Ruminations of an Expatriate

Not being a “professional” wrestling fan I was unaware of the popularity of wrestling masks, until I moved to Xalapa.  There are shops here which sell nothing but these masks, which many of the Cabo San Lucas tourist shops also sell.

Life Long Harborite’s son and his son’s buddy, who were along on the trip, couldn’t resist.

Here’s a photo of Pico de Orizaba taken through the window of the airplane on the trip to Cabo San Lucas.

Below is a steaming volcano also taken from the airplane window.

I mentioned in an earlier post that while in Cabo san Lucas I stayed at the hotel Mar de Cortez, named, for those who may not know, for the body of water which separates Baja California from the Mexican mainland.

Hugo is the bartender at the hotel, and quite an impressive fellow he is. The bar is owned by a very pleasant women, whose daughter and grand children own and operate the adjacent excellent restaurant, Spencer’s.

Having regularly visited the bar during happy hour, which runs from 11:00 to 6:00 each day, I was able to enjoy a number of conversations with Hugo. He is in his early thirties; speaks English very well; lives in San Jose del Cabo, the location of the international airport into which one flies when visiting Cabo san Lucas; is married; and has four children, daughters of 13, 8, and 5, and a son of three. Hugo’s wife works three hours a day, four days each week for an architectural/construction firm and sells Avon products. He indicated that his wife earns more money than does he; and told me, with a laugh, that he had tried to convince his wife that he should stay home to be a house husband but that his wife was not convinced.

One day while Hugo was telling me that he enjoys snorkeling, I remarked that, judging by the size of his arms and shoulders, he must also spend time at the gym. To which he responded that he plays professional baseball for the local Baja Sur team and coaches youth baseball teams. He indicated also that he had earlier played for three different teams of the 22 team Mexican professional league, of which the Yucatan Leones and the Mexico City team are the perennial favorites.

Hugo told me that he works at the bar everyday except Fridays, which he and his family spend camping on a remote beach not far from where they live. He reported that each Thursday his children excitedly prepare for the next day’s camping excursion by loading the camping gear in the family car. Thursday evening they depart for their camping spot, where they spend Friday playing soccer and baseball on the beach and where he spends time snorkeling to catch fish and shell fish which they cook on a camp stove on the beach.

He also told me that each year he returns with his family to his home town North on the Baja coast of the Mar de Cortez for a week of partying with his extended family. He spends much of the week snorkeling for sea snails, scallops, lobster, and other seafood which he packs into coolers for the trip home, and freezes. The seafood provides food for the family for four months.

The evening before I departed, as he was leaving for his one hour bus ride home, Hugo sought me out to bid farewell. He is one of those persons who renew one’s faith in humanity, and meeting him was one of those serendipitous travel experiences I will always remember.

I returned home to Xalapa this morning, after sleeping through the Xalapa station stop on the late night bus from Veracruz and ending up at the end of the line in the Tlaxcala station. I had no idea where I was when awakened by a nice lady who informed me that we were at the end of the line. Fortunately there was a bus just leaving for Xalapa which I was able to catch.

Cabo san Lucas is really not my type of scene, being too big, too popular, and too expensive. None-the-less I had a great time visiting, and engaging in reprobative behavior, with Life Long Harborite, my good friend and neighbor of thirty years; his wife, brother, and son; a friend of his son; and another couple.

I stayed with LLH’s brother, son, and his son’s friend at the Cortez de Mar, a very nice “budget” hotel (by Cabo standards anyway), with a wonderful staff, a great restaurant, a bar where the 2 for 1 happy hour runs from 11:00 to 6:00; and a nice swimming pool. The hotel is located in the more tranquil center part of town, away from the behemoth resort hotels and in the midst of a number of very good restaurants and more reasonably priced shops.

Seated next to me yesterday afternoon on the AeroMexico flight out of Cabo was a remarkable, and very polite, young fellow who struck up a conversation immediately upon taking his seat. He had been sent on a circuitous route on his flight from Edmonto, Alberta, near where he lives, first flying to Cabo, on to Mexico City, and ultimately to Juarez, just across the border from El Paso, Texas.

