The New Juan Diego

Yesterday was December 12th. Before I go on, I should say that December is quite crazy in general in Oaxaca. From about December 8th onwards, you can pretty well count on parades every night, fireworks every night, festivals every weekend. And then, to top it off, we have three Virgins to help us make December even more fun. First is Juquila, who I have not yet made a pilgrimage to visit. She lives near the coast, and some day (as I have been invited) I will do the three day walk through the Sierras to pay homage to her. Later this month, I promise to blog about Our Lady of Soledad, she is my favorite, but she runs a close race with Guadalupe.

Back to the deal with the 12th. The Virgin of Guadalupe's special day of celebration is December 12th. Guadalupe has a long and very interesting history. Originally I believe she "existed" in Turkey and immigrated to Spain. In 1531, she appeared to a peasant, Juan Deigo. After much back and forth, she pulled off several miracles to help convince a small minded Bishop that he had best build her a shrine, or else. (A recovered ailing Uncle, flowers where no flowers grew before, and her image emblazoned on Juan Diego's cloak. Groups of three worked their special magic even then...)

You can read more about Lupe here: Our_Lady_of_Guadalupe

And so, her history as the Mother of all Mexicans begins. You could debate her authenticity, but you could not debate that she is celebrated. All over Mexico. Real fans might make the pilgrimage to Mexico City to her shrines there. In Oaxaca, her church is over by Llano Park, so last night we head over to help celebrate her. As we are immigrants, we are forgiven for not liming up for hours to be blessed in her church. As we are childless, we are forgiven for not being able to dress our little ones up like Juan Diego:

Is he not the cutest? Thanks to his parents for letting me take the pic!

As white folk walking around, we are encouraged to participate in taking our picture with the live donkeys. We took two. If we had a little Juan Diego, we would have had him on the donkey, of course.

Yes, yes, this is a real donkey...

And this mini donkey is real, too!

And finally, as Ralph is a bit older looking, we are forgiven from not getting on the spinning, turning, rides.

And if this in not forward thinking, I am not sure what is. The modern version of Juan Diego, traveling through the mountains to look for the Bishop not on his mule, but on his shiny red All Terrain Vehicle...

Two down, one Virgin to go. And then... the Radish Festival!

The Hotel - All of It

“You have to live spherically - in many directions. Never lose your childish enthusiasm - and things will come your way.”

― Federico Fellini

The story starts way back in June, maybe July, I can't exactly remember. Before I get to far in the story, let me give you an insight: When Ralph and I moved to Oaxaca, we had no specific goal in mind as to what exactly we would do here. We knew we wanted to run a business, make money, likely we figured something in the tourist industry, but other than those fleeting, nebulous ideas, nothing more. We met a guy in Costa Rica once and his theory was that you either found out what you wanted to do in life, and then found a place to do it, or you found a place you loved, and then figured out a way to live there. We were opting for the latter, wholeheartedly.

Arturo (our Spanish teacher and friend) showed up with an opportunity. Were we interested in renting (and subsequently operating a small hotel? 18 rooms. His landlady was the owner. I said we would think about it.

Ralph and I talked about it. Only if it was turn-key, we decided. If we did not have to dump a whole bunch of capitol into it to get it to be functioning. We spoke to Arturo and told him we wanted to go look at it. In true Oaxaca fashion, we were invited over within the hour.

(Side note: If I have learnt anything from living in Oaxaca, it is that you just have to be willing to go with whatever is happening - a parade blocks the street you need to cross? Stop, enjoy, take pictures, wait, and be where you were originally headed 45 minutes late. Still drives Ralph a bit nuts.)

The hotel was lovely. Reasonably maintained, a bit dated but not terrible, three floors with lovely plants and a third floor kitchen and a rooftop patio with great views. We talked to the owner, and the meeting was typical Oaxacan. I asked if she had records, for the past five years. Oh, of course not, she said, it is just too much paper to keep. Of course, I said, I completely understood, we had just moved out of a house we had lived in for 15 years. I could give a class on efficient paper shredding.

