… is not for sissies
When people hear where I live, they sigh. To them, I live in paradise.
But to me, it’s just my life. Paradise for me is…well, Paris.
Here are some thoughts on paradise living, just so you won’t fantasize unrealistically.
I am oh so tired of steaming iguana piss running down the back terrace awning when I’m sitting under it. Same goes for the tumbling hot iguana shit. The iguanas perch on my wall with their butt hanging over my yard and relieve themselves to their heart’s content.
Then, there is the part where they run into the house.
The standoff happening in some place in my living room: two snarling dachshunds vs. hissing toloc. Toloc is Maya for gila monster. My dog Cookie gets a piece of her tongue bitten off and bleeds profusely all over my floors. I am screaming, trying to separate dogs from toloc. How am I going to get this toloc out of the house?
Then, a plumber happens to show up, three days later than our appointment. He traps the toloc with a garbage can. With his assistant, they wind duct tape around his snout, rendering him helpless. He tells me that he will release him into the monte (countryside) but I’m not fooled. That sucker will be barbecued over the coals this evening for his tasty dinner.
Yes, this is the animal that tourists are photographing at Uxmal or Chichen Itza — preferring to take a picture of this creature instead of focusing on the buildings and glyphs surrounding them.
How about the scorpions and tarantulas. In abundance. Snakes, of course. Poisonous and non, slithering in the grass. Mouse sized, flying cockroaches scurrying out of kitchen corners at night. Gekko shit on my books and bureau. Call the exterminator? Does. No. Good.
If you have a dog or a cat, beware. They are routinely poisoned by neighbors who may not love your pets. Happens all the time. A bit of poisoned meat thrown over the wall does the trick.
I am tired of blood stained sheets in the morning as a result of killing mosquitos during the night. I have to wash my sheets several times a week. And the bloodstained white walls. Be careful where you swat.
The elastics of any skirts or pants going limp in the heat and needing replacement at least once if not twice a year. The soles separating, melting away from their shoes. The green mold during the rainy season. Look into your closet. “Surprise!”
Biblical rains which flood your house through roof, under doors and via windows, no matter if shut. Tropical rain finds a way in.
Cold cuts turn grey in your car by the time you reach home from the supermarket. Fruit spoils within a day. Meat spoils even faster. If you’re having a party, don’t put out a bowl of potato chips or crackers, they go limp within 30 minutes.
Needing to worm yourself once a year, like you do your dogs and cats. But hey, it’s over the counter medicine.
Not being able to have anything mailed into the country without paying sometimes 100% duty. Until recently no merchants, such as L.L. Bean, or Best Buy, mailed into Mexico. The postal service is “erratic” Ooh, this looks good, I think I’ll keep it, said one mailman to another.
Paying $50 for a plain white t-shirt. If you can find a white t shirt.
If you are over a size 8 woman’s shoe in Mexico, you have to fly to Houston to shoe shop. Mexicans have small feet; so you’re out of luck.
Not being able to say, “I think I’ll cook xyz” and then going to the store to buy the ingredients. Ha! Rather: let’s go to the grocery and see what I will cook.
Having to pay sometimes double for things you can buy inexpensively in other parts of the world. Buy your electronics and computers when traveling in the U.S.
There, just wanted you to know a little bit about life in paradise. Yes, we have sun, 365 days a year. But it also is in the high 90’s for much of the time, with 100% humidity. Every day is a bad hair day, and your clothes is drenched within an hour of putting it on. I’m talking: sweat running down the butt crack. You can’t wear blue jeans — they’re too hot. You shower and change undies and clothes several times a day.
High electric bills, for all the air conditioning you’re going to use. Very high gasoline and telephone rates.
In a future post, I’ll let you know what’s good about living in this paradise of yours. And there is a lot of good. But just wanted to curtail too much unrealistic daydreaming!
So what’s your idea of paradise? Talk to me.
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