shoestring gringa

Do you want to live among many or few of your fellow gringos? Because both scenarios are available. First of all, how’s your Spanish? (You do speak, or are learning, Spanish, aren’t you?) If it’s rudimentary or nonexistent, you’ll need to stick to places with enough fellow English-speakers around make life possible for you. I personally would find this kind of limitation unacceptable.

How sociable are you? If you depend heavily on the company of others for your well-being, and your Spanish is less than adequate, again, better keep to areas with a good supply of potential friends/drinking buddies/backgammon partners, or whatever.

Moving to a foreign country can be isolating, even if your language skills are okay. If you move with a spouse or partner, you’ll be thrown together far more (especially at first) than you ever were in your former life when you both had jobs, buddies, yoga classes, etc. It can be stressful on the relationship. Having ready access to some new buddies can be helpful.

If you’re engaged in absorbing work and used to spending lots of time alone, then access to social resources is not such a big issue. I usually spend the day painting (or more recently, writing this). We’ve made friends here, but don’t see them very often — much like when we lived in the states — because everybody is working.

The advent of the internet has been a huge boon to wanderers everywhere, allowing people to stay connected to friends, information, reading, and entertainment from just about anyplace in the world. It can really take the edge off living in an otherwise isolated situation.

A big advantage of living in a gringo-rich area, possibly even more important than the gringos themselves, is the resources that tend to collect around them. The thing that springs foremost to my mind is English-language libraries. (I really miss the Public Library!) There was one in Merida and I understand there’s one in the Lake Chapala area. There is also, I understand, a big organic vegetable gardening enterprise there. Things like professional pet-sitters, English-language bookstores, and English-speaking doctors are also more likely to be found in expatriate areas.

The big, obvious disadvantage of choosing an area with a large gringo population is the inflated prices you’ll find there. Most of the expatriates from the US or Canada that I’ve encountered are pretty prosperous (at least compared to us), and they tend to drive up housing prices disastrously. This was occurring in Merida when we were there, and has long been true of places like Ajijic and San Miguel de Allende. So, if you’re operating on a shoestring, you will have to go further afield (and speak Spanish) to encounter affordable housing either to rent or to buy. In a large city, like Guadalajara say, you could just explore the non-gringo areas, but smaller places are likely to be expensive across the board. We didn’t even bother checking out San Miguel when we were looking for a new location, because I just assumed it would be too expensive.

It is of course possible, with enough money, to live in a gringo enclave so insular you can’t even tell you’re in Mexico, but that’s not the kind of life we’re talking about here in shoestring-land. In order to taste the delights of the real Mexico, and also to cope with day-to-day life, it is necessary to acquire a decent amount of Spanish (it doesn’t need to be fabulous, just usable). Then you will be free to establish your other priorities and pick and choose accordingly.

Easy or difficult of access? This is something you don’t have to think about usually in the states, as travel is still so cheap and readily available. It’s a much bigger issue in Mexico, however, particularly if you’re in a hurry.

Consider: How far is the nearest airport? How often are there flights to where you might need to go? Some cities may offer direct flights to selected stateside destinations a couple times a week; these can be a real bargain. At other times it will be necessary to route through Mexico City (all roads lead to Mexico City), which costs more. Do you have aged parents or other family likely to necessitate emergency visits? Then maybe San Cristobal de las Casas, on its remote, cloud-shrouded mountaintop, wouldn’t be the best choice (although I think I read somewhere an airport was in the works).

If you’re planning to travel within Mexico, it’s usually a time/money tradeoff. Mexico has a fabulous bus system extending to every nook and cranny of La Republica, and prices are quite decent. But, distances being what they are, bus travel can involve many days, which has its own costs, like eating. Airfares within Mexico are pretty pricey. Rental car prices are comparable to those in the states. Gas prices are rising, although not to the same heights as in the states so far (unleaded is about $2.70 a gallon at this writing). If travel of any sort is going to be a big part of your Mexican life, and money is a consideration, then think well on these things.

Remoteness per se is not necessarily a big deal. It’s the mix that any particular place has to offer that’s important. Progreso, Yucatan, where we lived, for example, was a great location for access to the US by plane; less so for access to the rest of Mexico. This place is pretty damned remote, perched on the tip of the Yucatan peninsula. BUT, it’s only a half-hour from the Merida airport, which has daily flights to Houston, daily reasonably- priced flights to Houston, at that. I flew round-trip Merida to Albuquerque, New Mexico in June of 2006 for only $500. A couple months later, the MG and I traveled to Guadalajara round trip, a far shorter distance, and it cost us $400 each. (I’ve noticed that on Mexican carriers, roundtrip airfares are not discounted as opposed to buying each direction separately, but I don’t know if that’s always the case.) The Merida airport has dozens of flights daily to Mexico City, from where you can connect to anyplace in the world. And, you could do the whole thing without using your car; a taxi from Progreso to the airport was about $25.

