A Beautiful Ghetto

The narrow street where I lived, typical of La Barona

Last week I stayed in Cuernavaca, with my wife's cousins in a community called La Barona.  La Barona is typically considered the worst neighborhood in Cuernavaca - a city about an hour south of Mexico City.  Back in the 70's there was a time that there was a murder every day, taxi's refused to take people there, and the buses stopped at the first traffic circle - pretty much the only way in and only way back out to the rest of the city.

Since then, this neighbourhood has a complete turn-around, and it's now a pleasant & vibrant family community where you can live comfortably with all the basics within walking distance. I've written about this community before - see A Community Turn-Around Story in Cuernavaca.

An important point is that the bad reputation has long outlived the reality.  Sure, basic common sense and care must still be used.  Yes, the community is generally a poor one; but it's not the ghetto it used to be - it's safe, and, in it's own way, picturesque and beautiful.

The community is a labyrinth of tree-lined streets, alleys lined with colorful flowers and roundabouts with playgrounds in the middle, but where you really can't tell which is the "main street" going in and out. It's also very hilly, with nice views of the nearby hills that separate Cuernavaca from Mexico City, and hide the magical village of Tepoztlan.  There are lots of local small shops that sell everything from fruit and freshly baked bread to appliances, computers and cell phones.  Because of the flowers, the trees, the views and, perhaps most of all, the relaxed lifestyle of the people, the many half-built homes, shops covered with graffiti, the unplanned tangled overhead wiring become a lot less unpleasant.

I've been accused before of liking ugly and off-colour places just to be different; but I can guarantee you that this is not the case with La Barona.  My wife and I lived there for 3 months, and every time we go back, we feel more convinced that one day, in the distant future, it could be a good home for our family.  We feel comfortable and at home there.

One of the nicer houses - this was probably built up, little by little

The bad reputation, though, has some advantages:

• It gives the community a very distinct atmosphere of its own; places that are "quaint" because they were planned to be that way often all end up being the same and somewhat boring.  This place is very down to earth, real and practical.
• It keeps the prices low. Rent is low; $100 USD/month gets you a large house that will need a bit of paint but is fine to live in.  Food is cheap (not quite as cheap as the main downtown market, but much better than other places I've seen - in Cuernavaca or anywhere else.  I've written about a similar theme in The Low Cost of Living in Cuernavaca.)

A typical main street, lined with trees

As I said, it's picturesque in its own unique way.  I'll admit quite readily it's not the place for everyone's taste, but that's true of anywhere.  Here are a few pictures with some comments.

A typical sidewalk - not always practical

Small sports complexes and regular transportation do a lot for the community (not to mention the "boutiques!")

A view of the hills in the distance

Another nicer home

An ally way heading downhill, with hills in the distance

A very narrow ally - there are many of these, and many homes have their only access off of a street like this

Springtime in Canada

While living in year-round warm weather sounds (and is) attractive for many reasons, there’s something wonderful about the passing of real seasons – seasons you can see, feel, smell and even hear.

I love the weather in Mexico – especially places like Cuernavaca – but the seasons really only pass on the calendar, and the change between sunny and rainy or hot and really hot (in the case of Playa del Carmen) really don’t match up with the traditional northern seasons I love so much, besides the fact that the complete appeal to all senses isn’t so noticeably present.

Today my wife, who can’t stand weather colder than 20 degrees Celsius, told me that there was something extraordinarily beautiful in seeing gardens full of freshly blooming flowers, bright green leaves just beginning to sprout from their buds, and lush, green grass, all against a sunny sky, on a day that’s finally warm enough to take off your sweater – after so many weeks of cold, grey, rainy days, with spring battling to emerge from a unseemly long season that resembled late winter more than anything else.  You can smell the flowers and freshly cut grass.  You can hear the birds singing in a sort of relief, a proclamation of the coming warmth.

Getting on an airplane and flying somewhere warm just doesn’t have the same rich appeal to the senses.

There’s is something very beautiful in this changing of the seasons in Canada.  I love every season in Canada just because it is such a beautiful contrast to the one that proceeds it.

