A Romp around the Lake, A Day at the Beach and Sunday Night in Chapala

As you may recall, our first intrepid visitor from the States, Kent, arrived last week.  To provide context, our travels with Kent have never been uneventful.  Lost with a broken down car in a California wilderness area known for its extensive pot harvest and unfriendly pot farmers, numerous unsuccessful attempts to find Black Beach in San Diego and invariably ending up on the 18th hole of the same golf course... well, you get the picture. So, why should Mexico be any different?

Since May, all has been calm in our little corner of the world.  The cartel folk went on summer vacation, no violent demonstrations after the election, no natural disasters...perfecto.  Until Kent arrived.  Our first outing was a trip to the other side of the lake so that Kent could view our little village from afar.  It was a beautiful day (of course) and when we reached San Luis Soyatlan we were having such a grand time that we decided we would just keep going for the full circumlocution of the lake.  This proved to be arduous on many levels.  One:  While the lake is 50 miles long, the road that encircles it is significantly longer.  Try five hours of driving; Two:  You drive through Michoacan.  Unlike Jalisco state, Michoacan is experiencing significant conflict vis a vis the cartels;  Three:  Just when you think the end of the road may be in sight, the road turns into a convoluted, cobblestoned, single lane horror perched hundreds of feet above the lake with sheer drop-offs (phobia #1).  All in all, a day to remember.  Quotes from Kent:  "So, how long is this lake again?",  "Is it pretty normal to see all these Federal Police wearing ski masks and toting gigantic guns flying down the road like this?"  "Do you think I ought to get out and pry those kids off the bumper?  It doesn't seem safe." We pulled into Casa Searles tired, but content that we had exposed our guest to the broad spectrum of life around the lake.

Kent had specifically requested that, if possible, we take a trip to the Pacific Coast since he had not been south of San Diego.  Michael and I pointed out that it was really very hot at the Coast at this time of year but Kent gamely replied: "I live in Austin.  How hot can it be?"  We drove in air conditioned comfort through the mountains, descended to the palm and banana plantations and ultimately arrived at La Manzanilla -- a small fishing village an hour north of Manzanillo.  Kent threw open the car door, stepped out and said: "Oh, my God!  The humidity! Excruciating! I had no idea!"  This is a common reaction to the Mexican beach in summer.  We joined the other twenty or so vacationers demented enough to seek out a holiday in the equivalent of the eighth circle of Hell.

It was so hot (how hot was it?) that we couldn't bring ourselves to walk the four block length of town seeking a restaurant open in the depths of the off season.  From the car, we could spot no open restaurant but did see two gringo-looking people in the distance.  We pulled over and asked for a recommendation. As so often happens in Mexico, the couple was very friendly and pointed us to the restaurant they were headed to.  We met up with them there and continued our conversation.  The woman said, "You have GOT to see their little tejon!"  Dogs are very welcome in most restaurants here but this was the first time that we had a waiter come to the table with a small, yet obviously wild creature, draped over his arm.  How to describe it?  Well, I wish we had a picture but it was pitch dark in this restaurant and our best attempts to capture it photographically failed.  Picture a raccoon and shrink it by 50 percent.  Think coatamundi but a little different.  Anteater nose, kind of.  Seemingly docile, but really sharp claws.  Can kill a cat, if so inclined, when full grown. The locals find these guys abandoned or orphaned as  babies and raise them until they hit adolescence.  At adolescence they become as unmanageable as the human variant and are set free in the hills.  The Pizza was great.  The conversation was great.  The tejon was...kind of cute.

In addition to its other charms, La Mazanilla boasts a refuge for caimans (you know, like alligators but with the pointed snout).  Phobia #4: Reptiles and Amphibians.  Needless to say, Kent and Michael insisted on a visit to the refuge first thing the next morning.  I would say that, at best, the owners of the refuge were casual about security.  For instance, the chain link fence had large areas where you could enter (and very probably, they could exit).  Michael and Kent were through that fence like a shot, onto the boardwalk and suspension bridge (I really didn't like that part) and observing nature up close and personal.  I, on the other hand, was cringing atop a parapet in a beach restaurant about 200 feet away.  This allowed me to observe what I felt was a real insight into how Mexicans regard risk versus Americans.  I am standing at a beach bar/restaurant where obviously people swim.  Probably less than 300 feet away is a caiman reserve which does not appear to have anything to prohibit these behemoths from taking a little swim out to perhaps munch your toddler.  This configuration of swimming beach and caiman reserve would not occur in New Jersey.  Now what I don't know about caimans is staggering.  Maybe they won't go past waves.  Or maybe they will.  Maybe they need brackish water only and shun salt.  Or not.  I do know that having seen what I have seen, I will not be swimming at La Manzanilla anytime soon.  With shirts clinging soggily, we decided one night at the beach was more than enough and staged a strategic retreat to the mountains the following day.

