Well, like I explained to ya’ll once before, I ain’t no drinkin’ man….no, no wait, that’s “God’s Own Drunk”. Let’s try again.

Well, we’re coming up on the end of our first month in Mexico. Thought we’d post some observations, musings, lessons learned, and just general random neuron firings.

I (I being g) would like to start by busting some myths.

Myth 1 – Mexico is a very violent country and you are going to get raped, murdered, and beheaded, not necessarily in that order. I’m almost tired of addressing this one. When we were planning this little junket, and we would tell people we were headed to Mexico, they be like “aren’t you afraid? – All the murders down there – you’re crazy.” OK – the crazy part – debatable, but not in the context of moving to Mexico. Sure, there is violence in Mexico. There is also violence in the U.S., Canada, the UK, Europe, and on and on. Most of the violence here is committed by gangs, and most of it is visited upon other rival gangs, and most of it has to do with the drug trade. Saying you won’t go to Mexico because there are lots of murders in Ciudad Juarez is like saying you won’t go to the U.S. because there are lots of murders in Detroit. We routinely are out after dark, coming from bars or restaurants, without Kevlar, and feel no more threatened than we did in Key Largo. If you use your head, you will probably get to keep it. Don’t fool with drugs, don’t hang out with dirtbags, and you run no more risk of violent crime than you do in Anytown USA.

Myth 2 – The Mexican police are corrupt and will stop you for no reason and force you to pay bribes. There’s some truth to this, although it’s somewhat dated. We have not been singled out by the police for anything, and it’s not like they can’t see us. We drive a car with a Florida tag on the back, a Conch Republic tag on the front, and a pony tailed white guy at the wheel. It ain’t like we blend. We see the police all the time – municipal, federal, and marinas. They seem to have zero interest in us. I do know some people who have been stopped and experienced “la mordita”. Thing is, in every case, they were in the wrong – speeding, California stop, whatever. So they go through the little dance and end up “paying the fine” on the spot so they don’t have to go to see the Commandante. The mordita is usually about 200 pesos (about 11 bucks) and they’re on their way. Is it morally right or wrong? To paraphrase Oscar Wilde – morality is the attitude we adopt towards people and things we personally dislike. In this case, you broke the law. Through the mordita, you pay a penalty for it, the cop augments his woefully inadequate salary, and, in a sense, does his job of discouraging bad driving habits. Are there corrupt cops who will put the squeeze on you for no reason? Yep, of course. No police department is corruption free. In that case, don’t pay the mordita. Insist on seeing the Commandante. The officer will probably save face and say he’s letting you off with a warning. Don’t sweat it.

Myth 3 – If you get sick there, even something minor, you will probably die because the doctors there are like Granny on the “Beverly Hillbillies” except they don’t understand what you are saying. The medical care here, from what we’ve seen so far, is excellent and economical. (See our post about Irene’s trip to the hospital here: https://ourexpatadventure.com/?p=75). Back in the U.S., the attitude is, “Your doctor will do what’s best for you”. Here, it’s, “See your doctor so you can make an informed decision and then do what’s best for yourself”. It’s a different world. Let’s say I’m in the U.S. and I get a sinus infection. It will, of course, be a weekend, because that’s how it always works out. So I have the option of suffering until Monday or going to an urgent care facility (doc in a box), where I will wait an hour to be seen for about 3 minutes, be told what I already know, and be given a prescription for an antibiotic. This will cost me about $110 since it’s the weekend, and then I go to the pharmacy where I will wait another 30 minutes for someone to type my name on a label and stick it on the bottle. Depending on how good my insurance is, I will pay from 9 to 45 dollars for the meds. In the same scenario here, I go to the farmacía and speak to the pharmacist or, in some cases, the physician on duty, who will, for free, recommend a course of medication. They give me a box of erythromycin, which is sold over the counter, I give them 55 pesos (about 3 bucks) and go home. A few hours later, I’m breathing easy again. Lots of prescription drugs are sold over the counter here. The fear that you won’t use them correctly without a prescription is countered by the printing of instructions on the package. You are expected to read and follow the directions. If you don’t and you don’t get better, well, what did you expect? Personal responsibility still exists here. You know those commercials you see on TV from lawyers offering to sue a drug company because you took their medicine and got one of the side effects the package insert warned you about? Non-existent. You were told the risks, you took the pills, sorry your ass fell off.

