like we were, you are out of luck and will have to come back another day. For some reason they told us to come back in a week, but then most everything down here happens (or not) in “about a week”.

 

A week later, at the front desk, the lady does a quick vetting of our main documents, gave us a number and sent us on through door number one. This time, when our number was called, we walked through the processing area, across the hall and we sat with a young uniformed INM officer who looked quite imposing. But he was quite patient and accommodating. He took our height in meters, weight in kilograms, our folks’ names, and our thumb prints. He gave us another bank form, this one is for the 1172P, and asked that we come back in …a week.

 

Repeated the bank visit, came back in a week. We were at the reception desk, and by this time the ladies recognized us. Mary thought they needed to review our docs again and as she dug through our thick file, our lady smiled at me conspiratorially, we were sharing a joke, and shooed us through door number one with our number. A INM official, a very pleasant heavy set gal wearing blue jeans, called our number. This day must have been casual Friday, because she and all other personnel were wearing blue jeans instead of their very official looking uniforms. We presented her with our bank receipt and the process form. She sat us down and in a short while presented us with our shiny, new FM3s. She explained the conditions, pointed out the expiration date and then, we were done! We did as most people do; we immediately went out to celebrate.

 

The FM3 is renewable annually in perpetuity and is the only visa most expats ever have or need. However, if immigrant status and permanent residency rights are the goal, the FM2 is the appropriate visa and application should be made immediately. An FM2 application can be made holding only an FMT visa. After holding the FM2 for the required 5 year period you can apply for full residence status giving you all the rights of citizenship save the right to vote. At this stage you can start the process towards Mexican citizenship. If you are holding an FM3 and you do decide to eventually become a citizen, convert your FM3 to an FM2 right away so the time towards the 5 year qualification period starts accruing right away.

 

If the idea of obtaining an FM3 or FM2 visa on your own is not your idea of fun, you can hire a local immigration lawyer, for a fee. In reality more expats than not, go this route, so don’t feel bad if the fee fits your budget and you have better things to do than make four to eight visits to INM, a couple to a bank, and several to tiendas de copias, copy stores.

 

Thanks for visiting gentle reader, oh excuse me did I wake you? Yes, Bruce knows this was pretty boring but for someone wondering about the visa process in México, particularly in Mérida, it might be pretty handy. Any questions are welcome and will be answered and not in “Mexican time”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

November 21st, 2008

Serendipity in Merida

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Calle 59 in Merida

Calle 59 in Merida

Bruce and Mary are still in vacation mode in their escape to México and have bused to the big city of Mérida for the first time to scout the city as the base of their operations for figuring out how to stick down here. When we left them last, they were being approached by a couple of crazy Canadians at their restaurant table, in the heart of Mérida.

 

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This silver bearded man and his exotic looking, belly button pierced wife approach our table and he says, “You guys look lost!” I reply, “As a matter of fact, we are, does it look that obvious?” I invite them to sit and we meet Jerry and Jasmine from Nova Scotia. In a rush we describe our situation; we’re brand new to Mérida, we want cheap housing, and we’d like to be downtown. Jasmine, who is one of those women who makes best friends in minutes, says, “Well, you can have our place! It’s only a few blocks away. And it’s only 3000P per month!”

 

Jerry, hawk nosed and tallish, gives their background. He is retired from corporate life at age 60, you qualify for Canadian social security at that age, and Jasmine, a former accountant (with tattooed eyebrows) had been down here for 4 months scouting houses. They had bought one, here in Centro, and are now just waiting to close on it. They’d secured an apartment on Calle 59, the main east/west street that cleaves downtown, on a week to week basis and they should be closing on their house next week.

 

“Wow!” is all we can say. They go on to tell us of neat markets, cheap beer, (you cannot talk to a Canadian for five minutes without talking beer) and friendly locals. We exchange cell numbers and they invite us to visit and they are off.