The Stairway to ... Cuernavaca

The Stairway in Cuernavaca

The stairs in this picture are the first of a series of steps leading up from the house where we were staying in Cuernavaca.  The house was at the bottom of a ravine.  The first steps you can see in the foreground are about 1/8 of the distance, and the steps in the background leading up to the black door at the top of the picture (left-middle) make up another 1/8.

From that black door, you have to walk about 5 meters to another flight of stairs similar to the ones in the foreground.  From there, you walk another 10 meters to the last, longest and steepest flight.  It's about twice as long as all the other stairs put together (I know, the math doesn't add up, but you get the idea.)

The step's are narrow, irregular, and wind up the hill.  There are places, that if you fall, you would probably fall the full length of that flight, and you may not survive the fall.  In a few of the most dangerous points, a fence is being put up, but it is still not complete.

For those of us not used to it, it's quite a workout, and a little intimidating.

At the top, there's a walk of a short block, and then there's a main road with stores, where buses and taxis go by.

When my wife was stung by the scorpion (see Scorpions in Cuernavaca) we almost ran up these stairs - as close as we could get to running.  A few years ago, she was very athletic and would have easily beat me to the top, but this time, I had to help her up.

Most of the people who live down there are in pretty good shape.  Some of them have stumbled down these stairs drunk.  I'm not sure how they do it.

Scorpions in Cuernavaca

My least favourite part of day to day life in Cuernavaca are the scorpions.  They are small, but there are lots of them. Just about everyone has either had a scorpion sting, or knows someone who has.  It's so common, that upon arriving at a clinic or hospital with a scorpion sting, you receive immediate, free and fast attention, after only giving your name and place of residence.  It's not a shock or surprise, but they know that it's urgent, and easy to cure. On average, we killed on scorpion a day.  The house we were staying in was especially bad because of being surrounding by forest with a nearby river.

The evening we were planning to leave Cuernavaca, my wife reached into one of our bags to take out a diaper, and was stung by a hidden scorpion; they like to hide in dark, small places. We had been keeping all our bags well closed, but this one we had left behind, and partially open when we went to her grandpa's village.

Within 30 minutes we had visited a local clinic, where a doctor gave her an injection to slow the spread of the poison, and sent us off to the general hospital.  She was admitted immediately into emergency for supervision.  When she started complaining about a dry throat and trouble breathing, they gave her an anti-scorpion injection, which is, ironically, scorpion poison.  I have no idea how an injection of scorpion poison stops scorpion poison, but somehow it works. Within another 20 minutes, she felt better, and they sent her home.  The place where they injected the I.V. hurts her more than the scorpion sting itself, which felt less drastic than an ant bite.

Despite common belief, most people don't react severely to scorpions and do fine with a simple injection to stop the spread of poison, or, as my wife's uncles later told us, a magnet, which supposedly draws the poison out. (This is a folk remedy, and I would only try it once I were already on the way to the hospital.)

A handful of people experience anaphylactic shock.  It's more common to experience anaphylactic shock from a scorpion than from a bee sting (I guess since the poison is more potent), so it's highly recommended for anyone who gets stung to go the hospital for supervision and an anti-scorpion injection if necessary.  I guess my wife is one of the people who suffers anaphylactic shock from scorpions - a point we'd have to consider if we ever moved back to Cuernavaca. 

A Community Turn-Around Story in Cuernavaca

Yesterday, I visited a community where I used to lie in Cuernavaca called "La Barona." Years ago, it was the worst ghetto the city ever had; it still has a reputation for being the bad side of town, although it has changed incredibly over the past few decades.

Originally it was a village, and when it was swallowed by the city during the 40s and 50s, migrants from other parts of the country brought some local feuds with them, which eventually escalated into full-blown gang violence. During the 70's there was time that there was a murder every day. Buses stopped at the traffic circle which was the main entrance (there was only 3 entrances into a neighborhood of about 10,000) and taxis would also refuse to go further.



By the time I live there in 2006, it was a quiet, friendly neighbourhood, where the families who roughed it through the bad years (in return for really cheap property) had managed to build up their houses from little shacks into decent multi-storey, nicely painted homes – still mostly lower income, but nicer that what it once was. Now, children play in the streets, and there are a lot of little restaurants and local services. Fruit and vegetable shops are common, and everything tends to be the cheapest in the city (the bad reputation which it has never outlived is probably responsible for this). When I visited yesterday, there were more businesses and better businesses than four years ago.



