Category Archives: Life in the Yucatan

The good, the bad and the ugly. Telling it like I see it for over 10 years now.

Fun Merida Activities – The 9 PM Houston Flight Arrival Event

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For those of you constantly whining about how this or that is not the ‘real’ Merida as if all Yucatecans had to wear starched white clothing, clunky sandals and balance a tray with bottle and glasses on their heads for your amusement, here is another unreal Yucatecan activity that you too can participate in!

There are tried and true Merida traditions, like frijol con puerco on Mondays, visiting the family home en masse on Sundays, and spending the summer months at the beach, that you are probably quite aware of. But there are also newer, more modern traditions that you may not be aware of or that are being crafted in our lifetime, right now! One of these is the cultural event that occurs almost nightly at Merida’s airport.

Each night at the Manuel Cresencio Rejon airport (who the hell was that guy anyway) here in the formerly white city, around 9 PM, a crowd gathers at the arrivals gate to welcome the passengers arriving on the almost-daily Continental Airlines flight from Houston, USA.

It’s always a fine cross-section of Merida’s population with all the socioeconomic groups represented.Look carefully!

There are the well-off Meridanos from the clase acomodada, awaiting the arrival of a tia or tio or perhaps a student – mi primo – returning from a semester in the US where they went to study English with all the chicanos and instead learned to appreciate the value of their muchacha as well as the recreational qualities of marijuana. These folks gather in small groups, often based on age groups, because they know each other and ask ‘a quien vienes a buscar‘ which is then followed by a lengthy conversation on the life of the person they are waiting for. This is also a good time to catch up on local gossip once the initial conversation has reached a saturation point and/or flight 1842 is late landing on the tarmac.

Also present is some sort of gringo element in the form of a single man or perhaps a couple, who have come to pick up one of their kind who is coming to visit or stay for an extended period of time in their newly renovated house. These people, wearing garb that ranges from monied and downright elegant to scraggly shorts and a wrinkled guayabera topped off with Felix the Cat facial hair and a bedhead do, are often standing alone and will keep to themselves, even in the presence of other gringos unless of course they are on speaking terms in which case they will make light superficial conversation about life in “Centro”.

There is almost always a family or two of people who fit into neither category, gringo or clase acomodada, and who probably live in one of Merida’s “popular” neighborhoods, “popular” being the local term for the poor and low income people that make up the vast majority of the Yucatans population. These people do not mingle with the aforementioned clusters and arrive in large familial units complete with a gaggle of children accustomed to unusual bedtimes and often with an hipil-clad abuelita in tow.

A fun activity is to try matching the passengers escaping the baggage claim and semaforo area with the people waiting. One can get the occasional surprise when, for example, the low income family with the hipil-clad grandmother is the group that welcomes open-armedly the solitary gringo with one carry-on piece of luggage. Hugs and backslaps from the males, polite handshakes from the women and shy smiles from the many children accompany the lucky gringo (you should consider yourself lucky to get such an enthusiastic reception) to whatever form of transporation is waiting outside.

While enjoying this entertainment, I recommend getting a pretty awful cup of coffee which costs about half a minimum daily wage 😉 at the place next to Burger King, or perhaps ordering some hot french fries at BK itself so you can munch or sip while watching the goings-on.

Look around folks, and welcome to the real Merida.

Frijol con Puerco – A Monday Tradition

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Usually made on Mondays because it was “easy” to prepare, frijol con puerco is a true Yucatecan classic I have come to love.

There is the colorful, aromatic array of finely chopped condiments (above), with onions, radishes, limones and plenty of exotic cilantro; these are added to your plate according to your preferences. I’m not a huge fan of onion breath myself so I don’t put more than a teaspoons worth in mine.

Another selection of condiments offered included chopped cucumber, a first for me (below) and creamy avocado which of course helps to boost the dish’s already stratospheric calorie count.

In addition to the condiments there should be a fresh roasted tomato salsa as well as fire-toasted habanero chiles ground with the juice of freshly picked limones, preferably from the obligatory backyard tree.

Once it’s all mixed and prepared as you like it, roll up a hot tortilla, grab that spoon with the other hand and dig in.

