Mexicano vs Mexicano

Miguel has a friend-foe relationship with his master bricklayer. Jorge was in the military service with Miguel and they have known each other for most of their adult lives. Jorge's wife is the sister of Miguel's cousin's wife, so that makes him 'family'. Miguel and Jorge are friends, and at times have been drinking buddies (too many times, might I add).

Jorge was the one who was there when Miguel was blown down the staircase after touching 16,000 plus volts of electricity. Jorge was the one to slap Miguel on the face to get him breathing again. Miguel may owe his life to Jorge.

One thing I've noticed among men in general, but especially amongst Mexican men, is how they can have an all-out disagreement or confrontation but then remain friends. They seem quite able to separate work issues from personal issues.

Jorge has done a ton of concrete work here at my house, starting about 6 years ago. Miguel has always overseen the work; until the last couple of years the projects were rather small as we had other bricklayers doing the major projects here (Jorge was busy with other work).

A couple of years ago Jorge did a big project here - he built the overhang on the second-level terrace. Other than a design 'feature' I'd rather was a little different (but I wasn't here to provide input at the time), it turned out very well. Miguel praised Jorge for his artistic work.

Last year we had to put a railing on the staircase. Originally I wanted wood, but the guy who came gave us a ridiculously low quote, and of course, never showed up. So Miguel turned to Jorge, and the railing is a one-of-a-kind work of art - constructed out of wood and concrete. It wasn't quite what I had in mind but I can be flexible - it has grown on me. One thing for sure, it will never break.

Jorge was great until he got to the end of the project, and then he lost interest or got busy with a new project (Capi's Apartment) and Miguel had to harass him to come back and finish the small details. Miguel vowed he was done with Jorge.

Miguel had another bricklayer do the foundation of Capi's Apartment, but he got mad when the master bricklayer left the site and left his 'helper' to do some of the detailed work that he wasn't very good at, resulting in crooked doorways and walls. So Luis got fired and Jorge got hired to finish the work and install all the ceramic tiles at Capi's. About that time Miguel had his accident, so Jorge was left to finish on his own time - and he did take his time until Miguel (finally released from hospital) got mad and told him to get it done.

Various small projects over at Casa Miguel were given to Jorge. But then one of the projects got stalled when Jorge got busy with another project and Miguel never knew when he was coming. And when he did come, if he left for any reason (food, supplies), it was questionable if he would come back that day. Miguel had to be at the site the entire time to keep Jorge under control.

It got so bad that Miguel got tired of waiting for Jorge and hired some other bricklayers. He was done with Jorge and his shenanigans. Since the work was 'rustic', not 'fino', it worked out.

Then it was time to build the Luna Studio, on the third-floor above Capi's Apartment. Miguel continued with the same workers as they were less expensive than Jorge and he was satisfied with their work.

By now times were really tough on the island and Jorge was looking for work. He stopped by and saw other people working at Miguel's and was not pleased. Why didn't Miguel want to give him the work, he wanted to know?

Eventually the guys doing the work didn't bother to show up and Jorge got his opening. He has built the rest of the studio, poured the roof, and put the fine layer of concrete on the walls. He has worked hard, sometimes wanting to work on Sundays (despite Miguel asking him not to) in order to keep things moving (and cash flowing into his pocket). Miguel has been pleased with how well Jorge has worked.

Now we are at the stage of installing the tiles - the final push where each day is critical to finishing on time. And Jorge went MIA for Monday and Tuesday. Miguel entered his 'foe' phase again with Jorge. "If he doesn't want the work there are lots of others who do. It won't be the same quality as Jorge, but it will be good enough."

So yesterday morning Miguel toured around and found Jorge at the site where he was planning to install a base for an electric meter. And he let him have it. "What's the matter? Do I pay you with rocks or with money? I have reservations pending", and a few other choice phrases.

He said that he didn't even finish all he was saying when Jorge said "I'm going, I'm going", and hopped on his moped and Zoom! off he went over to Casa Miguel. Miguel was chuckling as he told me the story - Miguel's stories always make me laugh because he adds sound effects and lots of animation.

