The Good, The Bad, and the Semi-Unattractive
By Don Adams © Don Adams 2003

Accordin' to at least one of my faithful readers I'm just way too damned happy about living in Mexico. I'm in the Lake Chapala area at present but I've lived in several areas over the years and I guess I might as well plead guilty to likin' 'em all and bein' reasonably content in each until my chronic wanderlust overwhelmed me or yet another romance went bad and I had to hightail it. Accordin' to my personal critic, (My ol' pard H.L. Mencken said "Criticism is prejudice made plausible.") committin' that attitude to paper and not tellin' about the "bad" stuff is not being honest with myself or with you. So this month let's all take off our spurs, squat down 'round the fire, have some frijoles and camp coffee and let 'er rip.

First off, it's all a matter of perspective and perception. A midget on stilts is still a midget even though he might fool the occasional dimwit. And as the Mexican dicho (proverb) supplied by my friend Judy King says, Cada uno habla de la feria segun le va en ella, Each one tells of the fair according to what he saw there.

Animals. Good Lord, if we cared about each other as much as some of us do about various and sundry animals you wouldn't ever be able to find anyone carryin' brass knuckles or a concealed .45. Now you all know that I love Pirata, the One-eyed Wonder Dog and Mona, Feline Mistress of All She Surveys, and that I'll occasionally show a bit of attention to a stray or misfit. That doesn't mean I'm blind to reality. The care and treatment of animals in Mexico is allegedly often shockin' to some newcomers. Move in a bit closer and I'll explain life to ya'. Birth, death and no guarantees for anything in between. Or after.

Some animals do get mistreated in Mexico. And Canada. And the United States. And France. And ever'where else you can name. Some animals also get treated very well in Mexico. And Canada. And the United States. And France. And ever'where else you can name. Just like the human condition, it's all in the luck of the draw. Bless alla ya'll that wanna do somethin' about the situation, but maybe you should think twice before you poor mouth Mexico like it's the only country in the world where you can find mistreated, diseased, free runnin' dogs that bark after dark or poop in the streets.

One of my favorite dog sightin's is when I catch one sittin' on a curb, feet on the street, butt on the sidewalk. Just like folks. I've even seen 'em back up to the sidewalk to take a poo. Some folks get real upset about that. Mama taught me not to step in it so I don't get the hives about it. And it does help keep those terrible streets clean. But then the horses and cows and burros do their bidness out there too. Big bidness.

I know some folks who get really upset about the Mexicans ridin' their animals in town or leavin' 'em hobbled or tied on the roads and sidewalks of the villages. Unless someone comes up with a doable solution that's about the way she's gonna stay. Those people actually need and use their animals. Many vaqueros or small stock farmers live in town. The wood cutters often live in town and keep their burros penned and housed close by. When you see cows or goats or sheep meanderin' through the streets and floppin' big brown piles out onto the roadbed keep in mind that the herder followin' along behind probably lives in town and has no pasture at home. They need to move those animals out to where the free grass grows and the only way to get from the casa to the grazin' area is often on the same streets you drive on. Most of us use the streets for convenience, those guys do it in order to eke out a livin'. How pleased can you be with yourself if you complain about someone actually workin' for a livin' instead of goin' on the dole like some of those slackers in our countries of origin? These folks don't have a choice, gotta work.

If you think that dung in the driveway might be more than you're prepared to deal with you might consider stayin' where you are.

Some think that roosters crowin' at all hours of the night should be outlawed. This ain't a chicken or the egg question---the roosters were here before we moved down. Get used to it.

One of my small pleasures is bein' able to appreciate the free-rangin' domestic animals along the lakeshore. Horses of all description graze and frolic, staid and steady cows plod through the short grass, followed by frisky calves, and the burros add just a hint of humor.

Some complain about the animals getting onto the roads down South. They do. Horses, goats, burros, sheep, cattle, even an occasional pig. Their owners take them out to graze on the free grass alongside the roads and they occasionally decide to cross over. Unlike the chicken's reasoning, we know why they do that. The grass is always greener… It's really your job to pay attention while you're wheelin' around down here as well as ever'where else. Drive friendly, y'all.

And one last item on this subject. I've talked with some Mexicans about their attitudes towards animals and found one reason for the lack of involvement some display. They say that the Catholic religion down here, maybe everywhere, teaches that animals have no souls. No soul, no guilt associated with indifference. Could be. Me? Everything has a soul. Everything is connected. Rocks, trees, Cocker Spaniels, even humans who act like animals. But that's just me.