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Casual Movie Critic – Cell 211

Life in the Yucatan, Nada que Ver, , , , ,

This is a Spanish movie (ie from Spain) that has been suggested as a winner for several movie categories and people are talking about it. I went to see it and was, again, among a small group of about 10 people in the Gran Plaza movie theater.

The movie itself has myriad online reviews ranging from ‘absolutely brilliant’ to ‘whatever’ and my opinion falls somewhere in the middle. Certainly it’s better than the other two movies reviewed earlier, but that is not much of a challenge, although some of the so-called twists in the plot were expected and predictable.

It was, however, enormous fun to hear the original Spanish dialogue – especially all the colorful swearing! – and often required some real concentration because they speak so fast! If you don’t speak Spanish that well, you will most assuredly get nothing from this movie; and there are no subtitles, English, Spanish or otherwise, to fall back on.

Watch the trailer here.

Casual Movie Critic – The Expendables (Including The Movie)

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Another film in theaters now here in sunny Merida.

When I was younger, I always thought it would be great to have all the action movie guys together in one movie. When I was younger.

Now that it has finally happened, the result is so bad as to be unwatchable. Unless you are one of those people who say ‘I paid to sit here and I am damn well going to stay here until the bitter end’, you will probably get up about 1/3 of the way through to just plain leave the theater.

I suspect that the fact that Sylvester Stallone directed, and I use the term loosely and generously, this rotten piece of celluloid, as well as receiving writing credit for it, is the reason it is so very very crappy. From the ridiculous gratuitous violence and the Rambo style shootouts where the good guys hit everyone and the bad guys can’t aim to the cartoonish and cliche South American dictator and his minions who speak Spanish with an American accent to the ‘beautiful’ latina heroine who single-handedly leads the oppressed villagers, to the ancient (how old ARE these actors now??) Stallone, Willis, Lundgren et al acting like they are in their 20’s, The Expendables is so stupidly bad on so many levels that it is difficult to process.

Unfortunately it is not funny bad, where you could at least laugh uproariously at the screen, but bad bad, where you just sit numbly until your brain explodes and you have to leave.

This movie is entirely expendable. Do not waste your money, time or neurons on this one. It is truly the worst movie I have been in the presence of in a long, long time.

Casual Movie Critic – Wall Street 2, Money Never Sleeps (But You Will)

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Once again, the Better Half is away and I have decided to see what’s going on at Meridas movie theaters.

Among the movies that are new in theaters in Merida this week is this Oliver Stone film that revisits Wall Street and Gordon Gecko played once again by Michael Douglas. As usual, regular movie critiques have already been written about this movie so I will spare you the details and give you my short opinion.

The film, IMHO, falls into the “nothing to write home about” category and to me just sort of plods along in a predictable way until the two hours or so are up. Nothing really surprising, the acting is fine but certainly not inspired and personally I found the financial shenanigans as cancer references slightly disturbing in light of Michael Douglas’ being diagnosed as having the disease. I suspect the film was completed before anyone knew he had it? Shia Lebeouf is more or less believable and the girlfriend character as well but I could not really sympathize with their situation at any point in the film. Not even the usually great Susan Sarandon had any spark in this movie. Oliver Stone himself is in there as a Wall Street dude and that Sheen guy from the last film pops in as well.

The fact that this is not a particularly exciting movie was reflected in the attendance at the giant Sala 6 of the the Gran Plaza movie theater, which contained an audience comprised of exactly 4 other people besides yours truly. I expect this movie will be taken out of Merida circulation within less than a week to be replaced with something a little more crowd pleasing.

Go see it if there is nothing better on and you are desperate for air conditioning on a hot afternoon. Otherwise, stick to a good telenovela on TV. Or better yet, have a nap.

Morning Musings

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When the power goes out, as it invariably does here in Merida, you are left with contemplating life without electricity, which we (or at least I) take for granted every day.

Making my morning coffee, I am lucky enough to have a little French press that makes coffee for one and a half; a perfect morning starting size for me, what Starbucks might call a venti. Also, like most Yucatecans, I use gas in my kitchen which facilitates the heating of the water for said coffee, coffee harvested from the highland plains of  Costco, sold under the brand name Gila and already ground and stored in my freezer.