And so we went through the hotel. Room by room. And then we came home and gave it a hard think over a bottle of Malbec. We had two main issues:

• Lifestyle: It was be a 24/7 business for at least the first few years. We like to travel, ski, beach - none of that for a few years.
• Money: They wanted 50,000 MXN in rent, per month. Seemed a bit steep.

Before I go any further, you can google "Hotel Cazomali" and the hotel website will come up.

We both believe there is a ton of opportunity to make that hotel awesome. We also both felt it would take us at least 2 years to get it heading in the awesome direction.

Next steps? We sent them two pages of questions - basically expenses, insurances, guest registries, anything that might help us get a handle on the financial piece. We half expected them to tell us to piss off. Two weeks went by and we got an email, requesting a meeting. The meeting went as I anticipated. They gave us some expense information, no guest information and confirmed what we had suspected.

They run their business as many a Mexican runs his business, taking advantage of the common value that it is OK to do some things under the table. Maybe more than some things. Maybe things like paying all the staff in cash, having no employment contracts, charging nationals no tax if they pay their hotel bill in cash, and the list can go on and on. I explained we would not have the luxury of running our business the same way. I lived in Oaxaca as a Permanent Resident at the pleasure of the government. I am here as a guest. Not complying with laws means deportation for me. Not an option.

At this point, Ralph and I were headed on our 2 month jaunt across 4 countries over two continents, and they too were heading on an extended vacation. We agreed to next steps around the middle of October, when we returned.

Upon return, we met with a lawyer to have a preliminary discussion about law similarities. First right of refusals for purchasing, survival of contracts upon death, inheritance, etc. Nothing special, all seemed reasonable and we liked the lawyer.

We then met with the owners and they did not want to use a lawyer, they wanted to only use a notary, and they wanted to start the process with their own contract. I explained that as a foreigner, unfamiliar with the laws, I felt better with a lawyer. They could certainly draft a contract, or I could ask our lawyer for a draft.

We ended up sending them a draft, which was convenient, because it allowed Ralph and I to look up all the Spanish words and phrases we did not know. When we showed up to review the contract with them, they presented their own.

I had initially proposed a three year drop in initial rent. They disagreed, and felt we were buying an established business. We disagreed. They had not had a review on trip advisor since 2011, nothing notable elsewhere.

In spite of going back and forth several times, I eventually withdrew us from negotiations. The rent they were looking for was just beyond what we could reasonably expect to be successful with, and I was not interested in funding their retirement at the cost of my own nest egg.

We had friends visiting while the thick of negotiations were going on, and bless them, they were so patient and listened and discussed and reviewed and researched and shared their thoughts. We had told many of the potential.

Are we disappointed? Not really. We would have loved the adventure, but we feel good about where we left off. Another friend expects they will be back. We are OK either way. What is supposed to come, will come, and it will be good and right.

Getting Back... Giving Back.. And Putting Up

Busy. When did this become a good thing? Since August, we have been going pretty well non-stop, with time to post a quick little bit on Facebook as we drove or flew or waited for luggage or drove some more. I had always said you would have to work hard to be bored in Oaxaca, for there is rarely a moment, an evening, a morning, when there is not something to draw you into the cobbled streets and music venues, friends with rooftop patios await and then guests arrive. Here we are, November 30th. Christmas decorations are everywhere, the sun is shining, and we have a two week gap between friends visiting. Time to get back to blogging, newsletters, our tour company, our sofa and our Netflix addiction.

(Admittedly it is hard to be truly and with commitment and gusto addicted to Netflix with our schedule, but we make vain attempts at binge watching. We managed two whole episodes of something the other day. Whoa!)

My conundrum is this: Do you want to know what the heck we have been up to since August, or shall I just skip to our failed hotel negotiations and putting up the "family wall"? A bit of both?

I read a quote this morning I want to share: To live in Oaxaca you must do so with all the senses: you must relish it with both your mind and your heart.

Nothing, nothing, nothing could be more true.

