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News Roundup

January 24, 2012 | 1 Comment

by Rich Peterson

Deportes – Mexico faces the United States in a qualifying match in women’s Olympic soccer in Vancouver, Canada.  Mexico and the U.S. are tied atop the Group B standings, but after scoring a ridiculous 27 goals in two recent games, the U.S. holds the tie-breaker.  Mexico handed the U.S. women’s team it’s first ever loss in a World Cup qualifier 14 months ago, and hope to make the road to London 2012 a little more rough for the U.S. team.

Big Dig – An interesting article at Geo-Mexico about a huge tunneling project in Mexico city to alleviate drainage problems the city has struggled with since it was founded by the Aztecs.  The 62 km Túnel Emisor Oriente is to be largest drainage tunnel in the world, and is among the biggest engineering projects in Mexico’s history.

Gasoline Heist! – Agents of Mexico’s Attorney General’s Office found four stolen tanks containing more than 10,000 gallons of Pemex fuel in an industrial park in the city of Puebla, southeast of Mexico City. I hate paying for gas, too!

And for fun, some photos:

Miss Lousianne getting to know the locals

Sunrise over the headlands

Driving into Mexico in rental car

January 24, 2012 | 1 Comment

by Churpa

Writing about cars yesterday reminded me of another tidbit dredged from Lorena’s infamous and swamp-like inbox: fellow travel writer Ben Starr sent us a tip regarding Advantage, a rental service that allows cars from select locations in California, Arizona, and Texas to cross the border into Mexico. Purchase of a $25 dollar (per day) Mexican insurance policy is mandatory, and the car must be returned to its original U.S. location. We have not used this service, but we would like to hear from readers who have. If you have a story or advice regarding Advantage or a Mexican car rental service, please comment or email us. Excerpts from juicier emails may be featured on the blog.

Also, in all due fairness I should mention that Butch rented Especial (see post below for details) during the Christmas holidays and Especial was literally the last car on the lot. Presumably, all of the nicer vehicles were already packed with screaming children and headed for the coast to terrorize sleepy beach bums . I don’t want our experience to discourage other travelers from renting a vehicle in Mexico, as taking a drive is a great way to jump start your Mexico adventure (sometimes literally). Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

On the road in The Sweat Lodge…

January 23, 2012 | 6 Comments

by Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

Ah, vans! Tina Rosa, on the far right.

Mexico used to have a real van culture. I grew up in it. When I was two months old, we traveled across the border in a Dodge camper my parents called the Sweat Lodge. The Sweat Lodge was succeeded by a white Chevy van we called Cebu, and then by Jolly, a Forest Service green Dodge van my dad bought at a government auction.

All these vehicles were tricked out as homes on wheels. My sainted mother sewed curtains for the windows, and Steve built his “food box”, a giant cube of plywood with a lid that folded out into a tiny counter. With this contraption Steve could set up a kitchen in under 60 seconds; it was perfect for emergency roadside cooking.

 

Jolly

The box was packed with obscure ingredients, including an arsenal of spices that would have put many a gourmet restaurant to shame. If you tried to tease my dad about it, he’d get a wounded expression, as though to ask:

“What kind of philistine would embark on a four month trip without Fenugreek leaf?”

 

Steve Rogers

In those days, campgrounds and camping beaches were crowded with vans and small campers from the U.S and Canada, and I was always on the lookout for interesting new arrivals. When a van (perhaps billowing smoke and loaded with surf boards) would cruise down the beach road or into the campground, I’d crane to see if it had other kids on board. After waiting a respectful moment that allowed the newcomers to hang their hammocks,  inevitably Steve would amble over to the new vehicle to talk roads, routes, and rigs with the drivers.

As an adult, I made my first drive in a ’94 Nissan pick-up named El Gato Negro. When El Gato retired, I caught my next ride in Miss Lousianne, my friend Tia’s intrepid ’87 Dodge van. Loaded to the gills with camping gear, Miss Lousianne traversed the highlands and the coast. I was depressed to note very few gringos traveling by van and pick-up. I am always impressed by the intrepid snowbirds who still wend their way south in RVs every winter, but I’m a little sad that my own generation is missing out on the joys of driving in Mexico.