My friends from Mexico City were surprised when they came and saw that it was a decent neighbourhood. Their friends who lived here had told them it was the worst part of the city, comparable to roughest parts of Mexico City. During the 70's, I guess this was true. The worst thing that happened to me there was being pestered by 2 drunks for money. (If they had wanted to rob me, they could've easily done so; but they didn't.) There was also a little incident with a ghost, but that's a different story.



Fortunately, I've never lived in a real bad part of any city. This is the closest I've come (along with the village of Santa Fe in Mexico City.) But it's a place I like to talk about and think about since it shows how a neighbourhood can go from a really bad problem, into a relatively decent family community.

Cuernavaca and Drug-related Violence

To start, I want to point out that it's definitely an inaccurate perception that all of Mexico is ravaged by drug-mob violence.  Most of the country is free of this kind of violence and the majority of Mexicans and visitors have no contact with this kind of thing; in day to day life, it pretty much shows up only in the news papers (it's real, but it happens a few areas mostly near the U.S. border.)  That having been said, the reality is that recently, Cuernavaca has actually been one of the places to see an escalation of drug-mob violence since President Calderon's war on drugs started.  While most people who live here are still not effected by it, it's a reality.

Since the Mexican marine killed one of the country's top drug lords in a suburb of Cuernavaca early in 2009, there's been a fairly gruesome violence within the drug mobs, with some fairly public displays of their violence.  These events seemed to be worse during 2009; at least the news hasn't said much about them recently.  I assume that these events are most noticeable and difficult for police officers and people with related jobs, since they're the ones that have to deal with it in some way.

Most people who live here don't seem to see, notice or think about these events.  For the days I've been visiting, no one has been talking about drug violence and life in the city seems normal; in fact down town seemed very lively, full of shoppers, young people, old people and families enjoying an evening out, even more so than when I remember it.  I really, really hope this means that it was a short phase, that has now abated.  I love Cuernavaca and I'd hate to see it marred by violence.

Even now, I feel really safe here.  I walk through the streets carrying a nice laptop bag (something I wouldn't do in a place I didn't feel was safe) and chat with people I see downtown.  If that wave of violence from 2009 is still going on, it's behind the scenes.

That having been said, I don't doubt that the city will pass through this phase, if it hasn't already.  The city has lived through much rougher times in the past. I actually have a nice little personal story here showing how a city or community can come through rough times. I'll share that tomorrow.

For two of the things I love about Cuernavaca, read:

The Low Cost of Living in Cuernavaca
The World's Perfect Climate

The Low Cost of Living in Cuernavaca

In Cuernavaca, everything is cheap.

Vacationers arriving in Playa del Carmen think it's cheap, but when we arrived there, we almost packed up and left because of the prices (and the heat.) Cuernavaca really is cheap. When we arrived in Cuernavaca 5 days ago, we bought all of our groceries for the week for $20 at the local market. This was mostly lots of fresh, local fruit and vegetables, plus bread, tortillas, granola, rice and some other dry food like that. When we used to buy meat from the market butcher back when we used to live here it was only two or three dollars more.

My wife's cousins also gave us some oats, beans and zucchinis; they don't like oatmeal, and apparently brown beans are better than black ones (I can't taste the difference.) They've eaten so much zucchini that they don't want more. These people are not well to do, but I guess food is cheap enough here that they feel that can be picky. (Although I've known some very poor people in expensive places that were even pickier – a concept I've never been able to figure out.)

When we lived here, we paid $120 for rent. It was a small home with 1 very large bedroom, and a nice shared lawn. From what I understand, rent is still very affordable.

I guess that for most people, if you live here, it's hard to find a good income, so the two aspects balance each other out. It's perfect for someone who's income source is from somewhere else.

More about Cuernavaca:

The World's Perfect Climate

The World's Perfect Climate

After an absence of almost 4 years, I've finally had the chance to return to Cuernavaca, to visit my wife's family here. (Travel was the reason for the week I haven't updated this blog.) To be honest, I don't know what ever made us leave. (Well, I do know. Work. But that's a different point.)