If you wanna get things in perspective and see some real animal cruelty and abuse just tune in to the TV show Animal Precinct on the Animal Channel.

Another big problem for some newcomers is streets. And highways. Toll roads. Yeah, I'll admit that it is odd that I often pay good pesos, and many of 'em, to use the toll roads of Mexico when some few of 'em turn into two lane rutted death-dealers with no warnin'. On my last trip from Laredo to Ajjijc I paid 644 pesos for the privilege of usin' what's actually a pretty fair road system in most places. Add in the $5.00 US it cost me to get out of Texas and into Mexico. Trust me on this 'un, pay to use the cuotas, avoid the libres as much as you can and you'll be much happier. In some places the toll roads ain't as fancy as what I've driven on up in the U.S. but they're less expensive and not nearly as jammed up with those North of the border type horn tootin' road-ragers. And if you'll pay attention you might see that every time you make a border run you come across highway construction. They're tryin' folks, just be patient.

Actually I suppose "streets" might be a bit misleadin' when we're discussin' some of these little villages and smaller towns. Dirt and cobblestones tend to remind ya' more of country lanes, or maybe cow paths. Here's a wake up for ya'. Lotsa folks wanna live in a "Real Mexican Village" or a traditional city, or a unique little artist colony. Down here that means you'll more than likely be scootin' along on dirt or cobblestone by-ways. Narrow dirt or cobblestone by-ways. Some of the towns and cities have wide paved boulevards but they're usually not the romantic, exotic real Mexico some folks imagine. And leave that sporty little number or that big road yacht somewhere North of the border. Smaller SUVs are politically correct down here. And much more comfortable than bouncin' around in that Audi or Saab or slowin' down to creep across the topes in that big Lincoln.

Of course you'll probably use a bit more of the very high-priced Mexican gas than your neighbor with the old VW Beetle, but you'll be more comfortable. Gas is as high as a giraffe's ass but it's due entirely to the PEMEX Law of Supply and Demand. Down here PEMEX controls all the gas pumps in the country. That means they control the supply, and they demand that you pay what they decide is fair. The only way I know of to avoid the high prices is to either walk, take a cab, or ride the bus. Some down here become very unpopular with friends and acquaintances by repeatedly hitchin' rides and never offerin' to chip in on a fillup.

Since one of the other big complaints I hear is about trash I guess we might as well get on into that one. There's a lot of it out in public and a lot of strange behavior involved with how it got there. I've seen locals drive to within a quarter mile of the free local dump ground and unload their trash onto the side of the road. The lakeshore out by my house is strewn with all sorts of refuse, and the road leadin' to the lake is edged with tree limbs, leaves, and other debris from area yard work. Broken bottles are everywhere.

Keep in mind that some towns and villages don't provide trash pick-up services. My stuff is picked up once a week by an independent contractor, Margarito. The $10.00 a month that I pay him doesn't put a dent in my budget but my neighbor who sells flowers on the street to make a livin' probably prefers to buy food for her family with the 10 bucks she saves by disposin' of her garbage the best way she can. And we've recently introduced plastic, the artificial substance with a half-life roughly equal to the last ice age, into a society that for years used biodegradable natural materials for everything from wrappin' lunch to buildin' their homes. The fact that they're encounterin' difficulties in understandin' and adaptin' to modern "improvements" may be due in part to a lack of understandin' of the consequences of their actions. Texas spent years and millions of dollars to make "Don't Mess With Texas" a meaningful phrase. Mexico has neither the money nor the publicity delivery network at present to do something similar. If you're bothered by it, it's up to you to do somethin' about it.

Here at Lakeside a group of folks do that very thing. They provide trash bags for pick-up and snacks and drinks for volunteers, and lead all the kids who show up on a trash hunt. Ever'body wins; the town, the kids, those who work with them, and all the residents of the areas they clean. Much more productive than whinin' and moanin'.

Now a few folks think that the most horrible aspect of life in Mexico must be the creepy crawly and flyin' critters. Scorpions, bees, skeeters, big ol' ants, possums, coati mundis, flies, snakes. They're here. If you think you won't be able to cope with 'em you might try Ireland. Or Antarctica. Common sense, a few deadly chemicals (not my first recommendation), an alternative homemade natural pesticide like that prescribed by the ladies from ACA, window screens, a house cat, a watch dog, rub-on insect repellents, and semi-cleanliness will take care of most of your problem. There's even ways to reduce your scorpion exposure but they ain't 100% effective. And you don't even want to think about eliminatin' those pollinatin' bees. They, along with the hummin'birds provide a lot of entertainment and peace of mind when I'm relaxin' out in the jardin.