 

Churpa and Steve. In the background you can see Cebu

Yes, the joys of driving in Mexico. It’s true that everyone drives like a maniac, but once you adopt the maniac mentality,  the rules of the road are liberating. Due to the hazardous nature of the art form, your average Mexican driver is more aware. There’s a give and take to Mexican driving, a sort of feral politeness. Yes, the truck overloaded with mattresses will cut you off, but an hour later when you suddenly realize you have to get over a lane, he’ll also let you in. Of course, all these joys turn to ashes if you have to, say, navigate the length of Guadalajara, hellish glorietas and all.

But the real benefit to having a car in Mexico is the enhanced ability to explore. On our last drive south, we explored an abandoned resort, huddled in Miss Louisianne for 48 hours straight during a spectacular coastal storm, and enjoyed many an impromptu carnita stop. Nothing can match the ability to stop at every interesting roadside eatery or make an abrupt right when you see a promising road heading in a beachly direction. Not to mention all those fascinating mechanics you meet…

Our finances did not allow a lengthy road trip this year and I was reduced to traveling por avion to Mexico City. I was thus greatly pleased when my friends Butch and Sara invited me to tag along on their road trip to Michoacan. We would have a rental car! I imagined myself traveling in air-conditioned luxury, a far cry from the rattling vans that are my normal lot in life.

In typical Mexican fashion, things didn’t got quite as planned. Although Butch took to Mexican driving (being a bush pilot in Alaska probably helps), the car wasn’t exactly a chariot. We dubbed it Muy Especial because it demanded special treatment, including periodic push starts. I spent half the trip begging water from mystified campesinos, who were out of sight of the highway and thus unable to see Especial, steaming and spouting coolant. Even when I think I’m finally high flying, somehow I always end up down by the side of the road.

 

The author peering from van.

Stay tuned for the 14th edition of the People’s Guide and a new story on one of my more alarming memories of Steve as chauffeur.

 

Eating Around Mexico

January 22, 2012 | 2 Comments

by Rich Peterson

“I don’t know, it’s looking rather sparse out here,” Abigail proclaimed from the driver’s seat. “I think we might be out of luck, guys.” Though the four of us in the Dodge van traveling north toward Nogales had already eaten at a taqueria  just a few hours earlier, our impending return to the United States had us already missing Mexico; especially the food. We all agreed we wanted tacos one more time before we crossed the border.

Churpa, being fond of listing and categorizing things with people, asked from the passenger side, “What was your favorite meal on this trip?”

“Tacos de cabeza!” Abigail proclaimed immediately. Everybody else groaned, having not ventured that far. “They were great. I loved them. You guys missed out.” She replied, punctuating each word of the last sentence.

“That’s a hard question,” I said trying to remember everything I’d eaten on the trip. “Cuca’s chile rellenos were more than worthy of the praise,” I added, and was was met with agreement from my fellow travelers. “And I still think about the birria on Gringo Day in Rebalcito.”

“I loved the spring rolls and the sushi at Chile and Maryanne’s on our last night at the beach,” Churpa paused in thought, trying to place herself back in that moment.

“And the stumblers.” I added, referring to Chile’s extra strong and super tasty margaritas. Churpa groaned, Abigail cooed.

“Oooh, the stumblers!”

“They’re evil,” Churpa replied.

“Evil and delicious,” laughed Abigail.

“The huachinango al ajillo at Mosca’s” Kamari piped in, prompting a cascade of favorites from Mosca’s, mine being the camarones al ajillo.

As I racked my brain for anything that could top Cuca’s rellenos or the Gringo Day birria, I realized that it was quite a task. The albondigas at the restaurant in Agua Prieta just blocks from the border still stood out in my mind, as did the carnitas at the tianguis in San Miguel. Several meals in our camp on the beach also stood out, including mahi mahi hash I made for breakfast with the last of the fish our neighbor, Bob, had given to us.