The weather is perfect. I've never been in a place where the weather is better. Mexico City is slightly cooler, and closer to an ideal temperature for me, but since most housing doesn't have heating, and cold concrete is as bad as ice, the winter can get a little too chilling, depending on which part of the city you live in, what kind of home you have, and how much sunlight it gets during the day. But Cuernavaca almost invariably has warm sunny days and cool nights. It's like late August in Ontario, all the time. Playa del Carmen, on the other hand, is about 10 degrees too hot, all the time. They call Cuernavaca the city of eternal spring, but I would call it the city of eternal late summer. I guess it doesn't have the same ring.

Cuernavaca has its downsides; there's not much of a cultural life here, but at least there are a few museums and a lot of history. Playa del Carmen has nothing. It's also very close to Mexico City (less than an hour), which has more culture than you could ask for. Being so close to Mexico City is actually one of the best things about Cuernavaca (next to the climate, I would say.) The advantage is that it's actually faster to and get around the downtown – southern part of Mexico City from Cuernavaca.

Over the next few days, I'll write more about some of the good things and not-so-good things about Cuernavaca. On the whole, I'd have to say it's been one of my favorite places to live.

For some earlier posts about Cuernavaca, read: 

Interesting Expats part 3 - A traveller who never travelled ... 

Coffee, Wonderful Coffee!

 

A Poor Canadian Living in Rich Mexico

We're not all as rich as we "look."

Early on in my life in Cuernavaca, my wife was working taking pictures at events at a little event-garden (kind of like an event hall, but completely outside, something that only works a couple of months in Canada.)  The owner of the place ran it as a small business where he did everything pretty much; all the event services were contracted out, but maintenance, promotion, etc. he and his wife did.

One day when the business had been growing nicely, he decided to buy a new place.  The new one was pretty much a house with a really big yard and a pool; personally, I liked the first place better, since it has a lot of trees and was picturesque in a truly rustic way, but the second place was "nicer" by just about all standards but my own.

One day we were chatting about it:

"It's not much of a place," he observed.  "I know up there in Canada you're used to much more.  But I'm just a poor Mexican, I can't afford much."

"Well, I'm from a pretty humble background," I explained. "I'm sure it's beautiful."

"The thing is, I had to go into it with an investment partner," he went on.  "I could only afford 4 million pesos.  The other guy put up the rest.  It's nothing much compared to what people spend up there."

4 million pesos would have been about $450,000 CDN at the time (slightly less US)!  I didn't really know what to say to that.  I had never lived in a house worth that much, and I don't believe that any of my friends' parents' houses were worth that much.  The average home in Canada last year was worth about $350,000.  I know a lot of people have homes that are worth more, but since this is the average, that means there are plenty whose homes are worth less than that - just about everyone I know, I guess.  This was also before Canada's post-recession housing boom - even before the recession, in fact - so the average values would have been less than that, which was a record high.

This property he bought was worth more, since the $450,000 was just his part - there was also the other investor.

At this point I had just begun teaching part time, and was earning about $700 dollars per month, and my wife was earning another $300, plus what we got from the photography (I helped take the pictures to be developed and sell them to the guests; I even took pictures now and then!)  A home worth $450,000 was well beyond anything I could imagine at the moment.  Yet this guy was sure that the amount would have seemed trivial to me.

I just nodded my head, and told him I was sure he made a good choice; business was good.

I know that this was for business, but what shocked me was the idea that $450,000 was a negligible amount of money!  I know well-to-do people, but I think any of them would consider that amount an amount to treat with care.  This guy was certainly treating them with care - he was kind of "betting the farm" in this new undertaking - but he was sure that that kind of money was nothing for me, since I was Canadian; all Canadians are filthy rich, after all. (I don't know what he thought my motivation was for working with my wife as a photographer on my weekend evenings.)

It seems to me that many Mexicans, like this friend of ours, regardless of how much money they make, will assume that all foreigners are richer than they are.

During a slightly earlier time in Cuernavaca, when my income and funds were even tighter, a man selling chicken in the market got really angry with me because I asked him for 15 pesos of chicken; when he gave me 20 pesos worth, I told him I only had 15 pesos, and he would have to give me less.  This was the absolute truth.  I really only had 15 pesos.  I had a bit more cash at home, but that had been carefully rationed for transportation and other needs.  In my pocket I didn't have another cent - not even a Mexican cent!  My wife and I were going to walk home.