Speaking of freezer – and fridge – these must be opened and shut quickly, so as to conserve whatever cold temperatures are inside because one never knows how long these power outages are going to last.

Having charged the laptop throughout the previous night, I am able to write this morning without the distraction of the internet, as the modem is powered, again, by electricity and that little WiFi icon on my screen is blocked by a bright red cross, kind of like one of those AIDS ribbons. As I am typing this, and this is so coincidental as to be downright weird, Microsoft Works (with ads) pops up an ad for National AIDS fund with, as luck would have it, a red ribbon.

For a few days now I wanted to write about some of the wildlife one can see in ones garden if one doesn’t opt for the popular method of slashing and burning all local vegetation on ones property in order to build ones house.  This morning is a good opportunity to do so.

Leaving local trees and plants like the dzidilche, jabin, chaka and even the spiny, twisty catzin, can reward you with a cornucopia of local fauna that will frequent your garden and make sitting at your kitchen window a National Geographic moment, without the ads.

Besides several species of local birds, most prominent among them the k’au, or grackle which delights in surrounding our homes indoor (open to the sky) patio and diving in to the dogs dish to scoop up dog food nuggets and taking them to the pool where they are dipped in water to soften them up before swallowing, there are a few larger animals as well. How the heck do they learn this complex physics concept of a liquid softening up something hard? I have probably mentioned this before so forgive me if I am repeating myself but these birds blow me away with their smarts!

Occasionally, herds (for lack of a better term and without the internet where shall I look to find the correct name) of squirrels invade the treetops, jumping from branch to branch, scurrying along the edge of the roof and leaping great distances to traverse the entire back yard in about 5 minutes, chattering loudly and excitedly. The tree branches rustle and bounce, the dog goes crazy trying to get at them and the show is over in a very short time indeed.

Two days ago, cleaning the leaves and debris tossed into the pool by Karl, the blowhard who didn’t stick around and made his way to Veracruz, I noticed a snake near the edge of the water. About a meter long, it was reddish brown and looked perfectly harmless. As I considered my options, it moved very quickly and sinuously into the pool itself and, head raised triumphantly, slithered-ly swam to the opposite end where it popped out without any effort and disappeared under some rocks. I think about the times I have swum in the pool at night, in the dark without a care in the world.

Yesterday, sitting in this very kitchen and typing on this very computer, a movement caught my eye. Straight ahead of me, perched vertically on the bougainvillea trunk beside the kitchen window, was a very large iguana, dressed in a shade of gray (as usual) and bright green (very unusual) as it had been sitting in the bright green branches above. As I looked around for a camera, it continued downwards and made it’s hip-wiggling way across the lawn to yet another set of rocks where it vanished.

The power has returned and the silence has been broken by the hum of fans, motors, compressors and the neighbors mozo vacuuming their vehicles. The good news for me is that I can upload this post as well as take a shower and get on with my day.

Have a great Sunday, everyone!

How Mexicana Changed My Travel Plans

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , ,

Because people asked.

So there I was, happily esconced at a friends place in Vancouver, enjoying the cool, sunny weather of a British Columbia fall, when I got the news that Mexicana went from the suspending a few flights (Vancouver-Houston had been un-affected up to this point) to a complete shut-down, due to, as their website blurb pointed out, a failure in reaching agreements with certain sectors (nudge nudge wink wink; read unions).

I returned my rental vehicle to the Vancouver airport on September 2, as scheduled and looked for the lonely Mexicana counter, tucked in forlornly among the myriad Cathay Pacific and China Air counters, where I found about 4 people standing around, all Mexicans, waiting on someone to help them. When asked, the Vancouver airport information desk person stated that she had received word that no one would be in from Mexicana that day but, the Mexican in me said, let’s go have a coffee and think about this and someone will probably show up. And they did.