Somewhat constantly interfering with our plans to expose Kent to more life threatening situations was the ongoing drama of our outdoor furniture deliveries.  How long can it take to find, buy and have some furniture delivered?  It turns out to be one and a half months.  Finally, the last delivery was scheduled to arrive from Tonala between 4-6 on Saturday afternoon.  At 4:30 I get a call.  It is in Spanish which is not my preferred language for phone calls in that I understand almost nothing usually. But, on that day, I could pick out several key words and phrases including: emergencia, policia, barricadas, hombres malos, incendios, no puedo manejar.  Yes, damn it.  Another delay because those pesky cartels are annoyed that the police have had the nerve to have a shoot out with some of their guys.  In response, they have barricaded roads into Guadalajara and set fire to buses and trucks (not with people in them) to register their displeasure. So, the furniture guy can't deliver.  We set it up for the next day, Sunday, at 4-6.

Six o'clock comes and goes with no delivery and we have to leave to meet friends for drinks and dinner (priorities, priorities).  A margarita or so later, we saunter down to the Malecon in Chapala where we will dine.  Now, on Sunday, the Malecon in Chapala is packed with literally a thousand or more people.  It is the go to place.  As we approach the seawall, I notice a guy who looks familiar and say to Michael "Hey, do we know that guy?"  Michael says,"Duh... It's the furniture guy!"  Turns out, he showed up at our place at 6:10 -- just missed him.  He was not at all put out... and surprisingly neither was I.  He had just decided that we probably went to dinner so he, and his whole family, came down to Chapala to chill, have dinner and try to deliver later.  We agreed to meet at 10PM back at our place and sure enough he was there on the dot.  Not often do you get furniture delivered at 10PM Sunday in the States.

Sunday night at the Chapala malecon.  I do believe even Kent, intrepid traveler that he is, was taken a bit aback.  Here's what you see: hundreds of families picnicking, strolling, swimming etc.; bands, many featuring tubas, battling each other for prime real estate; vendors selling almost anything you can imagine; a troop of horsemen performing dressage (they would never use a sissy word like that) amidst the crowd; skateboarders; dogs snatching left overs or unattended picnic fixings; teenage couples draped over one another and more, much more.  Our gringo senses were overloaded by 9:30 and we fled.  Our furniture delivery guy and his family were headed back to the Malecon for many more hours of fun at 10:30.

It was a great week.  We're regrouping this weekend and then we are off to our Colonial City jaunt with Stanley and Luzma.  Upon our return, the Globos Festival occurs on Saturday, September 8th.  At this event, local towns folk create small hot air balloons out of tissue paper and set them free.  I think over the Lake.  There is quite a risk of fire which is why they do it during rainy season, we conjecture.  Should have more fodder for the blog fire by this time next week.  Take care.

Cobblestone road around Lake Chapala

Looking down to village & Lake Chapala from road

Grazing cows by the road

Sunset at La Manzanilla

Beach at La Manzanilla

Caiman in the reserve

Ten foot caiman in the reserve

Deirdre from her safe vantage point looking for stray caimans

Church at Mazamitla (an alpine village in Mexico)

View across the plaza at Mazamitla

El Circo is Coming To Town

El Circo Americano - Well not really.

As I was returning from yet another disturbing trip to Soriana (the department store that has nothing) and was headed through downtown Chapala, I was assaulted by the sound of honking horns and multiple speakerphone announcements in rapid (and to me unfathomable) Spanish.  I noted that pedestrians had flocked to curbside and were peering inquisitively down the street.  And then I saw it.

A giant red truck with huge letters spelling out El Circo Americano.  The circus was coming to town!  Now you are envisioning the red cages with the flowery lettering and the requisite lions and tigers.  The elephants trunk to tail.  The exquisite white horses with the plumes.  Nope.  Not here.  In lieu of red circus wagons, there were white trailers used to haul -- well, I don't really know what but circus animals would not have been my first guess.  And what circus animals they were!  Llamas.  Many, many llamas.  A camel (looking very weary) co-habitating with a shetland pony.  Several mismatched horses. There were dogs running alongside the procession but it was Chapala so it's hard to say if they were part of the circus or just part of Chapala.  Inexplicably, a propane truck had somehow incorporated itself into the circus procession and it seized the moment by tooting its horn raucously while the driver and assistant waved and smiled at the crowd.  And then I saw it.  The hippo.  A man in the truck pulling the hippo trailer would periodically throw a pail of water on the hippo which it clearly enjoyed as it would open its mouth in delight.