Relaxin'. Waitin'. Some folks get real uptight about the second one of these but if your head's on right they're about the same. Instead of complain' about havin' to wait, either look for an alternative or re-adjust your attitude. Go to the bank during their off-hours. You'll be able to figure 'em out pretty fast. Don't go shoppin' when and where ever'body else in the gringo community does. Use the small stores the Mexicans do. Let your maid pay your bills. You'll come up with lots of ways to avoid aggravations but they may be odd to outsiders.

On one of her visits my daughter Abby rode to the bank with me so I could hit the ATM. The one in Ajijic was down so we drove to Chapala. Ditto. Along the way I saw a few folks I wanted to spend a few minutes with, and remembered an errand or two left over from the week before, and stopped to check out several things that looked interestin', and finally decided to whip on over to Joco to see if their machine was up. As we wheeled on down the highway Abby turned to me and said "Dad, I don't see how you get anything done down here. You stop to visit with everyone you see, you shop for things you don't need, you drive from place to place to find machines that don't work…" My reply? "Yeah, ain't it great?" You're retired folks. It's time to relax! Talk to other waiters while you're standin' in the occasional line and you may just meet some interestin' characters. And don't even try to tell me you don't stand in lines up where you are now. I've been to Wal-Mart in several States. And the Post Office. And the bank.

This is all almost too depressin' but I have one more thing I need to cover before I tell y'all about who probably needs to stay out of Mexico. This won't take long.

Grocery prices. Sky high if you insist on buying foreign labels. Relatively inexpensive if you buy the Mexican counterparts. There's a reason for that. If a Mexican merchant imports food products, paper products, cleanin' products, et cetera, he must jump through a few bureaucratic hoops. First, he must purchase the products and take them to a warehouse he's rented. Then he must purchase and place on each container a label showin' what it is and that it's been cleared for import into Mexico. After that he must either transport the stuff himself, or get a contractor to bring the items to his store. And added to all these expenses; warehouse rental, import labels and the labor costs to attach them, plus transportation (remember the high priced gas?) he has a tax obligation in many cases. Like any other businessman he has to pass those costs on to the consumer.

Here's a solution for you. If you see two cans of Campbell's soup on the shelf, one with an English language label and one with a Spanish language label, check the prices to see if the Mexican product is less expensive. Or buy a local brand. Or as an alternative, make your own soup with the low-priced fresh vegetables you can buy from local merchants. Use your brain instead of your mouth and you'll be happier as well as savin' money. See how easy this all is?

If cost is a major consideration to ya' there's always the local markets that your neighbors use. Fresh fruits and vegetables can be had for a pittance, and your nearby abarrote will stock a good variety of canned goods and such.

There are other aspects of life here that seem to torment a few, but most of us of at least average intelligence and fairly normal emotional and psychological stability manage to overlook or cope with what some others see as major problems. I talked with a few friends and acquaintances before I wrote this so I could get some idea of how folks who love it here perceive the situation. Here's a brief list of things we all agree might limit your ability to truly appreciate our adopted home:

Of course if you ticked off more than one or two items on this list as your own personal inadequacies you're probably pretty miserable regardless of where you are.

And what traits do those of us who live here and love it share? Here are a few:

This doesn't mean we're saints or that we're to be admired or even tolerated by newcomers or even each other, or that each of us possesses all of these traits and qualities. Some down here are mean as damn snakes and rude as a fart at the dinner table, just like ever'where else. But those who are truly content with their lives look at many of the day to day differences as minor inconveniences to be dealt with rather than major problems to be overwhelmed by. Some of the differences are precious gifts to be cherished and protected and shared.

There's a whole litany of whines I haven't even touched on yet; dogs in restaurants, problems caused by fellow expatriates, corruption in the government, drinkin' water, unavailability of some newer medications, fear for personal safety, wild drivers, extortionist cops, yadda, yadda, yadda. If ya' ain't happy where ya' are, Mexico ain't gonna cure ya'. As my friend Blue says, "It's an inside job."

I reckon if you really wanted to you could find somethin' in Heaven to complain about but right now let's spur up, toss the last of the coffee on the fire, scatter the ashes, tighten our cinches, and move on. There's a lot of Mexico I ain't enjoyed yet and I'm anxious to get on about it. You're welcome to ride along, but if a bunch of this bothered ya' maybe you need to cut a different trail. North is thataway.