Mexico is so, conflicting I guess I'll say. I think it's a different word- meaning that there are so many conflicting or opposite sides to things. Mexico is so beautiful, yet so harsh. There are soooo many poor people here. I mean I know there's a middle class, I just don't know where they are. Some days it just smacks me right in the face and other days I seem not to see it, or at least I seem not to be affected at times. The other day we were driving somewhere and I saw this young woman, maybe mid 20's, and she was carrying a huge bundle- maybe it was laundry, a baby, and a daughter maybe 8 yrs old holding a toddler by the hand. They did not look upset or anything; in fact the kids looked fine- but the woman looked- not tired but maybe fatigued. I thought-this is her life. No car, probly no job, more kids to come, trudging down a dirt road alongside the traffic. Not looking for a ride or anything, just living. I cried. To myself, just a little...was she happy? Maybe she was, maybe she has no expectations, maybe being a mom- no I can't even write this sentence..being a mom and lugging huge bags along the road with a bunch of kids in tow. Does she live in a nice house? A house? Truthfully, there lots of houses without indoor plumbing. Not sure why she affected me so much. I have seen much worse in Mexico, I have seen much worse here in this part of Mexico. We drove all over Ensenada when we first started coming over here to find a place to live.
It was not unlike the little towns surrounding Morelia, mixtures of a few really nice "grand" places, lots of tiny places along windy roads or up & down hills, storefronts everywhere; people's homes are little grocery stores, restaurants, they sells clothes or shoes or baby accessories. Hot food is for sale everywhere, and so you are always smelling something delicious. And on the back streets are the houses with dirt floors, or no plumbing, or overflowing with too many family members. The disparity between the rich and the poor here is astonishing. There are rich people, poor people, really poor people and the really really poor people.
The place Everardo's sister lives is just a tiny room. It's not too far away from the little town he was born in and lived until he went out on his own at age 9. Yes I said age 9. He is now in his early 50's and she is at least 8-10 years older than him, but looks 20 years older. When we were there she was saving her money to get a place for herself. But the words were...old....like maybe she has been saying it for a long long time. She says it in a tired way. She is a very kind woman, very loving, and I met her adult daughter and son. On their street as well there was fresh made breads for sale and we ate yummy bites of bread and meat and cheese before we went out to the cemetary to visit their mother's grave.
I find out about my husband's early life in bits and pieces. When we were walking with the dogs by the estuary and Sam scared a rabbit out of the brush and then Sam & Hazel gave chase- Hazel runs like the rabbit with short short short and then a long leap that puts out ahead, but the rabbit got away- anyway- Everardo started telling me about hunting squirrels with his girl cousins when he was about 6 years old, and they hunted them to eat. Rabbits and squirrels. After his mom dies when he was about 6, they stayed with their grandma, but there wasn't always enough for them. His cousins, I think their dad went up to the states looking for work, and so all the kids were at grandmas...not sure about their mom, who is the aunt Everardo is close to in Calif now. Poppi was the youngest with his big sister trying to be a mom, and she could have only been a teenager when they became orphans. I think I wrote this back when we visited Morelia about a year and a half ago, but I met his brother Pablo, and Pablo cried and told me they (his other brother and his sister) didn't take good care of him. He's a very very sweet man, so loving and Poppi loves him very much, and doesn't blame anyone for his childhood. When he was 9, he left that tiny town and went to Morelia and he and I sat in the square drinking coffee where he shined shoes as a 9 yr old to get money to eat. Slept wherever he could. Then he got with a guy who took him to work in the fields, and he grew up doing that. Working in the fields, sleeping in tents or outside; he said he always ate good, that they were always fed in the fields, sometimes they were paid in sacks of corn or beans. When he was 16 he made his way up to the United States, to Gilroy, where his aunt and uncle were. He worked in the fields there as well, with his aunt. His cousins came and they went to school, but he never did. He taught himself to read and write in English, when he was in jail. I'm not sure how/when he learned to read and write in Spanish. He was the girls- who in my mind-and theirs, too I believe- big brother. He protected them from bullies in school, things like that. I see how much they love him. He talks to his aunt on the phone every few days, and one, Anna has been to visit us twice since we've been to Mexico. Now that we're in Baja she says we'll see alot more of them, and i know he likes that.