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Stunned, we finish our beers, settle our bill and head out. We take a right turn on Calle 62 heading north. I do appreciate the classic Spanish grid lay-out of the streets; all even numbered streets head north and south and all odd numbered streets go east and west. We still don’t have a plan as we weave our way through the throngs of people. As we walk we talk and decide the next order of business should be to take a look at Jerry and Jasmine’s place and why didn’t we think of that before they left? They had written their address down and while I’m trying to figure out how to get there, Mary spots them on the corner, and hollers at them.

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Feeling already karmically connected, we greet each other like long-lost friends, Jasmine hugging the both of us and inviting us to share a short cab ride to their temporary home. As Jerry is flagging a cab, Jasmine shouts, “There’s our landlord!” We look to where she is pointing and a small, white haired older man wearing a stylish Guayabera

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 has emerged from the crowd and is approaching us. In a combination of English, Spanish, and Spanglish we are introduced and told of brand new apartments he is listing for the same 3000P per month. Jerry says we’d be crazy not to look at them and we bid adieu to our new friends and follow Fernando to his Chrysler minivan parked in an estacionamiento Their First Mistake movie , parking lot, a few blocks away.

 

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Fernando takes us to his new complex, giving a mini-tour of the sights along the way, mostly in Spanish although he does try out a few English words that he is working on. Fernando is very proud of his city.

 

He parks the van and is happy to tell us that we are only a couple of blocks off Paseo de Montejo, a prime location for which we, at that time have no appreciation for whatsoever. The brand new one-bedroom, air-conditioned fully furnished apartment is nice and Fernando shows every aspect of it meticulously. Mary loves it and wants to commit on the spot but we confer. I really prefer like the idea of being in the heart of downtown. We tell Fernando that we will get back to him next week and he happily gives us a lift to the Santiago Mercado in Jerry and Jasmine’s downtown barrio.

 

We walk down Calle 59; this is a main bus route and noisy. We’re checking house and apartment numbers when suddenly I spy Jasmine through a wrought iron and concrete fence. Jasmine spots us at the same time. We hug again and sit down on their tiny patio fronting Calle 59 for beers and high energy conversation. Next door neighbor Veronica, another Canadian, joins us. Veronica is a skinny cigarette smoking woman who has resided in this apartment for 4 years and she loves landlord Fernando, who gave her a watch for her last birthday. She is quite the talker and we hear many stories about her colorful life. We also find that she is strangely proud of having no command of Spanish at all. I guess because she can get by without it.

 

We hear more of J&J’s background: Jerry’s early rock and roll career, their late in life marriage, Jasmine’s nasty car wreck that requires $3000 per month of pain meds which work really well with constant alcohol dosing. It’s a high time on the patio on Calle 59, the boom box and our conversations competing with the noise of the buses, finally culminating with Jerry breaking out some Xtabentum, Maya Ouzo, to toast our new-found friendship. After our toasts, we have to go. It’s getting dark and the buses quit running to Progreso pretty soon.

 

We take our leave with hugs and kisses and make our way to the Progreso bus terminal, then to the combi stand in Progreso, then to the combi stand in Chicxulub, and finally to our ½ mile long driveway to the condo. Listening and watching the waves lap in the moonlight, we sit on the deck for one last cocktail and toast our good fortune. This day has been a most excellent adventure.

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce would love to hear from you, please feel free to comment by clicking on the title of this post and scrolling down. Any questions will be answered and all comments good, bad, or ugly will be acknowledged, politely, and right soon.

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November 20th, 2008

Ma & Pa Kelley go to town, In Merida

Catedral San Idelfonso

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At this point in Bruce and Mary’s escape to México they venture into Mérida to scout things out. Although this vacation phase has lowered Bruce’s BP to near comatose levels, they know that it is in the big city, with its much lower cost of living, where they must base themselves to figure out how to stick down here with little money and no income.

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We are very excited about our first visit into the big city; we feel like little kids with visions of Mérida dancing like sugar plums our heads. We combi our way to the Progreso bus terminal and purchase roundtrip tickets for 22P, about two bucks each which gets us on board a very nice air-conditioned first class bus for the 40 Km ride into downtown Mérida. We are serenaded by an older Maya gent strolling up and down the aisle playing guitar and singing sonorously in his native tongue. Everyone tips him.