Yesterday Miguel came home for dinner and reported that Jorge was working very 'strong'. The bathroom tiling finally got finished and grouted, and now Jorge is scratching his head (Miguel's words) figuring out how he is going to put the kitchen tiles together. I know it will look great when he's done, Jorge's work is very good.

So Miguel will be tied up 'baby-sitting' and making sure Jorge doesn't 'escape' and all will be done in good time. And Jorge and Miguel can once again be friends.

On the Corner

This morning we discussed that we would eat Mexican-style eggs (huevos a la Mexicana). As usual, Miguel went to the market to pick up what we would need for today. On the list was tortillas.

He arrived back home with two bags loaded with fruit. But no tortillas.

That's ok - I said I would just walk down to the corner of our street and wave down a passing beep-beep bicycle vendor with a cooler of hot tortillas.

I got to the corner and listened. Silence. No beep-beep. Darn - I would have to stand and wait.

While lingering on the corner, our neighborhood beat patrol cop (also a local business owner), arrived for work on his moped. He parked on the corner opposite from where I was standing, and after the "Buenos Dias" greeting, I told him that I was there waiting for tortillas.

The cop told me that he would be bringing our furniture order over tomorrow, they were just applying the varnish today. "Ok, muy bien, gracias", I said.

There still wasn't a beep-beep sound anywhere, so I decided to walk up to my neighbor's house and feed her cats. It was a little earlier than usual, but with other things on our agenda today, it would be good to get that out of the way.

As I walked towards their block, the stray white cat that mooches food from me had jumped through the gate and was heading north. As I continued walking towards the house, a block away from the cat, he suddenly turned around and looked at me. All the cats seem to know my footsteps, they are at the gate before I get there because they've heard me coming. And this white cat knew it was me too.

Ah ha! I could hear him thinking. Here's breafast! He turned right around and walked towards the gate. Although I cannot touch this cat, he is responding to me by meowing to let me know he is hungry - something he did not do the last time I took care of the cats in the spring. He is not a pretty cat at all - part Himalayan and part Siamese, with a wicked overbite. He is not nearly as scrawny as he was a few months ago when I thought he was starving. He has learned where to stake his claim when I put down the piles of food, so he's well-fed now.

The orange cat with the crooked head (some sort of muscle disorder), is always there to greet me. He is the resident cat and almost never leaves the property. Unlike the grey cat, who seems to live at my neighbor's house but can often be seen outside the property. This morning the grey cat was not around - I think it was because it was earlier than usual and he was caught off-guard.

With the cats fed I headed back to my corner. Still no sound of beep-beep tortillas. The cop was getting ready to start his rounds, and as he headed up the road, he told me that if he came across the tortilla guy he would tell him I was there waiting.

The cop got as far as a block away when we both heard the beep-beep. He called back to me just as I called to him - "tortillas. I saw him tell the guy that I was waiting, and so arrived a nice hot package of tortillas, placed into my hands.

I walked back home and arrived to the smell of sauteed onions and garlic - the start of the huevos a la Mexicana. Mmmmm...breakfast was good today!

The Art of Cat Catching

I am trying to catch two cats at the moment.

The first is a kitten down the road that has been crying for a couple of days. Miguel told me about it on Sunday and tried to catch it, but it ran off into the bushes. Last night I heard it crying so went out and tried to locate it. It seemed to be in the long grass across the street from my neighbor.

I filled a tin with some dry cat food and walked over to the area where I thought the kitten was hiding. As I gently called to it, it cried, but then the dogs at the workshop came around and the kitten stopped crying. I wanted to just toss the food into the grass and hope it would find it, but I knew the dogs would just eat it. So I left.

Later I was walking down the road to the store and heard the kitten again - crying in the bushes across the road from the workshop. I stopped to try to coax it out and it kept answering me back, but it was dark and I couldn't see anything.

The young guy that lives at the workshop (and loves animals) came over and put down a handful of dog food. He said he'd caught the kitten earlier but he couldn't hold onto it. I told him if he catches it again to come to our house - we have a cage and will take it to the vet. "Defino?", he asked. Yes, Delfino - he will take care of the kitten (because I am NOT adopting another kitten, right?!).