Two non-uniformed employees of Mexicana, who make up the backbone of the airlines operations in Vancouver I was told later, helped the 4 Mexicans get flights home via Air Canada and American Airlines, who were the only companies helping Mexicana out. When it came to my turn, I was informed that there was an option via Air Canada but that would mean flying to Toronto and then on to Mexico somewhere. Toronto! Flying across the continent was not appealing to me at all and I mentioned that I was in no rush (it was still sunny in Vancouver after all) and so I got a voucher for American Airlines to fly Vancouver-Dallas/Ft Worth-Mexico City on September 4, 2 days later. I was to be at the airport at 8:30, 3 hours before the flight. OK. I went back to my friends place to enjoythe sun.

On September 4, I arrived at 9:00 AM at the American Airlines counter to find it closed. What? Asking again at the information desk, the nice lady told me that the flight had already left at 10:00. Now I was confused. Had it left early or what? There was no time on the travel voucher given to me and so I trundled off with my very overstuffed, overweight luggage to the Mexicana counter which, this time, was closed. After considering my dilemma, I asked the nice folks at China Air where the Mexicana people were and was told that no, they were not coming in today but did I know that they had an office right behind the counters, just over there? No, I did not. In I went, luggage in tow and found the man who had helped me on September 2.

“Que le paso?” he exclaimed upon seeing me again.

I explained and he said no, no, no, he had told me that the FLIGHT was at 8:30 AM and to be 3 hours before that. Obviously I had misunderstood him and MISSED MY FLIGHT.

Was there another option, I asked. No, we are quickly running out of alternatives and even Air Canada has pulled the plug on us. You will have to go to American Airlines and see if they can accommodate you on another flight using that voucher.

Off I go to American Airlines to see what they can do. After standing in line for a while (they were checking in their afternoon flight now) the counter lady tells me “Well, that voucher is good for 24 hours only and today is completely booked and it looks like tomorrow is as well”.

Mussing my hair up discreetly, I tell her that I am really getting exhausted from sleeping at the airport and could she please pretty please check again, I would really appreciate it. Lo and behold, a spot comes up and she tells me to come back tomorrow at 10:45 AM to check in for their 2:05 PM flight to Dallas and then on to DF. After making her repeat the time I needed to be there about seventeen times I get on my knees and thank her. Not really, but I was extremely grateful and told her so.

On September 5, my dear friend once again drove me to the airport,luggage and all and this time I was first in line at the American Airlines counter at 10:00 AM sharp. At 11:00 AM, there were many folks behind me, all coming from the Alaska cruise (which departs from Vancouver) and all with some sort of respiratory infection they caught on the ship. Another reason to stay away from cruiseships, I thought.

The counter person, to whom I explained my sad (sort of) situation (again) took pity on me and did not charge the $100 USD overweight baggage charge, saying only that he would tag it as ‘heavy’ and that I had been through enough grief. The truth is that I had not really been at all stressed; what with no where to go, no where to be and a very comfortable bed at my friends place and did I mention that it had been sunny up to that point? Nevertheless, I appreciated the gesture greatly since it left some room on the credit card which I immediately put to good use in the fancy-pants restaurant and my long-suffering friend and I had a great breakfast.

Once on the plane, aisle seat, emergency exit with lots of leg room (!) I texted home to say I was finally on my way.

In Dallas, a two hour layover allowed me to sample Cousins Barbeque before getting back on the plane to DF. I missed the free WiFi that Vancouver International Airport offers it’s visitors however; call it socialism, you Republican freaks of nature, but it is very comforting to be able to communicate with loved ones from the airport and is just a NICE gesture. In Dallas/Ft Worth, no free WiFi thank you very much.

Finally, after bumping along for 2 hours or so in the midst of a cloud bank that never went away, the plane touched down in Mexico City. Mexicana of course had no one at their counters since it was after midnite and so I checked into the hotel across the way, the Camino Real with the intention of heading over first thing in the morning to see about getting to Merida.

At 7:30 I was talking to a Mexicana rep who told me that there was nothing they could do for me and to go to Aeromexico, who were offering a special rate for passengers affected by the Mexicana debacle. The Aeromexico counter person informed me that no, there was nothing going to Merida that had any space on it. What about Cancun, I asked hopefully, crossing my fingers. Yes, there was a flight at 8:30 AM and I could go on that. Do it, I said.