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On the way in we call, from our $20 Mexican cell phone, about one of our prospects for income down here, a small gym for only $74,000. We don’t have that, but we do have some money for a down payment. In response to an Espanol greeting from the listing realtor, we leave a voice message, hoping to hear back right away with where to get off the bus to visit them. I know, lots of forethought there and no such luck, either.

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On the outskirts of town we pass a Costco on the left and a huge shopping center called Liverpool with a parking lot bigger than the Mall of America’s, on the right. As we make our way into the heart of town the scenery becomes very classically Mexican with vivid colors and everywhere towering Royal palms, the first 4’ of trunk painted white. As we enter Centro, the architecture transitions to Colonial; continuous 18’ walls with 12’ doors interspersed w/grand buildings housing museums, universities, and theatres. Some of these buildings have massive 20’ tall wooden doors, mostly open, showing beautifully tiled lobbies.

We get to El Corazon, the heart of Centro and get off the bus directly across from La Plaza Grande, the central park of Mérida. We sit on one of the park benches and admire the scenery of flowering trees and topiary with paved walkways that converge upon a circle of paving stones centered by a Mexican flag flying from a tall flag pole. Across the park we gaze upwards at the oldest cathedral on the North American Continent, Catedral San Idelfonso, founded about 1590. The cross atop the bell tower is 42 meters above the pavement. The park has many, many benches of wood and wrought iron filled with people sitting in the shade doing absolutely nothing except relaxing. A surprising number of young people have laptops on their laps utilizing the free wifi in this park.

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our surroundings for a moment we suddenly realize that we have no real agenda after, hope-hope connecting with the realtor about the gym, which was conceived mid-flight. We are surprised that during this vacation part of our escape we have been living in the moment so much that we have forayed into Mérida without a plan when in our old lives we planned every frickin’ detail. But one thing we do know, we need to eat!

We wander aimlessly, seemingly always against the flow of the throngs of people traversing the skinny sidewalks in this, the bustling heart of Mérida. After literally going in a circle we end up at a restaurant directly off the NE corner of La Plaza and we wander in.

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The menu is tourist priced but we do see Lime soup, which is a meal and Tacos Al Pastor offered for 30 and 32P respectively and we do indulge in a couple of 25P cervezas. Mary’s soup is excellent and so are my Tacos. While Mary is in el baño, I see out of the corner of my eye a silver bearded gringo-looking middle aged guy eyeing me, which makes me a little nervous. This man is soon joined by an exotic looking big-busted woman of like age with blonde hair, tattooed eyebrows and a slender bared midriff sporting a belly button piercing.

Little did we know when Jerry and Jasmine approached our table that we would, that day, be getting a whirlwind tour of downtown Mérida from a local landlord, drinking beer and Xtabentun, Mayan Ouzo on a patio on Calle 59 in the heart of Gringo Gulch, and making friends with the craziest Canadians we will ever meet.

Thanks for visiting gentle reader and apologies for leaving you hanging. Bruce got a little carried away and hit his word limit for a single post. Please visit again soon for more about this most karmic meeting. Bruce is curious, did you like this post, did it stink, or did it simply bore you to tears? To comment, click on the title of this post and scroll down. As usual, all comments will be happily acknowledged, and in real time.

November 17th, 2008

Just Another Day in Paradise

The Colorful Chicxulub Beach

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The vacation portion of Bruce and Mary’s new life in México continues as they meet like-minded neighbors, and learn of Mexican laundry and Yucatecan history.

 

 

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We have the chance to meet more of our condo neighbors; Tom and Pam from Spokane. They’ve retired early like us, only with pensions and money, unlike us, but we like them anyhow. We have a lot in common; they like to have fun, drink beer, and they think Canadians are crazy, too. And we mutually wonder how it has come to be, that Canadians outnumber Americans 10 to 1, here on the beach.

