A Boat Tour in the Mexican Caribbean

My family and I just spent a wonderful month in Mexico, and I have so many things to write about that I'm not sure where to start.  But for now, I'll just start with something easy - a relaxing and fun boat trip we went on on Saturday.

The trip started just out of Cancun, and took us around Isla Mujeres, a beautiful little island where Mexico's old Caribbean lifestyle can still be seen.

Here are some pictures.

This is the dock where the trip started.  We had breakfast in the larger hut at the back:

The twins, on board:

Getting ready to snorkel:

 The two older sons, watching me snorkel:

This is the view they had.  My oldest son claims he knows which one was me:

After snorkeling, with my lovely wife:

A typical hotel on Isla Mujeres:

A traditional wooden house on the island, in this case converted into a shop; this kind of simple wooden house was typical on the Mexican Caribbean before tourism took off.  Now everything is concrete.  I can imagine that these would stand up to a hurricane too well, but these little homes seem to have been around for a while:

Most homes have images of this sort:

The island's church; nothing "fancy" but the people's devotion and respect is truly beautiful:

 This is the beach where we spent the afternoon:

Some of the docks in the fishermen's district of the island; many of these local fisherman had their dock, home and a little restaurant all next to each other:

Although it's not very clear in this picture, this haphazard home is built of bamboo on a floating island. The island was made of old plastic bottles, covered with plastic and then soil on top:

Dinner at the beach club:

The view of the beach from the beach club:

My oldest son enjoying a dip in the pool:

Back on the boat, one of the crew members (the bartender) caught this barracuda:

This is one of the last pictures from the trip:

After my wife took this picture, the barracuda jumped and got the hook caught in the wrist of the man who caught it.  It was a very large and thick hook (2 1/2 inches or so).  Seeing the accident put her into shock; combined with low blood pressure and the motion of the boat, this was enough to put her out of commission for the next 24 hours!  She spent the night in the hospital.  Thankfully, she is much better now!

The fisherman downplayed the pain, and claimed that this kind of thing was normal for people who live at sea. I saw him as we got off the boat and he was smiling and waving.  I assume that he had removed the hook in a procedure similar to section 2 of this diagram:

In any case, that didn't help my wife very much.  But otherwise the trip was very enjoyable!

It's also worth noting that we were the only couple who brought our kids with us.  The other couples left their kids at home to enjoy a vacation alone.  While I understand that couples do need a break from the kids now and then, our trip was that much better simply because we brought them!  They loved it and so did we.

Another Beer, with a Mexican Snack ...

Tonight's Mix:

Leon Beer
The dark "Munich-style" beer I mentioned in yesterday's post. (see Mexican Beers - 2 of My Favorites.)

Chicharron
This is fried pork skin, that is dry kind of like chips.  As unappetizing as the description usually sounds, it's delicious.  Not the healthiest thing in the world, but tasty.

Valentina Sauce
This is a favourite Mexican sauce, good for just about everything from eggs to popcorn, french fries to pizza (if you're Mexican, that is.)  Tonight it's going on the chicharron.

Not a bad Mexican snack.  The beer is my favorite part.

The unusual part of the mix is Leonard Cohen.  Not very Mexican.

By the way, I go the chip for my camera (well, actually for my wife's camera; I don't own cameras.  If I do, she expropriates them.)  So, today I have a better picture.  Tomorrow I'll have more pictures of the city and other stuff, once again.

Mexican Beers - 2 of My Favorites

I don't have a whole to do on weekend evenings these days.  I'm in Mexico, without my family.  I've forgotten what it's like to be alone and go out and do stuff.  I feel like I should be changing a diaper, or doing the laundry. (Come to think of it, I do need to do the laundry.  Funny how I forget about that when I'm alone.)

In order to save money, I've limited myself to visiting some old acquaintances here (who also seem to stay at home with nothing to do), or, in the case of this evening, buy some beer to take home and drink it while reading (and writing) blogs.

Today, while reading some good pages, I've been enjoying two of my favourties: Leon, and - probably tied as my favourite Mexican beer - Negra Modelo.  The other favourite is Noche Buena, which is a special Bock beer sold only at Christmas time; the name means "Christmas Eve" and "Poinsettia," which is the logo of the brand.  Unfortunately, it's still much too early to find Noche Buena.

All of these are dark beers, which tend to be my preference.  However, a good Mexican light-coloured beer is Pacifico, which was originally a contribution from German (or more correctly, German Bohemian) immigrants in the north-west of the country (specifically Mazatlan) who also gave Mexico it's famous Banda music; this music - even in it's countryfied, popified versions - still carries the tradition of the triple beat (ump-pa-pa), the accordion and bass which are so characteristic of the famous Polka brought by the unMexican immigrants.

For most of us, it's rather strange to make any connection between German and Mexican cultures; the seem to be rather polar opposites in so many ways; but there it is, real and unmistakeable - both in the beer and the music.  (Incidentally, my own Germanic roots have come through Mexico.)