José is nineteen, was born in Juarez, and has lived near Edmonton, with his adoptive parents, for the last couple of years. José has never met his biological father and last saw his mother when he was three and placed in the orphanage, operated by a religious group associated with a Pentecostal church. He indicated that life in the orphanage was miserable and that he and the other children were not treated well. He has three sisters from whom he had been separated when placed in the orphanage, but with whom he has regained contact and whom, amongst other relatives, he will visit in Juarez for the next eight months.

When José was five, a Canadian couple came to the orphanage to work for a couple of years. The couple ultimately adopted José before returning to Canada, though were not permitted to take José out of the country. A number of times over the ensuing years José was permitted to visit his adoptive parents but never permitted to leave permanently to live with them.

José left the orphanage when fifteen and spent a couple of years in a gang, during which time, with the help of friends, he applied a number of tattoos to himself, all very tastefully done. (When was the last time your airplane seatmate showed you their tattoos?)

Eventually José made contact with his adoptive parents and moved to Alberta. He now works at constructing condos near a ski resort and studies law online. He indicated he intends to become a lawyer and to work as a private investigator.

He indicated also that he is writing a book recounting his life; and that he had contacted Oprah, who encouraged him in his endeavor and indicated that when complete she would look over the book and decide whether to publish it.

I bought José a beer upon our arrival in Mexico City and helped him with making his connecting flight. He expressed to me a number of times his relief at being back in Mexico and away from the Canadian cold. He thanked and hugged me upon parting.

José is indeed a remarkable young fellow, whether he has actually lived the life he described to me or just very creative at making up such a tale.

Looking South in Puerto Escondido ones sees the harbor and, beyond, the Pacific Ocean.  Looking North there are mountains.  It is all quite scenic.

I had reported on March First of my excursion to the top of a luxury hotel to shoot photos of the harbor and town. While there I also took photos of the construction of an addition to the hotel and, particularly, of the use of bricks as form work for construction of the arched window openings.

You can see that a board is placed horizontally at the bottom of the arch and supported by a post. Bricks are then stacked on the board in an arch shape to act as a form for the concrete.

The photos below is of the existing hotel showing the finished arched windows and a couple of fellows installing exterior electrical fixtures.

I think these are Jacaranda trees, which are blooming all through the areas of Oaxaca I visited.

The pelicans of Puerto Escondido are not the least bit shy. These guys were hanging around the morning, beach front fish market.

The palapas in Oaxaca utilize a different type of palm frond for the roof covering than is used in the palapas in Veracruz and the Yucatan, which use the long fronds from the Royal Palm. You may remember this discussion of palapas I posted about a year ago.Oaxaca palapas use smaller, fan shaped fronds, from which type of palm I don’t know. As you may see in the photo the upper most leaves of the frond are tied around the poles laid horizontally across the rafters.

Eighty kilometers, or so, East of Puerto Escondido resides the small town and harbor of Puerto Ángel. The morning I left Puerto Escondido I took an early bus to Pocutla and from there a taxi to Puerto Ángel.

The hour and a half bus ride was on the SUR line; and for the entire trip the driver played techno music, of which I have no understanding and, thus, no appreciation.

Except for two relatively small sandy beaches the harbor there is surrounded by craggy rock hills, upon which are perched houses. There is a concrete pier at the innermost point of the harbor that was used for the exportation of coffee grown in the area before the construction of the coastal highway in the area.

Like Puerto Escondido, the main occupation is fishing, and each day the fishers head out early and return about 8:00 to vend their catch on the beach.

The beach front palapa restaurants, tucked amongst palm trees, are adjuncts to private homes and offer a variety of fresh sea food. While sitting at one such restaurant, owned by Julio and his family, enjoying coffee with a shot of mezcal, the family, at least three generations, was on the patio behind having their morning meal. It was quite homey.

It really is a very picturesque, very tranquil little place, though I prefer the wider harbor and lush vegetation of Puerto Escondido.

Lupe, at right,  and Nancy are two of the housekeepers at the Mayflower Hotel in Puerto Escondido.  Each day they would show up early, change into their flowered dresses, and take care of business, often singing and always smiling.