The traffic light turned and I continued my journey puzzling on what possible kind of act they could do with a hippo.  Could you ride it?  Would it dance?  Jumping through flaming hoops seemed out of the question.  I was intrigued but not enough to actually go to the circus to find out.  I mean, I'd read Water for Elephants (remember that fire?) and am well acquainted with the lack of safety regulations in our new homeland.  Going to the circus would be like signing my own death warrant.  So, I reconciled myself to the fact that it would just be another one of those things that remain unknowable in Mexico.  Hippos in the Circus  -- what is their role?

Then, two days later, I had another chance to get up close and personal with the circus.  I was in Jasmine going over my order for a chaise lounge pad and pillows when the now familiar cacophony of the Circus Parade sounded in our little village of Ajijic.  Quickly finishing up business I raced a block to the Carreterra (main road) and the parade had pulled over to the curb so that the denizens could gawk to their hearts content.  I whipped out my cell phone and managed to capture the wonderful shots you see below.  Pleased as punch that I would be able to share this experience with all of you, I rushed home.

Nancy, our housekeeper, was there and I told her all about the Circus parade.  I asked her about the unusual animal selections that the Circus had and she enlightened me, as she so often does, about the realities of life in Mexico.  "Do you know how much meat a lion eats?"  We can only afford llamas in our circuses.  They don't eat much."  I knew I had to ask her.  "Nancy, what does the hippo do in the Circus?"  "Oh, they put a chair on it's back and let the children ride on it like a pony."  "Nancy, Jesus, do you know hippos kill more people in Africa than any other animal?  And they let children ride on hippos here?"  "Well, yes.  There must be some nice hippos because I have never heard of one that killed a child."  Okay, just let it go. Breath in deeply.

Just tried to upload additional photos and realized I had hit the video button on the iPhone.  Apple has an app for everything but idiotic users.  You will have to just imagine the llamas, camel (weary,weary camel) et al.

Quick Notes:

*  Had another party.  This one for Michael's Kayak Club's 1st year anniversary.  About 30 people.  This house is great for parties and this, apparently, is a town that likes to party.

*  Planning a trip to the Colonial Silver Cities with pals Stanley and Luzma.  Luzma is from St. Luis Potosi so it will be like having our own private tour guide.  Should result in some good photos and tales for the blog.  Early September.

*  Heading for the coast for a day or two this week with Kent.  Should be unspeakably hot and humid but, hey that's what the Ocean is for.  Will report on all adventures next week.

Take care and have a good week.  More soon.

Hippo --- at the circus?

Hippo on parade

Four Months In A Strange Land

View of Ajijic from Lake Chapala

Tomorrow will mark our four month anniversary of crossing the border.  To say we have entered into a new phase of life is a cliche while also an understatement.  So, since there are no new bizarre events to report this week, I thought I'd take the opportunity to recap some of the things we like best here, miss most there and other general musings.

Ten Best Things About Living In Mexico:

1)  When you walk down the street EVERYONE says hello and they smile.
     -  There are no acceptable exceptions to this rule in Mexican society.  If I say Buenos Dias even the most surly gang of teenage sulkers will look up, meet my eye and greet me.  They may not like it but they do it.  Sometimes I say it to them just to make their teenage years more miserable.

2)  Pinch Yourself Medical and Dental Care
     -  True the floor is dingy linoleum and the chairs in the waiting room look like they came directly from an office in 1954 but the Docs are GOOD.  How good are they?  Our friend had a serious car accident and plowed into a church (we won't go into the obvious ironies).  She had no doctor but her friend called hers and he drove directly to the accident to treat a person he had never seen.  They do house calls.  They go with you to the hospital if they think you need to be admitted.  Michael went and had his teeth cleaned last week.  The exam room (not the waiting room -- we covered that) was more high tech than our very hi tech Boston dentist.  His teeth were cleaned by the Dentist, not hygienist, and total cost was less than $40.  She is pretty expensive for here.

3) The Mexican People
   -  This is a very civil society.  If you are in line at the bank or store and an old person or a handicapped person walks in, people immediately invite them to the front of the line.  Always.   I won't give you that old bromide about the love and respect for family and friends compensating for economic hardship, substandard public education and rampant government corruption.  Because, beyond a certain point, obviously it doesn't.  But the Mexicans do know how to live a very rich life on a very low budget.  Walking back from dinner Friday night we passed family after family sitting outside their houses directly on the street chatting with neighbors, eating dinner, having a beer and watching their kids play in the street.  And every family we passed said Buenas Noches.

