It's thanks to my iPhone, where I learned of El Meco and could sent my house guests, Bently, Deborah and Sydnee and my Russian friend Anastasia there on Thursday. It was only uncovered 10 years ago, so I didn't know anything about it as a tourist. I learned about it from Julie Fraga's Isla Apps via iPhone.. And Isla Mujeres's Office of Tourism doesn't seem to be promoting it. But there is a nice write up on Trip Adviser. Anastasia took these pictures before her camera battery failed. It took the group about an hour to read the self-guiding signs and explore the site. There were three other visitors the time they were there. Anastasia, who has visited the Old City in Jerusalem and not any of the other Mayan ruins yet, said she could feel the power of the people as she sat with Sydnee, contemplating the life of the Maya who used this as their port to Isla Mujeres, with it's salt mine now known as Salina Chica and Salina Grande on Isla Mujeres, the island. This is on the mainland part of our municipality. I'm going to be recommending that my guest this high season go! I know, it's hard to leave the island. But you'll be back in three hours and have had a taste of history!
I guess you could say I love Mexican life and all it has to offer, including cuisine. And when eating in Mexico, do as the Mexicans do. Comida Mexicana is a varied thing. From squash blossoms, fried or in soups, to the "Mexican truffle" called huitlacoche (pronounced weet la ko chee). Huitlacoche is a corn fungus. Sounds gross, eh? It is a mold that grows between the husk and grains and then makes the grains larger and larger, until they are ready to burst. When they do, or are helped along, they make an aromatic, mildly pungent black paste. You've heard of food porn. This is real smut! Corn smut. Here on Isla Mujeres, I know of three places that offer some. Casa Rollandi in Centro offers is as one of their pizza toppings. Bastso Grill has it in a quesadilla. And Rooster Cafe offers it in the sauce that accompanies the Island Omelette. If you haven't acquired the taste, try it. If you have the taste, know where to go! It's bound to be a popular food choice here during Semana Santa, the Easter vacation.
Punta and Pony pose for a portait after the 24 hour sleep over began. See how nice Pony sits? The pipsqueak rat terrier came in here thinking she'd own Punta. So then Punta never let it rest.
A bad sign was her escape upon arrival, after I had locked down the compound and opened her pet carrier. Ric and Christina, guests from Canada, saw me trying to get her to come back as she did a couple fly-bys. So they worked with a brigade of neighbor children led by David, and ultimately carried her home. This was a miracle because Pony isn't all that fond of children or males, being the second dog taken away from a Maya boy in San Cosme, where a pet sterilization clinic was recently held. The boy didn't mind giving up his abused dog because, hey, they're just toys. OMG. That's when I realized the fence posts can't hold her, nor the bars in the steel door in the back patio entrance. She's that tiny, just slips right through even though she looks bigger. Then Wrestlemania began. By about 3am, Pony played dead. Without a command to do so. I believe that in collegiate wrestling, this is called passivity. But it would pick back up and continued all night. Then the dog walker came at 7:30am, having not slept for other reasons, and took one look at me and said, "Oh no!" She knows rat terriers. "I'm scared of that dog. I was just bitten by a cat!" I suggested she just take Pony just go to the corner for business and back, since she gets a lot of doggie play opportunities at Alison's Isla Animals and the "no can do" emergency call was already made. So just a short walk before Jeff and Alison come, please. Pony had other ideas, slipped herself out of her collar after pooping during the walk and headed into a neighbor's house, hammock sleepers still asleep at 8am, into their sleeping room and up a flight to stairs onto the roof. There the whole neighborhood looked out at them and laughed. Inga Gross, the dog walker, says this kind of puppy play is called schmoozle in German. That's where we get the word schmooze. It also applies to rat terriers napping in the spoon position, which I am sure might have happened had they continued over days But I have multiple sclerosis and am unsteady on my feet, having a 10 pound dynamo at my feet is far more dangerous than Punta alone, though she is a big dog. "Casi un pony," Alfredo the dog groomer said. Almost a pony. Carmen calls her Barbie because of her long, slim legs. But she is learning not to jump. She doesn't pull on her leash. She will mature into the only dog I need and can have play dates at Alison's or with the beach dogs near Mar y Sol when she needs more socialization. Now, Pony resumes waiting on a ride to Seattle or Portland. She needs a good person to schmoozle with and lots of space to run. And having some rats around to catch is perfect for a feisty rat terrier.