Rushed back to the hotel, combed my hair, got the luggage, and checked out. Terminal 2 was quite a hike the receptionist informed me – would I like to take the shuttle? It was standing outside, ready to go. OK.

Arriving at Terminal 2, a spectacular new building, I rushed to the gate. The wheelchair person (all the ticket checkers at the entrance to the secured areas are in wheelchairs it seems) asks me “Are you planning to take that suitcase on board?” Shit! With time running out, I race back to the check in counter where I find a long lineup for Aeromexico flights. I will never make this, I think to myself and text home saying that I may be coming home soon but then again, maybe not. Suddenly, an announcement comes over the PA system indicating that passengers on the Cancun flight are to report to a special window set up just for them as the flight is about to begin boarding. Rushing over, I am helped quickly enough, only I need to get in this other line-up to pay for the grossly overweight luggage I plan to take with me. Once this is done, I am issued a boarding pass and run back to my wheelchair friends who look me over and wave me through.

As I arrive at the gate, the boarding announcement is made and once I am actually on the plane, I phone home to say that yes, I will be getting there – almost – soon. Almost because I will be arriving in Cancun, not Merida. Aisle seat, emergency exit, lots of leg room. Coincidence? Who knows.

In Cancun, I am assaulted by the humidity and heat as I drag myself and my luggage outside to consider my next move. There is the ADO bus to Merida which is comfy but which means I need to move my heavy junk to the shuttle to downtown and then negotiate the lines downtown to get my Merida ticket. OR, I could take the ADO shuttle from the airport itself which goes straight to Altabrisa mall in Merida. I decide on the latter. I will be taking the Sprinter, I am informed upon paying my 450 pesos or so, in cash: thankfully I have saved a $500 peso bill for whatever reason.

Now I understood that the Sprinter meant the actual Sprinter, a small bus made by Renault, Peugeot or one of those French companies that is actually called a Sprinter. Alas, no such animal awaited me; rather it was a Nissan Urvan van, which seats 2 comfortably and 9 really uncomfortably. On this trip there were 11 of us, not counting the driver. “But you will stop in Valladolid”, the fellow at the airport says “for a bathroom stop”. I look forward to having a Donia Tere taco and a decent coffee at the Italian Coffee location on the way, as I accommodate my knees up around my ears and settle in.

The driver, unfortunately has no such plans and two hours later zips by the Isla de Servicios on the way to Merida. I wistfully look back at Donia Tere and hunker down for another hour and a half of this fun ride.

Finally, I arrive at the Altabrisa ADO mini-station where the driver pops the trunk and leaves us. We are to unload the luggage ourselves which we do, rather stiffly, in the wet heat of a sunny Merida afternoon.

We are home.

A Novel Costco Promotion

Life in the Yucatan, , , ,

So there you are in Costco, checking out the beautiful books on display, one of which is opened and on top, because it is the Mexican way to shrink-wrap all books for your enjoyment. Really.

If you go to Merida’s “leading” book stores, Dante and Ghandi, you will see what I mean. ALL the books are – besides being unceremoniously crammed into every available space with no room left for a nice display – shrink wrapped so as to prevent people from opening them. If you are polite, you can ask to have one opened and perhaps you will not get the frowny acquiescence from the “sales” person as she removes the plastic enclosing the literary treasure.

No wonder people don’t read.

ANYWAY.

The cookbook illustrated above features recipes and is supposedly directed at somewhat culinarily (yes, I make these words up) sensitive audience, which would probably be NOT really that interested in their fabulous promotion.

Sor Juana and all that? Sounds a little more sophisticated than a freakin’ hot dog and refresco.

Migracion – Comments on FM2 Permit Renewal

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There are, as you know, other sites out there, such as YES (Yucatan Expat Services) that will take you through the FM3 or FM2 renewal process step by step, so this article won’t be about the actual process itself, but rather just a few comments by me on my experience this past week.