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Their journey to these condos was not as fortunate as ours. Like us, they arranged for their beachside condo on the internet. A big difference though, was when they got to their condo, late at night in early February; they had no water and no electricity. Tom and Pam, being much more easy going than most people, put up with this for 5 days! Conditions got to a point that a good neighbor ran an extension cord to their unit so they had juice enough to run the water pump. Their toilet tank was dry, it’d been five days and they really needed to flush. Luckily, through a chance meeting, they found their way to our very nice, electrified condo complex.

 

Pam, having tired of schlepping their laundry all the way into Chicxulub, has arranged a laundry service to come by and she wonders if we would like to participate. Sure! A couple days later, Pam stops by to tell us that she gave up waiting for the laundry lady and she has hauled their stuff and ours to the laundry in Chicxulub. They’d already picked up their laundry but ours wasn’t ready yet. We thank them and as we are heading into Chic anyhow, this works out fine. We do begin to wonder just how stretched out Mexican time really is; this laundry woman, Justo’s plumber, the list goes on, but…does it really matter? No! We came here to be on Mexican time and these little inconveniences simply do not matter.

 

We combi our way into town, and upon debarking this 12 passenger Dodge van we cross the street to the laundry and pick up our smallish shrink wrapped bag of clean clothes for 67P! We understand this exorbitant price, when we see the owner pull up in his late model Extended Cab 4×4 Ford pickup. Next door is the panaderia Dark Honeymoon hd download Halloweentown High , bakery, and we knock on the locked door. The owner points at the sign, he doesn’t open for 15 minutes. Okay; it reminds me of the time I arrived at the Alexandria, MN library front door five minutes early, shivering in the 12 below arctic chill. Personnel stared at me until the stroke of 9. At least here I can get a suntan while I wait.

 

We shop for beer, just enough to tide us by, we have not figured out the beer dilemma Stomp the Yard divx yet and with those chores done we head to the popular local watering hole, Los Barrillos, The Barrels, for a couple cervezas, botanas, snacks, and free wifi. The beers are 19P, the cheapest served beer we have found yet. It’s a steamy day and this un-airconditioned bar is comfortable simply because of the numerous ceiling fans spinning away. After a couple beers, emails, and free botanas we hit the road and combi to our driveway. Our supplies are minimal, so we don’t pay the 10P premium to ride to our step, but walk the ½ mile dirt road.

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We’re pretty sweaty on this February day by the time we reach the condos, so I dive into the ocean and Mary takes advantage of the common pool. After our dips we see our condo rep Jaromey sitting in the shade waiting for a client. We help her kill time by happily participating in her Yucatecan history primer.

 

It seems Yucatan came late to the Mexican union, and in the early years of statehood, it was isolated by a lack of roads to the rest of México. Yucatan had been profitably trading with France and Spain and other European countries for many years at that time, and with 60% of the population consisting of Maya, Yucatan had and has retained its own unique identity. Even today, it is not uncommon to hear a Yucatecan say something like, “I’ll be taking a trip to México next week.” as if he isn’t standing in México at the time. Yucatecans take their identity as Yucatecans first, Mexicans second. Characterizing the very local scene, Jaromey goes on to tell us that some Progresans do not like Meridanos very much. They feel that Mérida tourists treat their town and beach as a playground in which they leave their trash and treat locals as personal servants. This is interesting; it reminds me of the way some people in our former home, the resort town of Alexandria, feel about Minneapolis tourists. I guess some things are universal.

 

Jaromey’s customer shows up and we take our leave. Mary fixes us a light supper on the deck: avocado, sliced onion, and tomato on toasted bread with jicama sticks, as we watch the sun set on the Gulf of México. It’s just another day in Paradise.

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce welcomes any and all commentary. He is curious, did you like this post, did it stink, or did it simply bore you to tears? To comment, click on the title of this post and scroll down. As usual, all comments will be acknowledged, politely, and in real time.

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November 9th, 2008

Combis, Groceries, and Taxis, Oh My!

 

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At this point in Bruce and Mary’s story they are in the vacation phase of their escape to México, living large on the Gulf of México coast, and figuring out the details of life on the beach. Stay tuned for information about Dollars and Pesos, cell phones, Mexican beer, and taxi tipping.