Here's Punta, falling out of the rack mid-morning doggy time. After school-start hours. As the days have gotten wetter and then muggier, she has be extraordinarily lazy. Except for her boot camp outings with Sergio. So, she feels like she should be entitled to sleep in. She ignores my predawn correspondence and internet tasks. Then, when I start to make food or coffee for myself, she is actually ready to get up. Well, not quite ready. But if properly motivated, she will move slowly until she is ready to roll.
A fellow islander accused me of being negative yesterday when I posted on Facebook that it was HOT HOT HOT. I'm not sure when saying the truth became a negative. It's summer in the Caribbean. So I grabbed Anna, my renter, to show her a new beach. She loved it by the Lima Rock House. We snorkeled for hours until we got too much sun, then went home and siestaed. Then we paid a visit to the man she must know as a resident. Miguel! As in Miguel's Moonlite. Anna had coconut shrimp and I, chicken Maya style. A couple pomegranate margaritas later, we were hot AND happy! I'm thinking Anna must not have smiled that big at her retirement party a month ago! Yes, we are HOT HOT HOT in the Caribbean.
The long cool woman in the white slacks drew admiring stares from all of us at Fayne's this weekend. She and every man she danced with could win Dancing with the Stars in a heartbeat. The Band Without a Name enjoyed every beat. Jimmy from Massachusetts enjoyed the evening after treating me to dinner at Olivia's. A skewer of shishlick accompanies a salad for an extra 40 peso. A yummy way to go! Sunday's main event was delivery of living room furniture from TeleBodega in Cancun. Punta was very glad there was more after the love seat came through the door. In the evening, Anna from Euless, Texas and two granddaughters checked in. It was an eventful weekend!
Well, who knew? There I was, on my way to Walmart from Chedraui with Carlos the cabbie when I came to the awakening: Burger King delivers in Cancun! Another reason to be glad I am not there! My trip was eventful as Kathryn and left on the 6:30am so Carlos could take her to the airport. I was dropped off at Chedraui where my big find was stuffed olives (they are rare here) and L'Oreal make up. They did not have pool filter cartidges and are the only place known to me to carry them. Not today, a clerk said. When. No lo se. We tried the fabric store after he was done at the airport, but it didn't open til 9am. So, off to Walmart, where the big score of the day was 2 cans of ScotchGuard for the new furniture arriving Sunday. Oh, I dug into the Tuesday specials and bought chard for 2 pesos a bunch and a bunch of other things, including a new bed for princess Punta, who likes a bed to be the the bottom of my wardrobe. And scared by the sight of a Burger King moto, I bought sushi for breakfast in the cab. I just can't pass up a $4 sushi tray! Fabric store had great ultra-suede on sale for the chairs the carpenter picked up in the afternoon. He'll stain and varnish them to match the table I bought. And so I was back in the house by 11am! Any later and I would have turned into cooked pumpkin pie filling. It is hot. Tom from NH was make his move this morning, leaving the island for San Miguel Allende, where his household friends including Henry the dog hope it won't be as hot as on a small Caribbean island like Isla Mujeres '
I am off to Cancun today at the crack of dawn with Kathryn. She's heading to the airport and Carlos will drop me off at a big box store. After he takes her to the airport, he'll pick me up and take me to a fabric store. There I will get fabric to recover the seats of the dining chairs which will also be re-varnished to match the new table. While the island is paradise, for those hot sticky trips into Cancun, I keep the above image in my mind. The cool waters of Lake Mohawk in Malvern, OH, where I grew up. Wherever I am right now, a nice water ski pull around the late would be such a refreshing contrast. It's in my mind whenever paradise feels like an inferno...in July and August! Of course. I've lost the balance it takes to water ski. But cool sweet water is always great! That's why we love our cenotes here in the Yucatan Peninsula, the mainland off Isla Mujeres.