During the week I stayed at the Mayflower, a combination hotel/hostel, there were groups of Japanese, Dutch, British, New Zealand, and Australian fellows, as well as a group of six Swedish young women staying in the dormitories.

There is common kitchen in which folks would congregate in the evenings to prepare dinner and carry on.  It was entertaining.

Each afternoon about 2:00 Lupe, Nancy and their two compañeras would occupy the kitchen for an afternoon meal.

Bougainvilleas are omnipresent in Mexico.  Here are a few shots of different colored bougainvilleas I encountered within about a block and a half during a walk around Puerto Escondido.

I ran across these large trees while exploring the non-tourist areas of Puerto Escondido.

A walkway, perhaps a mile in length, has been built along the rock which lines the Northwest Puerto Escondido harbor. The walkway is accessed from the western end of la Playa Prinicpal.

This is the Puerto Escondido beach where families hang out, as the relatively calm sea, the gently sloping beach, and the shallow water is perfect for young frolickers.

The town fishing fleet is anchored just beyond the inner harbor swimming area or parked on the beach. I watched a couple of boats beached by the pilot who accelerated approaching the beach and drove this boat up the beach to dry sand. The boats are the heavy, fiberglass hulled boats one encounters in every coastal Mexican town.

Each morning at about 8:00 the town fishermen are parked on the beach selling their catch from their boats to the gathered crowd of buyers.

Below at left is the view from my hotel room balcony.

Here’s a few shots of the waves which attract surfers to Puerto Escondido.

I will have my pictures of my Puerto Escondido trip developed tomorrow and will begin posting them soon.

I think I’d mentioned that I ended up staying at the Mayflower, just a couple blocks from the bus station, around which there are many hotels, cabanas, and such. The Mayflower is a combination hotel/hostel, thus there are lots of young folks staying in the dormitories, including lots of crazy young fellows. I opted for the hotel side of the operation and paid $230 pesos per night for a private room, two double beds, and a small terrace from which I had a nice view of the sea and where I could work on a tan (today’s exchange rate $10.69 pesos to $1 USA).

Though I did no serious research, the lowest room price I saw written on a wall, or otherwise advertised, was $150 pesos, including hot water and TV. The TV at the Mayflower picked up four stations, but WiFi is available throughout the place.

I think I mentioned the fellow from B. C. and the fellow from Seattle, who once owned land within 10 miles of where I spent my last thirty plus of my pre-expatriate years, who were staying there. There was another very interesting fellow also staying there.

Lee has spent his thirty eight years in the Kentucky/Ohio area. He speaks with a light drawl; and has worked as an automatic transmission mechanic and builder, apparently of some renown, beginning as a child helping in his father’s shop. His skills afforded him and his family a comfortable life. He claims to have been paid in “six figures” to do what ever he did with automatic transmissions, which included building customs transmissions for high performance cars. The shop in which he has worked provided minor sponsorships to NASCAR teams.

A year or so ago Lee’s wife and only two children were killed in an auto accident, three months later his mother died. Soon he was drinking to excess, gaining weight; and became increasingly despondent, even considering suicide, he reports.

About five weeks ago Lee walked into work; announced that he was leaving for a while; flew to Puerto Escondido; and took a room at the Mayflower, where he has become quite a fixture, even dating one of the housekeepers. I never did ask him why he chose Puerto Escondido. The day before I left, Lee reported that he had rented a home in town and that he is considering relocating permanently.

Lee told me, while eating toasted squash seeds, that at 38 his life has been turned upside down, he is happy in Puerto Escondido, and that he’s going to make the most of the opportunities. He indicated he is considering relocating there.

Meanwhile, yesterday I took the bus from Puerto Escondido to Pocutla, about a hour and a half East, and a taxi from there to Puerto Ángel to take a look at the place. Later, I return to Pchutla for the bus to Oaxaca.

Both the Puerto Ángel bay and town are much smaller than Puerto Escondido. The bay is surrounded by rocky hills, against which the waves crash, except for two fairly small, sandy beaches. There is a very small Mexican Naval Base there, and a pier at at the foot of the bay that seems very much over sized for the small harbor. The pier provides a favorable fishing spot where I watched a young fellow, with a treble hook set up on a hand line, snag and land three fish in three casts.