 

 Greetings, intrepid reader. Today is our first foray into

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Progreso by ourselves without Jaromey, our condo rep, holding our hands.

We start the day by successfully navigating the combis, 12 passenger Ford and Dodge vans, with a transfer at the Chicxulub stop, into Progreso. Not knowing where to get off, we end up at the little combi terminal which is in a handy location, close to our errands.

Our first order of business is….. get money! Actually exchange our Dollars for Pesos

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. Some people think and I have actually heard people say, “Oh they love Dollars, you don’t need to change your money.” Well that, my friends, is true for some vendors, because they will make money on the sale and then, when they give you change for your Dollars in Pesos, they will make money on the exchange.

 

We see no money change houses, casas de cambio Death Hunt dvd , but lots of banks. We spot a rare Mexican bank with a short waiting line and we change our money. This day in February of 08 the exchange rate is 10.82 Pesos per Dollar.

 

 Next order of business:  Get one of the cheap preloaded cell phones we have heard about. On the Malecon, we find one of the ubiquitous c-stores, Oxxo which carry them. We choose the 299P phone over the 399P choice which simply had a larger screen. We find that they come preloaded with 200P of calling time, so the cost of the phone is only 100P or about $9US. The clerk happily activates it, gratis, and we are in business. There is no owner’s manual for this Motorola, only a little pamphlet that gives the specifications, in Spanish. However the phone is intuitive and I am able to put a number in the directory, our condo rep, Jaromey’s.

 

 Next on our to-do list is get a lift for the Christmas sandals I received from my daughter, Helen. I’ve never worn sandals in my life but this is the new Mexican me. I have a short leg from an accident years ago so all my right shoes require a lift. We go on the hunt for a shoe repair man and we discover a little stand on the edge of a park. This is not Cancun where all the locals speak English. Thankfully, Mary speaks pretty decent Spanish and we make arrangements to get the lift put in and the quote is unbelievable, my last lift in Minnesota cost $75, this one, 120P or $11US. We arrange to pick it up the next day.

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Time for lunch. We walk the few blocks to La Habana on the Malecon and fire up our laptop as our server, a tiny man with a pencil thin mustache appears at our table. Jorge takes our order, a torta de atun, tuna fish sandwich for me and molletes

, refried beans, onions, tomatoes and cheese melted on slices of bread. Mary emails the kids and then we see on our Skype program that Judy our backyard neighbor (backdoor Judy when we want to give her a hard time) is online so we startle the crap out of her by calling. We exchange temperatures, 3F in Minnesota, 85F here, so of course we rub it in. We say our goodbyes as our food comes and we re-order cervezas. Jorge returns quickly to tell us that they have run out! This is our initial encounter with the Mexican phenomena of businesses often being out of stock of commonly purchased items. Not a big deal normally, but in the case of beer, it’s a little demoralizing but we quickly recover and practically inhale our food.

 

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Before we settle up, Mary Googles nopales, cactus, recipes but she is unclear on the prep of the cactus leaves. She asks Jorge and he instantly takes her on a tour of the kitchen where a chef shows her how, first hand. Jorge has ensured himself a nice tip.

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Armed with cactus power we march along the Malecon towards where we think the Bodega Aurerra supermarket is, however, this takes us right by Buddy’s, a popular expat watering hole, according to Jaromey. Mary wants that beer we never got so we stop in and belly up to the bar. We ask to meet the famous Buddy who radiates a benign boredom as we try to make conversation with him but he does present us with a Yucatan Today magazine which, we understand, is the bible for the Yucatan tourist, and hard to come by. Mary, professional proofreader she is, spots a couple of typos and she says, “I want to work there.” I laugh. Little did we know then, how involved we would become with the good people of Yucatan Today in just a few months. In further perusing, we find a map of Progreso in the magazine and we see exactly where the supermarket is.