August and September were travel months - Canada, the US, France, England - 8 weeks away was way too long. Four was the point where I lamented that I wanted to go home, but we were a week away from going to Paris, France, in order to take this picture:

What did I miss, other than my cats and my own bed and pillow? I missed my neighborhood, my market, my friends, the lifestyle, cooking, the prices, and the culture. But what I really wanted, needed, yearned for, was the smell, and to see "my mountains". I know I have to share the Sierras we are surrounded by, but not seeing them left a little empty space.

And then, mid-October, we were home. We had visited, run the Grande Classique, run a Mud Run, eaten lobster, sold a car, started reno on a cottage, driven our stuff to a storage locker in Laredo, Texas, and then we got on a plane and flew home. And it was good.

Then we left again for Puebla, a city about 4 hours north of Oaxaca, to buy a car. We drove this car back, and then welcomed guests (2 planned and 5 unplanned) for a few weeks. The five unplanned were five Canadian guys riding motorcycles from Canada to Argentina. The trip evolved and they are now headed back to Canada, but they were with us for a week. During Day of the Dead. They became the brothers I never knew I needed, and I was sad and teary to bid them farewell. Back to Day of the Dead. Wow, we had a ton of fun.

And then our next round of guests arrived, and we had more fun. We went to the beach, and snorkeled and swam, and played in the city and saw a trumpet recital and a somewhat awful play in French and a foreign film in German with Spanish subtitles and visited with a friend from Sonora and went to Yagul (my second favorite ruin) and I had café americano while Ralph brought Sue and Ron through Monte Alban. Maybe the very best thing was that I unpacked some of the stuff we had brought from Canada. I put up a bunch of pictures of family and friends. Taking down these pictures was about the only thing that made me sad when we were moving, but I reminded myself - the next time I put them up would be in my house in Oaxaca. And the second best part was they did not fall off the wall during the little earthquake we had.

I will save failed hotel negotiations for later this week...

Border Crossings

We are driving North again. For a variety of reasons, which may be the subject of further blogs, but for right now, the Summer 2016 RaT (Ralph and Tanya) multi-continent Tour began almost two weeks ago now. As I try to remember all the things I am forgetting, I thought I would blog, of course...

When crossing a border as anecdotally interesting as the US-Mexico border, there are particular things that cross one's mind in anticipation of the Big Moment. I say anecdotal because although we have heard stories, our experiences have been nothing but positive in all 6 cases where we have driven to or from Mexico. 

I anticipate inspections. On three crossings we brought a cat with us. Three times our vehicle was loaded to the headrests of our front seats. This last time was the first crossing as permanent residents. I always expect the car to be emptied. I look for things in our things that would raise eyebrows.

The cooler: We left Oaxaca with our little travel cooler for snacks and lunches for a few days. We had forgotten our ice packs at our friend Lisa's and left a large round tupperware at Wendy's, so this crossing we had an empty cooler with frozen ice packs and an empty large size tupperware container. We are OBVIOUSLY organ harvester/transporters, applying for permanent residency to have our trips go undetected. Watchlist candidates, in the very least.

Contraband: Pick one, any one. One trip I had four pair of sneakers/tennis shoes, three new, one old, two size 8, one size 8.5, one size 10. OBVIOUSLY there was contraband hidden under the insole. Rip the car apart.

Cigars: In spite of knowing the import rules (because I looked them up and printed them off and read them out loud), Ralph always has more than our allowance. Or Cuban cigars. OBVIOUSLY we have a cigar shop and we are trying to avoid paying duty on our commercial purchases. White collar crime crack down. Rip apart the van. Don't forget to look under the insoles of those shoes.

Sheer Volume: The first time we drove down we had a Suzuki Swift+. Hatchback. One Siamese cat. The car was packed full to the backs of the seats, the roof, tight to the windows and there was stuff in the footwell on the passenger seat. I thought there was no way we would be allowed through without inspection. The second time we had a Dodge Grand Caravan. Same scenario. We  OBVIOUSLY have something to hide. Needle in a haystack. Rip the car apart.