"What's 5 pesos to you!" he shouted.  "It's less than half a dollar.  Stingy gringos!"  Some people will joke around like this, but this guy wasn't joking.  He was fuming mad.  He finally chopped off half a leg, and gave me my 15 pesos worth of chicken, cursing under his breath as we walked away with our chicken, cent-less.

Most of the time these kinds of encounters aren't so aggressive; taxi drivers here regularly try to tell me their price in dollars (elevated.)  I always politely say, "Sorry, I only earn Mexican pesitos.  What's that in pesos?"  (in Spanish, of course.) That usually gets me laugh and a better price.

While in general Canada is definitely richer than Mexico, there are plenty of Mexicans who are richer than plenty of Canadians.  Getting many Mexicans to believe that is virtually impossible, though.

Tomorrow, or some time down the road, I'll share some stats about Canada and Mexico from the CIA World Factbook (a great source for statistical information, free online) and tell you what I think they mean.

To read more about those of us who live in Mexico, and either by necessity or choice are living the "real thing", read:

What is an "Expat"?

Interesting Expats part 3 - A traveller who never travelled ...

While some who travel, really aren't travellers, other ...

This one is not really about an expat, but someone who probably should have been an expat - i.e. live in a different country.

The second house I lived in Cuernavaca was a 10 minute walk from downtown. Right across the road was one of the many little convenience stores that people here open in the front part of their homes.

The owner had never travelled far beyond the area directly surrounding Mexico City.  His family - a son, daughter-in-law and 2 grandsons - were just like any Mexican family.

But this shop owner knew English, French and German.  He had practiced some English with Americans he knew in Mexico City.  German and French he had learned from those do-it-your-self language kits that everyone buys and no one really uses.  The amazing part was that he actually knew German and French quite well, well enough to get by in either of those countries.

I was amazed by this.  So many expats hardly learn the language of the country they're living in, especially if their spouse speaks their language.  When people don't have a compelling need to learn a new language (work, pay raise, a potential girlfriend, etc.) they usually give up their efforts pretty quickly, and are satisfied with a handful of poorly spoken phrases mixed with English - just enough to get what you want.

This guy learned 3 foreign languages, on his own, without any daily motivation to do so!

Also amazing is that he never travelled, or at least worked in tourism to put these languages into use.  Next time I go back to Cuernavaca I'll go back to that shop to see if he's still there.

I'm really hoping to get news that he's packed up and left for Paris, or something like that ...


For posts about expats, read:

Interesting Expats Part 1 - The Priest

Interesting Expats Part 2 - The Drunk "Dentist"
What is an "Expat"?

Tepoztlan, "Where UFOs and Witches Live Happily Together"

Typical home with the church's steeple (photo by Cecilia Marquez)

One of my favorite villages that I've been to is Tepoztlan, the village where I got married, near Cuernavaca, just south of Mexico City.  Part of the reason why we chose it for our wedding is that its very traditional, with little adobe homes, delicious restaurants, a very typical central market, and a beautiful view of steep, green hillside behind it.

It was also one of my first images of Mexico; when we had just met through a friend on the internet, my wife sent me a postcard and some pictures of the market.

The town is officially recognized as the Mexican government as a "Magic Town."  But there's something more "magical" about this town.  Up on the hilltop there is a small pyramid, overlooking the village.  It can be accessed by walking up a path that winds back and forth through a narrow cleft in the hillside.

People who live up near the hillside will report strange events near their homes at night - sounds, lights, ghostly figures and voices.

Many residents claim that they have seen UFOs up above the pyramid at night.

During the numerous visits I made during the year I lived in Cuernavaca, I never noticed anything strange.  But I was never near the hill at night. I stayed in a little room in the garden where we had our wedding, near the edge of town the nights before and after, but I didn't pay much attention to the hill.

A friend of my wife's (actually her boss, whom I mentioned in my first post about coffee, Coffee, Wonderful Coffee!) lived near the foot of the hill for a while and told us of a few such occurrences.

Me at Tepozteco - the pyramid on the hill

Because of this very reputation, my wife, who knew the town well before she met me, wrote on the back of he first post card she sent me, "This is Tepoztlan, where UFO's and witches live happily together."  Not a bad introduction to the town's reputation.