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We walk the 10 block walk to Bodega in the Yucatecan heat. The air conditioning of the store is most welcome. Mary heads for produce and sundries, my job is beer. I’m bummed at the cost of the popular beers such as Sol and Dos Equis and I first become conscious of the Mexican beer conundrum. I can buy 3 hand sized fillets of Mero, grouper for 22P, about $2US but a six pack of Sol is about five bucks! I settle on Gallo, a Guatemalan import that runs only 28P per six pack but it’s not Mexican beer.

 

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We’re back out in the heat with our 50 pounds of groceries and debating the 8 block walk to the combi stop and fooling around with the combi layover in Chicxulub or just taking one of the taxis right in front of us. Cheap sucker that I am, I do the math and I am willing to pay about a 70P premium, a total of 100P, for a taxi ride to the door of our condo. The taxi driver says 120P. We’re sweating, the bags are heavy, we don’t argue.

 

On the way we debate what the tip should be if any, our privacy insured by the driver’s lack of English. I win out, saying that when they give you a quote that’s all they want. At the condo I pay the 120P with 150P in bills and the driver happily gives us change while telling us the Mayan words for “We’re here!” which we don’t write down and promptly forget.

 

 We put away the supplies, grab beers and hit the patio to gaze at the Gulf of México panorama. It’s been a good day.

 

 Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce welcomes any and all commentary on this or any other piece. As usual, all comments will be acknowledged and questions answered, in real time.

 

 

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November 7th, 2008

Beach Side Condo and Castro

Breakfast

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To this point in the story Bruce and Mary have made their escape to México and are settling into their new home, the beachside condo outside Chicxulub, for a month of “decompression”.

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Mary and I are really getting relaxed as we develop our new routines in the vacation mode of our Move to México. Our routines start with the early riser, me, up at sunrise and getting the excellent Mexican coffee going. Then I head to our patio overlooking the ocean to make my daily journal entry and watch the day break. Mary is up a while later and puts together our usual breakfast of fresh, beautiful fruit and bread and I, of course, have my sardines for a chaser. I am so relaxed that my blood pressure is 106/65. The Poet dvd

 

After breakfast we would often do yoga routines, walk the beach, take dips in the warm ocean and the common pool, do crosswords on the beach, play boggle (for the first time in 20 years) on the deck and start drinking at 3, which we saw nothing wrong with, being on vacation and all.

 

After a few days of this total relaxation we were running low on supplies and needed to run into Progreso to restock. Our neighbor Justo volunteered to call a combi for us and we chatted in the shade on the steps on our complex. As we were waiting Justo explained that the combis cost 5P to run into Chicxulub and then you have to grab another combi at the stop in the plaza area to get all the way into Progreso. As we talked he became impatient with the combi service and called again.

 

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I had assumed Justo was a local, out of Mérida, and that this was his vacation property but he surely didn’t seem to operate on Mexican time. I asked his background and found that he was a Cuban radical in the days of Castro’s rise. Somehow he was sponsored by some US Senator for a visa and referred to Puerto Rican Immigration. He traveled by way of Harlingen, Tx to Houston, Atlanta, and finally arrived in Puerto Rico. For the US part of his adventure he donned a business suit and tie, bought a Washington Post to put under his arm and not having acquired English yet, pointed to his throat as if he had laryngitis whenever anyone would ask a question or try to make conversation. It worked all the way to Puerto Rico. Next stop was Miami, where he met his Italian born wife, got a job in social services, and made a home in the Fort Lauderdale area, eventually retiring to his vacation home here.

 

He told me that he still has a son and a brother in Cuba and that in 1990 his brother called him and said democracy was coming soon. In 1997 Justo called and asked his brother how that democracy thing was working out and that has been their last conversation. I asked how Castro’s poor health was impacting the country and Justo told me that it doesn’t matter, that his circle will just take over. And he added that Castro will take longer to die than anyone expects. Not only does he come from a long-lived line, but he also maintains the revolutionary’s attitude that if you die, your enemy wins. Angel

 

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In my business dealings, I had dealt with many Floridian Cubans and I know that they all hate Castro and unfortunately they have the political influence to maintain what the whole world knows to be ineffective and totally political; the embargo. But I listen politely and just then, thankfully, the combi pulls up, and we took our leave and headed into Progreso via Chicxulub.