“Taco Carretas in Mazatlán.” Churpa said slowly, poking the air with her index finger for emphasis. The rest of us agreed. We had asked our cab driver to take us to a good taqueria, and he took us far from the hotels on the beach to a relatively large and busy taqueria deeper in the city. It was worth the cab fare and the curious looks.

“What’s that?” Churpa pointed to a white blob on the left up ahead. Kamari and I leaned forward and peered ahead.

“It’s a building!” Abigail exclaimed.

It was a lone buiding built at the base of a low ridge. As we pulled closer we could make out the ubiquitous plastic tables used by restaurants, comedors, taquerias, and just about everywhere food is served in Mexico. Even closer and we could make out smoke rising.

“It’s a taqueria! Pull over!”

“I am,” Abigail shot back, turning the wheel. The four of us were out of the van as soon as Abigail brought it to a stop. We ordered our tacos and beer, then took a seat. Part weary and homesick from a long trip through Mexico, but also sad to be waiting for our last tacos before crossing the border, the four of us watched the bubbles in our beers.

“So,” Churpa broke the reverie, trying to cheer us up, “What’s the first thing you want to eat when you get back the U.S.?

Folkloric angels dressed in Jaguar skins? We’re in!

January 21, 2012 | Leave a Comment

By Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

One of our longtime favorite websites, ColonialMexico.com, does a monthly feature on colonial Mexican artwork. This month’s article discusses el barocco Poblano. The photographs of an amazingly gaudy “folk baroque” church are well worth your time, provided, of course, that you are the sort of person who enjoys pictures of minute folkloric angels dressed in Jaguar skins.

Life goes on…

January 20, 2012 | Leave a Comment

by Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

photo credit: Tina Rosa

I just received an update and photos from my sainted mother, who is happy out in the rancho near San Miguel de Allende, Gto. Which reminds me…While the mainstream media screeches about the dangers of Mexico, an army of bloggers offer a more salubrious perspective on day-t0-day life down south.

We don’t need reminding of why we love Mexico, but Mexican Trailrunner’s description of an incident at the mercado warms the heart nonetheless.

For a foray into the mouthwatering culinary wonderland of Mexico City, check out Nicholas Gilman’s blog. Gilman writes well and he obviously knows what he is talking about. I particularly enjoyed this post on Mexican food regions and corresponding D.F. restaurants.

Meanwhile, Countdown to Mexico describes daily life in Mazatlan, yet another example of how life goes on for expats, even in states such as Sinaloa that are known problem areas.

 

The Mexico you love is still here

January 17, 2012 | 5 Comments

by Churpa Rosa Rogers

As a kid, I was accustomed to the double take, the long stare, the muffled giggle. We spent months of each year traveling the backgrounds of Mexico and Guatemala, and we ended up in a lot of places where the locals hadn’t seen a gringo in years. Of course that was back in the days when Americans were afraid to go to Mexico because they were convinced the country was overrun with murderous banditos and crooked cops. Oh wait…

photo credit: Tina Rosa

After decades of grumbling about tourists crowding my favorite haunts, this December I felt like I’d time-traveled back to the days when Mexico was a truly exotic destination. Upon arrival, my friend Chelsea and I got the eerie impression that we were the only gringas in Mexico City. When I traveled to Michoacan to see the monarch butterflies, my friends and I were, in fact,  the only Americans in the town of Ocampo (despite the town’s proximity to a famous tourist destination). In San Miguel de Allende, I saw a healthy number of local expats, but very few American, Canadian, or European travelers. My friend Carlos says enrollment in his Spanish classes is down by 50%.

Why is Mexico so empty? Part of the drop in tourism is the result of the crappy global economy. The other reason is just as obvious, but it doesn’t make as much sense.

