Category Archives: Life in the Yucatan

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

The Montejo Statues “Controversy”

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

An email from a friend alerted me to the presence of a BBC reporter who did a piece on Merida which focused entirely on the ‘storm in a teacup’ surrounding the statues of the Franciscos de Montejo which were recently unveiled on the Paseo de Montejo, Merida’s wide, Champs Elysees -style boulevard. The interview with a Yucatecan anthropologist, which can be heard here, covers the unfavorable reaction that the statues have received from some sectors. It seems to me that if the BBC was doing their GeoQuiz on Merida, there are about a gazillion other things to talk about, but the statues were the topic of this segment.

In my humble and unschooled opinion, the statues simply put a face to the name that is present on the avenue, a local beer, and of course the Casa Montejo, now a Banamex bank and once their base and home in the city’s Plaza Grande. Undoubtedly, their contribution to the city, besides drawing up the initial plans for how the newly formed capital should be laid out and grow, included a lot of exploitation of and violence against, the existing Mayan indian population. I don’t feel that the statues glorify the Montejo clan, as the history of the Yucatan is taught, to some degree, in every elementary, secondary and high school in the state and so most people are aware of the atrocities perpetrated by the conquistadores.

On the other hand, there is a statue, much larger and more dramatic to be sure, to one of the great Mayan indian warriors, Jacinto Canek, on an avenue that bears his name as well. The difference in the two statues and where they are located may be a subtle clue to the underlying sentiments that prevail in the Yucatan today. The Montejos are on Merida’s most spectacular avenue, where turn of the century mansions line the street and pedestrians stroll under giant shady trees on wide sidewalks; the Jacinto Canek avenue is a noisy, commercial and thoroughly unattractive street, notorious for being the home of the shabbiest strip clubs and where the sidewalk is broken and populated each night by transvestite prostitutes.

Racism is alive and well in the Yucatan – but never talked about – and perhaps the Montejos statues contribution will be a renewed discussion on the lingering effects of that fateful moment in history, over 500 hundred years ago, when the cultures of the old world clashed with those of the new.

Coach Anita’s iPhone@TelCel Trials and Tribulations

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

Every once in a while, we here at lawsonsyucatan.com feature a guest griper who has a fresh and illuminating take on everyday life in the city we all love and find so, well, interesting.

Today’s contribution is from Coach Anita P. Beale; you may already know her! She hangs out in the mercado grande early mornings and is visited by many a local after a weekend night of partying. About 5 AM, when everyone is drunk or coming down from a drunk, they will announce “Vamos por Coach Anita! ”

——————————————————————————–

The following is my account of my day at TelCel on Saturday…

I ordered my iPhone today… how exciting! It was a tedious affair of driving to one of only four authorized Telmex iPhone outlets at Alta Brisa Mall, checking in at the check in desk, standing in a long and very pedestrian line, and then finally getting permission to go to one of the 40 desk/booths to interface with some kid. Here are some of the highlights of the exchange, let’s see how it went, shall we?:

*Good afternoon, I’d like to discuss the purchase of an iPhone.

*well, we have a lot of different plans, do you know which one you want?

*yes, a friend told me all about her plan, and I would like what she has so I am prepared.

*do you want this in your personal name or the name of your corporation?

*name of the corporation please. (maybe we could get a tax credit or something)

*well it takes 5 days working to get it as a regular citizen and por lo menos twice that for the corporation, and we will need your acta constructiva, original and copies, bills for the last 2 years, originals and copies, taxes paid, names and signatures of each officer, signed form from the accountant of the corporation.

*never mind, just as a real live person.

*we need three character witnesses and their addresses and land-line phones, no cel phones, even though that’s what you are buying.

*didn’t have their addresses so made them up, Juanita had told me that they needed land lines so had those numbers with me, however they asked her for two, and now need three! Good thing I added an extra one to be safe (I guess I’ve lived here long enough to anticipate). They need land line numbers because of course one can’t trust cel phones at TelCel celular phone company.

*”representative” fidgeted constantly, rocking back and forth and up and down like he was comin’ offa crack or something. Cleaned glasses a minimum of 9 times. I do believe he farted twice as well.

*will I be able to keep my old phone number? Yes! But not if you want to keep your old phone.

*all names/numbers will be wiped out of your old phone before we activate your new phone, best to write everything down on a piece of paper. (Now wait just a minute… I can’t see that happening in San Francisco or London or Tokyo… do they ask them to do that there too?)

*May I see phone? See how it works?

*there’s one on display, but I’ll have to help someone else in line while you look, and you’ll have to wait until they are done before I can help you again…

*plus that one in display is out of battery and is a black screen anyway so there is nothing for you to see

*may I see the white one?

*no, all phones are sealed in boxes and only opened if you buy it.

*do you have any white ones in stock

*I don’t know, I would have to go in the stockroom and check.

*it doesn’t show that on your screen?

*no.

