shout out to Phil

I just had to post on the Blog a congrats and encourage all of you to check out mi amigo Phil Vandervort on his new talk show.

Tune in (for the Seattle folks) to Kiro 710 am (hopefully you all are more current than I am who DOESN'T have am at the homefront-do people still use antennas, rabbit ears?) on Sundays from 4-7pm. He will be hosting his own show.

Bueno mi amigo Phil...

Only in Mexico...

Only in Mexico do you see, hear, experience:

-random trucks delivering water, gas, fruit, vegetables, plants, fish, hardware, anything you may want. You can hear the trucks long before they approach, the loudspeakers mounted to the top of the vehicle belting out some sort of crappy sing-song type of music while the driver interjects every now and again, "sin gas" or "agua" or "camorones, pescado, dorado". And if you are so in need of any one of these items you run outside with money in hand. Apparently anything can be delivered in mexico, anything. I've only gotten the gas and the water.

-the smell of something burning, constantly. In mexico they burn everything from garbage to their pile of grass clippings. You can walk down the street and in the middle will be a pile of rubbish with smoke billowing upwards. At first being the concerned person, I thought "fire" and should I run to get a hose. But that thought quickly subsided when I saw someone come and throw more rubbish onto the pile. It is no wonder I see random fires buring in this grand country...fire control is not in existence!

-dogs showing up in your backyard. Every day I seem to have a new dog friend. Sometimes there will be 3 or so just sitting there waiting for some attention or love or just to check out the "new dog on the block". Sometimes they stay overnight, sometimes they continue wondering about.

-the ability to live across the street from a master "gallo" breeder. Gallo being cocks. Get your heads out of the gutters people, this isn't Aurora Avenue. No, the cocks, being roosters raised to cock fight. So cages and cages are stacked with cocks and every now and again a random man will show up with his cock (sweet jesus, this does sound a little risque) to challenge my neighbors cock to a small little pre-fight.

-unplanned bus stops. If you flag a bus, it will stop. If you want to catch a bus to the next town and it only travels along the highway, you just go up and sit on the highway and wait and then wave it down as it approaches. This is how most people travel. But, if you miss your bus as it goes by to fast, it may not be uncommon to be offered a ride by a passing car. They whistle, you give the correct hand signal and then you communicate to see where each is going. If they are going to your selected destination you climb on in. It is perfectly harmless, and again, very common. I was offered three rides when walking down the road from the highway the other day. Of course, I declined as I think it is not a habit that a woman should get into being that I have a car and that I have promised so many people that I will remain safe. Plus I thought my bean eating, tortilla having body could use a bit of exercise.

-and one of my favorites, change or cambio. If a particular vendor doesn't have enough cambio to give you they may offer you something off of their cart or truck instead. For instance I was buying fruita the other day and the guy didn't have 2 pesos to give me for change, he offered me three oranges instead. Which I gladly took! Ahh, only in Mexico...

I stand corrected.

I stand corrected in me saying that all is well with mi perra. I finally found my little dog last night, perro as I am calling him, and brought him back home with me. Thankfully the bleeding has stopped but he still has a problem breathing. So after feeding him, I walked the dogs down the street for a little evening stroll. I got back home and was changing when Maddie ran from the back door out to the street barking. Little perro followed her. Since you can't see anything from the back door I figured it must be some sort of farm animal that she could hear. She was barking as if it was threatening. So running after her and yelling for her to come back, I stepped around the wall and onto the street (it is about 80 feet from the back door to the street) that is when I say the hombre hitting Maddie with his machette. He may have hit her before, I was unsure since I couldn't see. I quickly grabbed her and started yelling at him, No Senior over and over at the top of my lungs, with anger in my voice. At this point I wasn't sure if I was going to hit him or what. All sorts of Spanish and English words were being thrown out, I was furious.