Yesterday, I spent the good part of the morning (all of it actually) sitting in the Migracion office here in sunny Merida. Migracion, for those of you new to the word, is the term used to generically describe the Immigration office here. It is located in a former private home or rather mansion; not an actual office built for the purpose, and so is a series of rooms in a house that some wealthy family has given up in rent to this branch of the federal government. In their rental clause, we can assume that a stipulation was made that nothing be changed architecturally since many furnishings are still there that have absolutely nothing to do in a federal immigration office. Like that giant chandelier in the room where you get your application looked at. Crammed in what I am guessing was a dining room at one point are many desks and shelves of the Office Depot particle board variety, along with a double row of black seating for the applicants as they wait their turn, each holding either a little green or orange square of laminated paper with a number on it.

This is a very official little paper and measures about 3/4 of an inch square, so don’t lose it. I recommend gripping it tightly between thumb and forefinger, although your thumb will probably render it invisible; that’s how big it is.

As you sit there, clutching that piece of paper, you can’t help but notice the huge art-deco-ish chandelier hanging above you, now retrofitted with ghastly energy saving blue-white light bulbs. The photo I took of it for yesterdays trivia game “Where in the Yucatan am I?” (played on Twitter – stay tuned for another game real soon) prompted one player to remark that he thought I was somewhere under a rocket being launched. This gives you an idea of what this chandelier looks like. I will post the photo of the lamp, along with the other two photo-clues, below.

Also, a second clue I posted on Twitter was of the floor. As in most houses built in the 1800’s this mansion has beautiful pasta tile floors that form a kind of carpet on the floor of each room; very pretty.

The walls, you will notice, have remnants of that brown packing tape that is used to stick notices and papers to the walls, and once those papers and notices have been removed, the tape leaves a sticky brown residue that is impossible to remove and pretty well ruins the once white walls. Notice also the doors, beautifully made back in the day and never designed for multiple per-minute openings and closings – they are suffering terribly and special hinges and latches have been installed to enable them to close properly.

The personnel in the office is, for the most part, aloof and there are many people walking about – some uniformed, some not – usually holding a bunch of papers. Their instructions apparently are not to make eye contact with the victims or applicants until the applicants turn comes up. The friendlier ones are the ladies that have been in Migracion since the Ice Age and who have labored under the many delegados that have come and gone during their tenure. The delegados, you see, are the ones who head up the branch of this and any office run by the federal government (Immigration, IMSS, INFONAVIT, Tourism etc) and they are appointed by friends in high places and do not necessarily have a clue about the job involved in their new prestigious position. And so, the actual work is done by the sub-delegado and the previously-mentioned ladies who are all very nice, know everyone and how to get things done.

I spent the morning there, as I mentioned earlier and had plenty of time to observe the office and all of us applicants there. Some read books, others chatted amongst themselves, bored children jumped and screamed delightedly on the stairs. There was plenty to see and time passed quickly, from 10 AM to noon. Once at the desk, I found that my FM2 renewal was pretty well on its way and that I was to hand in a copy of my last tax payment, which I did, and then received a payment form to pay for the renewal at a bank. If you are unfamiliar with this process, most government offices distrust their employees or have no control systems in place to handle money and so one must always pay the fee, cuota, fine, whatever – at a bank.

Once I paid, I rushed back to be in the office before the gates close at 1:00 PM and was helped about an hour later. My bank receipt was collected and I was given a cita – an appointment – to come back next week to receive the actual renewal, which, it was explained to me, would be in the form of a credit card size visa, much like the ones issued by the US of A and the little gray booklet would become obsolete.

Once next week comes along, I will write about the exciting denouement to this adventure!

Why Investing in a Menu Translation Service is a Good Idea

Casual Restaurant Critic, Inspired, Life in the Yucatan

If there is any hesitation as to why one should use a professional translator when writing menus in another language, let the Casual Restaurant Critic lay those doubts to rest with the following presentation, courtesy a local hotel/restaurant that really should know better. The Critic suspects that the menu writer was Chinese.

Here are some comments on the menu, followed by photos of the actual menu to prove that this is not made up gibberish. It is published gibberish.

Enjoy! And thanks to my good friend, the Argentinian Evita L. Ekcesso for this item.