An American Mother in Mexico

I often encounter locals in Mexico who are quite shocked to hear that I have three sons…one in the U.S. one in Hong Kong and one in Thailand part of the year. To make it worse my husband is in Thailand also.

Why do you let them go there!? Never mind that the kids at least are 44, 42 and 37! And as if I could do anything about it anyway!

Sticking his finger out at me, one teacher implied I was a bad mother to let them go. Why not, I asked? Because it is dangerous! Never mind that the countries they are in are no more dangerous than Mexico! Never mind that kids as young as 12 crawl across the border illegally without their families. But that is survival and maybe another story. Or not.

Mexican children are expected to take care of their parents until death. This means not leaving home (or at least nearby their home) while they are alive if they have a choice. It means that Mexicans who have immigrated to the U.S. and lived there for 30 years are proud to come home as their parents age to spend their last years, months, weeks or days with them. Maybe we Americans could learn something from these people if we had more respect for our elders.

We Americans, until the recent economic downturn, usually have expected our kids to be on their own by about the age of 18…or out of college. We Americans are pragmatic. My Mexican-American friend, who was born in the U.S. but grew up with migrant parents and now lives in Mexico with her Mexican National husband responds this way when she hears Mexicans lamenting the American style of family

“If 18 years isn’t long enough to teach your children to be independent, then how long does it take?” Ha ha. That’s Patty!

I would never want my children to feel pressured by any kind of emotional blackmail. I would hate for my kids to feel a “duty” to me instead of love and interest freely given and received. I have my own life as does my husband in Thailand and we are careful not to try to live out our lives through our children….in other words…laying a trip on them. Often it is the parents who are getting their needs filled through their children.

I feel that I had a chance to live my life the way I wanted. I left home at the age of 12 because all children of isolated farm families had to go away to school if they wanted a decent education within which to prepare for university. My mother, a child of Polish immigrants and having grown up on an isolated ranch in Montana, did the same.

And it is now my children’s opportunity to answer to their heart’s desire. When I talk to young Mexicans this way I sense yearning. When I describe what my children are doing in various parts of the world they sigh. When I talked to my young female dentist about her mother who she took care of until she died, I asked if she was very sick. No, she said. She just had a problem in her head. Oh, I said…she was senile? No, no, no, she said. She was fine. She just wanted her children around her all the time so me and my three brothers would take turns visiting her each day! Oh, I said. Needy. Yes! she said. Then she sighed.

I think it’s good not to confuse geography with intimacy. It’s not the location that makes the difference. For me, it’s the frequency and quality of the communication. You can be interdependent and not living in the immediate vicinity of each other. Whether it is “fashionable” or not strikes me as an odd question. I am proud of my very close relationship with my “kids.” And thank God for video skype. I suspect they are quite happy that I am not in their hair all the time with me in Mexico. 😉 They always just rolled their eyes and did what they wanted to anyway.

Having said that, however, we are all very dependent on each other for safety and helping each other with personal needs. I have recently sent my oldest, in the US, a lengthy list of instructions…and put his name on the title of my car, and my living will, in case something happens to me here in Mexico. My Thai daughter-in-law says, “mom, I take care you!” You should have seen the look on my son’s face! hahahaha. Whatever will be will be but I know I would want to be independent as long as possible. Maybe located in a group home with a wonderful caregiver where my 94 year old mother-in-law is.

The kids left home when they went to university and afterward found their own paths in life which happened to take them away from their birth place. The oldest, unmarried, is in Las Vegas because that is where there was the greatest demand for his work at the time. Besides he hated the cold and windy and cloudy NW of the US and Chicago where he did his medical residency and likes the heat to physically train in. The middle one visited Thailand, loves the culture and the water and fell in love with a young Thai woman to whom he has been married for 9 years. She’s the daughter I never had and she’s funny and very wise. The youngest went to culinary school after university which led to working in Manhattan for eight years, Beijing for two and now Hong Kong for three. He has decided to stay in HK, has just been promoted to Executive Chef at the American Club and is quite happy to be avoiding the financial crisis in the US. It probably helps that he has a long-term relationship with his Cantonese girlfriend. 😉

I suppose living internationally came naturally to my family because they were raised within an extended Mexican family that I had lived with in high school. Then I was a volunteer director of a foreign student exchange program while they were in high school and they were exposed to students of many cultures when I would often host parties for them in our home. And I had a disabled Mexican girl for six months and a boy from Brazil as exchange students for a year in our home. And they all separately often traveled internationally before settling into their jobs.

Truthfully, I am so happy that they are all healthily capable of living independently…finding adventure and new horizons. I am excited though, that, after 14 years, we are all meeting up together on Koh Samui Thailand at the end of January 2013.