I have been very respectful to the Mexicans, and know their dislike (and quite honestly fear) of dogs. But hitting a dog that is barking with a machette is beyond understandable to me and all of my respect flew out the window. I spit. I cursed. I yelled at him, ¨does this make you more of a man, slicing a dog with your machette, afraid of a dog barking at you¨of course I didn't know how to say it in Spanish, but if I did I would have told him ¨next time you touch my dog, I will kill you¨. And I would mean it. After taking Madison back inside I realized I had blood all over my legs as he had hit her in her nozzle. I quickly grabbed my pepper spray from the car and was ready to do battle with this estupido hombre, but he was gone. But my little ¨perro¨was sitting at the gate growling and standing guard. He was watching out for me and Maddie. I realize that she should not have been barking at him, and that he may have thought she was going to bite him. I understand that, she can intimidate people. But I was also there yelling out her name, and Gabby the gal across the street was telling him, the dog won't bite you. And still he hit her, with a machette none the less.

He also cursed me and said something to the affect of hitting me. I dare him too. Mexico hardens you. Even though I was tough before, my spirit is even more so as the fight or flight has just left me with fight.

This morning I spoke to Gabby who apologized over and over and said she was sorry but he was a barracho (drunk). He was looking for her husband and she had told him to leave but he was drunk. I felt bad for her as she seemed to accept the blame.

And at the beach I met an American who may be famous (not sure but he looks familiar) and I told him my story and he said more than once he has told an hombre who has pulled a machette on his dogs that he too will kill him. He said I did the right thing. And his dogs are big black German Shepards, no small contenders.

Madison is ok today, just a little scared I think. But she seems to be in good spirits and thankfully isn't now afraid of any Mexican man she meets. That was my next fear, barking at every hombre she meets.

Pappa will be here soon (my friends boyfriend) and he loves Madison unconditionally. He won't let anyone touch her regardless of if they are wielding a cuchillo or not. So I know she will be well taken care of. In the meantime, if I find out where this man lives, I may have to leave a pile of dog crap on his doorstep every morning. Childless, but well worth it in my book. Why isn't the glorious CESEAR DOG EXTRADIONAR teaching people in his own country that beating a dog is no way to raise a dog.

Dogs, dogs, dogs

The dog thing is starting to get to me here in Mexico. I don't mean my perra, she is fine. She is becoming more acclimated to different living situations, random dogs sniffing her out both in packs and solo, and the random happenings on a given day. Overall, most people give her plenty of attention and love. In fact, the only person who was somewhat mean to her was a tall, ugly, cheap bastard from Spokane. He hit her out of his way in Mazatlan. Thankfully she didn't get it.

No, I am talking about the heartache of some Mexican dogs. As many of you can well imagine, the dogs like me. They have a tendency to follow me when walking and take up with me rather nicely. Many will bark as Maddie and I pass on by but as soon as I say callente they quiet down and come check us out. It is not uncommon to pass a dog on the side of the road limping, most likely from being hit by a car. Matthew and I passed one in San Blas that obviously wasn't going to live much longer as it was badly hurt and sat by the road trying desperately to sit down in the hot sun. I wanted to go back and scoop that dog up but knew that I can't save all the dogs in Mexico. His reply was not to look...but sometimes I just can't help it.

So last night as I was walking up to the tienda to get a chocolate milk (from the lady that rips the Americans off-that for another blog), a small mixed dog joins our pack. At first I think that he is growling everytime Madison comes near him, as does Maddie. But then I realize he is just snorting or something of the like. He waits patiently with Maddie outside of the store and then proceeds with us home. And follows us into the backyard. I keep telling him to go home but he keeps coming back. Thats when I realize that there is blood coming out of his nose. And the noise he is making is some sort of clog in his throat and nose area. So of course I can no longer send him on his way but needed to tend to his wound. Most likely given to him by someone that hit him on the head. I gave him some food which he ate with quickness, and continually wiped the blood from his nose. I would not let him in the house so he curled up at the back door. I made him a bed from my beach towel and let him stay the night. All night I worried about him so randomly would check on him to make sure he was still breathing. The last thing I wanted to deal with was waking up to a dead dog. Thankfully in the morning he stretched and looked a little healthier and a heck of a lot happier, although the blood still seems to be coming a bit. I took him walking with us to the beach and he played like a little pup, chasing the birds and playing with the other dogs. I ended up losing him, but shall see if he comes back ¨home¨, if so, he may need to be given another home...anyone looking for a sweet male dog, 40 lbs or so? I could get him back to the states in the middle of February. But more on that later.