He is a beautiful man. He has had a hard life, and as a young man made some bad decisions and made his life harder ha ha....yeah he had his cousins for a family, but he still felt alone in some ways. He always refused help, from anyone for anything. I think the one thing he could control in his life was taking care of himself- and I think this without ever talking to him about it- but it kinda fits. He did get into some trouble that landed him in jail- and that was drugs. I kinda understand that as well...tough guy doesn't need anyone- but I know that's not true- we all need love, people around us loving us. He has turned out to be an amazing, caring, loving man. Even when he was homeless living under a bridge- (when I met him)- he was sober, but trying to help the drunks and addicts around him. Cooking for them, bringing them food. He had nothing and yet he gave what he had. He found work in construction, he showered at the gym, and he helped this poor wretches- but saw himself as fortunate...
So all this about my hubby- well it started out as an example of how I see alot of people here. That they have nothing, so their expectations are low. I see people with nothing, but they are happy. Not everyone of course, but a lot of people. I see people proud of their children; wanting them to better off than they were/are. My husband could be bitter, disgusted, and only out for himself, but he is not. He loves his Mexico, and his people. He has patience....I wish I had that kind of patience. But again, sometimes it seems to be low expectations. I get frustrated here.....20 checkout lanes in a store with only 2 registers open and 50 people in line. Nobody complains (except me). The bank will not replace his debit card with his name on it- we can only get one with his name on it if we go down to Guerrero where we opened the account! The top of my head almost blew off! If we open another account here he can have one.....but to close our current account....yep gotta go to Guerrero. Now my head is spinning around and my eyes are bulging out! But then they gave him a card with a chip in it so when we go to the store and they swipe it, his name shows on their screen...hmmm ok. Ha ha I have to stay out of the telephone company because after a similar, ridiculous scenario in there (I won't bore you with the details) I got mad and started yelling...so it's better for everyone if I just don't go in. Ha ha but I remember hating AT&T, too, so hating utilities is not country specific!
So it's an interesting life. Sometimes I pay the "gringo tax"- things become twice as much for me, so I have to ask Everardo to go and buy it for me. Sometimes, because I live in an area with a lot of expats, the expats charge us more.ha ha so you can't win for losin'. But then I come home and look at the ocean. I sit in the breeze and watch the birds. It's quiet here, and my dogs run free. Our rent is really cheap and we don't pay water or garbage. Going to the doctor or dentist is affordable. Of course that just makes me madder and madder at the U.S, for getting cheated ALWAYS with health care, insurance, etc. Oh yeah- and car insurance? It's about $80 a year...take that AllState! So when we're driving the truck we always give rides to people on the side of the road. We give when we can help (gave a family living in an old rv a fridge) and Everardo chats with everyone wherever we go. I try to, yeah in English I absolutely talk to anyone.everyone everywhere we go...but here it's been a struggle. Especially for independent strong me. Ha ha trying to tell Everardo to yell at the guy at the telephone company or not being able to straighten out the Dish bill....it's all about communication...and for me...poco a poco. Es verdad??
It was not unlike the little towns surrounding Morelia, mixtures of a few really nice "grand" places, lots of tiny places along windy roads or up & down hills, storefronts everywhere; people's homes are little grocery stores, restaurants, they sells clothes or shoes or baby accessories. Hot food is for sale everywhere, and so you are always smelling something delicious. And on the back streets are the houses with dirt floors, or no plumbing, or overflowing with too many family members. The disparity between the rich and the poor here is astonishing. There are rich people, poor people, really poor people and the really really poor people.
The place Everardo's sister lives is just a tiny room. It's not too far away from the little town he was born in and lived until he went out on his own at age 9. Yes I said age 9. He is now in his early 50's and she is at least 8-10 years older than him, but looks 20 years older. When we were there she was saving her money to get a place for herself. But the words were...old....like maybe she has been saying it for a long long time. She says it in a tired way. She is a very kind woman, very loving, and I met her adult daughter and son. On their street as well there was fresh made breads for sale and we ate yummy bites of bread and meat and cheese before we went out to the cemetary to visit their mother's grave.