*would you check please?

*yes, but it will be around 5 minutes or so while I rummage through the stock room

*I want white, I think, please check and I will twiddle my thumbs while you check

*5 minutes*

*yes! we have white, but you can’t see it… do you want it?

*I guess.

*is all info correct on this sheet?

*well, it is Juanita, not Judith

*rips up page and throws in trash dramatically

*OK, is everything correct?

*well, Heitke is my apellido, not my nombre

*rips up page and throws in trash dramatically

*is everything correct?

*street is between 65 and 67, not 65 and 77

*rips up page and throws in trash dramatically

*is everything correct?

*my birthday is in July, not June

*rips up page and throws in trash dramatically

*is everything correct now?

*yes, it is!

*it will take 5 days to process your request, where should we call you?

*my home phone or cel phone number

*but your cel number will be disconnected by us, so we can’t call that and rules clearly state that we have to have two numbers. I cannot go forward without this information

*but you won’t disconnect it UNLESS my dossier comes through Interpol as a go, right?

*we will call your cel number

*would you like to pay by cash or credit card each month?

*credit card

*oh, your credit card isn’t a national one, is it?

*no, it is from the usa, but I use it every single day here in Merida

*I have to go check, this may take a while

*a while*

*computer says no.

*so would you like to pay by cash or credit card each month, but with a Mexican credit card?

*I don’t have a Mexican credit card, so cash, I will physically go to your office every single stinkin’ month to pay.

*OK, I think I have everything, that is all. You will be contacted if you are eligible.

*will I be contacted if I am NOT eligible?

*no

It’s not the Heat, it’s the Humidity

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan

For those of us who live in the ‘real’ Merida and not one of those multi-million dollar restored and icy air conditioned turn of the century colonial charmers, this is the time of year many of us want to run screaming and sweating from Merida in search of someplace dry and cool.

In the closet, leather belts and shoes, along with luggage and camera lenses, come to life with the sudden appearance of a thin growth of fine green hairlike mold that only sunlight will kill, while producing a lovely odor of decomposition that makes one want to throw everything on a bonfire.

Outside, the chimenea where you would make that bonfire is soaked through and through and everything you try to burn sputters for a brief moment and then goes out in a puff of white smoke.

The morning newspaper that the Diario man thoughtfully puts in a plastic bag before tossing it in the general direction of your door, wilts in your hand like a piece of San Jose Costa Rica McDonalds lettuce.

As a snail crawls up your kitchen wall, oblivious to the fact that it is completely and absolutely out of context there, you sample a previously opened box of Zucaritas and find that the sugared flakes have melded together and are now one limpy lump.

Your bedside novel, a paperback by Michael Pollan on the Omnivores Dilemma, is slowly doing a Cirque du Soleil-like contortion act, it´s covers bending impossibly back upon themselves like an overly ambitious Argentinian acrobat.

Your dryer works overtime as the regular method of sun-drying your clothes on the line is not working; the items hanging there remain humid and develop a rather nasty smell that will necessitate a second washing.

Yes, it’s July and we are in the middle of our rainy season. Torrential downpours and black skies in the middle of the afternoon wreak havoc with visitors and locals plans alike, turning a potentially relaxing beach vacation into a mosquito-infested exercise in staving off cabin fever. Those who remain in the city, battle the flooded streets either on foot, wading through knee high muddy water and getting thoroughly doused by passing buses whose drivers take a perverse pleasure in inflicting wet misery on pedestrians, or in their cars, whose electrical systems threaten to short out as they traverse the rivers that once were streets in Merida’s drainage-challenged centro.

With the rains, come angry black clouds of mosquitoes that can cover a bare leg in seconds, causing its owner to leap and slap like a Tirol lederhosen-clad folk dancer. The official solution is to drive a small truck with a pesticide spraying machine in its bed, through towns and streets, to the consternation of environmentally conscious foreigners and the complacent acceptance of most Yucatecans who know that this smelly solution is better than a bout of dengue fever.

This is a good time of year for those planning to move to Merida to actually spend some time in the formerly white city, to get a feel for the more humid side of Yucatan life!

Uruguay vs Netherlands

Casual Restaurant Critic, Life in the Yucatan, , , ,

The Critic and I enjoyed a rousing semi-finals World Cup soccer match while chomping on crispy chewy pork chamorro washed down with a frosty German Schwarzbier.

Don Jürgen, el owner, stopped at each table to chat and mentioned that for tomorrows über-exciting match between Spain and Germany, every single seat was already reserved; standing room only!

In any case, I will on the road, somewhere between Progreso and Uxmal and will have to conform to the radio version of the transmission on W Radio on FM.

Nothing like the World Cup!

Speaking of Americans

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

Now that we are on the subject of July 4th (OK we aren’t/weren’t but isn’t this a nice segue) there is an article I read this morning regarding the term ‘American’ which was enlightening, especially in the definition of the term. I always thought that a citizen of the United States referring to him or herself as ‘American’ was really pretentious, since I believed that ‘Americas = continents’ theory, but I am almost ready to let it go.

