To Mexico

It started awhile ago. No, maybe further back than that even. But the day JC insisted we could, nay should, move to Mexico right away, is a good place to start. We both agreed we wanted to move to Mexico - likely Guanajuato - but I was initially skeptical that we should do it so soon. "Let's be sensible. Let's include it in a 10 year, or maybe 5 year plan," I argued as I started to google "houses in Guanajauto for sale." I realized this was possible, and if JC was this motivated, I had no excuse for putting it off. I felt I'd love to live in Mexico - I really wanted to become bilingual, and connect with my roots. It was close enough to easily get to friends and family for occasional visits - and for them to get to me - but still quite different, in mostly positive ways. I mean, Canada is close, but a little too much like the USA.

So, it happened. Or, it's happening. And, it has been incredibly difficult.

Oddly, the first issue that caused me great consternation was what to do about our three remaining chickens. Over the past few years, we had adopted chickens, and although we lost a few over time, we had three that could live for years still. Sure, we could grab them by the head and twirl them around vigorously until their heads snapped off, as I understand is a common practice on small farms and such; but we really loved those birds. So, we found them a good home, we think, and continued on our path.

Far more significant is leaving behind our friends, but in particular, our one close friend who is still too young to do things like get his own passport and buy a plane ticket to visit us in Mexico. If it was not the first issue that caused me great consternation, it is only because I felt that our friend, and my mentee, FP, had grown quite a bit and, unlike chickens, could call, text, and recognize that the future would be different from the present and the past. Yet, spending time with a kid every week for three years, and then leaving for a foreign country, could still be pretty jarring.

But there was a twist. After making the decision to move to Mexico, specifically Guanajuato, we found out that FP's family is from Guanajuato! Not, specifically, Guanajuato City, but the state nonetheless; and not that far from our new home. So we're there for him to visit, when he can; and, as much as possible, we are on our computers or smart phones whenever he'd like to text or play roblox (is it ok for someone in their 40's to play roblox?).

Moving anywhere is not easy. It is not really a choice for most people most of the time. Or, at least, to the extent people choose to move, there are a lot of reasons beyond their control that strongly encourage that move. And, their choice itself is very limited in scope and direction. Of course, that was true for us as well - all of it - but as a matter of degree, I recognize that we largely chose to move to a foreign country, and a beautiful town, and that move has been empowered by a certain amount of privilege that most people don't have. As I write, a lot of people are being crammed into concentration camps who are trying to move in the other direction across the US/Mexico border. As difficult as our move has been, reflecting on what these people have been through makes me feel incredibly lucky (if not a little ashamed).

What's happening at the border is part of a frightening political climate in the U.S. Not to say that all of politics in the U.S. is frightening, just that the increasing demonization and abuse of immigrants is part of ascendant right-wing politics; and it exists in the U.S., probably, more than most other countries in this hemisphere. But I am not moving to Mexico to escape this; indeed, I see an ascendant left as well. And that is reason enough to stay. But life is short right?

I have lived in San Francisco for fifteen years. It is an amazing and beautiful city, but sometimes a really difficult place to live, especially if you're not rich. On the one hand, I feel I've benefited from the people who came before to fight for a place that provided more humanity to its residents than many other places, but on the other hand, I've been caught in the difficult pressures of a city that has more billionaires per capita than any other city on the planet. So, I have been able to live in San Francisco, and even prosper a little; but now I'm able to take that prosperity and make the choice to move away - and (probably) be ok.

To reiterate though, and with acknowledgement of my relative privilege, it has not been easy. First we had to figure out the byzantine Mexican property and real estate laws that required years of study, first mastering Spanish, and then the many statutes and legal opinions. Or perhaps I'm misremembering. On second thought, we trusted the agent we found with the best website in Guanajuato City, who also happened to be representing the sellers, somehow. Gerardo, actually turned out to be worthy of a lot of trust and good karma, and he somehow helped both us and the sellers get a good deal! That seems sarcastic, but in retrospect, I think he did. The family that sold us their house did not get exactly what they wanted, but likely got more than the house was worth on paper. We paid a bit more than the house was worth on paper, but we got a great house that the family would probably not have sold to anyone else for less; at least not anytime soon. It's a unique place - with plenty of yard for our dogs - an uncommon feature in Guanajuato.

Speaking of dogs, getting down to Guanajuato ultimately required that we either give away two of our three dogs, have them euthanized, or drive from San Francisco to Central Mexico with three dogs in a hatchback. Our dogs are family, so it was not an easy decision. Ultimately, we packed them in the car - giving them more space than the amount reserved for humans and their belongings - and we drove for four days with them on board. Compounding the challenge was our vegetarianism. Taco bell and Subway was generally the easiest quick stop for nourishment without consuming flesh. Two or three times, we ate our seven-layer burritos, and then fed the dogs their dinner in a fast-food parking lot. Shockingly, there were no Taco Bells in Mexico that we could find, but cheese, crackers and granola bars kept us moving.

Among other adventures, a two lane highway appeared to get us around Los Angeles ten minutes quicker during rush hour, but appearances can be deceiving. Right fucking Google maps?!?! Everything was going fine until we were forced off the main road onto side roads - mostly made of dirt; and some quite rugged - due to some police activity of some sort. As we drove along to where I thought we could turn and get back on the main highway, a woman, not wearing any sort of law enforcement outfit, and in a tight-fitting, t-shirt, top, directed us to continue on the dirt road straight ahead. Why should we do what this lady says? Is this a scam? Was she directing us to some off-the-road diner that rarely gets this much traffic? We still don't know for sure, though we saw no diners. Turns out there was some bad accident on the main road; forcing all traffic onto the dusty side roads.

Then there were our "dogs allowed" hotels. Most had a two dog limit, so that made me nervous; and all had a no dog pee on the carpets or beds policy, so that also made me nervous. At one, the sign out front said to check in at the restaurant, and the cook kindly asked me to wait until he finished with the cheesesteak he was making, before assisting me. At another, our smallest dog made a run for it, but found only yards and yards of floral-patterned carpet as she set off at full speed, probably in search of the home we left behind; which I'm sure she assumed was just around the corner or something.

Our first day driving into Mexico was one of few expectations, because we had no idea what to expect. Various websites and blogs all had contradictory information, and immigration and border-crossing laws, policies, and practices are ever evolving - on both sides of the border. Nobody on the U.S. side seemed to care about people leaving. On the Mexican side, we stopped at the immigration office, but could not leave the dogs in the car out in the hot sun, alone. So, after three hours of switching places, waiting in various lines, and getting various documents stamped, we finally had time to change our hotel reservation, since there was no way we were making it to Torreon that night. One last thing, we had to get through the customs inspection. How long would that take? As it turned out, about 20 seconds. A friendly, female agent, had us open the back of the car, seemed unphased by the dogs scream-barking at her, looked at a couple of things, and then sent us on our way.

The roads in Mexico were generally fine - as long as you stayed on the toll roads. In fact 60% were better than the U.S. roads; 30% were about the same; and 10% were far worse. But it was generally pretty smooth. Except for one thing. Is there an unusual amount of static electricity on the roads in Mexico. JC shocked almost every toll booth agent he handed pesos to. One was grateful, as she previously suffered an irregular heartbeat.

And then we made it to our new home. I actually have had to go back to SF for various reasons, and we're still waiting to wrap up some things, but for all intents and purposes, we live here now. We'll see how it goes.