Additionally, we were able to ship a crate of five large (48 x 36″) paintings from Merida to our gallery in Arizona, via DHL, for about $500. So, Progreso/Merida was excellent for access to the rest of the world, despite being at the end of the earth and a 7-day drive from Tucson.

In terms of shopping, Progreso had a great central market (roast pig tacos for breakfast!) and a pretty fair small supermarket. We shopped for wine, parmesan, and cat supplies at Sams and Aurrera in Merida, a half-hour drive away. Progreso got its own Aurrera about a month before we left.

In the northern state of Sonora, where we are living now, the situation is very different. Here, we are a three-hour drive from the US border, four to five hours’ drive from the Tucson airport, and a three-hour drive from Hermosillo and its airport. That’s in your own vehicle. There is bus service which of course takes a lot longer.

As far as shopping goes, only very basic items are available in the local tienditas; all other shopping must be done in the city, three hours and maybe $50 in gas distant. The nearest bank is an hour and a half away. Careful planning is of the essence when living in such a remote location. One example: We forgot to fill the truck with gas the day before departing on a trip to the states, and so, after getting up at 4 a.m. for an early start, were obliged to sit around feeling very disgruntled until our local Pemex station opened at 7.

Tropical or temperate climate? This was a biggie for me. I had a lingering suspicion I might not thrive in Yucatan, having once spent a summer in Ft. Lauderdale, which has a similar climate, and boy, was I right.

Some people just love the tropics — (mad dogs and Englishmen, and quite a few Canadians) but if you have never spent the hot season in these precincts, check it out before making any big commitments. I was utterly miserable, having always lived in pleasant Mediterranean climes like California, or the dry desert Southwest. I found the humidity smothering and oppressive. I couldn’t figure out what the hell to wear, because having anything at all next to my flesh was torture. The local women went blithely about bareheaded, in miniskirts and skimpy tops, a style which I declined to emulate because (a) that kind of exposure isn’t too flattering on me, and (b) my skin would have cooked to a crisp. Wearing a bra was unthinkable. I finally devised an acceptable outfit for the street, consisting of a linen-y blouse with pockets which hid the bralessness, a short denim skirt, and a large-brimmed straw crownless hat whose open top allowed the steam to exit off the top of my head while providing shade for my face. So much for fitting in with the locals. I was able to walk to the market and back in this getup, but once home would have to rip it from my body in desperation and run to stand under a cold shower for ten minutes. Around the house I wore loose rayon tank tops and mini-pareos, and hoped nobody would come to the door.

To be fair, many big old houses in Yucatan stay fresh and cool in summer, but our casita, with its asbestos roof, was not among them, despite the high ceilings and sea breezes. Some people resort to air conditioning, at least in one room, to cope with the hot season. Unfortunately I am physically and philosophically allergic to air conditioning. And electricity in Mexico is shockingly expensive.

Winter was marginally better, but to tell the truth I found that pretty unpleasant as well. The humidity was such that one felt chilled at 65F. A malign wet wind blew, ushering in respiratory complaints and flus far nastier than any I’d experienced in drier climates. When it was cool, and the sun was out, it was creepily possible to feel both hot and cold at the same time, a sensation I found singularly disagreeable. No, I did not adapt well to the tropics. We ended up moving.

If, like me, you prefer a temperate clime, you have lots of choice, as the whole north of Mexico qualifies, as well as the vast high central plateau. The climate in many of these places is rightly described as “eternal springtime.” The main thing to be aware of in these areas is that, even if it’s eternally spring outside, the masonry houses can be cold at some times of year, so don’t give all your warm clothes to Goodwill before leaving. And bring that down blankie, and the flannel sheets, and all the rest of it. You can always get rid of it later. But you can’t dash out to Target and buy a new one if you need it.

Are you undecided between living at the beach or inland? One thing to keep in mind is that as a non-Mexican citizen you cannot own property outright within a certain distance of the coast, although a legal mechanism, the fideocomiso, exists to make quasi-ownership possible and secure, but it will cost you extra in fees, legal expenses, and hassles. This is also true of owning property close to the US border.

If you’re leaning towards the beach, IMHO the climate on the Pacific coast is far more pleasant than that on the eastern side, which is very humid.

Another thing to consider, if you are on a budget, is that maintaining a house on or near the beach will take much more time and money than a comparable property inland, due to the corrosive effects of the salt air. Three coats of marine varnish on your new mahogany door can morph into dust in less than a year.