4) The Gringos - Mostly
  -  We've regaled you with tales of some of the more outrageous/adventurous people we have encountered.  By and large, the group here is very liberal, very well traveled and very outgoing.  Are there jerks here?  You bet.  The Ugly American is not dead, but most people are really interesting.

5)  The Weather
 - What can I say.  Today it is about 78 degrees.  It rained last night  between 2 and 4AM.  I'll stop.  It's annoying you, I can tell.

6)  The Unknowable
 -  We have learned to say or think "Well, we'll just never know" and not have it drive us crazy.  Americans, like us, have an obsessive need to know and understand and quantify everything.  Google was MADE for us.  I wonder if Mexicans even bother to Google.  Was it Space Junk that landed, how did the manatees die, did the PRI have a deal with the cartels to act up before the election? We'll never know.  Just let it go, don't stress.

7)  The Markets and Personalized Service
 -  We'll skip the food markets which are great.  Michael and I need pool deck furniture.  We ask around.  Go to Tonala we are told.  In Tonala, there is an entire street of people who make outdoor furniture.  We walk into one place and see a sofa and 2 chairs we like.  The owner takes us out back where there is an ironworks and they are making the stuff RIGHT THERE.   No middle man here.  We can specify anything we want and they will do it custom for us.  Price of sofa and two custom chairs with custom cushions a little less than $700 USD.  I need cushions for chaise lounges.  Walk up the street to Jasmine's little upholstery shop.  She says sure, she'll walk down and measure and we can pick fabric.  It is so easy.

8)  Your Dollar Really Goes Further
-  More of an issue for some than others, it is just a fact of life.  In the US we would be paying over $24K a year in health insurance with a big deductible.  Here we pay $2K with a big deductible.  Property tax in Wellesley $8K, ave. Mexican property tax $200USD.  Dinner out in Ajijic usually less than $20USD.

9)  It's an Outdoor Life
-  Kind of cheating counting this as a separate item since it's directly weather related but we eat outdoors almost all the time -- maybe winter will see a change in that.  The temperate climate makes it easy to be out and we walk almost all the time.

10) The Animals and the Kids
-  Both are more wild and free than their counterparts North of the Border.  Not that our American kids and pets are not adorable (they are) but there is a certain spontaneous nature to the Mexican variants that makes it fun to be around them.  The other day, I saw a young boy of about 7 or 8 coming out of a tiny tienda holding his toddler sister gently by the hand.  When they reached the tall curb, he hoisted her into his arms and kissed her while carrying her across the street. It's the norm to see older children caring for younger ones and they are very unapologetically demonstrative with their siblings and friends.

What's Not to Like?

Well, the cartels and their mayhem is high on the list.  The level of poverty and it's impact, particularly on the children, can get you down.  Police corruption is pretty awful.  There's a ways to go environmentally.  I'm sure there is more but that's true of every place.  All in all it's really a nice country.

What Do We Miss Most after 4 Months?

1)  All of you
2) Trader Joe's
3) The Ocean in summer
4) Lobster Rolls at the Barnacle
5) Wandering through bookstores

Not too bad.  You can all do your part to minimize #1 by planning a visit.  Our first official NOB visitor other than Justin arrives on the 21st.  Kent Nutt of Austin will be with us for a week and we will do our best to entertain/freak him out.  Alex is scheduled to be with us for October.  Gary and Ginny are slotted in for some time around Day of the Dead.  My family is due in for Thanksgiving and Michael's family arrives for Christmas so things will be hectic and fun.  2013 is opening up for booking so email now!  Take care and be in touch.

PHOTOS FROM BOAT TRIP ACROSS THE LAKE TO SAN LUIS SOYATLAN

Campesinos & Los Gatos 

Back garden of restaurant

More back garden of restaurant

Templo de San Luis Soyatlan

Una Casa en San Luis Soyatlan

Fishing boats by the shore

Playground on the malecon

Nobody sues in Mexico

Not many dives for the ball on this court

Some of our friends that went on the boat

Kids playing in the lake

The Virgin, The Prisoners and The Manatees

Yep.  I'm gonna tie these three seemingly disparate topics into one smooth flowing narrative.  Maybe.  Let's start with the Virgin of Zapotan (pronounced Sa-po'-pan).  She normally resides in the Guadalajara suburb of Zapopan but makes a yearly trip to Chapala and from there to the small villages surrounding the Lake.  She made her trip to Chapala a couple of weeks ago.  Amidst the festivities was a parade that featured the tiny Virgin (not a real virgin) snuggled up to the Bishop in a humongous car; marching bands; native dancers with flags; bottle rockets; shrieking children and several dogs.  So why the giant hoopla you ask?  Well, there is the general answer and the Chapala specific answer.  So Mexico.