I went back to the house and got the tin of cat food and went back to try to get the kitten to come out. Two other guys that hang out at the shop came over, and the one with shoes told the one without shoes to get in there and get the kitten (they could see it in the dark - I couldn't). The guy with the barefeet went as far as he could but he was stepping on rocks and finally told the other guy, with the shoes, to get the cat. The guy took one leap into the grassy area and the kitten took off (according to them, because I never did see the kitten).

So I threw the cat food in the general direction and hoped the kitten would come back and find it. I went to the store, but on the way back I heard a scuffle in the plants where I'd thrown the food, so I think the kitten was there and finally eating. I didn't hear any more crying last evening, we'll see what today brings.

The other cat I'm trying to catch is a neighbor's cat. They are away until January and I have been feeding her two cats, along with two other strays that show up whenever they aren't there. On Sunday I noticed that the grey cat looked like he wanted to eat but then he just laid down. Something about the way he held his mouth made me think he either had a sore throat or something caught in there. He had been in another fight as he had a sore on the side of his neck. I decided to see how he looked on Monday.

Yesterday morning I went over and the grey cat still didn't eat the dry food I put down. Hmmm...I decided to call Delfino to take a look. The only problem was that although I could handle the cat, I couldn't get it into the opening of the cage I took over. It's a big cat and a small cage, and an unwilling participant.

While I waited for Delfino I decided to see if the cat could eat some canned food, so I went home and got a can and took it over. Yup, the cat gobbled down the food, it was terribly hungry. However, as it ate it occasionally stopped with a jerk and pawed at its throat/mouth area. I was sure it had something caught in there.

Of course the other cats hanging around wanted some of the canned food too, so I gave them a taste. I made a mess of the tiles around the yard with dumping food everywhere, as none of the cats are friends so they all have their own eating spaces.

I decided that maybe I could confine the cat if I took the top off the cage, put the cat inside, and then quickly placed the lid over it. I succeeded in doing that much, but as I tried to get the lid lined up so I could latch it, the cat started pushing and prying and sticking its paws through all the gaps. I fought with it for a few minutes but then it broke loose and the battle was lost. And now I'd lost the confidence of the cat.

I sat on the golf cart to wait for Delfino. The cat smelled the can of food and came over and tried to get at the food. I decided to use the food as a lure to keep the cat from jumping out through the fence. As the cat was eating from the can on the floor of the golf cart, Delfino showed up. And of course the cat took off, into the garden. But as he sat there Delfino saw him make the motion at his throat, so immediately agreed that something was caught.

But - to examine the cat, it needed anesthesia, and it couldn't have anesthesia with a full stomach. Delfino went back to the clinic to get a couple of traps - one for one of the other three cats that we were sure would go in to get the food, and one for the grey cat (we hoped).

By now the grey cat had caught on that something was up, and just as the trap was placed, he jumped through the gate and out into the street. One of the other strays went with him, sensing the bad vibes. I tried to be casual and just walk up to the grey cat to catch it, but it knew what I had in mind and stayed just out of reach. It went under Delfino's van, and he cleverly started the engine to get the cat out. As the cat walked up the other side of the walk, I walked along on the road. The cat increased its pace, and so did I. Then I ran to block it from the front, but just as I did that, a loud backfire scared all of us and the grey cat jumped up on a high wall and over to some apartments. Delfino and I threw up our hands at the unlucky timing of that backfire. There was nothing more we could do at the moment.

So I was left to sit on the golf cart and hope the cat would come back. I sat there almost an hour. The only cat that went near the trap was the other tame cat, but I was finally able to distract him to come and sit with me on the cart. One of the other strays came back but showed no interest in the trap - he went to sleep on a small table on the patio. If we catch him he is going to be neutered - I don't know if he has an owner or not, but I've been feeding him so I'm going to take matters into my own hands and take care of his reproductive capabilities if we catch him.

I eventually gave up waiting for the grey cat to come back and went home. I checked the traps all afternoon - very diligently as one of our own cats died in one of those traps (he went in while the trap was in full sun and died of heatstroke - a trauma that will haunt me forever). The two traps were in full shade with a nice breeze, but I am still nervous about trapping cats.

By 4 pm there was no sign of the grey cat and no sign of any cat having any interest in going near the traps. So I took out the food and closed up the traps for the day. In an hour or so I'll go back over and see if the grey cat is back. I am hoping it gets better all by itself, as I really have better things to do than walk around my neighborhood trying to catch cats that don't want to be caught.