The German taste for strength, flavour and distinction combine well with the Mexican taste for easy smoothness and a happy life. (Yes, that's my description of Noche Buena, and applies to Pacifico as well; it could also be a description of parts of my life.)

Cheers!  Prost! and Salud!

(P.S. Still no memory card for the camera; but I remembered that my laptop can take pictures too!  The only problem is it's not convenient for taking pictures in the street.  The memory card will come tomorrow.)

Good-bye, Meat!

A Torta Cubana (source: Prone to Wander Blog)

One folk etymology of  the word carnival is that it comes from the middle Latin "carne vale" which means "farewell to meat." So, while I didn't watch any brightly coloured dancers or have any big festivities during Carnival, on Shrove Tuesday, I said good-bye to meat. I ate a huge meat-filled "torta Cubana" (a sandwich like the one in the picture - see Vitamin T - The Mexican Special) and drank a litre of beer ("caguama" is the word they use here in Mexico - see Illegal Immigration - An Alternative Approach and the label "Beer.") and said good bye to both for the 40 days of Lent.

As a side note, this connects to a theme I've been meaning to write about for a while, namely vegetarianism, and my opinion that the proper place of vegetarianism is as means that leads to another end - first and foremost religious, and also health and economy as secondary reasons.  Interestingly enough, the "economics" of not eating meat is actually part of the religious reason; one reason to avoid eating meat (or abstaining from other items) is to save money to give to the poor.  The other part has to do with focusing on God rather than the flesh (the other meaning of "carne.")

Vegetarianism (as I see it) is misled and misleading when it becomes an end rather than the means. But more about that when I finally get around to writing that blog.

In the mean time, good-bye meat and good-bye beer.

[Note on the etymology of Carnival: the more philologically accepted etymology seems to be that it's from Italian "carne levare" which means "putting meat away."  It basically amounts to the same thing.  See - http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=Carnival.]

Mexican Beer for Christmas Eve

Noche Buena Beer and A Nativity Scene

Mexico has special beer that’s only sold for a month or two before Christmas. It’s called “Noche Buena” which is both the name for Christmas Eve, and for the poinsettia flower. It’s a dark, bock-style beer with a strong, semi-bitter flavour, and it’s an important part of Mexico’s Christmas Eve celebrations (traditionally taking place at midnight, so technically on Christmas Day.)

Interesting Expats Part 2 - The Drunk "Dentist"

Steve Martin in "The Little Shop of Horrors"

What kind of person do you imagine as dentist?

Imagine this.

A 20 year-old American, living near the beach, who's supposed to be living 3 hours away studying dentistry.  His mother, back in Denver, sends him money every Thursday to pay his rent and buy food so he can focus on his studies.  By Saturday, he has no money, for anything.  On Saturday night he's trying to convince neighbours to buy him beer.   Throughout the week he shows up at the neighbourhood shops (mostly run out of people's living rooms) and asks for photocopies, snacks, etc. on credit.  Usually he's very hung over, or still drunk.  When they charge him the 50 cents (5 pesos) he owes, he stops going the store.

I know a lot of people in their early 20s who are still working out the direction of their life, so most of this wouldn't surprise me - if he weren't supposed to be a dentist.

One day, back when my wife  was still running her own mini-business out of our living room, he showed up, reeking of alcohol, and started asking if he could see our teeth.  I passed on the offer.  We already knew that he had studied half a semester or something like that in dentistry before running off the beach.  He then started talking to the other clients and asking to see their mouths, taking their phone numbers, apparently to make appointments for dental work. (I'd like to think the people who gave their phone numbers were giving fake ones.)

Another neighbor who had seen his house said that he had a ratty old dentist chair in his living room.  I didn't ask about the equipment.

Would you let this guy stick a sharp object in your mouth?  I know I sure wouldn't.

For the story of a more socially responsible expat, read Interesting Expats Part 1 - The Priest
For a discussion of what makes us expats, read What is an "Expat"?

Illegal Immigration - An Alternative Approach

This Caguama (1liter beer) may present a solution (See bottom)

Of course, everyone has they're own opinion about the issue of illegal Mexican immigrants to the U.S., and it's a really a very complex topic, with all sides making economic, cultural, political and social arguments that make complete sense - to the people who fall into each given ideological area in the first place.  Since I'm not American, nor is it likely that I'll ever be denied legal entry into the U.S., I don't really have much say in the issue, I guess.

So, instead of throwing my own 2 cents' worth into a bucket that already has a few billion cents in it, I'll just talk about my experience with Mexicans who've done it.  The following are a few points I've noticed.

Determination.  After being caught and sent back three times, I would give up.  Especially since if I had to pay what amounted to a few months' pay for the service of being taken across and picked up on the other side.  I've heard $1000 USD, and that it's usually borrowed money.  I've known a few people who were going back for round 3 or 4.  That money could feed their family in Mexico for half a year. I don't know how they manage to make the whole thing profitable.  In one case, judging by the under-nourished look of the man's children, I don't think he did.  He was pumped and ready to go again, though.  Of course, there are thousands who succeed, bring their family and even buy a home.  Those stories are enough to motivate the others who don't get any use out of it.  It's kind like slot machines for addicted gamblers.