Thanksgiving 2011

I was invited to a wonderful Thanksgiving potluck…turkey, trimmings and all. Far more than any of us could eat in a week of course. Most of these young people were volunteers for En Via…a local micro-finance project. Some were former couchsurfers who had stayed with me. And some I met through the others. Great bunch of younguns! And I am grateful they included a 67 year old lady! ha!

Oaxaca Resistance-2006

This comunique will not make much sense without the back story but it will give you a taste of the flavor of the struggle in the indigenous pueblos for autonomy that was promised by the Mexican government in 1945 and the indigenous resistance against the effort of the PRI Party, in control for over 75 years in Mexico, to take over their land…rich in precious metals and minerals. This is not even to mention the resistance against foreign mining companies who suck up precious water to take the gold…lining pockets of government bureaucrats while giving the people pennies on the dollar for the use of their land.

Letter to an authoritarian government. Communiqué from VOCAL
Published: AUGUST 20, 2011
To: Mr. Marco Tulio Lopez Escamilla, Minister of Public Safety of the State of Oaxaca

CC: Mr. Gabino Cue Monteagudo, Governor of the State of Oaxaca.

As the indigenous people of Oaxaca that we are, ancestral inhabitants of these lands for thousands of years before your ancestors came from Spain to plunder our wealth, which they continue to do, we wish to respond to some of the allegations you made yesterday. Even though they are cloaked in the ambiguity, fallacy and vulgarity so characteristic of the speeches of politicians and functionaries, we understand that they refer to us, and so we want to answer in the only way we know how –clearly and directly.

Read More

Couchsurfing in Oaxaca


The above photos are just a few of the 40 couchsurfers I have hosted over the last couple of years.

I retired in 2002 and spent the next 5 years on the road…then chose Oaxaca as a home base. Since I live alone with extensive travel only every year and a half or so, when my surfers from other countries come I feel like I am traveling again!

I have grown attached to every single one of my surfers and I keep in touch with many of them on my FB page. I space them however, so that I make sure I am “up for it” when they do come and that my time with them is quality time. The young women sometimes become like the adult daughters I never had and I totally relate to the young men who make me feel like I am with my 3 boys who are off to the winds. And I’ve loved the bicyclers!

If surfers are just enjoying some “down time” in my apartment I enjoy seeing them enjoy themselves and I enjoy cooking for them. Having said that, however, I hope I never make them feel obligated to spend any more time with me than they are willing. I take my cues from them and don’t try to control their experiences…letting them be as independent as they would like. I hope they don’t feel “mothered!” :)) After all they are adults traveling to experience other cultures/languages and as an expat in Mexico I try to introduce them to as many locals as I can…often inviting them to join our dinners. I like to share local mores and politics if they are interested.

And my age means that I don’t get the hard-core partiers that come in late drunk. The fact that surfers choose me says a lot about them, I think. And I read and screen profiles well. Reading between the lines is an art.

The tone is set in the beginning. I trust them to be respectful and responsible just as I did with my own kids and the kids in my alternative education program for 10 years. So far my surfers have lived up to it. My fingers are crossed but then if there are troubles I will just consider it a teaching moment for us both.

I just get high on the smiles and laughter my surfers bring to me which I think is reciprocated.

Thank you to all my surfers now and in the future. And of course I enjoy all the other ages too! Bente and all the 50+ friends I am waiting for you! 😀 I know, it’s summertime and Norwegians are outside and not on the computer!

A Brush With Evil

Monday April 11 one of my American friends…a long time expat…went missing in Oaxaca sometime between 7:30am and noon. On thursday his body finally rose in the well outside his kitchen door. The motive appears to be theft but some also suspect vengeance because Tonee was beaten to death before he was shot in the back of the head. Two other Americans…a man and his wife…are among the suspects although the case has not closed yet. They have been released with no explanation. Locals nod knowingly and say “money.” Two other Mexican male suspects remain in jail.

Tonee lived in my apartment before me. His walls are painted with his colors. I sleep in the bed he had built especially for him. My dishes occupy his cupbords and my spices are in his spice rack. His best friend, my apartment manager, lives downstairs. He was one of the most gentle and generous people I have known. Tonee’s son is here. He is his father’s son for sure. Why him? Maybe his goodness made him vulnerable to some crazed psychopath?

This unspeakable event has colored my life for the past month and a half. Easter week came and went unnoticed. Friends call friends desperate for information. Rumors abound. Life goes unkindly on.

Oaxaca on a Sunday

This Sunday morning there is the usual weekend Tai Chi group trying to generate some peace in the park across from my apartment while a birthday party on the edge of the park 50 yards away a very loud hard rock band blares so loud I can hear it in my back bedroom like it was playing on the veranda! LOL

Tai Chi

Birthday Party with Hard Rock Band

San Andreas Paxtlan, Oaxaca MX

In 2006-7 I lived in an apartment on Calle Fiallo about 6 blocks south of the Zocalo in which I got to know the maid, Adelina, and her lively bright daughter Fernanda. Adelina is a great single mom and I am helping finance Fernanda’s schooling. A couple Sunday’s ago we went on Adelina’s only day off, to the village about 4 hours from Oaxaca City, that Adelina was raised in, to visit her mother and other family members.