My experience has a lot more to do with delicious quesadillas, relaxing walks through the town streets, sitting in the town square listening to traditional music, and, last, but certainly not least, my wedding in the wonderful old church.  More to come on Tepoztlan.

To read more about places travel, try these:

The Day of the Dead - Different Traditions throughout Mexico
WARNING: Mexico is DANGEROUS! Do not come here - unless ..
A Different Kind of Beachfront Town - My Visit to Progreso
 Grandpa's Farm in The Isolated Hills of Mexico State - Part 1, The First Visit
New Hostel for Mexico City - Restored Colonial Building Downtown
Where's your adventurous spirit?

Mexican Coffee in Toronto

Ideal Cafe - Outside

Another post on the theme of coffee.

I first got into the habit of carefully selecting my coffee when I lived in Toronto.  Anyone who knows Toronto will know that Kensington Market, a little neighbourhood that was home to just about every group of immigrants to Toronto, also has the biggest concentration of coffee roasters.  Some of them are nice little cafes with a rustic atmosphere that, in addition to roasting their own coffee, also serve bakery items and some food.  My favourite of these was the Moonbean Cafe, because of it's atmosphere and it's variety of coffees.  I think I've visited everytime I've been back to Canada.

Others were more purely roasters, and had some makeshift seating around the entrance.  My favourite of these was Ideal Coffee.  The makeshift seating wasn't so great (although it's definitely a part of the alternative atmosphere their regulars like,) and one of my friends actually accused them of being snobby; it wouldn't surprise me, but to be perfectly honest, I was always to enthralled by the smell of the roasting coffee to take any notice of the people who worked there. The only things I remember about the place are the stacks of coffee back behind the bar, the espresso maker, which was operated by a hand pump instead of electronic pressure, and that, as good as the lattes were, it was too inconvenient to enjoy them there, since the few seats were usually taken, and they were too uncomfortable anyway.  The people - even the ones filling the seats - don't figure into my memory.

Moonbean Cafe

BUT the coffee was (and still is, I hope) amazing.  At that time, at least it was from Veracruz, Mexico.  I had discovered this coffee before I met the Mexican friends who would eventually prompt my sudden and unplanned move to Mexico (the prompting wasn't very active - mostly my doing on the great things they told and later showed me.)  This coffee, however, was one of my first Mexican experiences which little by little grew on me and fall in love with this wonderful country and all the great things it offers.

Having now lived in Mexico, I realize there was absolutely nothing Mexican about Ideal Cafe except the coffee.

When I first lived in Cuernavaca and began buying my coffee from the roaster in the local market, I realized some important things.  First of all, the coffee in Cuernavaca was just as good, if not superior.  Another is that the coffee in Kensington was sold for about 3 times as much; this makes since it's imported, and it was bought fair-trade organic, although it couldn't be sold as organic, since the shops hadn't been certified.  Also, the people in Kensington - especially Ideal - were hippies, punks or some kind of people who wore shabby clothes, but could afford to pay $10 for a pound of coffee or $3 for a cup. (I endured the price and forced myself to drink less coffee, simply since it was so good, and well worth sacrificing quantity for quality. I almost never bought the coffee to drink there for budget reasons.)  The people in Cuernavaca's market wore just about anything, mostly just plain jeans and a t-shirt, but paid $6 for a kilo of coffee (less than $3 a pound), and less than $1 for a cup.

I was thrilled to find this little coffee roaster.  It was purely practical for practical buyers, and for that reason offered low prices.  They had 5 different roasts and ground the coffee to your specifications.  It was delivered in typical two little transparent plastic bags - to ensure freshness, I was told - as opposed to the elegantly rustic brown paper of the shops in Toronto. (Mexico also has its trendy coffee shops, but not so much in Cuernavaca; places in Mexico City - I believe Condesa and, especially, Coyoacan - have some very nice little shops with amazing coffee, and I believe a number of them roast their own. Obviously a little pricier than Cuernavaca's market, but a nicer atmosphere than Ideal and still better prices. Mexico City also has enough shops that are purely roasters of its own - one of them is where my mother-in-law buys her annual gifts of coffee for us.)