First the general answer.  The Spaniards found the original population to be somewhat uncooperative in terms of giving up their mineral resources, land and religious practices.  Being clever, the Conquistadors decided that the best way to achieve total domination was to incorporate aspects of the indigenous peoples existing culture into what would become their new, improved (of course) culture.  So, they crafted the Virgin of Zapopan out of corn husks and assured them that she would perform miracles at a prodigious rate --far more productively than their old, outmoded Corn God.  Well, this 14" corn husk based Virgin started performing miracles as promised and by the early 1600s was attracting a lot of attention.  By now, the Indians were on to the fact that "if it's good, it's on its on the road to Spain" so the Virgin went into hiding.

During her absence, an upstart, the Virgin of San Juan de Los Lagos, started to usurp the Virgin of Zapopan's popularity.  Unacceptable.  Our Virgin reemerged from wherever and the Battle of the Virgins, as they call it locally, began.  I honestly have no idea how religious icons battle and there is no documentation of the take down but the Virgin of Zapopan was the victor.  But that's not all.  Due to her ending a massive siege of pestilence in Guadlajara in 1734, the Royal Court of Justice proclaimed her the Patroness of Thunderstorms and Epidemics. No, still more.  After Independence was declared with no bloodshed in 1821, she was named General of Arms and authorities placed in her tiny right hand a tiny baton (still visible today) denoting her new role as Commander of the Armies of Jalisco.  But why am I going on and on about her impressive resume?  Well, let's get right to the problem in Chapala.

Flawless segue one.  By 1956 a draught had been going on for ten years.  Lake waters were at an all-time low and Guadalajara was running out of drinking water.  How low was the water?  Flawless segue number two.  It was so low that the prisoners kept on the island in the Lake just walked away.  Now, one would think that as the lake's level decreased inch by inch each day, people might have anticipated this prison escape and taken some preventative action to detain the inmates but let's just let that slide.  Clearly a miracle was called for since no one had thought to build a dam, or restrict water usage or....

Cardinal Garibi whipped into action and implored the Virgin of Zapopan to save the Lake and restore the water levels.  OK.  She is implored and the rains do come.  By the time the rains stop, the water level is at the top of the highest step leading into the church in Chapala.  The church is easily 500 feet away from and somewhat uphill from the Lake.  Stories like this set even a pagan like me to wondering.

Clearly this problem with water levels is an ongoing drama which no one wants to grapple with except on a religious basis.  So, when the next water level crisis occurs in the late 90s/early 2000s, a new approach is tried with the Virgin of Zapopan.  Now the Cardinal begins to bring the Virgin to make house calls at each of the small towns surrounding the Lake including Ajijic where we live.  While not as flamboyant and exciting as the parade and festivities in Chapala, our little village can stand tall in its ability to make the Virgin welcome.  Some of the photos below show the simple decorations that are put up for her arrival which is marked by two nights of celebration featuring well attended masses, street food, endless bottle rockets and church bells chiming Ave Maria on the hour.

You may remember that the low water levels discussed in the previous paragraph were what precipitated the outlandish efforts on the part of local government to eradicate the water hyacinth explosion.  Flawless segue number three.  Regrettably, we fear that the plague is back upon us.  Within the last week or so, they have begun erupting on the lake at a furious pace.  Michael went online to research the issue more closely and, while on the site, discovered an alternate theory about the demise of the manatees.  So here it is.  The manatees were delicious and the fishermen were poor.  Let's not belabor it. The single sentence is hideous enough.  Actually, both theories could be true and coexist.

Killer Croquet Debuts

As you know, I risked jail or deportation to import our croquet set.  At the last moment I had to remove the balls from our checked luggage due to overweight. I threw them in my carryon where they presented as small cannon ball like bombs (like in the old cartoons) in Xray scanners. It was a little difficult in the US but afforded much merriment to the TSA guy when he figured out what they were.  It was a little more complicated to explain to the Mexican authority who spoke no English and had never heard of croquet.  She seemed to believe they were supersized golf balls and I was OK with that.  So, we finally got around to having a croquet party on Sunday afternoon.  It was an amazing amount of fun.  Run out and buy a set, invite 20 or so pals over, stock the cooler with beer and you're good to go.

Both Searles sons are doing fine.  Alex is back in Wellesley trying to earn some money.  A recurrent ankle injury and 100 degree heat on the AT convinced him that doing the trail in two tries might make more sense.  We concur.  Justin is still having a good time and working in LA.  Take care and have fun.