Myth 4 – Mexicans are lazy. Holy guacamole, is this one wrong. Seems everyone here works or hustles. We see construction guys out in the hundred-degree heat just goin’ at it. They work or they hustle. It may be street vendors with hats or sunglasses, or sidewalk arts and crafts. What I haven’t seen here yet is a panhandler. Closest thing is the kids who want to wash your windshield at the red light for a few pesos.

Myth 5 – Cinco de Mayo is Mexican Independence Day. No, it’s not. Independence Day is 16 September. Cinco de Mayo marks the anniversary of the Battle of Puebla in which Mexico defeated France. And, except in the Gringo bars, is for the most part, not celebrated in Mexico. (You know it’s a Gringo bar if they advertise a “Mexican Night”, and you’re in freakin’ Mexico!)

Some observations:

I watch people and try to figure out their stories. The ones who are not local, I lump into three (so far) categories: Tourists, Expats, and Fugitives. Tourists here are like tourists anywhere else. They come from the inland cities of Sonora, and even from up above the Rio Bravo. Some are here to sight-see, some to pacify a spouse, some to behave in ways they wouldn’t dare to at home. The latter are the ones you will see on the news complaining they got roughed up by the cops for nothing, nothing meaning throwing a Corona bottle through the hotel window and standing naked pissing in the pool when the cops showed up. There are OK ones and there are pains innee ass. They are what they are. Expats are generally looking for something missing in their lives; something they lost or maybe never found. They tend to be quiet, almost contemplative. They interact with the locals and speak, or at least try to speak, some Spanish. They travel mostly alone or in pairs. They eat local food and shop in the mercados. Fugitives come in different flavors. Snowbirds, here escaping the cold weather at home and migrating back in the spring fall into this category. There are economic fugitives, fleeing the high cost of living back home. There are emotional fugitives fleeing bad relationships and marriages. Some dwell with others inside walled developments (Gringolandia) where the only Mexicans are cooking, cleaning, or gardening. The only difference between here and a McMansion in Ft. Lauderdale is the price. Most actually think of themselves as expats. The difference being that Expats are looking for something, fugitives are running from something.

There is a dearth of government intrusion into your lives here. The feeling isn’t so much “is that legal?” – it’s more “it’s not illegal, so it must be OK”. For example, we met some expats in the parking lot at the mercado. They saw our U.S. tag and said hi. After we talked a bit, one guy told us he runs a biker bar on Saturdays out of a vacant building and gave us directions, – cheap drinks – come visit. So we went by on Saturday and, sure enough, there’s this empty building, for sale, and here’s our new friend running a biker bar. This isn’t clandestine, lots of black leather and silver studs, big ass bikes all around outside. (And the drinks were cheap. 20 peso beer, 25 peso mixed drinks.) The cops drive by, no interest. Just cold drinks and socializing. That’s the way it is. You don’t need to ask permission for things you should just be able to do. We frequently see guys on the road on horseback. If you want to ride a horse on the road you just go get one and hop on. You don’t need any special license or a helmet or a red triangle stapled to the horse’s ass, you just do it. Riding in the back of pickup trucks is still a very popular mode of transportation here. If you happen to fall out and splat your melon, well, you made the decision to hop in, now live (or die) with it. It feels good. It feels free. That’s not to say it’s lawless. There are things here they take very seriously. Drugs is one. Guns is another. Commit a crime with a gun here and they will either kill you in the process, our make you wish they had. Mexican prisons don’t pretend they will rehabilitate you. It’s about punishment for your crime, not turning you into something you never were to begin with.

So, we’ve been here a month. So far, we love Mexico. We’re not sure San Carlos is where we want to be yet. We leased a condo until the first of December. By then we will have experienced both off season and in season San Carlos and will make a decision about whether we want to stay here or head to Yucatan and Quintana Roo over on the Caribbean side. We may pop down into Belize and get a feel for that before we settle down. So, future expats, stay tuned, we’ll share what we learn. Keep the emails and questions coming, we’re glad to help.

Fair Winds,

g.