**Update: the grey cat seems fine today! Eating dry food. I took over a can of tuna so after I knew he was eating dry, I opened the tuna and the three cats there at the time were in heaven. I walked home with the open can and Smokey was at the front door waiting for me. Luna, who'd been sound asleep on the couch woke up quickly, and Minina and Maya were standing at the back door waiting for me. I guess the smell of tuna really carries. So everyone had a feast, and I'm done trying to catch cats (unless the kitten reappears). On to other projects...

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This woman, Josefina is an absolute saint and a miracle-worker for cats here on the island. In fact, there are quite a few people here who dedicate time and money to care for the cats and dogs here. One day I will write a blog to honor the island heroes.

What have they been up to lately? - part 1, Maya

Time to check in with the residents here at Casa Susana - the furry ones (excluding Miguel)...

Today will be Maya's turn.

The 'cooler' weather has turned Maya back into a couch potato rather than a floor potato. Maya has lots of thick fur, so I think the very hot summer months took their toll on her - all she wanted to do inside the house was lie on the floor where she could catch a floor breeze.

What is a floor breeze? It's the gust of wind that comes under the doors because the doors don't quite fit properly and there is no weather-stripping. In the winter months when we have stronger winds, the floor breeze actually rises and becomes a room breeze.

During the summer months, Maya's favorite place to lay was on the floor at Miguel's feet, where Loco also likes to lay. It is about 6 feet from the front door, and in the direct line of the floor breeze.

Now that it's cooler Maya is reclaiming the little red fleece blanket in the corner of the sectional couch. She has to share that space with Miguel's feet, and occasionally she grabs hold of his feet and gives them a little chomp.

Maya likes to sleep on her back, with her paws folded over her chest. She is an alert cat, so any noise causes her to lift her head and look around. The rest of her body is still reclined, she looks quite comical (sorry, no photo - the camera isn't here, but one day I will get a picture of this pose). Sometimes she'll sit up on her hind legs, like a prairie dog, with her front paws hanging at her sides, and her head turning this way and that in order to see what is going on. There must be some meerkat genes in her DNA makeup.

Maya is much bigger and heavier than any of the other cats, which automatically gives her power in the pecking order. Maya likes to play with Smokey, they chase each other around and play hide-and-seek. Sometimes Maya plays too rough and grabs Smokey by the scruff of her neck, causing Smokey to cry and roll around to get away.

Maya occasionally tries to play with Minina and Luna. Minina is scared of Maya because Maya usually attacks her and hurts her, so Minina is inclined to cry with the slightest touch and run off. Luna just plain doesn't like any other cats, but occasionally she will show a bit of inclination to play, although it doesn't last long.

Maya reminds me of a dominatrix, as she expects to be greeted by the other cats when she enters the room. She will approach either Minina or Smokey and stand there while they lick her head, or sniff her body. Once they have bowed to her power, she walks away. Although I can't understand cat behavior like a cat would, if I put a human interpretation on it, she was showing the other girls in the clan who is boss, and they in turn, showed submission to the supreme queen. So although Maya is the second youngest, she is the alpha cat if we don't include Luna.

With the return of the cooler weather Maya has also reverted to her baby behavior of kneading the pillow behind me as she buries her head into the crook of my arm. It has to be my right arm, apparently my left arm doesn't smell the same. When Maya was a baby it was easy to cradle her as she snuggled, but now she is the size of a turkey and is a heavyweight on my stomach - I lay her beside me when she wants to do her kneading thing.

Maya has some strange sleeping preferences. She loves to sleep on the small bar at the top of the second-level stairs, hanging her head over the edge to see what is going on below. Sometimes she sleeps in the bathroom sink, or the sink out on the back terrace. She loves to play with toes when we're in the tub - she has no fear of water and likes to go toe-fishing.

Maya, despite her size, has a sweet little voice. It's deceiving, she sounds innnocent, yet she can be mean towards the other cats when she wants to be.