Decorations for the Virgin of Zapopan

More decorations for the Virgin

Even more decorations for the Virgin

A closeup showing the intricacy of the decorations

One of the many shrines to the Virgin throughout Ajijic

Another shrine to the Virgin

Water Hyacinth (Lirio en Espanol) growing in Lake Chapala

Michael doing his part to remove Lirio from the Lake

Killer Croquet in progress

Lining up the shot

Deirdre hitting the ball through the wicket

Playing croquet with a little help from friends

Mermaid or Monster? quien Sabe

While we have dealt at length with the charms and challenges of our village, we have spent scant time describing its most significant geological feature -- Lake Chapala.  Maybe it's not Lake Superior, but it is a very big lake measuring 50+ miles long and 11 miles wide.  It's impressive area is offset by its paltry maximum depth of 30 feet. This results in a water color closer to the Mississippi than Lake Tahoe.

Like everything in Mexico, Lake Chapala has had a stressful and difficult history (and for that matter present). For over ten thousand years, humans have lived upon its shores, fished its waters and fought off a seemingly endless number of intruders who were attracted to its brown waters.  The Huichol Indians are the primary indigenous group in the area and even today they fish the lake, grow corn on the mountains and pretty much try to stay out of everybody else's way.  Every Saturday morning as I go for a walk on the Malecon there are about ten Huichol women and children in a circle doing a dance and regarding the lake soberly.  They would make a terrific picture but they really have a problem with people taking photos so you'll just have to use your vivid imaginations.

The Lake's water level is a highly variable thing.  This is because: 1) only one river flows into it; 2) farmers and others just siphon water out of the river as the whim hits them and the bribes flow and 3) rainy season can be capricious.  This third factor is not to be dismissed.  From June until late October it rains virtually every night -- sometimes 2" at a time.  If the rains start late, end early or lack their usual torrential character it is big trouble.  As in the late 90's and early 2000s.  For several years the rainy season faltered and the lake receded.  Almost a mile of lakebed was exposed.  In America, experts would be summoned, expensive hydrological procedures would occur, farmers would be put in stocks for draining river water etc.  Not so in Mexico.

The Mexican solution to the problem was to view this as an opportunity to get free land.  Pastures were created with barbed wire fences.  Building were constructed with rebar and cement.  Corn was planted.  Orchards were established.  The lakebed bustled with economic activity.  And then it rained like it was
supposed to.  Philosophically, the Mexican entrepreneurs retreated.  They failed however to take the barbed wire fences, rebar and trees with them.  Thus, when normal water levels were reestablished the first mile from shore became a virtual minefield of submerged items waiting to perforate kayaks, impale those falling from jet skis and spread tetanus to the native children who frolic upon the barbed wire.  Today, Ajijic employs a man who has developed an underwater chainsaw to remove tree trunks from the lake for 100 pesos per tree.  That is about $8USD a tree -- and he often has to dive into the lake to achieve this.  He was featured in the Guadalajara Reporter and seems to enjoy it.  Go figure.

But the Lake's problems did not end there.  Soon after reasonable water levels were achieved a plague of water hyacinth covered the lakeshore.  Fishermen had to machete their boats out beyond the hundreds of yards of plants.  It is rumored that in one of their less inspired moments (but not their least inspired-- read on) the local powers that be ordered several tankers of RoundUp dumped into the Lake.  I know that this sounds outrageous, and I reiterate that it is only a rumor, but having lived here for a little while, I am not ruling it out.  Well, if true, it didn't work.

I like to try to picture the moment the inspiration for the next idea came into the bureaucrat's head.  It is evening and he is sitting in a darkened room with a Corona watching the Nature Channel.  His recliner is fully extended.  From his drowsy stupor, an image comes onto the screen.  Sea grass, water hyacinth and a gigantic creature eating its way through vast amounts of vegetation.  The narrator intones: " Within a single day, this behemoth can consume a ton of vegetation."  The bureaucrat launches himself from the recliner as a vision of his role as savior of the Lake comes into clear focus.

The next day he assembles his coworkers and cranks up the VCR.  In the darkened room, murmurs of disbelief and then excitement and acclaim greet his ears.  Several weeks later four manatees are dumped into Lake Chapala.

As with so many things, the problem was not with the idea per se but it's execution.  OK, so the idea was pretty crazy but the manatees could have lived fairly happily there whether they solved the problem or not.  The water is the exact temperature they like and God knows there was plenty of vegetation.  No, the problem was, in typical Mexican fashion, nobody bothered to tell the people anything.  So a day or two after the manatees take up residence in the lake a fisherman starts shrieking hysterically and paddling frantically for shore.  He claims the existence of a lake monster and everybody laughs at him.  Until the next day.  Long story short.  The fishermen, long on courage and short on nature education, take on the manatees and bludgeon them to death in short order.