The lure of the American Dream, or an prospect of making it "rich" is stronger than just about any obstacle or risk.  One writer stated that the only thing the construction of a 20-foot wall along the border would accomplish is an increase in production of 25-foot ladders in Mexico. (R. Longworth, Caught in the Middle.)  Politics aside, I believe this is an accurate reflection of the determination involved.


Worse Prospects Back Home.  If I remember correctly, I believe the new laws in Arizona were proposing 40 days in jail for people discovered in the U.S. without a valid visa (I'm not sure if I have the details right or what the final outcome was.)  While I agree that it's harsh, I don't think it compares to the possibilities of imprisonment in Mexico.  A friend of my wife was in jail, innocently, for almost 10 years; most significantly WITHOUT TRIAL.  We only recently discovered his release when he contacted her on facebook.  If I understand correctly, Mexico doesn't have the "innocent until proven guilty" legal concept, and, it seemed in his case that the opposite was assumed.  (I believe President Calderon has taken steps to change this, as well as implementing a public, witness-questioning type process for trials.  If so, I hope it makes a difference.) In Mexican jails you also have to pay for your food and tip guards.  Family members have to visit to leave money.  Many inmates, are for this reason, compelled to make handy-crafts to sell and pay for their keep; the guards sell the crafts outside and keep a share of the cash. (One of the most famous hammock producers on the Yucatan Peninsula is actually a prison; foreign tourists innocently seem to think it's a nice way to fill idle time; I know I did at the beginning.)  So, how does the prospect of 40 days in an American jail stack up to this?

On top of that, many of these people come from a life of utter poverty.  They don't see much to loose.  Back on the farm, they always had corn, beans, squash and meat, not to mention as much fruit as they could eat. But they didn't have Kentucky Fried Chicken, Blackberry cell phones or satellite T.V.  I guess even a modest income in the U.S can get them these luxuries of the rich.  For others, the prospect of one day being able to take the kids to Disney Land would give their family special status.  They once knew a rich family from he city that had gone ...

Bragging Rights. Now, I can't say for sure, but I don't think 40 days in an American jail would daunt most of the people who head across the border.  I actually suspect it might serve as another source of bragging rights; I can here it now: "The gringos caught me and gave a free bed and food for 40 days!"  I've heard this kind of bragging.  The guy who I mentioned above, who had been caught and sent back 3 times was telling his story (of course, no jail involved) to a group of men and boys, sitting around with beer.  As he spoke with the pride and authority of true drunk, a 14-year-old boy looked on in awe, with sparkle of hope in his eyes.  That was 4 years ago.  I'm sure that 14-year-old is in the U.S. by now.

Not all the braggers are drunks. I've met some very fine, upstanding, lower-middle class family men speaking with true pride of their cross border risks, all for the sake of their dear family (these are more the Disney Land types).

National Identity Confusion.  For some reason, Mexicans who successfully establish themselves in the U.S. (legally or illegally) often do not want to be considered Mexican, or even Mexican-American, or Mexican-background.  I remember on a trip to Detroit once, to the Mexican neighborhood, one hispanic American was offended when my dad mentioned the word Mexican (he was definitely Mexican, as opposed to Colombian, for example.)  I've heard of many similar cases.  These people teach their kids that they are American, not Mexican.

Here in Playa del Carmen I met a Mexican family whose daughters had been born in the U.S.

"Some day," explained one of the little girls, "I want to go back to my Homeland, and get to know my people." She hadn't been there since infancy.  She placed a special emphasis on "mi patria" referring the United States.  All of this was in Spanish, and she couldn't speak any English.  Also, everything about the family, from their clothes and way of addressing people, to gestures and expressions was purely Mexican (which, for me, is a good thing.)  But these girls had been taught to believe that they were not Mexican.

I would think that for Americans this desire to assimilate should be seen as a good thing.  But, again, I'm not American. Personally, I think it's ridiculous; if I could say I had Mexican heritage, I would do so with pride.  (I do show off my Mexican citizenship card to disbelieving Mexicans; but it's not quite the same is really being Mexican culturally.)  Once people are born and raised in the U.S., and that is really their culture, then of course it makes sense to identify themselves with that nationality.  But, ironically, some Mexican-background Americans I know who have fully assimilated American culture are among the few who look back with pride to their Hispanic roots. Others are scathingly aggressive to their former people.

Now that I'm pretty much done, I'll throw in my one-cent's worth.  (It's not even really worth two.)

In the case of American policy makers, on either side of the political spectrum, I feel like one of two things is true; either they've had no contact with these people, and they know virtually nothing about them, or, they know, but pretend that they don't because it's more important to please their respective voters base.  I suppose both are possible.  If they knew something about how these people thought, I would guess that they could come up with some sort of policy that would work at least little better.

My one-cent opinion: they should gather a few of the illegal immigrants, sit down with them with a few caguamas (pronounced "ca-WAma" - see the picture at the top) and really get to know them.  It might not solve the problem, but I'm sure it would take them farther than they are now.