I find out about my husband's early life in bits and pieces. When we were walking with the dogs by the estuary and Sam scared a rabbit out of the brush and then Sam & Hazel gave chase- Hazel runs like the rabbit with short short short and then a long leap that puts out ahead, but the rabbit got away- anyway- Everardo started telling me about hunting squirrels with his girl cousins when he was about 6 years old, and they hunted them to eat. Rabbits and squirrels. After his mom dies when he was about 6, they stayed with their grandma, but there wasn't always enough for them. His cousins, I think their dad went up to the states looking for work, and so all the kids were at grandmas...not sure about their mom, who is the aunt Everardo is close to in Calif now. Poppi was the youngest with his big sister trying to be a mom, and she could have only been a teenager when they became orphans. I think I wrote this back when we visited Morelia about a year and a half ago, but I met his brother Pablo, and Pablo cried and told me they (his other brother and his sister) didn't take good care of him. He's a very very sweet man, so loving and Poppi loves him very much, and doesn't blame anyone for his childhood. When he was 9, he left that tiny town and went to Morelia and he and I sat in the square drinking coffee where he shined shoes as a 9 yr old to get money to eat. Slept wherever he could. Then he got with a guy who took him to work in the fields, and he grew up doing that. Working in the fields, sleeping in tents or outside; he said he always ate good, that they were always fed in the fields, sometimes they were paid in sacks of corn or beans. When he was 16 he made his way up to the United States, to Gilroy, where his aunt and uncle were. He worked in the fields there as well, with his aunt. His cousins came and they went to school, but he never did. He taught himself to read and write in English, when he was in jail. I'm not sure how/when he learned to read and write in Spanish. He was the girls- who in my mind-and theirs, too I believe- big brother. He protected them from bullies in school, things like that. I see how much they love him. He talks to his aunt on the phone every few days, and one, Anna has been to visit us twice since we've been to Mexico. Now that we're in Baja she says we'll see alot more of them, and i know he likes that.
He is a beautiful man. He has had a hard life, and as a young man made some bad decisions and made his life harder ha ha....yeah he had his cousins for a family, but he still felt alone in some ways. He always refused help, from anyone for anything. I think the one thing he could control in his life was taking care of himself- and I think this without ever talking to him about it- but it kinda fits. He did get into some trouble that landed him in jail- and that was drugs. I kinda understand that as well...tough guy doesn't need anyone- but I know that's not true- we all need love, people around us loving us. He has turned out to be an amazing, caring, loving man. Even when he was homeless living under a bridge- (when I met him)- he was sober, but trying to help the drunks and addicts around him. Cooking for them, bringing them food. He had nothing and yet he gave what he had. He found work in construction, he showered at the gym, and he helped this poor wretches- but saw himself as fortunate...
So all this about my hubby- well it started out as an example of how I see alot of people here. That they have nothing, so their expectations are low. I see people with nothing, but they are happy. Not everyone of course, but a lot of people. I see people proud of their children; wanting them to better off than they were/are. My husband could be bitter, disgusted, and only out for himself, but he is not. He loves his Mexico, and his people. He has patience....I wish I had that kind of patience. But again, sometimes it seems to be low expectations. I get frustrated here.....20 checkout lanes in a store with only 2 registers open and 50 people in line. Nobody complains (except me). The bank will not replace his debit card with his name on it- we can only get one with his name on it if we go down to Guerrero where we opened the account! The top of my head almost blew off! If we open another account here he can have one.....but to close our current account....yep gotta go to Guerrero. Now my head is spinning around and my eyes are bulging out! But then they gave him a card with a chip in it so when we go to the store and they swipe it, his name shows on their screen...hmmm ok. Ha ha I have to stay out of the telephone company because after a similar, ridiculous scenario in there (I won't bore you with the details) I got mad and started yelling...so it's better for everyone if I just don't go in. Ha ha but I remember hating AT&T, too, so hating utilities is not country specific!
So it's an interesting life. Sometimes I pay the "gringo tax"- things become twice as much for me, so I have to ask Everardo to go and buy it for me. Sometimes, because I live in an area with a lot of expats, the expats charge us more.ha ha so you can't win for losin'. But then I come home and look at the ocean. I sit in the breeze and watch the birds. It's quiet here, and my dogs run free. Our rent is really cheap and we don't pay water or garbage. Going to the doctor or dentist is affordable. Of course that just makes me madder and madder at the U.S, for getting cheated ALWAYS with health care, insurance, etc. Oh yeah- and car insurance? It's about $80 a year...take that AllState! So when we're driving the truck we always give rides to people on the side of the road. We give when we can help (gave a family living in an old rv a fridge) and Everardo chats with everyone wherever we go. I try to, yeah in English I absolutely talk to anyone.everyone everywhere we go...but here it's been a struggle. Especially for independent strong me. Ha ha trying to tell Everardo to yell at the guy at the telephone company or not being able to straighten out the Dish bill....it's all about communication...and for me...poco a poco. Es verdad??
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