I think Smokey has been good for Maya, because now that she has someone to play with, she has lost some weight and seems more active. Maya also plays with Loco - Maya is really the only cat that Loco will allow to snuggle with him. When we are eating breakfast, Loco will be under our stools, and Maya will be right there beside him. Both of them cuddle on the floor, and at the moment Loco is on the bench looking out the front window, and Maya has gone over to lie with him. Loco showed extreme interest in Maya from the day we found her across the road, and she has been his special cat ever since.

Maya doesn't strike me as one of the brighter cats, in fact sometimes when she's lying out on the back terrace and all the others have scooted in, she just sits and looks at me as if to say "is there something I need to know about?". But she has learned a bad trick from watching Luna, so she's not that dumb. Luna picks at the screen window in the kitchen when she wants in, and now Maya is doing the same. Maya used to jump and hang off the back screen door, but Miguel fixed that by putting a piece of screen sheet metal behind the actual screen, so there is nothing to hold onto. So now she resorts to the kitchen screen.

Maya was slow to learn about catching bugs and lizards, but now she's the one who gets them first. She's fast, and once she has something in her mouth, nothing you do will get it out. Since I can't bear to see anything suffer, I have to leave the scene of the crime and let nature take its course.

A few months ago Maya developed a passion for tomatoes, and would take them every chance she got. We got smart and put them in the microwave, and after several months I thought Maya had forgotten about tomatoes. But the other day I went to the store and bought two tomatoes. I placed them near the sink, ready to be washed, and went into the living room for something. I was gone about 2 minutes, but when I got back, there was one of my tomatoes lying half-eaten on the floor. Maya has a nose for tomatoes, obviously - she was on it in a flash. I'm not sure Maya would rather have a tomato over canned cat food, but I bet the tomato is a close second.

Oh No! Feet!!

Yesterday I asked Miguel to pick up a chicken at the market. A whole chicken already cut in pieces so I could make pollo adobo a la Sue.

After preparing the adobo marinade, I dumped the bag of chicken pieces into the sink. There, right on top, was a chicken foot.

When I first started buying chicken at the market, it was hard standing there looking at all those dead birds with their blank eyes staring into nowhere. Somehow that makes them a little too vulnerable, and I feel bad for perpetuating the exploitation of the chicken because I am buying it in order to eat it.

I wish I could be vegetarian. Miguel suffers the same pangs of regret, so I wouldn't be surprised if one day we just bite the bullet and stop eating animals. If we gradually reduce our consumption, then hopefully we'll get there.

In the meantime, when I buy the chicken, I always tell the butcher I don't want the head or the feet. Sometimes I forget because as I'm standing there waiting for him to cut up the chicken, I get distracted by little scuffles between dogs, or other people milling around. I'll turn back just in time to see the butcher clipping the toenails, with which I'll say "No pies, por favor" (pie means foot - pronounced "pee-eh"). The butcher tosses the feet into a container on the floor, or into the mouth of a waiting stray dog (which is why they scuffle, sometimes).

So I purchase headless and footless chickens, and I thought Miguel knew that. But yesterday the foot was there right on top. Gross - I don't even want to touch it, it feels weird. So I used a piece of the plastic bag to lift the foot over to the other side of the sink.

Then I went fishing amongst the chicken pieces for the other foot, and as I was doing that, I was saying out loud, "Please don't let there be a head in here". The feet are bad enough, but the head? Unnerving...

I found the other foot, and laid them both in the other side of the sink while I skinned and washed the other chicken pieces. The good pieces will be used to make pollo adobo, the other pieces will be used to make soup.

The ironic thing is...chicken soup here is often made using the feet of the chicken. I know that, and I try not to think about it, because I love the chicken soup here, especially the soup that Miguel's daughter makes, or the soup from La Familia Tomasa.

Miguel came home just as I was cleaning up. I asked him if he wanted to take the feet to his daughter so she could make soup. He just laughed and said to leave them here. Apparently it is offensive to offer someone the feet of the chicken without offering them the good parts too. It is like giving someone your leftovers instead of the nice meal you originally prepared; it is perceived as discrimination. How would I know that?

So I put the feet on a plate and walked across the street and threw them far into the bushes. Hopefully the stray animal that comes across them will think they've come upon a feast. And hopefully my footless soup will be tasty anyway.

And I never did find the head. Miguel did good.

I must say this...

