shoestring gringa

The Black Dress, oil on canvas

What with the chronic scarcity of books here in casa shoestring, I spend lots of time reading on the internet.  One group of blogs I follow is by women who write about personal style, with a subset of women my age (let’s say older) writing about personal style.  They often discuss clothing, but also life in general, what used to be called in former times the art of living:  what this consists of, why so few people seem to either care about it or achieve it nowadays, cultural conflicts surrounding the pursuit of it, why Europeans seem to do it so much better, and what makes it so ironically, maddeningly elusive in the good old consumer-goods-saturated USA.

It’s been nice to find some like-minded souls out there interested in creating beauty in their lives, and I click through their blogs with interest every morning.   We have things in common, at least we seem to have read a lot of the same books.   Although that genre of books, on reflection, seems more focused on avoiding affronts to aesthetics than creating beauty… but I digress.   The books contain some helpful rules and principles, which we’ve all imbibed dutifully.

When it comes to the practical achievement of our shared ideals, however, I must part company with my cyber-sisters, what with living in Mexico and all.  For example, one dictum to be found in all the how-to books and a favorite among the faithful:  Edit your wardrobe ruthlessly.  If you have not worn it in the last year (or two), throw it out!

Oops, can’t do that!  Here in Mexico, we dare not get rid of anything, ever, from used mayonnaise jars to old tires.  These things — all things –  are not so easy to come by, and once their original purpose is done with, sooner or later they’ll surely come in useful for something else.  I think Mexico must be the recycling capital of the world.  Nothing ever gets wasted here.  I’ve always found this highly admirable; apart from the obvious virtue of avoiding waste,  the creativity which results appeals to the artist in me.

So, clothes.  I don’t get rid of them, unless they’re really in shreds, and then they get a decent funeral.  This doesn’t mean to say I use the entire stash at any given time; far from it.  What I do is, at each change of season, go through it all and pick out whatever looks interesting for the upcoming months.  Sometimes I might remodel a piece or dye it a different color.  Despite the fact I’ve had most of the stuff for years, there are always delightful surprises waiting, items whose existence I’ve totally forgotten (memory loss does have its uses).  Once sorted, the rest goes back into the footlocker with a couple of mothballs, to lie fallow for another year.  The clothes of the season currently ending are stored in a separate box.

Using these pieces as a foundation, I can fill in any gaps with a few new items, usually basics like worn-out t-shirts, or some accessory to pull things together.  My side of our tiny clothes rack and my clothes drawers remain organized and uncrowded, my mind uncluttered by extraneous stuff.  But reassured all the same by the knowledge it will be there the day I or someone else needs it, a day as easy to imagine as mañana here in Mexico.

There are some cultural differences it’s important to keep in mind when hiring people to work for you in Mexico.  The main one is that Mexicans LOATHE talking about money.  If you don’t believe me, take a look at the classified section of any Mexican newspaper and count the number of for-sale ads that actually state a price.  Close to zero, that’s how many.  It’s very annoying to the gringo way of thinking — you have to make a call to find out if you’re even interested.  In Mexico, however, contact with one’s fellows is clearly valued way more than efficiency.

You’ll find this same attitude when hiring people to perform services for you, from building a house to catering a party.  What typically happens is something like this:  You describe the project in detail, then ask what the person would charge for it.  Instead of naming a price, they’ll tell you something like, “Oh, don’t worry about it, it won’t be much.”

If you allow yourself to be put off by this evasion out of a misguided sense of politeness, lack of assertiveness, fear of making a cultural misstep, or any other reason, I guarantee you will regret it.   If it’s a one-shot deal, like a car repair, you can write it off to experience, but failing to establish a price on larger projects can prove extremely costly both financially and emotionally.  ALWAYS AGREE ON A PRICE FIRST!