Many travelers seem to understand that some parts of Mexico are relatively safe (Cancun remains inexplicably popular), but I don’t think Americans and Canadians realize how many parts of the country are relatively safe. As Tony Burton reports at the excellent Geo-Mexico blog, narco-related deaths in 2011 were heavily concentrated in eight states: Chihuahua, Guerrero, Nuevo León, Tamaulipas, Durango, Jalisco, State of México, and Coahuila. Mexico has 31 states and a Federal District. When it comes to the narco wars, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato isn’t even on the map.  But even in areas that do register on the narco violence radar, tourists are statistically unlikely to be targeted. For example, Burton’s co-author Richard Rhoda notes that an American who visits Mexico City is more likely to die of a traffic accident in the US than as a result of drug violence in Mexico City. 83 times more likely, in fact.

Here at the People’s Guide, we enjoy statistics, but we are even more fond of anecdotal evidence. To this end, I recently conducted a highly scientific survey of safety in Mexico.  The results: Mexico feels just as safe as it ever has.  I did not encounter crooked cops, nor was I menaced by black Escalades. I was not mugged, beaten, robbed, or executed. On my entire trip, I was the victim of one crime: someone (presumably an employee of United Airlines) stole a bottle of 12 year Flor de Caña rum out of my suitcase while en route between Houston and Portland, Oregon.

To the casual traveler, the most noticeable effect of narco violence is the lack of foreign tourists. The overall number of visitors to Mexico is at its lowest level in 15 years, and my trip through the highlands definitely illustrated this statistic. I might have enjoyed ‘authentic’ gringo-free vistas if it weren’t for my gnawing sadness for the people who are hard hit. Everywhere I went, I saw hotel owners and waiters tending to empty businesses with a resigned dignity that is muy Mexicano. Meanwhile, with equally typical cynical optimism, Mexican politicians and tourism authorities are counting on an ‘end of the world’ tourism boom for 2012. I’ll believe that when I see it. The good news is that Mexico is still here, and these days the entire country feels off-the-beaten path.

photo credit: Tina Rosa

 

 

 

 

Green Map San Miguel

January 14, 2012 | 2 Comments

By Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

As Lorena dredges through her bottomless inbox she often sends me tidbits. This one struck my fancy: Green Map San Miguel or Mapa Verde San Miguel allows visitors to search a directory of sustainable goods and services in the San Miguel Area. A calendar provides info on upcoming events, including bird walks, eco-tours, workshops, documentary showings, organic farmers’ markets, volunteer opportunities, and activities for kids. The site features an interactive map of the town that shows bus routes. Pages are legitimately bilingual, which I appreciate, and the tone is informative, rather than commercial. Very cool.

Mexico News Round-up

January 13, 2012 | 1 Comment

By Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

Carl is on a rampage this week and has been inundating my inbox with interesting Mexico links. For instance….

Mexico Security Consultant Walter Mckay gives CBC News a rundown of current cartel hotspots and points out that the cartels aren’t really out for gringo blood. Mckay’s website provides interactive graphics with current data on murder rates in problem areas.

Residents propose a controversial solution to the recent crime wave in Ajijic. Should American expats pony up to help fight crime in Mexico? We’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. For more Tim Johnson, check out his blog.

Meanwhile, Robert Remmington points out that according to statistics, a Canadian is more likely to get murdered in Calgary than in Mexico. This reminds me of my dad, who always said the scariest part of going to Mexico was driving through LA. Of course, that was back in the good old days. That said, I didn’t feel threatened on my recent trip to Mexico, which included a stay in Mexico City and a foray into the wilds of Michoacan. More on that later.

 

 

Ghosts at the Hotel Isabel: Saludos de John Ross

December 27, 2011 | Leave a Comment

by Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

Hotel Isabel--photo by Chelsea Mcalister

The pretty teenage receptionist at the front desk of the Hotel Isabel is miffed that I don’t have a  reservation and we spend the next 20 minutes negotiating my room, wake-up call, and tomorrow’s 5 AM taxi to the airport, all of which entails filling out paperwork in triplicate, as per the Mexican custom. “The electricity is out and so is the water,” she mentions blandly as she hands me my room key.  “The elevator and television and Internet don’t work either,” she says. “Do you still want to stay?”