The reality: The first time they did not even come out to look at the car, or the cat. The second time I ask if they need to see the cat. (Much to Ralph's dismay, as I had to go looking for someone to ask!) The inspector looked through the window at the cat. Opened the trunk and my four new boxes of feminine hygiene products toppled out. He remarked we had a lot of stuff for six months. I remarked that I was a cook and not prepared to work with less than superior quality cooking tools. He told us to drive safe and have a nice trip. We were asked about our excess cigars and reminded that we were only allowed 20 per person, and the duty was ridiculous, 75% of the value, so we should really try to keep the numbers under the threshold, so they would not have to charge us. Of course, this "first time" there was no problem or requirement to pay. We have never been treated anything but politely, and this last drive up, although the process took 2.5 hours due to sheer volume of travelers, the officer at the immigration desk filled out all our forms for us, and made sure we understood the rules. 

Lucha Libre, at last!

It has been way too long since I have sat down and updated everyone on what the heck we have been up to. The days just fly by and by the time I realize it, we've been out all day and it's time for bed.

Lucha Libre - "Free" Wrestling is an embedded cultural event all over Mexico. Good versus evil is a worldwide theme with great appeal, and Lucha delivers!

We had seen posters up before for the Lucha Libre, and we had been once in Mexico City but had not yet been in Oaxaca. A friend of ours had been and said it had been good fun, so off we went to buy tickets.

See that little black square? Cut out of the poster? 

In such typical fashion, the place where the ticket booth used to be was bricked up, and you had to bang on the large metal door and then a young woman opened the little peep window shown in the pic above, asking what we wanted. After she established what we were after, the large door swung wide and we were ushered into a large office and bought 8 tickets for the third row. Third row is important as the wrestlers literally come over the barriers into the crowd, so unless you are looking for a wrestler in your lap, third row is recommended.

The show was incredible We were early (in typical foreigner fashion) and took the opportunity to get a few fashion shots in while the lighting was good.

Jordan, Tanya & Ralph

Once the show started it was nothing short of close to 4 hours of men in tights being tossed around the ring. Although hard to really pick a favorite, these two guys will be near to my heart forever. I think they were brothers. They arrived in shiny white tights with their granny panty lines showing, man boobs and awesome beer bellies. They were fantastic! Energetic, great use of space and audience, and the love from the crowd was the same love one has for the favorite family uncle. I guess their "shtick" is to accidentally hit each other, which then causes them to argue and then the crowd shouts, "¡BESO!" (KISS!) and the boys give each other a kiss, a little hug, and then continue beating up on the other team.

Before the disrobing...

Do you see what I see? A star, a star...

The Leap. This is where I fell in love.

What more can I say. For 200 pesos per ticket (CDN $15) it was one of the most entertaining, exciting, raw, hysterically funny evenings I have had in a long time. If you have the chance to check one out somewhere in Mexico, go! 

Take me out to the ball game... Oaxaca Style

Going to sporting events is something we do in Oaxaca that we rarely if ever did in Canada. I can probably count on one finger the number of football (American style) games I went to, and the same goes for the rest of the world style (aka soccer) as well. Baseball? Maybe once ever five years or so. Hockey? If it was a company event. Baseball? Same same. If someone else was buying the tickets, I was game for the entertainment.

In Oaxaca, we actually go "frequently". I put frequently in quotes not because it is a foreign or uncommon word, but because compared to our past patronage, our Oaxaca level of participation is downright frequent. Since we have moved here officially, we have been to one football game and two baseball games. Shocking. Here's an idea of why:

The prices: Yesterday being Father's Day meant Ralph's ticket was free. FREE. My ticket for centre section was 25 pesos. C$2. Yes, you read that correctly. Two Canadian dollars. In addition to that spectacular pricing is the awesome concept of having a ticket for a section. So you can sit anywhere your heart desires within that section. Pretty cool, right?

We pick our spots between home and first base and start to crowd watch (yes, yes, we paid attention to the game, too, but...)

First we had a beer, no pictures required. Ralph had a Bud Light and I had a Victoria, which was on sale (!!) for 15 pesos. 2 beer, 40 pesos.