Silvia and Carlos Hernandez spent a week in March with me and then a week in Villa Vera. We became fast friends. We live parallel lives! Asimilados! All of us are children of immigrants: Silvia's father was from Mexico, Carlos's parents Salvadorans who sent him ahead to the US to avoid the war that claimed four Catholic lay workers from Cleveland as collateral damage. Carlos is an autoworker about to lose his job with Toyota; his plant had the misfortune of being in a partnership with GM, Chevrolet. So, half of it was tooled for GM and well, there is no going back. We found it amusing that Silivia, who speaks virtually no Spanish, was relying on Carlos, or me, an immigrant, for translations! We drank our Charro Negros and thought about that. Diet coke and tequila. The one thing we kept going back to in our heads was the US experience of growing up as children of immigrants and assimilating. The irony of me working on assimilating here, in a Latino culture, was not lost on any of us. We just had a grand old time with that and Mexican time!
Driving south past the new hospital construction, you see the front of Hacienda Mundaca. Well... It was hard to recognize with the shop stalls they put in front. But the growing, giant Tinker Toys monstrosity is another matter. Palapas "they" say. Palapas? Pointing down? Where will the people go in them? Hope this turns into some kind of museum for Isla Mujeres heritage and NOT some sort of tourist attraction that detracts from what is behind the white stalls, the origin of Isla Mujeres!
I want to grow up to be a beach dog! Mommy took me to the beach yesterday! We were are a place called Mar y Sol with mommy Zina's friends. Mommy had me walking on a leash. Then she'd let go and say "Punta Come!" Sandy took me for a walk on the beach. Then, when everyone was sure I knew how to act, Mommy untied the leash. Then Rick picked me up and sang a Willie Nelson song. "Mommies don't let your babies grow up to be beach dogs" is the song he sang as we dance for probably 20 minutes. I was asleep when he got done. Today, I'm pretty sleepy. I dug a lot of holes near the water yesterday! Today, we are not going to the beach. Mommie is going to the laundry and when she comes back she says we will see how I act on the rooftop patio of Zina's Guest House.
It's just been in the past few days that the new open air market is taking on a recognizable form. It is in La Gloria and will replace the market in Canotol, which is visible between the third and fourth posts from the left. It is not far from the new football rapido, like indoor soccer, field and on the left, not visible here on the right( actually the front) is the new community center that will have a children's movie theater, to be dedicated any day now. For taco fans, another bearing: The new mercado is very near "tacos campos" or Taqueria Cachuril. All walking distance from Zina's Guest House. It will give the new SuperExpress a run for its money and hopefully the competition will benefit us all. The new super is out of view of the camera on the left.
I was hopeless behind in posting food pictures when I got an impromptu invitation to share a meal with Chapoy and his family yesterday on his 36th birthday. First course, chilpachole. Even 3 year old Andrea love that! Norma was handing out napkins while just letting the juices spill down her cami top. It was nice to see Chapoy and Norma reconciled after a multi month separation. They have been back as a couple for two months and living together again for a month. Chapoy is talking with his mom, who is back from Merida after a long hospitalization. We had the crab and seafood soup, ceviche and there was fried fish. But a girl can only eat so much! This one anyway. Andrea packed it away. So I may never get caught with posting my various eating excursions this month. Oh well!
It was among the best Thanksgiving meals I've had in my life! Vivian's Qubano staff of three, including Vivian, fixed a cranberry fruit compote, cornbread dressing with mushrooms, green beans, Vivian's grandmother's Hungarian potatoes....but wait! It started with vegetarian pate! Vivian was a gracious hostess, offering up a choice of beverages. I had watermelon water. A new addition to my Thanksgiving repertoire. I was the first to arrive at 1pm, but David wasn't far behind! He got watermelon water, too. All in all, there were 27 reservations, but others called in to see they could get in and if to go orders would be available. Logan Kemper came by with friends who didn't want to miss a football game and got seven orders to go.
Oh yes, we all got pumpkin pie...including Logan and her friends. And how was your feast? Tomorrow, El Cejas and return to life in Cancun. Vuelve la vida!