Having to reformat and reinstall programs no less than 3 times in the last 2 weeks has turned me into a lean user. With this last install I'm not bothering with anything other than the basics until I find out if it is stable or not.

Have I mentioned how fed up I am with computer problems? I have wasted more time in the last three weeks, it's a good thing I don't have a job to worry about. I finally withdrew from my online courses because I have not been able to spend the time doing the research or the assignments, and to try to cram it all in during these last two weeks would maybe get me the 'pass' but I would not feel like I learned anything, and that is the point of the courses, afterall. I am doing this for my own personal growth, so have abandoned the classes and will pick them up next year when things are settled (hopefully that WILL happen!).

This is my last shot at trying to use this laptop though, if this one corrupts the drive then I'm done - I'll ship the machine out for repair (assuming Dell will agree it is a hardware issue) and that will be that.

However, there is an 'up' side. I've learned some new things about restoring backup data. And I've been playing with IE 8 and Google Chrome and have discovered some nice features that provide eye candy (i.e., themes for my email).

I had been mapping both gmail accounts to Outlook so I could just have one program open and see all my email. But I got tired of deleting multiple instances of the same email, or marking it as 'read'. And I really got tired trying to reinstall the setup with each new install on my laptop.

I am surprised at how little I like Outlook other than for its calendar feature. I could not find an easy way to add an email user to my contact list. And I could not find a way to force email to look to my contact list to generate a new message. I poked around with settings and options but couldn't find anything that seemed like it would work. Something seems disconnected there, maybe it was me.

I did like that I could create multiple calendars and use different colors - easy to see the vacancies for the rental properties at a glance. But that alone will not make me go back to Outlook. So for now, adios!

And so I discovered Google Chrome, and found out that I can have one gmail account open there and a different one in IE. So I can easily see my emails at the same time anyway. And gmail is really easy to manage, and I like that it keeps the conversations together so I'm not wading through lists of emails looking for something I sent to someone.

I played with the Google calendar yesterday, and found out that I can put some code into an html page and provide calendar access to a potential guest so they can see open time. Most guests know when they're coming so I just tell them if we can accommodate or not, but a few guests have not booked flights, they are waiting to find accommodations first. It's nice that I will be able to give them the link to the calendar and they can see for themselves when we would be able to host them at the apartments.

Speaking of reservations, they have been coming in fast and furious. I think Isla Mujeres is in for a good tourist season if our reservations and requests are any indication. That gives me hope, because the US economy is still not looking good from my point of view and I think there is more bad news to come. It's scary, but if the island can attract tourists who can afford a vacation, then there is hope for the locals here who have been living day-to-day. I'm really not sure how some of them have been managing but Mexicans are incredibly resourceful and resilient, they're hanging on somehow. Let's hope 2010 brings relief to Mexico, and the world.

Noisy days

Our colonia is usually pretty quiet, but over the last few days it has been unusually noisy. The family that lives next door is very quiet - we rarely hear anything coming from their direction. But several times now the woman, a quiet-spoken teacher, has been out in front and talking at the top of her lungs to another neighbor. One morning it was at 6:30 am. We were up (we are usually up around 6), sitting on the couch enjoying our morning coffee when she let loose. We just looked at each other because it was such a surprise to hear her speak so loudly.

Our neighbor has one daughter - a sweet polite girl. Next to them live some cousins - a more rambunctious couple of kids. When they first started playing together we rarely heard the girl next door - playing loudly wasn't her style. But now, all the kids are into their game, and they shout and just talk loud, as if everyone around them is deaf. Thankfully they are usually in school, but after school, if the weather is nice, they play. Often their games involve a ball, which invariably finds its way into our front garden. Usually when one or both of us is enjoying an after-dinner siesta. They stand outside the front gate and bellow my name, over and over. Hard to ignore them (although sometimes I do if I'm really into my siesta). Once I got a charge out of hearing them finally give up - "No esta" (she's not there). Oh yes I was...but I just wasn't going to answer the door!

Last evening the guys working at the shop on the other side of the kids' house decided to kick a soccer ball around. They placed rocks in the road as their goal posts, and had a roaring match of soccer going - right in front of our house, where the street lamp gives them light, and the road is flat.

