Routines... and Mexico

Getting used to retirement is like getting used to anything else. There's a few rocky fits and starts but after awhile the groove sets in and life is normal again. I think we're surrounded by normal people who have got it figured out and we're the examples who haven't. You see we're not content yet. The wanderlust, that invites changes, is still present so we're actively planning our next move. Not that we're not happy here as it's been one of the best places we've been but there is that something that gets us excited about new places that wait around the next bend.

One of the neat things that have made this stop fun is that Sharon's aunt and uncle winter here and have taken the time to show us around to all the sites in the area. Not only the best places to go but the ones to avoid as well. They encouraged us to come to south Texas in the first place and their advice was golden. The people, the park, the weather, and the chance to be with family again has made this a special stop. We've still got about two weeks to go and plans are quickly forming to take advantage of every day.



The rainy weather the past day or so has brought the temperature down and has kept us from visiting some of the outdoor attractions we had planned. However it ended this morning and we all decided to take a trip to the little city of Progreso just across the border. As with many border towns I suppose, they're not much to look at but novelty is the draw and maybe even a bargain or two. Our tour guides (you remember...Mo and Di) have been here many times so it was nice to have a little help in understanding what we were getting into.

As we waded through the vendors and beggars we can upon a vendor that Mo knew would offer good deals on hats. As it turns out we were all in the mood to buy so before long the young Mexican hat salesman and his sister had us all trying on various styles and sizes. Di finds a dandy and we all agree it looks good on her. Don't you think so too?

In total the four of us purchased five hats and probably could have had more if we had stayed a few minutes longer. At around $10 each we all thought we were getting a good deal.

As we have travelled around it never ceases to amaze me of the inventiveness of people who create opportunities for themselves no matter what their circumstances. There is no argument that Mexico is a poor third world country and its people need to scratch and dig for most of what they have. Few handouts from the government, and a still struggling economy, has created a region that exemplifies the old saying 'necessity is the mother of invention'. Easy examples are those who have taken advantage of the lack of drug distribution laws. It seemed like every other establishment was a drug store with employees on the sidewalk hawking every thing from Amoxicillan to Zocor. No prescription needed. Step right up. These stores were busy filling orders from those who shun Walgreens and WalMart on our side of the border. Where their stock comes from or is it counterfeit is any ones guess. Saving big money on medical expenses rules.

Another eye opener was seeing the many medical offices offering a wide variety of medical procedures...eye lifts, teeth whitening, liposuction, and tattoo removal...the list goes on. You need it done, somewhere in the bowels of Progreso is a shop that will do it for you. These people have figured out how to eck out a living doing what their laws and conscience allow. Their market is the steady flow of US citizens who seek them out.

Maybe not the most unique or demanding job on the planet is shining shoes. Cowboy boots, work boots, high heels, low heels, wingtips, or penny loafers..the street corner vendor can do it all. But I ran across one who saw a need, created the service, and by all observations has a steady clientele. His speciality was shining white gym shoes. Bring on your filthy Adidas', your grungy Nikes... it makes no difference. I watched these mud magnets turned into Cinderella slippers in this man's hands. He may have not been the mother of that invention but he certainly took advantage of the throngs of Gringos needing a cleanup. Good for him...honest, hard work to help take care of his needs.

Among the citizens of Progreso a number chose, for whatever reason, to beg for money. During the two or three hours I was there at least 25 people approached me asking for money. Youngsters as young as 5 holding out dirty Styrofoam cups gently.tapping on your arm, 'please senior, Please'. I've had this happen to me in other places and it's still hard to turn your eyes away and keep walking. If you didn't you may never leave, but you do anyway. This small army of pan handlers are joined by mother's sitting along the main sidewalks, holding their nursing infant in one hand and holding that dirty Styrofoam 'begging' cup in the other. A distraction at best, a tragedy at worse.

I will probably not return to the border towns again. The novelty quickly wore off and the extremes in cultures are a little to much for me. Maybe feeling a little guilty because what material things we have is part of it, but like many, I'll choose to turn away and just avoid it. Probably nothing to be proud of I suspect. As we were leaving the small town and were about to walk over the bridge to the US, we caught some movement at our feet.

Small vertical openings were present along the edge of the bridge walkway. Not more than 4 or 5 inches wide; just enough to get a hand through, this last window into poverty had a withered hand thrust through it holding an upturned hat. A last chance to get a donation, a handout, maybe something to buy dinner with, maybe something to put into their IRA...who knows.. but it was there. Sharon succumbed to the plea and put a few coins in the hat. It wasn't much, it didn't undo the sadness.

On a much, much lighter note...my daughter requested that if we were going to Mexico would we pick up several bottles of tequila as the prices were very low. Since I know little about the fiery concoction, she offered up a few names to look out for. Noting that we would be gone for another four months she was undaunted in her request. So, as we wandered among the shops we found many a bottle of the potent stuff. Prices were good as a ten dollar bill would buy 80% of the brands. However the brand she wanted was not on every shelf. I looked and looked. Three, five, six shops were scoured for this magic elixir with little luck. But, with aching back and sore feet I finally found it at the last shop I visited just before leaving the country. Don Julio 1942. What a pretty bottle I thought. What made this pale yellow liquid so appealing? Why was it so scarce? Was it that the locals thought it a bad product? Was it in high demand? No...no..no

It was the price! Not for the faint of heart, this fluted bottle of buzz juice was priced for the champagne budget...not a Budweiser one. As you can see it's a pricey little gem that for some, may be the answer to the perfect drunk but for me and my old conservative ways, nothing I could ever justify.

So sorry Scott...sorry Leigh...sorry Kevin...sorry Jenny...sorry Steve. I've let you down and those bottles are still on the shelf. This old Gringo just couldn't swing the deal this time. As for the other Don Julio 'flavors' you requested, none were found.

How about some Stiner Bock?