Next was the difficulty in deciding what to eat.

Chips?

Popcorn? Cheesies?

Empanadas? Of course with all the fixings available in little plastic bags... limon, salsa, jalapenos...

Nachos or peanuts?

Tostadas? (Look how lovely this lady is? How could you resist a tostada?)

Wait, are those guys in the corner flogging... pizza?? For 50 pesos? Pepperoni or Hawaiian?

How about a little sweet to keep the game exciting?

Or maybe something cold? You guessed it, paletas (ice cream popsicles).

Our team lost, but with all that food going by, who cares? Next week - Lucha Libre - Mexico's Free Wrestling. Tickets are 200 pesos for "numbered" seats. I think watching grown men toss themselves about in tights is well worth 200 pesos.

What do I miss?

My guests and family, acquaintances and strangers often ask me if there is anything I miss from living in Canada, and I often draw a blank. Since living here in 2009/2010, a lot has changed, and access and availability to goods I would have missed years ago is just no longer an issue. We have pretty good cheeses now. Don't get me wrong, if I found aged Balderson cheddar cheese in the supermarket here, I would be doing an enthusiastic happy dance in the cheese and dairy section, but pretty well most things are available.

I was just in New York celebrating a friends birthday and I realized there is one thing I do miss, but lots from Oaxaca that I miss while not home.

Ripe Avocados: Yes, the availability (daily) of ripe avocados is a joy to me. I don't have to ask the kid in the produce section to please go fetch out of the garbage bin in the back the perfectly ripe black avocados he tossed out that morning.

Eggs: The yellow yolks are really, really yellow, and the eggs are so delicious. I remember being back in Canada and cracking an egg for breakfast and the dismay I felt at that pale yellow, sick looking egg yolk.

Flowers: Flowers in Canada are expensive, so they were a treat I rarely indulged in. At least once a week in Oaxaca I buy fresh flowers, dozens of roses for $2.00, Calla lilies, enough for two huge vases, for $3.00

Food that tastes like it ripened on the tree: The melons here do not taste like a shadow of themselves, their flavor is full and juicy and scrumptious. Ralph and I do not need to debate buying mangoes or peaches, because here they will actually taste like mangoes and peaches, not hard, tasteless blobs.

Markets: Fresh fruit and veg available any day of the week. I don't have to wait until my local (Toronto City Centre) farmer's market is open (from May to October) on Tuesday mornings between 8 and 12 to buy locally grown tomatoes. I have to walk through my alley, not 100 steps, to my local market. Sure, it is a bit more expensive than Abastos, or Tlacolula on Sundays, or Ocotlan on Fridays, but it is right up the street, every single day.

Crazy drivers: To be clear, the drivers here do not think they are crazy. Passing on double solid lines on a blind corner is not crazy, it is practical and keeps traffic moving. Driving in Oaxaca is not the sedate, point-and-push-the-gas experience one has back home, with frustration abounding during the 3 hour long rush hours morning and evening. Traffic is pretty well always bad here, and then you add the occasional protest and voila! excitement abounds!

Weather: I am sure I do not need to expand on this point. Sunshine. Blue skies. Rare humidity. Chilly evenings mean comfortable sleeps and sweaters if we want to have dinner on a patio.

The mountains: Not only the spectacular views they provide, but also their proximity to the city allows us, in a short drive, to go on hikes and enjoy nature.

The list goes on, but I thought this would give you a flavor of what I miss most when not at home, in Oaxaca.

This weekend in New York, I realized what I missed about living in a larger city in Canada or the U.S. Anonymity. I walked over a few blocks to go to hot yoga and I felt no different than the other 1000 people who passed me, going about their business. They were all dressed in their own style, lost in their own thoughts, on their phones, rushing or meandering, but whichever it was, I did not stand out. I was not taller. I was not specifically white. I am not usually confused for a tourist. I just went about my day to day, and for a few minutes, I really enjoyed that. Then I saw the state of the avocados in Trader Joe's, and started to miss home again.