In all, I hope the further south I go where things aren't quite as Americanized and people are even more cruel to the perros, I don't end up with a pack of dogs begging for my attention and love. My car is just not big enough for all of the hurt, unkempt dogs. Although my heart is.

Ciao San Blas

Ok, so I didn't learn how to surf, and I didn't get to go on the jungle boat cruise while in San Blas but I did get to master my hammack skills, and gracefully navigate the back road I lived on and not fall into the pile of rubbish that lined the street.

Even though I was actually in San Blas for two weeks, it seemed like two days. This seems hard to believe since I didn't really do much. But that is the beauty of Mexico, you can easily not do much and the people around you won't wonder why you are such a ¨lazy ass¨. Mexicans work a lot harder than we give them credit for, however they are a lot slower at what they do. Whatever it is that they may be doing. For instance, most of the small towns I have moved into my bike becomes my main mode of transportation. And as I don my ipod on and ride down the street, I feel like I must be traveling about 35 mph. Because in comparison to the Mexicans on bikes, I am. I pass every single one of them. At whipping spéed. Or when sweeping, or shopping, or even eating. All seemed to be done in a hurried panic in comparison to those that live here. Things run on a different time clock. However, in contrast to all of that slowness, Mexicans still drive incredibly fast. If a speed limit is 45 mph, they will drive 70 (providing their car can do so). It seems somewhat ironic that for a culture where time is very loose, you can never trust that when someone says to meet at noon, that they will actually be there at noon, they still drive so fast? And endanger their lives so, I just don't understand it. But my job is not to understand it, just observe and become as they are if I so desire.

So back to San Blas, this town is not for everyone. It has some beautiful attributes and some annoying ones. Like the jejens (pronouncied heyhens). They are small bugs that eat you alive. If one was to see my legs you would understand, I have about 100 bites just on the lower portion of my body. So bug spray is more commonly used than deordant. You put it on morning, noon and night. You put it on to go to sleep. But the beautiful side is that this keeps massive amounts of tourists away, and allows San Blas to remain funky, cheap, and a little more Mexican for a beach town. It is situated near an estuary so you have jungles, and waterways and massive amounts of bananas. Oh, I just had to mention the bananas again...my love of course.
It also has miles of sand and surf. You can drive 15 minutes away to the next little town and sit by yourself on the beach and have beers and ceviche for pennies. You can find restaurants where dinner my cost you 35 pesos - which is what Matt and I paid for a total of 5 enchilada's and 1 fonta. Or you can sit at the counter of a luncherida and pay 20 pesos for a liquada full of yaka, banana, strawberries, and so on.
And the people you meet all seem to have something in common with you. The ability to ignore the bugs, and to openly accept you into their group. Quickly you know people, and they know you. Twice I took my laundry to the launderia, the first time I wrote my name on the huge bag, the second time, the gal said, ¨I´ll see you at 5 Heidi¨. Amazing. I'll miss the friends I made; Matthew, Ginny, Gary, Chris, Dave and Trilby (can't get enough of these people) and so on. And I'll miss the slow waves crashing on the beach...and of course all the good meals made for my both by Ginny and Matt.

But the travels must go on. And so they have.

Beach party

Apparently the girl with the beach house has to have a beach party. Or, so I have been told. So tomorrow afternoon everyone that Ginny, the gal from Seattle, sees she tells to come over. Imagine that, less than a week here and I am already having a beach party....complete with beach ball and good food to boot. Oh, and a couple of drinks...apparently the boys will all be in charge of that though.

It has been great meeting Ginny as she has introduced me to all sorts of peeps. I walked into her restaurant last night and knew about half of the crowd there. How is that for quick social skills? And she and a couple of others have already planned a trip down to see me in Sayulita (my next destination) for a couple of days.

