Limon y Melon

It gets really hot here.

Therefore, I want cool snacks.

Mexico has a national obsession with limes.

Mario and I are now in love with lime sherbet.

I didn't like cantaloupe.

But one day I mixed it with lime sherbet.

I'm in love.

Up to my knees . . .

This is my street. It was completely repaved less than 6 months ago. I took this picture yesterday. Do you see those car-eating potholes?

Why is my street in such amazing disrepair, you ask? PEMEX. PEMEX is Mexico's government-owned gasoline/petroleum monopoly. Asphalt is a by-product of petroleum production. So, despite the fact that concrete streets last about 20 times longer than asphalt streets (and the fact that northern Mexico boasts some very successful concrete companies), the vast , vast majority of the roads are paved in asphalt. OK, so it's not exactly PEMEX's fault. After all, why would the government pay a private company for a product that they can provide themselves? (Back that rule that I mentioned in my last post: "let's make everything as difficult as possible.")

How did these potholes get this size? A combination of the rainy season and drainage systems that can't handle torrential downpours. All over the country, the months between May and September are known as the rainy season. In central Mexico, it rains every day. Here, it rains a few times a week. But when it rains, boy--does it rain! My street, as it sits on an incline, turns into a river, complete with current. Therefore, the asphalt gets flushed away downriver.

Although I haven't been out much here while it's raining, I'm always reminded of my walk home from the American School in Puebla. At the end of the school year, it was almost always raining on my walk home. And, despite the fact that I walked home uphill, the water level got deeper and deeper the farther uphill I walked. The street drains were so full that they were spouting out water instead of channeling it in--rather like fountains! (ew) One day, Mario was driving me home while it was raining, and we could feel chunks of asphalt breaking free and hitting against the car in the torrent of water that flowed under us. Yikes!

Maybe someday Mexico's elected officials will learn that perhaps it would behoove them to spend a little bit more on concrete that will last year after year, instead of the asphalt that turns to pot(holes) in less than 6 months. Meanwhile, I'll keep waiting and wading.

(And this previous comment was by no means a political commentary or criticism, in case anyone from immigration is reading this post.)

What it takes to be a financial genius--an Aztec.

Guarding one's life savings under a mattress still happens frequently here, and for a variety of very legitimate reasons. The overwhelming reason is that traditional banks make it impossible for the average citizen to open a savings account. For example, banks require at least a 500 peso deposit (for the last few years, this was roughly 50USD), and many require at least double that. Furthermore, they often require a monthly minimum deposit of 1000 pesos (100 USD), or the bank will cancel the account. I haven't been able to find out whether the client gets their money back, or if the bank just keeps it, as if it was meant to be a generous donation to their already profitable financial institution. This is on top of a plethora of random maintence fees, massive amounts of documentation, paperwork, and co-signers needed to open an account. (Not to mention that most people simply don't have much money to save after basic expenses are paid each week.) Therefore, if one winds up with spare change, it goes under the mattress.

Sometime around 5 years ago, I noticed these tiny little Banco Aztecas opening all over the place, prinipally in a corner of the chain store, Elektra. Elektra is a regular department store, but offers financing options for everything they sell . . . stoves, refrigerators, irons, underwear . . . pay 30 pesos a week for a year and that VCR will be officially yours! Clearly a good option in a country where the majority of the population can't dream of paying for these things upfront or qualify for a credit card (where I've seen interest rates advertised at 52%!). Given Elektra's profitable financing option, they finally decided that perhaps the average citizen may just appreciate having access to a bank. Therefore, Banco Azteca was born.

Clients can open a savings account with just 50 pesos. They claim that they do not charge maintence fees. They still provide clients with debit cards, backed by Visa. They give away raffle tickets for each deposit a client makes. And within the last 5 years, they've become the most successful bank in Mexico. Amazing what happens when a bank makes it clear that they actually appreciate having clients.

And no, this post was not paid for by Banco Azteca. I've just been searching out my options, and been appalled by the big banks. My motto for living in Mexico has often been, "let's make everything as difficult as possible." I'm so impressed that there is a business out there that actually sees fit to run things the easy way. In my experience, the easy way has never been the Mexican way. Here's hoping that it will be someday.

What's Going On?

I feel like I've just re-adjusted to being back home after the vacation known as Endless Summer in Indiana. Seriously, when in life does anyone get to enjoy SEVEN weeks of vacation? I'm glad I had my chance. Thanks, Dan and Jo!

In the midst of getting adjusted, Mario's mom and sister came to visit us last week. Lili (Mario's sister) went home on Sunday, as she finally has the possibility of a job. Mago (Mario's mom) will stay with us through the weekend, when we head south. Yes--we're off on yet another vacation! But this time Mario gets to join us for more than 48 hours.

So on Saturday we'll head down the Emerald Coast, otherwise known as the Gulf Coast to Coatzacoalcos, on the southern "tip" of the Gulf of Mexico. Mario's uncle is having a birthday party, which Mario would like to crash. Furthermore, this gives Clara the chance to meet her only living great-grandparent, the 102-year-old legend that is Don Octaviano (Mago's father).

Sometime after Independence Day (next Tuesday and Wednesday), we'll head to Puebla, where Mario has some business to do, and I have some candy to buy and chiles en nogadas to eat. Mario and I met in Puebla 10 years ago, and I haven't been back in 4 years--it's time!

We'll stop to visit Mario's compadre, Rodrigo. Yep, they're more than friends--they're compadres. This means that Mario is the godfather to Rodrigo's son. [Do you have the theme song in your head, too?] Then we'll finally spend some time in Mexico City with Mario's immediate family.

However, if you've been counting days, it is clear that we will wind up in Mexico City around Friday. Considering that it takes an entire day to drive between Mexico City and Saltillo, it's clear that we'll spend maybe a grand total of 48 hours in Mexico City. No, scratch that, as Mario has also decided to visit Metepec, because he thinks we need to buy another rocking chair. Where he thinks it's going to fit in this house, I don't know. The man is a freakshow when it comes to buying furniture. We'll have a grand total of 24 hours in Mexico City. Boo.

This got me to thinking . . . we haven't seen Mario's siblings in about a year, and I'd also like Clara to spend some quality time with Mario's dad. Therefore, I tossed around the idea that Clara and I stay another week. Mario loved this idea, because he now has space to fit that rocking chair in the jeep for the ride home. So the girlie and I will spend an additional week in central Mexico, dividing my time between Mexico City and Morelos, as I'd really like to see my kids, too. I promised them that I'd visit with "my baby", and I don' t know that we'll be back before she starts walking. At which time, she'd no longer be a baby (technically). So off to Morelos, we go!

What a crazy, crazy month! We'll return late on the 28th of September, and don't plan on leaving northeast Mexico again until Christmas. As much as I like to travel, I think this month will push me to my limit!

Bees in the Blender

Mario's mom and sister are visiting, so we've been speaking a lot of Spanish. As Mago (Mario's mom) was washing dishes, I heard her say that she found an "aspa" in the blender. I believe that I heard the word for nest, too. I couldn't figure out how wasps had made a nest in the blender. And, oh, was I disgusted!

Mario couldn't understand my reaction, as he told me that his mom had found our missing blender blades in the blender. "Aspa" means blender blades--not wasp (avispa), like I thought I heard.

Whew--no wasps in the blender, and now I can make chunk-free baby food! Oh, the joys of not catching everything!