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce welcomes any and all commentary on this or any other piece. As usual, all comments will be acknowledged and questions answered, in real time.

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November 5th, 2008

Obama’s Victory, Beyond the Borders

Bruce is compelled to take another break from his Chicxulub beachfront condo chronicles to give a report from his part of the world regarding the Barack Obama victory.

Free at last, Thank God Almighty we are free at last from the tyranny of George W. Bush and his neo-con Republican party. That is the way we and all our gringo friends here in Mérida, capital of the Yucatan, feel about the election results.

I’m not sure how we got into this club but most of our friends are comfortable if not wealthy and they’re all liberal! We’re not used to this, being accustomed to an upper class that hoards its wealth and greedily maneuvers for more, not caring about anyone else. You may remember when Bill Gates, Sr. toured the country a few years ago. His solitary talking point was that the wealthy should pay more taxes. His reasoning was that the wealthy benefit the most from America’s singular economic infrastructure and that the cost benefit ratio is out of whack. His argument was the cost, their tax liability, was simply too low for their benefit, wealth. These Mérida gringos will not complain when Obama restores the tax rate from the current W tax cut rate for the rich of 36% to the former 39%.

Our local friends had been asking us daily of our thoughts on the campaign and the candidates. Without exception they all hate Bush, but usually we’d have to volunteer we hated him first before we’d hear all about it. One friend wondered if America was still too racist to elect a black man. When I assured her that I thought America was ready she wondered if many would say they would vote for Obama only to vote the other way in the privacy of the voting booth, which was eerily reminiscent of the Bradley effect Rails & Ties rip . A good friend, Sara Millet an abstract artist of some renown here in México pointed out to me that abortion is a huge issue in this very Catholic country, and that even though she hated Bush, she was concerned about Obama’s position. When I pointed out the overriding appeal to Obama’s campaign was Change she reminded me that Vicente Fox was swept into the Mexican Presidency by a tidal wave of change and reform. In her mind, when he left office, things were worse.

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Our friends John and Jane Grimsrud have lived here for 26 years and over the course of those years they have bicycled pretty much the entire Yucatan peninsula, which they chronicle in their blog. Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus 3-D trailer The Truman Show release

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Europeans follow our politics closely, they have to. We Americans still have some laws intact at the end of the W era that protect us from the government. There are no laws protecting other countries from our government. Last July Obama appeared in Berlin and 200,000 people turned out for the rally. That was the largest turnout of any event on his campaign trail. In France an official said that he was tired of the arrogance displayed in the phrase, “Leader of the free world” But he said “Obama can say that”

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Thanks for visiting gentle reader. Bruce would love to hear other views of Obama’s victory and as always, all comments will be acknowledged, all questions answered, and all this in real time.

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November 4th, 2008

The Mexican Beer Conundrum

Today Bruce takes a break from his beach condo chronicles to do as promised in a recent post, explain what he has discovered in México about that most important of topics, beer.  

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I like to call it the Mexican beer conundrum. Beer is not the cheap commodity you would expect. A glass of beer in the nicer restaurants, here in the Mérida/Progreso area will run you between 20 and 40P, roughly the same as back in Minnesota. However, beer for the fridge, using the popular Sol brand for a benchmark, will cost about 110P, about $11 for a twelve pack. Now if you’re like me, beer is a basic staple of life, and I was used to buying midrange quality beer such as Hamm’s for about $12 per case, about half of the cost of Sol, here.

 

Most people know that México does not have a problem with monopolies. In the case of beer, it is a near monopoly with two large companies controlling virtually the entire beer market in México. These two companies are FEMSA and Grupo Modelo. And they play to win. We have heard story after story about some small regional brewery getting a little too popular, causing one of the two giants to swoop in, buy it up, shutter the doors, and go on about their business.

 

FEMSA is a general beverage company dating back to the 1890s and their brands are: Tecate, Sol, Dos Equis, Carta Blanca, Superior, Indio, Bohemia, and Noche Buena.