Sometimes she just will show up at the beach house with her pathfinder full of boogie boards and say, c'mon time to hit the waves. I can see how having a beach house could be addicting whether in San Blas or Laguna. Maybe MTV would like to make a reality show about me and my beach house. Quite fun I say. However my unemployed status would make it difficult to keep up the rent on a beach house for very long, it still is a good dream!

I'm going to attempt to learn how to surf on Tuesday, wish me luck with that! I hear there is a massage therapist at the surf camp, I will probably be in dire need. But the waves are not big here and the beach is complete sand so I am hoping the ride isn't too rough for me.

Yesterday I rode into town and hit the Saturday market, also known by me as the swap meet. You can buy everything you would need there from jeans, to knives (I did purchase one of those) to laundry detergant, shampoo and vegetables. I would liken it to the swap meet down south of Seattle. Although I am sure many of you reading this have never been, but if you have you would understand.

Today, being Sunday and all, I am taking it easy. Maybe it has something to do with the margy's I had last night...? Oh wait, I guess being in Mexico I have been taking it easy, real easy.

My best to all of you, and to the Seahawks...

San Blas...Nayarit...Mexico

After leaving santa maria del oro, and not being able to go to guadalajara I made a rash decision to head to san blas. It is about 2 hours from puerto vallarta and I do have to be there on Jan 19th. I had no housing, only hopes and a contact that I had made who owns a bunch of bungalows.

I pull in to the town, and start looking for the La Quinta California bungalows. But upon getting lost, a woman stops me and says "you are from Washington, where". It turns out she too is from Seattle, but she and her husband and daughter leave down here full time. She owns an Italian restaurnt in town. I tell her that I'm looking for housing and she says come with me to the beach, she has a friend looking for a house sitter. Amazing I thought.

So I follow her down and spend the afternoon with a bunch of her friends at the Stoners Surf camp and then she takes me to meet her friend. Unfortunately he is looking for someone for two months, which I can't do, but it was nice to make the contact. Afterwards I go to see Chris from the bungalows and as it turns out he has a great house that I can rent for two weeks. I see it, and take it. It is 300 feet from the beach, has a great kitchen and is very private with lots of locks and gates. Maddie can bark as much as she wants. I love it. And it is very cute inside.

Now I have begun getting to know the town. Finding the markets. Finding the laundry and getting to know the local sites, coffee plantations, jungles, and of course SURFING. But I am very comfortable, and very safe! And very content.

There is a lot of friendly people in town and lots of local delights. Such as banana bread pudding. It is the best bread pudding I have ever had. There is a certain woman that has the best, so while she walks the "ramada's" the beach palapas I flag her down to get a huge slice for 10 pesos or about a dollar. Bananas are a big deal here so you can find all sorts of banana items from yogurts with bananas to chocolate chip banana bread. And for anyone that has known me for a long time knows, I love my bananas! You can also get fresh roasted peanuts, and pepitas (pumpkin seeds) from the "beach shopping network" as Virgina or giny calls it. She is the gal from Seattle who owns the restaurant and I sometimes meet up with her for a couple of beers and antojitos at the stoner surf camp. She has kindly showed me all sorts of great places and given me maps to others.

As for my safety. It is well taken care of. There is actual a military base here (seems ironic huh, who has heard of the Mexican army) but they have a small force. And every morning att 7am they run the beach, in unison with their white shirts and red shorts. The first morning I saw them I thought while looking around, is this "Platoon" or "An Officer and a Gentlemen" i half expected to hear someone yell out "cut". But as the soliders ran by in unison they all looked over at me, so out of habit I said "hola" and in unison they all said hola back. I guess a little more lax than our military...

I should go now, I must hit the meat market for a couple of food items.

Oh, and one more thing, the house comes with a cell phone. So if anyone wants to call the number is 31-11-10-91-57. To call out of country you must dial 011 then the 10 digit number. Don't leave a message, I would never be able to figure out how to retrieve it.

Adios. And I promise to be safe(r)

Santa Maria - oh where are you

Felize Ano Nuevo por todo!

The last week has been interesting and a bit precarious for both the dog and myself.