The beach front restaurants carry even more of that flavorful, funk factor than do those in Puerto Escondido, many simply palapa extensions from the proprietor’s home. It is really is quite a charming little fishing village; but no match for Puerto Escondido, flanked almost entirely by wide beaches and with lush vegetation backing the beaches.

Puerto Escondido

Other things I like about Puerto Escondido are that it’s very clean, it’s very relaxed, the folks are friendly, and it is a very beautiful place.

Revisiting the above post some hours later I realize, though the title refers to thoughts in the plural, I left but one. So here’s another.

Plumb and Level

I realized today why plumb and level costruction is so important in USA construction, and why in Mexico it’s generally not so important.

USA construction typically uses factory made, perfectly squared materials, plywood, sheetrock, and OSB for example. To facilitate the application of the factory squared panels the frame must be square and plumb.

Here in Mexico, buildings don’t generally use the factory squared products, but are constructed of cocrete; masonary; mortar; and finished in stucco, which hides almost any imperfection. Concrete and/or mortar can more readily account for plumb and/or level imperfections.

Mezcal

There is lots of Mezcal produced in Oaxaca, and one sees lots of fields of Maguey plants, even high mounttain patches, and roadside distilleries, touting their finest, all along the bus routes through Oaxaca. The Maguey is a variety of the Agave genus, which the reprobates amongst my five readers (which I suspect is in the strong majority) will recognize is the plant from which Tequila is rendered.

I asked a fellow at a beach-side Puerto Escondido restaurant, where I sat for an hour drinking margaritas and watching the comings and goings, as to the difference between the Maguey and Agave. He told me they are the same plant and that the difference in flavor between Oaxacan Mezcal and the Tequila of Jalisco derives from the different environments in which they are grown. Though I appreciated his answer, being a skeptic, I remained unconvinced. I did a Yahoo search and found the following excerpt at this site:

They both derive from varieties of the agave plant. Tequila is made from only one species of agave, the agave tequilana Weber (blue variety). Mezcal, on the other hand, can be made from five (!) different varieties of agave. The production processes also vary, tequila being distilled twice and mezcal being distilled only once.

So it’s the differences in the variety of Agave plant and and the distilling process differentiate Tequila and Mezcal. I know from my distilled spirits research (which resulted in the construction of a valved reflux still from which I produced moonshine) that Tequila and Mezcal are distilled using “Pot Stills”, which is just what you probably will imagine. A large, usually, copper kettle, in which the fermented “mash” is heated to the ethanol boiling point; a vapor-tight kettle cover from which emerges tubing of increasingly small diameter, often including a variety of differently shaped copper structures between the kettle and cover which provide a bit of reflux action; the tubing is then configured as a condenser, often a copper coil immersed in a container through which water continuously flows, causing the ethanol vapors to condense in the tube, from which the product is collected. Distilling twice, as with Tequila, removes more of the non-ethanol chemicals; and, thus produces a purer product. But with pureness comes a reduction in flavors.

Perhaps you also know that to truly be called Tequila, it must to have been produced from 100% Blue Agave. Both Mezcal and Tequila are made from the juicy, pulpy base of the Agave plant, which resembles a large pineapple and from which the succulent leaves grow. I was told that the plants mature in seven to ten years. When mature the leaves are cleaved from the pineapple with machetes; the pineapple is removed, trimmed, heated for a time; pulped, fermented, and distilled; and that which will become the more expensive stuff is placed in barrels, which impart colors and flavors that intensify over time. The four year old Mezcal is quite dark and very flavorful. The clear stuff may have been produced last week.

I was told by the fellow at La Casa de Mezcal in Oaxaca that worms are placed in Mezcal bottles as a marketing gimmick which apparently works in the gringo market, and that Mexican do not include worms in their blends. The only place I’ve seen Mezcal with worms is in tourist areas.

OK. I’m reaady to pass judgement. Puerto Escondido is the best beach town I’ve visted.

For your reference I can report I’ve visted a number of Dalmatian and USA beach towns, a number of North Yucatan beach towns, Cabo, Cancun, Ixtapa, Playa Baracoa Cuba and probably others I’ve forgotten.