Coming home this morning from marketing, I was met by my new beat cop. "My name is Ismael," he began. "Do you have any reports you would like to file?" He went on to explain that he would be walking the neighborhood every morning, as we used to say, rounding up the usual suspects. I don't mean to make light of the effort, I just couldn't help it! Ismael is based downtown with the Public Security division at the Palacio Municipal. He will work days. Nights, we are to call their number, not state dispatch for speedy response. That number is 877 0051. The new police presence program is called "Your Friend, the Police." This is proof that the mayor took to heart the complaints of locals and foreigners as well. But the presence of Officer Santiago and his collegues in other colonias is welcome as the holidays approach and more tourists arrive. Thank you Alicia Ricalde Magana.
Just as I was leaving to meet and take Deb and Walter to the dentist, Sergio showed up to work. Oh, too late in the afternoon? he asked as he picked up Boca. His full time boss is in Cancun with a heart attack, so he's been swamped. He'll be here in a few minutes now to set up the new pool. Meanwhile, Dr Canales was getting ready for us. With Deb's cavity and my root canal, he was loading the anesthesia syringes. And getting other instruments. My molar had gotten so infected absent antibiotics, he dared only do one canal of three. Now on azithromycin, with a urine sample in the fridge for my kidney infection, I'll be back for more on Friday! Deb got through it all without breaking those white knuckles and we went to Miguel's and each had a nice lobster tail. Miguel treated us to after dinner pomagranite infused tequila. This will be a scene for Boca to take in. Tomorrow, she gets her final shots and spayed at the Isla Animals Spay and Neuter Clinic. That is good news for a cute virgen dog!
The golf cart is in this shop, getting a galvanized steel muffler fabricated by Alfonso. He said he'll be done at 2p. In the meantime, head of housekeeping was due here a couple hours ago and Sergio is due here in a couple to set up the new pool. Then at 5, topping off an action packed day, I'm going into town to have a root canal by Dr Canales. Nice name for an oral surgeon. I guess he was destined to be!
The night blooming amaryllis in my garden bloomed again, the third time this year. I had written it off and Carmen had cut it's leaves back a month ago. Then they sprang back and three days ago, I noticed the flower stem. The night before last, it almost, almost was in bloom as I came home from Miguel's. Last night, it was in its glory. Will I get one more this year? Isla Mujeres' growing environment continually surprises me. Can't grow dill without a lot of planning. Lettuces go in now. Tomatoes -wait, there as a tomato plant close to the amaryllis. I'll got check.
Rest in peace, Lora. It was a rough morning. Lora got up early Saturday, the second day after her nails were clipped under sedation. She was hung over on Friday and shook it off when she got up. She smelled the T-bone steak Gail couldn't eat when we came home Friday night. When I took it out of the fridge for treats and tricks, she ran to Gail's apartment as if to say "Thank you." She was beaming! She did a couple sit pretties, shake and chokala. Then she ran out to "make pee pee." She wasn't gone but a few minutes, just out the door to the median strip, and across the street in the La Gloria neighborhood of Isla Mujeres to visit Baut. Baut didn't move to play and she ran home. But as soon as she got in the door, she was thrown to the side, then began to tremble. I knew. I am an islander. I put her on her doggie bed, hugged her and grabbed the cell phone. When Delfino got the call, he knew. He had tended to another strychnine patient at 3am. There would be more. He came quickly, living just down the hill. He gave her a shot of valium to calm the shakes and spasms. I knew he could not save her. Stychnine is hard to reverse. He tried. She got other drugs including morphine. If the spasms can be stopped, the system can be purged, hydrated and chelated - sometimes resulting in a saved life. But Delifino saw all he could do was euthanize her with an overdose. While I waited, Federico came over, said he was sorry, and began to clean his steps where the poison laid. He has a Chihuahua who parents both died in the poisoning of 2007, when it was one day old. Grandchildren up and down the steps all day long. He was sullen. Delfino didn't call right away. But then he did, informing me of the outcome and beginning to talk arrangements. She was cremated in Cancun with other pets. To have her done separate would cost much more and having her ashes in the garden was not important to me. He came later with the certificate from the new pet crematory in Cancun. www.paraisoanimalcancun.com It says he was