I thought we’d send some semi-regular updates as to how we’re adjusting to life in Mexico (where the peppers grow and the women are so gay. Ole!) Two weeks in and we’re starting to make a dent in the boxes. The kitchen and dining room are done, and our office is, mostly. The master bedroom is still a mess, with boxes of clothes everywhere, and we still haven’t assembled the bed. Ruth forgot the screws, so I have to see if I can find them here and find someone to help me put it together. We also haven’t unpacked either of the televisions, but that’s OK since our internet service is far better than I expected, and we’ve just been streaming everything on our computers. We went to a potluck on Sunday and met about a dozen couples, all snowbirds, who come down for 5 or 6 months a year. I’m sure we’ll see them around and maybe we’ll remember their names. In the mean time we’re adjusting to the difference in cultures.
What we’ve learned so far:
Just because there’s no stop (Alto) sign on the corner, that doesn’t mean there isn’t supposed to be one. On the other hand, most drivers just treat them as a suggestion anyway.
When the sanitation department tells you pickup is early Friday morning, every week, expect them some time Monday afternoon. Or so.
When ordering a Hawaiian pizza, there’s a good chance it will come with maraschino cherries.
When ordering tuna salad (salad atun) there’s a good chance it will contain peas and red peppers.
Temperature can drop 20-25 degrees at night.
It’s the metric system, dummy.
Americans really are spoiled rotten when it comes to choices in the supermarket. Here there are two, maybe three, brands of any given item, and no wide variety. You can find any kind of salad dressing you like as long as it’s ranch, and any kind of mustard as long as it’s yellow. Sugar-free or fat-free products are few and far between. The frozen foods selection is miniscule, and there are no frozen meals. I still haven’t found peanut butter, but Nutella is everywhere. On the other hand, we’re getting the most by shopping old school, buying meat, produce, and seafood from individual vendors around town. Seems like everyone has someone in the family who fishes, and fish markets are like Starbucks around here. Every corner seems to have someone with a little pop-up and half a dozen coolers selling whatever their cousin or sister caught that day. We had some excellent fresh shrimp last night and trigger fish the night before.
I’m hoping we have time to get out to Barb’s Dog Rescue this weekend because I want to volunteer, but I have a feeling it’s going to be another week or 2 before we have the time.