I'll begin with Maddie, the poor dog has had a bit of a hard week. It began with a tooth problem. One day at the beach, in Mazatlan, I was talking to a man whom I befriended over the last couple of days. He and his wife are from Oregon and he is an electrical engineer, so interesting enough for me to talk with. While talking, his wife seeing me throw rocks for the dog, decided to take over. The only problem was she threw them at her and one hit her in one of the canine teeth. Over the next couple of days the tooth turned a little pink as though there is blood inside but it still seems to be attached and she stills seems to eat with it, so I am assuming that it will stay in. I hear that dental is cheap here in Mexico, I just didn't expect to be doing any of it for the dog. To boot, Madison also seemed to get a bladder infection or something, probably from the salt water. So she constantly had to go to the bathroom and by the end of the day there would be a little blood in her urine. You have to be careful of the saltwater, particularly if they drink any of it, because it can be bad for the kidneys. So now I keep a watchful eye on her and make sure she has plenty of drinking water nearby. And then after arriving in La laguna de Santa Maria and meeting some of the neighborhood dogs, they decided they didn't like her so every morning as we went for a walk, they would come out and bite her. I finally began carrying a stick and would scare them off. She is getting acclimated to the fact that some dogs like her and some don't - those that don't will bite!

As for my arrival into santa maria, it is a beautiful lake in the middle of a very old inactive volcano. The water is warm, and clean, and in the past ten years or so the land has been purchased by wealthy mexicans who build vacation homes there. There were many ski boats, ski-nautics and such and every morning there would be a plentitude of wake boarders out on the lake. It seemed like I was in anywhere USA not Mexico. I ended up staying there for 6 days, a little long and out of my plan but unfortunately I was told on the 29th that my housing fell through in Guadalajara so that put me in a bind being the holidays and all. So, I stayed. The place was ok enough, very loud, and people don't seem to have any respect to your privacy but that is something I'm coming to realize about Mexico. Your space is their space. So people singing until 5 am was not uncommon.

I ask that no mother figure - my mom, my tias, and Mary R read further because you will have a heart attack but a story worth telling. Someone check on my mom and make sure she doesn't have cardiac problems...

So after my third night I had to stay in my tent for a couple of nights due to the fact that the place was all booked up. It wasn't a problem for me, in fact camping would have saved me a ton of money and was just as comfortable and I was doing all my cooking on my stove anyways. So I set my tent out near a couple of other tenters, who ended up leaving that same day. No worries I thought there was a family of 30 about 100 feet away from me. So, being that it got pretty cold at night, 40's, I set into sleep about 9.30 the first night. Around 1.30am I was snug as a bug and dreaming about someone saying hola every so quietly...and then I heard the dog let out a low little growl bark and I realized it was no dream. And again I heard it hola... hola... hola. And I yelled out, GET OUT OF HERE. Then proceeded to let the dog out and said, go find him. And she did, hiding in the bushes next to the bathroom. I told him, the dog bites men, and he ran. I told her to follow him, my heart pounding. I then ran and grabbed my camera and the ever thankful mace John gave me. And every time the barracho, drunk, came back I would try and take a picture of him and send the dog to find him. This went on for some time, but the hunted became the hunter. I was furious that this guy thought he could do this to me, or anyone. So I played his game, but much better. Since he was so drunk and I wasn't I would hide, waiting for him and then jump out to take a picture. I wanted proof as to who he was. And he didn't want his picture taken by any means. And the dog could find him in an instant when told to. Finally he stumbled into a trailer and didn't come back to bother me. I had made my point to him, loud and clear. In fact the next morning I stalked him waiting for him to come out of the trailer so I could grab him and turn him in. He ran every time he saw me. Now, I know some of you would say why did I chase him. I had to. I had no-one to help me at night and he kept coming back to the tent so I had to make him fearful of me...and I did. Plus, remember, guns are illegal in Mexico, and drunks are just that drunks. This guy was not a threat to me. And being in the tent was 10 times worse.

I left shortly after that. It confirms that I need to rent houses where Maddie can bark at whoever comes in the door, and me not worry about her offending anyone or annoying anyone as I usually tell her quiet so she becomes a bit immune to it all.

Thank god she can find men hiding in the bushes....