In hiring people for construction work, there are two approaches to payment: contract or wage.  Some workers prefer one or the other, others are flexible.  Under the contract plan, the maestro bids a price for the completed job.  Some amount of the total will be required up front to get the job going, and the rest at determined intervals.  An advantage to this is the work may be completed quickly, so the contractor can move on to the next job.  On the other hand, if the contractor is a flake, you may never see him again, or the job could take forever.   Another disadvantage is that the work might be hurried or slipshod, or materials may be skimped on if the bid was unrealistically low.  Also, you can’t make any significant changes without renegotiating the price.  Consider too that your helpful/supervising presence is less likely to be welcomed by a maestro racing to finish the project than one being paid a fixed wage.  If you want to be closely involved with the job and be able to make creative decisions as you go along, the wage basis is probably preferable.  A wage arrangement is likely to take longer than a contract, but you’re more likely to get exactly what you want.

Overall, contract arrangements are probably riskier, especially for larger jobs.  Always try to find people with excellent personal recommendations from someone you trust.  In addition, do not hesitate to fire anyone whose work is not satisfactory; you can always find someone will do the job properly.

Obviously there are situations where quoting an exact price will not be possible (as in car repairs where the extent of the problem is not known), in which case you should ask for an estimate including the worst-case price.

If a person absolutely will not name a price for you, walk away.  Even if they’re the greatest cook/mechanic/architect/friend of yours in all of Mexico, even if it took you weeks of searching to find them.  There’s always somebody else, and you’ll avoid a world of heartache, misunderstandings, and financial losses by taking the time to find them.

The good news is that Mexico has a wondrous system of modern, well-maintained, four-lane highways going pretty much anywhere in the Republic you might wish to visit. The bad news is that they are toll roads (Cuotas), and they cost an arm and a leg.

I guess the other good news is that you don’t have to use them; you are always free to use the Libre, the free road, along with the rest of the hoi polloi and most of the trucks. The Libres are generally older, in worse repair, two lanes only, lacking in shoulders for important activities like tire-changing or avoiding oncoming trucks in your lane, hillier/curvier, more congested, and take longer to get from point A to point B.

Despite the above disadvantages, on some stretches the Libres can actually be nicer than the Cuotas (I haven’t been there recently but the Libre between Tijuana and Ensenada was at one time a little paradise on earth in the springtime).The trouble is, when traveling through unfamiliar territory, how are you going to know? The cautious traveler will usually elect the Cuota the first time around, especially if driving a large vehicle or towing something.

Apart from safety considerations, the Cuotas offer two notable amenities as consolation for the staggering fees they charge.

The first is that they usually have really nice bathrooms, which after all one would hope, at those prices.

An even greater convenience is that most Cuotas will take US dollars in payment, and give you change in pesos. If you find yourself running out of pesos, this can save endless hours of searching for banks or casas de cambio in strange towns. The Cuota stations usually have the (generally reasonable) exchange rate posted prominently on the booth. Some, but not all, will take only $20 bills or smaller. In the many, many toll stations we have passed through in the last two years, I remember seeing only one or two that did not accept dollars.

Mexican toll roads charge by a formula which is posted, with helpful pictures, on the approach to the toll booths. Basically they charge by the number of axles you have, as far as I can figure. So if you’re towing a trailer or driving something with lots of wheels, expect to pay more. On our most recent travels with a cargo trailer, about nine months ago, a cheap toll would be about 19 pesos (~$1.90 USD), an expensive one well in excess of 100 pesos (~$10.00 USD). I seem to recall a couple $20+ tolls. There is no apparent rhyme or reason to the charges with relation to distance; some 19-peso tolls were good for hours of happy motoring, whereas some of the “omigod, 15 bucks!!!” ones paid for only a half-hour stretch.

Driving a gas-guzzling V8 pickup, as we have been doing, and pulling a two-axle cargo trailer, we have found toll charges add up to somewhere between one-half and three-fourths of the amount we pay for gas. If you’re planning to use toll roads when driving in Mexico, be sure to include a generous amount for them in the budget!