Ideal Cafe Inside

I never begrudged Kensington Market for charging me 3x as much; as I mentioned above, I still go back there when in Canada.  They were my first experience with Mexican coffee, and that alone is something to be grateful for.

Thank you Mexico for wonderful coffee - and thank you Kensington Market for roasting it and selling it to Canadians!

By the way, if you live in Toronto, my recommendations are:  If you want to sit down for a coffee and a snack, go to Moonbean - I'm not sure if Moonbean's coffee is Mexican, but it's good.  If you want to buy grounds to brew at home, go to Ideal.

(As I've said before, Playa del Carmen is still missing a coffee roaster, but the Chiapas coffee I buy in a little shop in the old working-class neighbourhood seems fairly fresh - it also comes in plastic bags.  Then again, everything in Mexico comes in plastic bags, even orange juice.)

If you want to read more about coffee, try these:

Cafe de Olla - One of my Favorites!
Coffee, Wonderful Coffee!

A Gift of Coffee
"How Many Germans Does it Take To ...

Enough writing about coffee I'm going to go make myself one!

Day of the Dead

An Altar at a Public School in Playa del Carmen

The Day of Dead in Mexico is probably my favorite holiday.  It's much deeper, and a richer tradition than Halloween, which at best is fun with costumes and candies, and at worst is part of the ever more exaggerated commercialism and consumerism that has people buying jack-o-lanterns in July and Santa Claus costumes in September.

The Day of the Dead is something different.  It's a day to remember family and friends who have passed away.  There are no ghouls or goblins, but lots of memories.  For some people the memories are overbearing, and so they choose not to participate.

The basic idea is that on the nights before November 1 and November 2, people make "altars" for their lost family members, which include pictures of the person, candles and food, including mole (a dark, rich sauce made of chili, chocolate and many other ingredients), "pan de muerto," which is a special bread made for this season, the favorite food of the deceased, glasses of water, little sugar or chocolate skulls and burning incense.  Other favorite items can also be left, such as beer, wine or cigarettes.  A special flower for this occasion, the cempoalxóchitl (I don't know what it is in English, or even Spanish - this looks like an Nahuatl name to me) is placed on the altar.  Usually a special altar is made for any person who has passed away during that year, and one other combined for all others from past years.

November 1 is dedicated to children who have passed away, and November 2 to adults.  The traditional belief is that the souls of the dead will come to visit the altars dedicated to them, and drink the water.  This is also the reason for leaving their favorite items.

Pan de Muerto

One of my wife's great aunts claims that she actually saw the procession of souls, in the form of lights, leaving the cemetery entering their respective homes; she says she heard their voices as well.  Very few people have had experiences such as this one, but many people do believe that the souls come to visit.

There are different traditions throughout the country.  The only one I have experience directly is that of the state of Morelos in a village on the edge of Cuernavaca, called Ocotopec.   Many homes are open to the community to come and pay respects to the deceased, and offer consolation to the family.  Homes which are open will offer visitors tamales and a hot fruit punch, made with sugar cane, apples, hibiscus, tamarind and some other small fruits.  Some have music or bands, if music was really important.  Visitors leave a long white candle for the deceased, which are later lit, with the idea of lighting the way for the spirit.

The same night that the altars are placed, family members will go to the cemetery to accompany the deceased, often singing songs or praying.

A Very Decorated Sugar Skull

I clearly remember visiting one man's altar, which had been placed in the village church by his brother.  While the altar was relatively simple, the elderly man spent a good deal of time telling us about he life of his brother; it was shortly after my arrival in Mexico, so I didn't understand much, but I was impressed by the time and dedication of sharing part of his brother's story with us.

I also remember the tamales and punch from the homes we visited - they were delicious!  More importantly it was incredible to see the participation of so much of the community.

Most important to me was the significance of the entire holiday; the celebration of the memory of close people.  I believe that this tradition sharing their memories with the community can help people with grief.  Sometimes it is a personal experience, and the altars are private. For some people this can be more helpful.

I'll write more about the Day of the Dead between now and November 2.
Click here to read about some traditions throughout Mexico.

Coffee, Wonderful Coffee!