As close family and friends know, I have a special fondness for manatees. Michael and I have swum with them and they are incredibly gentle creatures.  It is testimony to how truly demented I am that when we were told this story I laughed until I wept.  It is so Mexico.

However, the experience has taught all involved that education is everything.  In the plaza, they have created a sculpture of the manatees in an effort, I suppose, to avoid the same tragic error when next manatees appear in the lake.

Only One Weird Thing This Week (well besides the Manatees)

-  They sell motorcycles in grocery stores and furniture stores.  No one knows why.

Take care and we'll blog again soon.  Please let us know what you are up to and, if you can, come see us.  If you want to be dropped from the posting notification updates,  just email me at deirdresea@gmail.com.

Mountains before "rainy season"

Manatees in the Plaza --- lest we forget

Mural showing Mexican hot air balloon being prepared to float over Lake Chapala

Mural showing the rain god 

Backside view of Vino Blanco's owner

View of mountains during "rainy season"

Old orchard in Lake Chapala

Water taxi on Lake Chapala

Indians? What Indians?

Switzerland IS the New Prince Edward Island

In our last blog we discussed the odd phenomenon of encountering many, many Indian tourists in the Lauterbrunnen valley.  After that, we never saw another one.  Not in Geneva, not anywhere in France.  What is the mysterious link between the Jungfrau, Lauterbrunnen Valley and the subcontinent of India?  As we say in Mexico, "Who knows?"  There will be a prize for any of our intrepid readers who can get to the bottom of this small mystery.  

It is not entirely truthful to say that we never saw any other Indians.  We did see two more. As we approached the draw bridge leading into Carcassonne (the truly impressive walled city that was the scene of a very grisly start to the Inquisition featuring the Cathurs) we heard strange, haunting flutes played by two guys.  Closer inspection revealed they were dressed in full American Indian garb featuring elaborate feathered head dresses, loincloths the whole nine yards.  Tourists flocked to hear them and toss coins into their open flute boxes.  No one seemed the least confused by the presence of Navajos or Apaches or Some Tribe flutists in front of a Medieval Castle.

Our Dan Brown Roots Tour

It turns out that the Da Vinci Code is actually based on a tale about the Holy Grail and this little town called Chateau les Rennes which is located close to Carcassonne.  There was a priest who allegedly found a treasure (the Grail?) and built a church and mansion that were way beyond his means.  The church features a demon holding the holy water and other very strange stuff.  He was apparently not a very kosher priest.  The rumor is that he hid more of the treasure before he died and it has never been found.  So one fine day we set off to poke around.  Like every single other place we visited on this trip the village was reached by ascending thousands of feet on single lane roads with no guardrails (phobia # 1) necessitating an immediate infusion of excellent red wine upon arrival. We survived the excursion and found it mildly interesting but more interesting was the story the owner of our B&B told us when we were discussing our day.

This area is right over the border from Spain and during the Spanish civil war 600-800K Spanish fled over the border and assimilated into France.  These immigrants included a number of tough guys who had fought Franco and morphed into very capable Resistance fighters during WWII.  The Germans were not pleased with this and sent troops in (even though it was Vichy France).  While they were busy shooting Resistance fighters and burning the peasants crops they found time to go to Chateau les Rennes to search for the treasure.  As noted, this place is WAY,WAY up with only one way down.  The Allies parachuted some American explosives experts in and they teamed with the Resistance to blow up the road and take out the Germans.  Only the explosives didn't work as intended.  The American in charge sent the others on their way and tried to hold off the Germans single handed until the charge ignited.  Well, it didn't and he was killed and shipped home.  His will was read stipulating he wanted to be buried where he was killed so they shipped him back.  He was buried in a crypt next to the road (wondered what that was driving up) and every year the entire village gathers at the crypt to honor him.  And who said the French were unappreciative and arrogant.  Well, we'll get to that later.