From the article I read this morning:

How to tell whether or not you believe the term “American” really applies to you.

If you were to go to India and speak to someone who said she had family in America, would you truly respond “Oh really?  Where exactly.. in Chile?..  Guatemala?? … Peru perhaps?”

If a forklift driver in Moscow with nothing more than a high school education reads that “only in America can a dockworker with nothing more than a high school education earn 50 grand a year and if he works hard enough start and run his own business…” , do you seriously believe he’s just as likely to pack his bags for Venezuela or Mexico as he is for the U.S.?

Read the rest here.

Driving Instructions – Baca

Casual Restaurant Critic, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , ,

So. You are all packed and ready to go on a trip to Baca.

OK, OK. You are not packed, you are just hungry and want to see if that Thai place you heard about was open. This is what you do:

Take the Periferico, that 4 lane beltway that stretches 42 kilometers around the formerly white city and serves as a racetrack for those kids lucky enough to have daddies that buy them a BMW for their 16th birthday (pobres, se lo ganaron) and drive until you see the exit marked Motul or Tizimin. This is where you will get off, and go in the direction of Motul.

Passing different turnoffs, you remain on this road, oblivious to the cars piling up behind you as you toodle along; let them pass, the shoulder is nice and wide and you can keep driving along it as the cars zoom past on their way to their respective destinations and destinies. What you are looking for is a highway sign in green marked ‘Mococha’. This is the name of a town, BTW. Once you see it, scoot over into your left hand lane and make that turn.

This new, smaller road will lead you to what once was the only highway, now a small country road. You turn right at the T and follow along until you reach the next town, which is: Baca. Slow down (as if you have choice: Baca, like all Yucatecan towns has its share of speed bump topes) and keep a sharp eye on your left for a large, large property that features large (giant, actually) flat rocks built standing up into the walls, which feature dabs of yellow paint that becomes increasingly more prevalent as you drive along. There is an entrance right off the main road, this is NOT the entrance to the restaurant area.

Keep driving until you reach the confluence of a small shrine to the Virgen, a Clinica run by the IMSS and and probably a tope. This is where you will turn left onto a gravel road (Virgin on your left, clinica on your right) which you will follow until it curves, which is where you will find a small gate, a gatekeeper and hopefully he will let you in to visit the restaurant.

Hopefully this helps those interested in visiting this place which seems to the Critic anyway, highly unusual. A place for real Thai food in Baca. Who would have thought…

Yet another Yucatan church - Baca, Yucatan

The “Real Merida”

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

If there’s one thing that bothers me about idealistic folks coming to retire and/or live here semi-permanently, it’s those individuals that don’t visit northern Merida or go to a mall or eat at Carls Junior because it’s not, in their constrained and limited perception of what a modern Mexican city can be, the ‘real Merida’.

Maybe it’s because I have lived here for over 20 years and consider myself more local than foreign or maybe it’s because I am just a neurotic bastard, but this comment always manages to piss me off. It’s right up there with the ‘the children are so beautiful’ comment, which I have also had the pleasure of hearing on more than a dozen occasions and which also provokes from me the same, negative reaction. I feel like saying “of COURSE the children are beautiful – ALL children are beautiful, not just the brown ones that smile hopefully up at you, wealthy foreigner in shorts and sandals and flowery shirt.” It just seems so condescending, somehow.

Like the idea of a “real Merida.”

What is the real Merida? Are we (and I am speaking as a Yucatecan now) all supposed to run around in guayaberas and alpargatas and dance jaranas with trays of glasses on our adorable heads? Are we to eat only salbutes and panuchos and ‘typical’ food all week? The mistakenly romantic idea that in Merida time stands still and sushi, malls and Office Max are somehow contaminating someone’s vision of what the city should be is, again, condescending and frankly offensive.

I am motivated to write this little rant thanks to Beryl over at gorbman.com who just had a brush with the ‘real’ Merida; the Merida that most gringos don’t have to deal with and that, for the most part, lies just under the surface of the charming mess that is modern Mexico. You can read all about her brush with the ‘justice’ system in her fun account of what happened when she ran into Big Caesar (check out her photo to get a glimpse of Big Caesar)

Put your feet up, serve yourself a glass of typical cebada and enjoy a tale of one womans immersion into the ‘real’ Merida.

Tacos ‘Luis Aqui’

Casual Restaurant Critic, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

For your next party, do like the locals do and hire a taquero!

The Better Half organized a taquiza, which means, for lack of a better term, a taco party and for that you need a taquero like this one: Don Luis A Gil who provides you with delicious taquitos of great homecooked Yucatecan food. In todays case: relleno negro and cochinita.

Highly recommended by the Critic not only for the quality of his food, but for his amazingly friendly and gracious service.