When I question her further, she is typically vague about the reason for the outage: “they’re doing something to the street”, and alarmingly definitive about the likelihood of the power and water coming back on anytime soon: “en realidad, no”.  In the land of mañana and mas tarde and ahorita, being told a definite” no” is almost startling.

This is a testament to my devotion to the Hotel Isabel, I think as I drag my heavy hard-shell suitcases up the first flight of stairs. I never thought I’d miss the Isabel’s tiny deathtrap of an elevator, but ascending six flights of stairs in complete darkness makes the claustrophobia of the lurching tin box seem positively civilized by comparison. As I peer down the hotel’s spectral Colonial hallways looking for room 306, I question my own sanity. A rational person, I think, would have hailed another taxi instead of paying full price for a parched, pitch-black hotel room. As I squint at the dark numbers at the tops of the 14-foot wooden doorways, I curse the teenage receptionist. She could at least have given me a candle.

But when dropping into The Big Enchilada, a home away from home is indispensable. Besides, there’s just something about the Isabel. When I finally find my room and unlock the door, I’m glad I didn’t get back in the taxi. The familiar pink 1980s bedroom set looks strangely beautiful in the ancient room with its 16-foot ceilings and rickety wardrobe. A narrow window looks out on the roof of the former National Library. Like most of the buildings in Mexico City’s Centro Historico, the stone-scrolled fortress looks like it has provided the backdrop for at least one tragic conspiracy, three or four wars, and a handful of long-forgotten crimes of passion.

Speaking of which, the Hotel Isabel has been in operation as a hotel for over 100 years, and the institution gives new meaning to the term “storied”. I’ve loved the Isabel for more than a decade, and beat poet John Ross  has been confirming my sense that the former Colonial mansion is a world unto itself. Ross moved to Mexico in 1957 and spent the last 25 years of his life at the Isabel, during which time he kept his ears to the ground and his fingers tapped on the pulse of the most improbable city on earth. My nonfiction read for this trip is El Monstruo:  Dread and Redemption in Mexico City, Ross’s gutsy ode to the city he knew best. Drawing from street gossip, interviews with local characters, dusty news archives, and the writings of some of the city’s finest scholars and troublemakers, Ross has created a masterwork that is at once a colorful leftwing diatribe, a serious work of scholarship, and a hell of a story.

As I breath the familiar smell of diesel exhaust  and tacos that wafts up from Isabel la Catolica street along with a cacophony of horns, mufflerless VW bugs, and the vehement whistling of traffic cops, I contemplate a few of Ross’s stories: D.H. Lawrence drinking at the bar Isabel; Lawrence’s acquaintance, the British writer Wilfred Ewert, who was shot on an Isabel balcony on New Year’s Eve 1923; and Ross himself, who entangled himself in the city’s violent political struggles, marched with the Zapatistas, and died here in Mexico on January 17, 2011.

After freshening up as best I can with a bottle of drinking water, I go out for tacos al pastor and a Victoria at La Bota, a local bar that’s like a living work of folk art. It’s Friday night and the neighborhood buzzes with life, but I’ve got a plane to catch in the morning, so I return to the Isabel to settle down for my last night in Mexico. Much to my amazement, the lights are back on. This is a very good thing: Not only is the Isabel way less creepy by lamplight, but El Monstruo awaits.

After reading through the Aztec bloodbaths and the era of the great Zapata and the colorful years when Che and Frida and Trotsky crossed paths, I’ve reached the modern era. Ross was personally involved in the political turmoil of the 80s and 90s, and the latter half of the book is a dissection of modern Mexican politics, marked by a level of detail and nuance that is exceptional, particularly for an English-language publication. Ross’s voice is scathing and deeply opinionated—his sympathies emerge only in his coverage of everyday people: the 70-year-old former boxer who hauls suitcases at the Isabel, a friendly local fence, the activist mother of a student activist who disappeared in ’68, a street musician called “El Vampiro”, and the hundreds of downtown residents who dug their neighbors out of the rubble when the government failed to respond to the great earthquake of ‘85. Ross’s palpable love for Mexico and Mexicans gives life to the book. Like the Hotel Isabel, El Monstruo is a monument to the perverse, splendid, and bad ass spirit of Mexico.