Moka Pot

I love coffee; I'm a little picky about coffee styles, but in the absence of my favorite kinds of coffee, I'll drink just about any kind of coffee (with less enjoyment.)  The coffee I like best are dark roasts, brewed strongly.  Now and then I like espresso, but what I drink most often is the strong coffee made in the stove-top coffee makers known as Mokka pots (see the picture.)  For homemade coffee, I also like press coffee makers.  Of course, the standard drip-pot coffee makers do the trick as well.

In Mexico, I've used all three with Mexican coffee.  Mexican coffee suits my tastes really well.  Most that I've tried is dark roast and has a really rich flavor.  Flavors vary from region to region as well - Veracruz and Chiapas are two of my favorites.  On top of being delicious, it's priced really  inexpensive; one reason for this is that it's produced within Mexico, and not very commercialized.  The other reason is that many Mexicans (although definitely not all) have a prejudice against their own domestic produce - an assumption that what's foreign is better.

This is were I enjoyed my morning coffee in Cuernavaca

This attitude led to one of the biggest absurdities I've ever encountered.  When we lived in Cuernavaca, a smaller city just south of Mexico City, my wife's boss would make a cup of coffee for us every morning when we arrived at her work (a historic photo archive). She would brew a wonderful dark roast which she bought in a nearby tourist village called Tepoztlan (where we got married).  The coffee was amazing!   Then one day we arrived to the news that she had bought better coffee. When we tried it, we found it so bitter and harsh, we could hardly finish our cups.  Of course, being polite, we forced it all down. After my wife and I had thrown some concerned looks at each other, she asked her boss about her magical new discovery.  Delighted, excited and proud, she pulled out a large can of Folgers.

FOLGERS!  Can you believe it?  I almost died of shock.  For one thing, I couldn't believe that this was her improvement.  No offense if you drink Folgers, but it just doesn't match up in any way to the small-production Mexican coffees.  If you do make it, you simply cannot make it that strong, it's just too bitter.  Another thing was the horror that if I continued to accept her morning coffees, every morning my expectations of having some of the best coffee I had ever tried, would be disappointed by Folgers.  The morning coffee visits had become a pleasurable part of my daily routine, sitting down in a very relaxing natural setting with my wife, her boss and an expert on colonial churches for some good conversation.  (This was after finishing my morning shift of teaching English classes around 10:30). Later that day my wife, who had investigated this change for the worse in depth, explained that her boss was certain that it was much better coffee; it was from the States.  How couldn't it better?  I lost some faith in humanity at that moment ... (well, OK, not really, but I was disappointed!)  I did keep going for the visits, but I  started "cutting down on caffeine," taking only half a cup.

The Market in Cuernavaca where I used to buy my Coffee

While we lived in Cuernavaca, I bought my coffee in the central market; there was little shop where they received green coffee in big bags from Veracruz.  They roasted the coffee fresh every day, and the aroma near that part of the market was one of my favorite parts of  my weekly shopping trips!  The only other place where I remember the smell of freshly roasted coffee so strong and rich is one corner of Kensington Market in Toronto where there are several roasters.  The shop in Cuernavaca sold various grinds (fine, medium, course) and tones (light, medium, dark.)  I bought the medium grind, dark roast for my moka pot, or fine dark roast for "cafe de olla," a traditional Mexican style of brewing coffee.  It cost about $7/kilo, which converts to about $3/pound.  Virtually the same coffee in Kensington Market, Toronto (also imported green from Veracruz and roasted on site) cost $10/pound.  I don't believe that even a giant can of Folgers in Walmart would cost much less then $7/kilo, and even if it did, it's a price I'd be very willing to pay.

These days I buy little packets of ground coffee from a vendor who has a little stand set up on the back of his pickup near the city's main hospital (a common way of running business in Mexico).  It's good coffee, but I miss the experience of the aroma of roasting coffee.  If anyone ever opens a coffee roasting shop in Playa del Carmen, that person will eternally be my hero.

I could write much more about coffee, or just coffee in Mexico, but I'll have to save those for another day.  In the future you can look forward to a post about "cafe de olla" as well as the home-grown, home-roasted coffee on my wife's grandpa's farm.

What's the best coffee you've ever had?  Just don't say Folgers! (Sorry for picking on Folgers, but that experience in Cuernavaca has left it branded eternally as the coffee I hate.)