Fernanda, me and Adelina

Adelina's mom making tortillas

Tortillas for the week

Adelina Serving us Cafe de Olla

Mom and cousins

Zicatela Beach and Colotepec, Puerto Escondido,Oaxaca

Well, I haven’t posted for quite awhile. Been on twitter and computer livestreams ever since the uprising in the MENA (Middle East North Africa) trying to make sense of it. Suffice it to say I am supporting the rebels and the humanitarian aspect of the intervention to the consternation of many on leftist internet forums who are incensed that the US and Europe would AGAIN enter a ME country with their planes and bombs. Interestingly enough, the far right tweeters I am following are just as incensed.

But I did take a break and drove 6 or so hours over a rotten mountain road with constant switch-backs and huge potholes to Zicatela Beach at Puerto Escondido. My first visit to the coast. Lovely. No high-rises. Just palapas and beach…and surfers…and great weather.

I went there with a Canadian friend who used to live and work here in the 70’s. We visited a family, old friends of his, in Colotepec, a small Zapotec village about 30 minutes from Zicatela.

Huayapam Oaxaca Baptism

Friends Mica and Bardo live in Huayapan, about 30 minutes from Oaxaca City on a good day. Mica’s mom is raising two nephews whose parents are living and working in the States. So it came time for the baptism and of course the accompanying fiesta with DJ music for dancing. Few people actually attended the baptism in the church but instead waited at Mica’s mom’s house where the party was to be…visiting with family and friends.

Women Preparing for party


Christmas 2010 Now I KNOW I Am In Mexico

January 11th, 2010
December 23rd is the Fiesta of the Rabanos in the Zocalo. Huge radishes are grown just for the annual carving up into all manner of scenes, animals and whatever the imagination conjures up which are all on display and then judged. You can read a more detailed description of the Rabanos in an earlier post here.

The Zoc was packed so my friend Sharon and I made our way slowly to the Palacio to listen to a music group…Las Tunas…a hilariously funny singing group of guys all dressed up in Medieval Spanish costume…looking quite ridiculous. A suited up guy came out of the Palacio in the middle of a crowd of people around him. Hey look, the new Governor! God is he good-looking!

Christmas week four Couchsurfers…two on the living room floor. The first couple (Mexican and Dutch) was hitch-hiking, and getting into Oaxaca a few days late, overlapping with the second couple (Swiss and French Lao).

But on the 24th I had promised Oaxacan friends I would be there for Christmas Eve dinner and I just couldn’t take an extra 4 people and it was a damn good thing. What time, I asked. Oh, 7 or 8pm they said. Ok, I thought, I’ll go at 8. But I should have known, after 5 years living in Oaxaca, that time means nothing to Mexicans!

I picked up my old friend Max. 9pm came and went and I didn’t think anything of it. But then 10pm…and then 11pm. I had forgotten the custom was to eat Christmas eve dinner at midnight!

After dinner they invited me to come the next morning for breakfast at 11:00. It is the custom to eat left-overs from the night before for breakfast. Max and I got there at 11am. No breakfast. Nobody said anything. 12pm came. 1pm came. 2pm came.

Then another friend (born and reared in Italy and having lived in the U.S. and now Oaxaca) showed up and she knew immediately what was going on! About 4m she finally says, Oh, come eat with us! By this time it was time for cena (the last meal of the day) so we all happily went to eat left-overs with her and her husband (including the family who had invited me for breakfast) and her two grown kids visiting from the U.S and Spain.

During all this time the Couchsurfers had been happily cooking and entertaining each other in my apartment!

Mexicans celebrate New Year’s Eve or locally known as Año Nuevo, by downing a grape with each of the twelve chimes of the bell during the midnight countdown, while making a wish with each one. Mexican families decorate homes and parties, during New Year’s, with colors such as red, to encourage an overall improvement of lifestyle and love, yellow to encourage blessings of improved employment conditions, green to improve financial circumstances and white to improved health. Mexican sweet bread is baked with a coin or charm (in Oaxaca it is a tiny plastic Jesus) hidden in the dough. When the bread is served, the recipient whose slice contains the coin or charm is believed to be blessed with good luck in the new year and they are supposed to give the next fiesta party. They don’t…they just laugh.

New Years Eve I was in bed by 8 trying to enjoy some badly needed sleep interspersed with fireworks, rockets, banda music, church bells, laughing and squealing.

Next year I will know better.