 

Churpa’s Dispatch from San Miguel #1

December 15, 2011 | Leave a Comment

By Churpa Rosa Rogers

photo by Chelsea Mcalister

When it comes to Mexico, I tend to experience one-sided culture shock: I am shocked by my inevitable and unwilling return to the United States, but rarely shocked to find myself down south. Even if it’s been a year or more, a return to Mexico always feels as natural as slipping into a warm bath. That said, I always experience a few days of jubilation at all the tiny Mexican details that make me feel so at home: the smell of cement dust and Mexican laundry detergent and tortillas;  dueling banda, corridos, and hip-hop blasting from the ranchitos that spot the seemingly peaceful countryside; the array of sagging cement balconies, unmarked construction holes in the middle of pedestrian thoroughfares, and other minor dangers that give a middle finger to our American culture of litigation.

Like the delicious smell of tacos al pastor or the late afternoon light saturating the Colonial facades of San Miguel de Allende, the constant murmur of Spanish soothes a soul battered by an overly long stay in the el norte.

photo by Chelsea Mcalister

Speaking of which, my friend Chelsea and I met a  kindly gentleman in Mexico City who offered to tell us about the nuances in Diego Rivera’s murals in the Palacio Nacional. As Angel showed us the panel that illustrates the Colombian exchange and the importance of American native plants, Chelsea and I exclaimed “Muy interesante!”. When Angel expounded on dogs as an Aztec delicacy and drew our attention to the various fat canines in Rivera’s murals, Chelsea and I exclaimed “Muy interesante!”. When Angel pointed out the image of a Spaniard branding an Indian slave, Chelsea and I exclaimed…well you get the drift. Sluggish from a long damp autumn in Oregon, my brain seems incapable of generating appropriate adjectives. Which brings me back to my annual realization: I don’t so much need to expand my vocabulary as I need to bring words that I already know into circulation. To brush up, I’ve been eavesdropping, reading Mexican Glamour,  and perusing the glossaries of two of my favorite books on Mexico:  El Monstruo: Dread and Redemption in Mexico City by John Ross and, of course, The People’s Guide.  Here’s some words I hope I’ll be using on this trip:

compinche—buddy

beso—smooth

neta—the coolest

zafarrancho–ruckus

banquetazo—big meal

fritanga—greasy fried snack

chelas—beers

Here’s some words I hope won’t be needing:

bruja—broke, poor

aguacero—downpour

caco–thief

bronca—brawl

fracaso—bungled mess, failure

foco—guerilla grouplet

vacunacion de rabia—rabies vaccination

 

 

 

 

 

Safety Update from Mexico City

December 7, 2011 | 1 Comment

By Felisa Churpa Rosa Rogers

Flying into Mexico City always feels like descending into the coliseum. You never know what’ll be coming at you, or whether you’re a spectator or part of the show. This trip I was particularly wary, as I haven’t been to the Big Enchilada since the escalation of the drug wars.

When I was a kid my parents used to take me on buying trips to the capitol. We’d hit up the labyrinthine markets for Guerrero masks, and stay at our favorite hotel right off of Garibaldi square. These trips were exciting, but beset with haggling and harassment, from shady cab drivers to gropers in the subway.