 

Grupo Modelo produces Corona, Negra Modelo, Modelo Especial, Modelo Light, and Pacifico. Ready or Not movies For the domestic market only, they also produce Victoria, Estrella, Leon, and Montejo brands. Grupo Modelo is 49% owned by Anheuser-Busch, but control of the company remains in Mexican hands.

 

Grupo Modelo’s well known Corona brand is basically an American style pale lager and although it is the number one imported beer in the world it is not the favorite of most expats. Two of the more popular brands, Dos Equis Ámbar and Negra Modelo were heavily influenced by 18th century German immigrants. These Vienna style lagers are not as heavy as most British Ales and are considered to be fuller bodied with a more malty sweetness and character than the pale pilsners.

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Mexican beers are typically served with slices of lime and salt and for the more adventurous beer drinker there is the Michelada beer treatment. The Michelada recipe varies from place to place but it is usually lime juice or wedges of lime, Worcestershire or the local Maggi sauce, hot sauce, and ice in a salt rimmed glass with your favorite cerveza. This is the way we drink our beers most of the time. We love the taste and as cheap as I am, I like the fact that it “stretches” our beer supply.

 

Despite any real price competition between these two beer giants, we have found ways to save money. First, we sampled the local beers, when we had the time. The premium beers such as the Modelos, Dos Equis Ámbars, and Bohemias are pretty darn tasty, but if you’re like us, even the mid and lower range beers such as Superior, Estrella, or even Montejo are a lot better than any beer we quaffed up north. I must admit, however, that even though Superior is our regular beer in the fridge, Bohemia Oscura is heavenly and my absolute favorite beer on planet earth.

 

We have discovered that if the bar scene is your bag, you’ll probably find happiness right in your own neighborhood. Chances are good that within walking distance of home you will find a “Bar” or a “Cantina” or a “Salon de Familia” that caters to the locals. Don’t worry, gringos are happily tolerated. The Bars will serve both genders but the Cantinas serve only men and can be a little raucous, but don’t worry, beer drinkers of the gentler sex, a Salon de Familia is usually connected to the Cantina and entire families are accommodated there. Cantinas are marked by their old west style saloon doors and sometimes Bars are too, but a Cantina always says Cantina above the door. Unless you came for just one beer, buy your beer by the litro, liter. These liters are actually 940ml except for the brand Victoria which comes in at, as advertised on the bottle, 27% mas, 1.2 liters. By the litro, expect to pay 30 to 35p for the low and midrange beers usually found here. Another feature we love at these neighborhood bars is the botanas, free appetizers, which the servers will generally keep coming until you say, “no mas.” The range of these botanas is from pretty good grub to, look out! It is true that every part of every animal is eaten somewhere in the world. Botanas are not exclusive to the neighborhood bars. Some of the finer bar/restaurants also feature higher quality botanas but you’ll pay a premium for your beers.

 

Through happy trial and error we found that a good way to stock your fridge is, depending upon where you live, by the litro, sold in returnable bottles. If you can find litros of beer at the The Truman Show on dvd corner store down the street as low as 15P or so, this is a good route to go. If you live in Mérida, an excellent buy is the Superior sold at the government subsidized ISSTEY grocery stores. These are sold by the can currently for 5.5P each or 8 packs for 48P. If you do the math, you will buy by the can. But the best buy in beer in all of Mérida and Progreso, at this time, is actually a Guatemalan import, Gallo. This beer is only available in the Wal-Marts and Wal-Mart owned Bodega Aurerras stores. The cost for this intrepid beer is 29P per six-pack. These three options put the cost of beer pretty close to the $12US Midwestern benchmark. As we discovered the hard way the night we arrived in Progreso, off-sale hours are 10:00AM to 10:00PM, Monday through Saturday and 11:00AM to 5:00PM on Sundays.

 

So the reality is, really cheap beer just isn’t available here, but at least we’re drinking Mexican beer and not Hamm’s, so, bottoms up!

 

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Thanks for visiting, gentle reader. Bruce would love to hear from other Mexican beer drinkers and as always, all comments will be acknowledged, all questions answered, and all this in real time.

 

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