If you are looking to live inland, check out the altitude of prospective locations. Many areas of Mexico are at 5000 feet or more, which has a salutary effect on the climate in areas below the Tropic of Cancer. Consider also if you have any health problems that might be affected — for better or worse — by higher elevations.

If you have a favorite mode of exercise or recreational activity (hiking, cycling, deep sea diving), make sure you will be able to practice it in the new place.

Will you live in the city or the country, or somewhere in between? Most people contemplating a move have a preference in this regard already. Something you may not have thought of (I certainly hadn’t) is that, in Mexico, the further away you get from the city, the less goods and services become available.

This is in total contrast to the US, where the cruddiest burg of 25,000 boasts substantially the same shopping as a large metro area — it might not have Macy’s or Nordstrom’s, but it will have Lowe’s or Home Depot plus a few independent hardware stores, at least one or two art/craft emporia, a fabric store or two, bookstores new and used, all manner of auto supply stores, plumbing and electrical dealers, discount clothing places, thrift and antique shops packed with goodies, not to mention Target, et al., and let us not forget an ample selection of supermarkets and drugstores. What was I talking about? Oh, yes. Well, a comparable variety of consumer opportunity is to be had only in the largest Mexican cities, and even then — it ain’t the same.

If you are lucky, a town of 30,000 or so MIGHT have a Walmart or Aurrera or Soriana, where you can buy wine and Friskies, plus an assortment of local shops (clothing, fabrics, auto supply, bike repair, etc.). From central Mexico on down, most towns of any size have traditional food markets. Stores like Sams Club and Costco (sole sources of imported parmesano, quantity olive oil and kitty litter), and shopping malls are found only in definitely urban areas, say over 200,000 population. If you crave a truly rural ambiente, expect only the most basic items (dried beans, toilet paper, milk, tomatoes and such) to be available locally and be prepared to shop for gringo luxuries on costly pilgrimages to the nearest large city.

A subcategory of the city vs. country question is that of sophistication vs. rusticity. In general, one finds more sophisticated surroundings and company in the city than in the country, like anywhere else. But I will point out that there do exist smaller towns, notably in the colonial areas, which possess an extremely rich cultural heritage and are stuffed to the gills with arty, literary, and intellectual types, both Mexican and foreign, which can thus offer the best of many worlds. I suspect Mexico contains limitless possibilities in this regard, if you take the time to explore.

Method 1, the best way to decide where to go: Already be in love with a place you’ve vacationed in a hundred times, have a bunch of friends there and know your way around, line up a long term rental while on vacation, and go live there and check it out for at least six months. If you’re happy with it, you can start scouting for something to buy.

Method 2, the next best way: If you haven’t any specific place in mind, think generally what your requirements and desires would be. City or country? Beach or inland? Altitude or sea level? Tropical or temperate climate? Sophisticated or rustic? Easy or difficult of access? Many or few fellow gringos? (More will follow on these topics in separate posts.) Get some travel guides, visit the library, go to the bookstore, go online, and narrow it down to several likely possibilities. Then take a leave of absence, close up the house, and go visit them all, staying at least a month in each place, always of course remaining open to unexpected discoveries — it’s Mexico, after all.

Method 3a or 3b, the least desirable ways: Go because you’ve got some relatives there, and they can help you get started, without regard to any of the considerations named in paragraph 2. Or, go somewhere because it’s easy to get back from there to your business interests or your aging parents in the states, without regard to any of the considerations in paragraph 2.

We’ve lived in four different places in Mexico, having used the cretinous and ill-advised methods 3 twice and method 2 but once, and I cannot praise numbers 1 and 2 highly enough in the light of our experiences. No matter how expensive or impossible it seems to get away and do this much-needed research beforehand, trust me, it is going to be 1000 times more expensive, not to mention insanely stressful, to do it on the spot, with all of your worldly goods, dogs, cats, children, photo collection, or whatever, in tow. Do your homework! You’ve been warned.

Keep in mind:

Rental properties vary from slightly difficult to impossible to find in Mexico, depending on where you are. Even HOTELS can be difficult to find, more so if you have a few cats with you, say, or if you’re towing a trailer with all your crapola in it and need a safe place to park it while you sleep.

Mistakes tend to be costlier than in the states. Mexicans just don’t move around much and things are set up for the long term. We paid two $60 penalties for moving our internet service before they got rid of the obligatory contract business recently. You might have to wait weeks for phone or internet service to be installed, while your whole life goes on hold. And setting up house in a new place can take two people a good month to accomplish, full-time, without doing anything else.

Of course, if you have oodles of money (and an overdeveloped sense of adventure) then preparation doesn’t matter so much, but if you are moving “on a shoestring,” my words of wisdom for the day are: plan, plan, and plan some more. Know (something — anything — as much as you possibly can!) before you go!