As young men can be inclined to do, they shouted rude comments to each other - comments even I understood and did not appreciate, especially knowing young children live right here. I couldn't wait for Miguel to come home and park the golf cart right in the middle of their playing field. I reported the horking and rude language, noting that I was glad to see them playing and having fun rather than doing something bad, but didn't really like the disgusting part. Nothing we could do of course - they are good guys, just immature and needing to show each other up. They stopped their game shortly after Miguel got home, so that was that.

Someone nearby has been setting off the odd firework. Just enough to unnerve Loco. The other night he was just finishing his meal out on the front terrace when one went off. Loco stuck his paw on the front screen door and pulled it open - something he usually can't do unless he's desperate.

Yesterday afternoon I was upstairs when I heard a firework go off. Loco had been on the front terrace but soon he slunk upstairs and crawled under the bed where nothing can get him. And yup, he opened the front screen door again.

This morning Loco decided to take off, and even though Miguel whistled for him, he didn't come back. So Miguel took off down towards the lagoon looking for him. He'd heard some dogs making a fuss and figured Loco was part of the action. He finally found Loco and all he had to do was raise his arm as if to swat him and Loco shrieked like a girl and took off at full speed back home.

I was in the kitchen when Loco came tearing through and went straight up the stairs, saliva hanging from his mouth. Under the bed, safe from the wrath of Miguel. And yes, he opened the screen door again to let himself in. Amazing what a little fear can do to enable one to accomplish something. You'd think we normally beat the dog or something judging from Loco's fear of us.

So the neighborhood is a little flaky lately - not sure why, maybe the passing hurricane IDA dropped some weird spell over the island. Personally, I look forward to getting back to normal (whatever that is).

Yes! We have a Visa!!

Last week I spent two days putting the final paperwork together for Miguel's visa. I say 'final' because we've been gathering paperwork since late August. And somehow we (you know who I really mean, right?) lost everything I'd printed and had to start over. Let's just say my mood during those two days was a little 'touchy'.

The final push wasn't easy. Miguel has 8 brothers and sisters and they wanted to know their names and birthdates, where they live, and what they do for a living. He was able to call his sister and get the birthdates of his parents and two siblings - the rest we had to leave blank. That, along with some other paperwork requirements that he wasn't able to provide as requested (most Mexicans wouldn't be able to either), led us to believe the visa would not be approved...despite the fact that Miguel has been to Canada 3 times already (and always came back to Isla).

We did have proof from the police that he was a fine upstanding citizen. Well, that may be exaggerating, we had a letter stating that he is not in trouble with the law. And I wrote a letter explaining why we wanted to go to Canada, and talked about the other trips Miguel has made, as well as our trip to Norway (to prove that we had a relationship prior to the visa requirement).

All in all, we put together the best possible package we could and were resigned to accept whatever decision was made.

The processing time is stated as an average of 10 business days. They received the package last Thursday. I tracked the return number this week, and yesterday it showed up - the package was on its way back to us already.

Hmmm...that seemed too fast. Must mean it was incomplete, or I screwed up the certified check from the Mexican bank (they state they will return everything unprocessed if the check is incorrect), or he was simply denied.

Last night the tracking number showed that the package was in Cancun waiting for pickup. So...off we went early this morning. DHL was our first stop.

We couldn't wait to tear open the envelope once we were in the cab. Right on top, open on the visa page, was Miguel's passport.

Hurray! We are going to Canada! And Bennie and Stefan will be babysitting! Win-win all round!

P.S. To the Canadian government...
I still don't think imposing a visa on Mexicans was a smart thing to do, and neither do other Canadians in power, apparently. According to the Mexican news, there was a lively debate in parliament the other day, and the Canadians themselves called it a stupid policy. As Miguel kindly stated - Mexico would never say that to Canada (but we sure can think it).

And to whomever processed Miguel's visa, I want to thank you. Thank you for understanding why the paperwork was completed as it was, and why some of the things requested were very difficult to provide as requested. Mostly, thank you for believing what I wrote, explaining the situation when applications and forms could not. I told the truth, and I am thankful that you believed me and didn't try to pull a power trip as many in your position might. You are obviously a person who can see beyond the paperwork, and maybe you understand something about the lives of the average Mexican. You have made us happy today. Thank you!