It may be my imagination, but Mexico City has a different tenor these days. I’m not claiming it’s safe, but El Monstruo is definitely well-organized and easy to deal with, as far as metropolises go. Official cab stands at the airport ensure that you’ll get a fair price, traffic signals are functional, the subway is efficient, and, on the whole, people are polite, if disinterested. In the past ten years I’ve noticed that D.F. is the one place in Mexico where you are almost guaranteed anonymity—no one seems impressed or interested in gringo cachet; the hiss of “Guerra!” doesn’t accompany my every footfall. That said, when I made a point to engage with people, I found them to be totally polite and bien chido. Another plus: as my friend Chelsea marveled, no one tried to sell us anything the entire time we were there.

photo by Chelsea Mcalister

The steps the government has taken to make the city easy for foreigners and the general courtesy of the populace do nothing to mar the fantastically crazy spectacle that makes the city well worth your visit: a day in El Centro Historico offers a thousand marvels. Baroque stonework drips from every artifice, yet the street level is a glorious Mexican mishmash: smoky taquerias with sizzling spits of delectable carne al pastor rub shoulders with fancy department stores and old world gentlemen’s clubs. And of course that’s just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

I detected no signs of violence, but the police presence was intense: I probably saw a hundred cops on my first day in town, and security is rigorous at bus stations and federal buildings. That said, la policia seemed fairly relaxed. Wandering the Alameda, Chelsea and I encountered a line of cops in full riot gear standing guard at the east end of the park. Despite their outfits, they seemed blasé: they stood about chatting with shields down and didn’t give us, or anyone else, a second glance. Meanwhile the denizens of El Monstruo ignored the police presence and went about their business: hawking and buying tacos, jugos, and refrescos; reading in the patchy grass; necking passionately on park benches.

While the police population is significantly larger than I remembered, the gringo population has dwindled to an anemic trickle of backpackers, students, and expats. Most of the tourists at our hotel were Mexican, and we saw only a few Americans and Canadians in the cafes and bars. Granted, I try to stay off the beaten part of the gringo path, but I’m usually not quite that successful! While catching a ride out of La Condesa, I chatted with a portly cab driver. “People are scared to come to Mexico City, but it’s not dangerous,” he said, narrowly missing a motorcycle and cheerfully laying on the horn. I told him I’d pass that on to my gringo friends. “Yes,” he said with enthusiasm, “Tell them Mexico City is bien padre y muy chingon!”

Oaxaca: Housing Rental

August 21, 2011 | Leave a Comment

Do bloggers have recommendations regarding affordable rental housing in Oaxaca?

Blogging thru Mexico

December 14, 2010 | Leave a Comment

Hola! I’m a 60 year old lesbian womon from Berkeley on a Joiyssey, driving my casa-camion sola through Mexico (I’ve been here about 6 weeks now), learning Spanish, hoping to become fluent, and eventually exploring all the Central American countries – and maybe even make my way into South America.

I keep a blog, www.codepinkjournals.blogspot.com where you’ll find out way too much information about me and my journey. Feel free to check it out, comment, or not! Peace, Xan Joi

Kids; Made in Mexico and brought from Mexico

October 26, 2010 | Leave a Comment

For years we tried unsuccessfully to have children. Our doctor at the time kept prescribing different colored pills and was totally freaked at our suggestion that perhaps we should take our Mexican friend’s advice to go see a curandera, or natual healing person.
When we showed up the following winter still not embarasada(pregnant), our family in Mexico had had enough, and before we knew it, we were at Dona Marias house and the ‘cure’ was on.
Dona Maria sent Tacho and I off to the forest, the market and to and indigenous pueblo to collect such things as damiana, sexogil, coyote, te de manzanilla and some other stuff we never really did know how to pronounce. This was all mixed up into a warm beverage to be taken as a prescribed application and in conjunction with three 45 min. massage treatments with a day between to recover, we were sent on our way with a smile, blessings and a stern reminder to bring our baby for her to see when we were back next year.
As encouraging as she was, after all we’d been through we were hopefull, but reserved.
Yep.. you guessed it! Baby girl! Our Canadian Dr. wouldn’t belive it.
Lucky? Hardly! We tried to have another child, but couldn’t, so we went to Dona Maria again and…..you betcha!..number two!
No chickens were sacrificed…no hocus-pocus…and as Carl Franz says in PGM: it didn’t take place in “a bat filled cave”, but in her living room. Only two ladies and my wife were allowed in the room.
That’s how we built our family..But wait..we’re going to need a babysitter!
So, we brought a couple our ‘family’s’ children to British Columbia for a few years of reality NOB.
As you may very well imagine, our extended family is something we cherrish and continue to build upon.
I miss them all when I’m away. Hopefully not away much longer.