prayed over and has gone to nicer pastures with her Pastor. Sunday morning, the garbage men came, looking for her and the others. In past years, police officers put dead dogs in garbage bags during the night so the garbage men could pick them up before children went out. Later in the day, people came buy and said there was a cute stray here, another one there, that didn't take the poison and needed homes. The Maya plant lady, Lucila, said she knew a Lora look-alike, a skinny male, near La Bruja, needed a home. Alison at Amigos los Animales has a cute guy, too. Because it is considered against nature, sterilization has not gained much popularity here. Status breeds like "bull terri" have. Then, they are turned loose when failure to manage a household means no food for the dogs. They eat from garbage cans, often returning to their old homes to sleep. But they are dirty street dogs, a menace. Can't the people in charge see the difference? Have they never experienced unconditional love? Are they so short sighted to not see that children suffer, lose faith in governance as they grow up? That children could play on surfaces the poison has touched and die themselves? Lora's poison was on the steps inside the gate of Federico's house, where Baut laid without moving as Lora took the meat, meat from a bull that was euthanized after being hit by a truck on its way to tonight's bull fight. There is a lot wrong in paradise. The door to door vendors came yesterday with neighborhood body counts and inquiries about our Lora. Pobrecita, they said, and walked away, slowly shaking their heads and looking back. Then, I cried.
Gilligan woke on Monday to find the battery had been taken from his motorcycle, a dirt bike that only needs a battery to run the lights. Tail lights were taken too! Neatly clipped with wire cutters. When my bicycle was stolen earlier this summer, Gilligan, acting on a tip from Head of Housekeeping, tracked it down, stole in back, and slapped the guys, proving that in the Caribbean, vigilante justice sometimes is the most effective. Gilligan's 700 peso loss was still settling in as he fidgeted with a Smith and Wesson burglar alarm I had never opened since bringing it 6 years ago. It was squawking when I came back from picking up Kate and Brian and their oodles of medical goods from MediWish in Cleveland. Dr. Salas, vice president of the Isla Mujeres Red Cross board, was on his way. He came, looked and talked about the safety nets here and where the stuff would be allotted. Some will go to the Centro de Salud as well. They talked about getting supplies for the 12 bed hospital planned in the neighborhood and the regattas which could float stuff shipped to them. Kate works at the university hospital medical research center in the lab while completing her PhD. Brian has a PhD in dermatology, which means he'll likely be developing skin treatments. Then Brian, Kate and Gilligan and I went in search of dinner. We wound up at La Bruja, with Gilligan taking his bike. While we sat there, Brian and Gilligan noticed guys looking over his bike and wondering how it got there, since they took the battery! Ha! Busted. Now, to get it back. Bruha's son, who caught the same guys climbing onto their roof to scout, sat one guy down to talk. He said he didn't have it, his buddies did. Roberto Jr. basically told him that if the battery wasn't returned in 24 hours, there would be a lot of repercussions because Gilligan is crazy and will whip his body until he can't walk. Then break their windows for further punishment and get the battery. Yep, that's what was said. Kate and Brian had great fun with this. Brian's dad, an Australian MP, taught him a few things that Gilligan knows to hurt people. They laughed about that and then we went to Miguel's for mojitos. Well, 36 hours later now and the battery isn't back. Look out chamacos. You'll wish you were back in Chiapas.
It's thanks to my iPhone, where I learned of El Meco and could sent my house guests, Bently, Deborah and Sydnee and my Russian friend Anastasia there on Thursday. It was only uncovered 10 years ago, so I didn't know anything about it as a tourist. I learned about it from Julie Fraga's Isla Apps via iPhone.. And Isla Mujeres's Office of Tourism doesn't seem to be promoting it. But there is a nice write up on Trip Adviser.
Anastasia, who has visited the Old City in Jerusalem and not any of the other Mayan ruins yet, said she could feel the power of the people as she sat with Sydnee, contemplating the life of the Maya who used this as their port to Isla Mujeres, with it's salt mine now known as Salina Chica and Salina Grande on Isla Mujeres, the island. This is on the mainland part of our municipality. I'm going to be recommending that my guest this high season go! I know, it's hard to leave the island. But you'll be back in three hours and have had a taste of history!