Onward and, yes again, Upward

From Carcassonne we ambled onward to meet up with Michael's siblings and their families in a house we had rented in the Cevennes Mountains about an hour away from Avignon.  The owners had supplied directions that were, to be blunt, atrocious.  "Drive a few miles, see a huge stone cross, go a bit further and turn left"etc.  Once again, single lane road, huge drop offs, no visibility.  To my great surprise, everyone arrived with no fatalities.  The house was phenomenal but I won't bore you with the details.  Like all rental houses, however, it had quirks.  Plug in a hairdryer and lose all electricity.  Washing machine required a degree in civil engineering.  Luckily, the Searles clan is a relatively easy going group and we had a great time.  There was a huge dining terrace on the second floor overlooking the pool where the family gathered after each day of adventures (mostly getting to and from the house in one piece) to dine overlooking miles of mountains and valleys.  Food was sent up on the dumb waiter --very fun.  Perhaps the single best day was the trip to the Ardeche.  We rented kayaks and rode the river for about 8km through spectacular scenery which culminated in rowing under a natural stone bridge that had to be about 100 feet tall.  Just a little white water to keep you on your toes.  

Ah...So French

Our house came with a "guardian" named Abby.  While we struggled to greet him in his native tongue, he glared at us derisively and stated "Hello, Good Evening, whatever." So much for that legendary French charm.  He informed us that if we had any problems we were to tell him immediately unlike the feckless Australians and English guests who had failed to deal with him correctly and instead complained to the owners.  Well... we would be sure not to make that mistake!  So, the next evening we promptly informed him of the leak under the kitchen sink.  His reply: "Yes.  You should put something to catch the leak."  Next evening he comes to inspect. "You put a cooking pot under there! Sacre bleu! A bucket, A bucket!" So welcoming.

Now here is the difference between Mexico and France.  In Mexico, you tell someone that you have a leak under your sink.  They immediately come to your house, smile and tell you they are so sorry this has happened to you, look at the leak for an hour or two, tell you they need parts and will be back in one hour.  Two days later they come back and fix the sink and tell you that they are extremely sorry but the part (a washer say) had to be special ordered.  But they are SO nice it's pretty OK once you are used to it.  In France, you say you have a leak under your sink.  They intimate you have done something unspeakable to the sink to cause it, say they will come and look at it, look at it (eventually) and tell you what YOU should do about it.  And please, stop whining (inferred).

A Few More Odd Things

1)  French babies (of whom there are very few) don't smile.  No matter what kind of ridiculous faces or noises you make.  Our sons noticed this on a previous trip.  It hasn't changed.

2)  The British love to make fools of themselves in front of their European neighbors.  On earlier trips in Amsterdam and Ireland and now in France we have noted this.  It revolves around hen parties which take place prior to nuptials.  In Annecy, we were dining when a parade of Brits went by.  The first girl was dressed in swim fins, an old lady bathing suit, with a rubber tube around her waist and a duck hat.  She was trailed by persons we assumed to be future bridesmaids (perhaps seeking revenge?).  At  each table she would inquire : "Are you named David?" in French.  Apparently, she could only fulfill her quest by finding someone of that name.  It appears there are few Davids in France.  In the same town, we encountered another party with the future bride dressed as a Milk Maid and soliciting funds.  All very odd.   I mean you really don't have to go out of your way to have the French make fun of you.

3)  Your kids really don't have to learn another language.  Or how to dress.  We have finally done it.  American culture has triumphed (if that's your point of view).  Everyone speaks English and wears tacky American clothes produced in China.  Sixty year old French women sport T shirts with LA Laker logos and double knit capris.  In a restaurant in the furthest outpost of the Cevennes we struggled to order dinner in French only to be asked by the elderly owner "Do you guys speak English?"

4)  Manpris.  Despite what I said about American clothing eclipsing any sense of fashion in Europe, the manpri continues to find favor.  I have never seen an American man wearing the male version of capris.  They are everywhere in Europe.  I once saw a very attractive eighteen year old Italian who looked fetching in them.  Otherwise no.  Yet they persist.

Home?  Again

As Michael and I were winging our way home from New Jersey where we had rendezvoused (could that possibly be a word in the past tense?) with our  intrepid Appalachian Trail son we wondered if it would feel like going home or just an extension of our trip.  We were both pleasantly surprised to realize that it did feel like home.  We miss everyone in Boston and have many moments when we wish we could relax over dinner with pals who've known us for years, or go to Spanish or French class or go to a TJ Maxx but increasingly we feel at home in Ajijic.  So, enough of our European jaunt.  Next post we'll delve into the world of Mexico again.  Take care and please let us know what is up with you.  

American Indians at Carcassone

Carcassone

View of the town below from La Tours

La Tours --- a ruined Cathar Castle

Chapel at Chateau les Rennes

Baptismal Font supported by the devil at Church of Chateau les Rennes

Village of Minerve in France

Chateau La Mazel

Dining Porch at Chateau La Mazel

Pool at Chateau La Mazel

Bride-to-be dressed as milkmaid with bridesmaids soliciting donations for wedding in Annecy

Market Day at Uzes