Alan Armstrong

Mexico’s violence doesn’t scare off tourists | Seattle Times Newspaper

October 12, 2010 | 4 Comments

In a surprising turnabout, international tourism to Mexico showed a sharp increase this summer — a sign that tourists may be putting aside worries about the economy and fears of drug-related violence, analysts say.

Foreign visitors arriving by air to Mexico jumped to 7.1 million in the first eight months of the year — up nearly 20 percent from the same period in 2009 — with most visitors coming from the U.S. and Canada, according to Mexican tourism officials.

via seattletimes.nwsource.com

A Perk of Our Evolution – Pleasure in Pain of Chilies – NYTimes.com

September 21, 2010 | 1 Comment

Some experts argue that we like chilies because they are good for us. They can help lower blood pressure, may have some antimicrobial effects, and they increase salivation, which is good if you eat a boring diet based on one bland staple crop like corn or rice. The pain of chilies can even kill other pain, a concept supported by recent research.

via nytimes.com

This might help you understand why eating chilies “hurts so good”.

Weary of drug war, Mexico debates legalization | Seattle Times Newspaper

September 13, 2010 | 5 Comments

MEXICO CITY — A debate about legalizing marijuana and possibly other drugs — once a taboo suggestion — is percolating in Mexico, a nation exhausted by runaway violence and a deadly drug war.

The debate is only likely to grow more animated if Californians approve an initiative on Nov. 2 to legalize marijuana for recreational use in their state.

Mexicans are keeping a close eye on the vote, seeing it as a bellwether.

“If they vote ‘yes’ to approve the full legalization of marijuana, I think it will have a radical impact in Mexico,” said Jorge Hernandez Tinajero, a political scientist at the National Autonomous University.

via seattletimes.nwsource.com

Ebyline Wants to Create an iTunes for Journalism – NYTimes.com

September 10, 2010 | Leave a Comment

the relationship between freelance journalists and the newspapers, magazines and websites they write for is archaic and inefficient (as someone who recently worked for a major newspaper, I can vouch for this). Freelancers have to cold-call publishers and then negotiate their own rates, then they have to invoice and manage their own billing and payment. Ebyline automates that process, handling all the billing and payment between the writer and the publisher. Freelancers can also “self-syndicate” by putting their content up for bid in Ebyline’s marketplace.

via nytimes.com

In a recent post on Talk About Mexico, Jeff O’Brian questioned how a writer can survive financially in the current free-for-all state of affairs that exists on the internet. Yesterday’s request for paid writers by Robin Noelle of Facebook is one possibility, and this NY Times article about an online journalism broker could well be another. Syndication of articles about Mexico has the potential to produce serious income for a serious working writer.

Mexico Writer$ Needed

September 9, 2010 | 2 Comments

Hi Lorena and Carl!

I just wanted to let you know that I'm now the regional Mexico editor for 

http://www.facebook.com/l/113c8swSUxLJy2s7X-hRMrV9JyA;NileGuide.com 

and that I have 15-20 paid writing positions available for writers living in Mexico.

 

The position pays a flat rate for two months ($250 US) and then moves to a minimum of $100, with a performance bonus based on pageviews. 

I need two types of writers – Regional and Anchor. The Regional writer will write about a specific region and the Anchors will write about a specific city. They should live in the areas they apply to write for. They should also have a writing background and some knowledge of social networking.

This is not for feature writing, but for writing guidebook entries and making must-see guides for each area. There will be opportunity to promote a business or website as well. If you know of anyone interested or want to post this on your website or FB page, just have people contact me via email at LaOvejitaNegra@gmail.com for more information.

Hope you are both doing well!

Robin Noelle


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