Cancun Sunday

On Sunday we went to Cancun and enjoyed a nice day at the movies and shopping for apartment supplies for the new studio apartment. The Chedraui at Plaza Las Americas has the best selection of 'stuff' compared to Walmart, Sorianna, and other Chedraui stores.

The theater was very modern. I had reserved our tickets online and was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to pick them up and pay - I expected some sort of paper deal, they love filling out forms here - by hand. But everything was done by computer and in just a couple of minutes we had our tickets and were off to the next stage of movie-going...the snacks.

We bought our popcorn and drinks, and went inside to get good seats. Not that we needed to worry - there might have been 5 others in there when we arrived, and by the time the show started, maybe 20.

Seated right behind us was a family with two very small children. The show, "This is It", is not a show for kids, but there they were, running around and laughing and talking and just being kids. I was thinking we'd have to move but once the show started, either they fell asleep or they were just well-behaved. Miguel and I disrupted the show more than anyone, as the coke we drank went right to our bladders, and we had to get up in the middle of the show and take care of that issue.

The seats in the theatre were so comfortable - they actually reclined and both of us dozed off a bit while we waited for the show to start. Sure beats the position we have to adopt to doze off on the ferry - sitting upright with our heads bobbing forward.

After the show we got a bite to eat at Mama Roma's. I filled up on bread dipped in garlic oil, bruschetta bread, and soup. Miguel ordered fish with mashed potatoes. Then we headed over to Chedraui to see what they had to offer. Along with some other stuff, I found a chair for my desk that will hopefully mean no more sore, twisted back and neck muscles from sitting sideways on the couch.

We were first in the local's line at the Ultramar ferry. Suddenly a small man appeared directly behind us - he had shoved his way through the people congregated behind us and was standing pretty close to us. He was only wearing jeans and a muscle shirt - no shoes.

I wasn't paying much attention but I heard Miguel say to him "Chiapas", and then the guy responded something, and it seemed like Miguel was telling him it wasn't correct to cut the line like that. The guy seemingly paid no attention but when I turned around a couple of minutes later, the guy was gone.

Several minutes later, after the ferry had just finished unloading, the guy came from the other side of the dock and went under the ropes and walked right up the ramp and onto the ferry. Miguel and I just looked at each other and chuckled - the "Chiapas" guy was determined to be first to board.

However, just as we handed in our tickets and were ready to board, the "Chiapas" guy was escorted back off the boat by a couple of guys working there. The guy was trying to brush them off, but they weren't letting him go. It was now clear he was drunk. He was begging them to let him go on the ferry, but they just kept telling him that he was not going.

We figured out that the guy had hoped to slip past the ticket-taker when we handed in our tickets. He was small enough that he might have succeeded but for some reason he changed his tactics and decided to try to slip on unnoticed before anyone else boarded. This was his downfall. He had probably drunk all his ticket money and had no way to get back to the island.

So we took off with the image of the drunk in the hands of the Ultramar crew, wondering how it would all end for him. And I wonder how often the crew of the ferry are expected to act as bouncers for undesirable passengers. Probably more than we realize.

Why I'm glad I'm not bald

I have a big lump on the back of my head. It's my fridge's fault. I was stooping down to get some fruit out of the bottom drawer, and when I stood up, I whacked the back of my head on the corner of the freezer handle. Wow - that hurt. I actually cried!

And I wanted to beat the fridge. It has whacked me before, and I'm tired of it.

The golf cart hits me now and then too, especially if I go to step into it off a curb. Whack, right in the front of my head, where my bangs sprout from. Sometimes I see stars.

And that's not all, the golf cart is so rude it attacks our guests too. Several have felt the pain as they tried to raise themselves up onto the back seat. We always warn them (well, sometimes we warn them AFTER they've been whacked).

I used to have a cupboard in my laundry room, right over my washing machine. I hit my head so often on the corner of that cupboard that I had Miguel install a thick strip of weather stripping all around the edge. At least when I got hit after that, there was plenty of padding and it didn't draw blood.

I think I'm lucky to have a full head of hair. The hair serves as a cushion when I get hit. With all the blows I've taken to the head, imagine how my scalp would look if I were bald?