Home Sweet Home

It has been far too long since I have blogged and I hope everyone is doing well. Things have been fantastic here and I’ve just been busy living life: Another testament to the fact that life goes on after immigration woes.

We moved again in February so I was without internet for a while as we got settled in. Yes. We moved again. This marks our 4th house here in Juarez and I was slightly embarrassed as our neighbors watched us packing up our things for the 3rd time in a year and I swear I heard someone yell, “pinche gypsies,” out their window. Maybe it was the wind. Regardless, this move was the right thing for us and I am so happy we did it. The last house was perfectly fine, but definitely not where I wanted to live until 2021. The parking was horrendous, the security situation was laughable, there was no room to entertain our friends, no storage space and no yard for the dogs.

We actually found the new house on accident. It’s in the same neighborhood but in a section where the lots are twice the size so we never really looked over here, assuming the houses were out of our price range. My husband was giving a friend a ride when he saw the Se Renta sign in front of the little red brick house that I now call home. We are both semi-obsessed with brick homes but don’t see a whole lot of that here in the stucco/concrete jungle that is Juarez. He drove me past the house the next morning, with no true intentions behind any of it. Oddly enough, when we pulled up a woman called out to us from a car parked across the street.

“I’ve been waiting for you!” she said as she motioned for us to come over to her. We both looked at each other in utter confusion, but for whatever reason we parked the car and got out without exchanging a word. It was like the damn house was pulling us in. We didn’t ask any questions as she showed us around but eventually it came out that she thought we were the couple from El Paso that were scheduled to view the house that morning. Luckily, they never showed up.

I instantly fell in love with this place. I tried not to. I tried really hard. Well, not that hard. I knew it would cost more than we were paying, and we were already struggling. And I was right. It’s $1,500 pesos more than we were paying, but I was in love. What’s a girl to do? I crunched the numbers as soon as we got home and found a solution. We would have to cancel our cable service and our home phone, switch to a cheaper internet service, cut our cell phone minutes in half, cancel my UPS mailbox in El Paso and start getting my mail at work, put half as many pepperonis in my calzones, and voilà! $1,500. Can you feel the love?

When I am here I don’t even feel like I’m in Mexico. The fixtures and other details are beautifully done and not really what you would typically find in a home here. The kitchen is more than double the size of our previous homes. There is so much cabinet space that I even have 2 cupboards that are entirely empty, and I am that woman that has every kitchen gadget you can think of: multiple sizes of crock pots, George Foreman grills, griddles, a Cuisinart, different blenders, you name it. Hell, I have 2 coffee pots and we don’t even drink coffee. My gigantic tamale pots even fit inside one of the cabinets! For as much as I cook this kitchen has literally changed my life. There is also an island that looks out to the living room so we actually have a place to eat other than the coffee table.



Let’s be honest though… The island is mainly used to throw crap on. At the other house it was the stairs, which drove me insane. This works much better.



The house has wood floors throughout except for the kitchen and bathrooms which are tile. Yes, I said bathrooms. Plural. There is a half bath on the first floor and sometimes we like to pee at the same time just because we can. We have never had more than one bathroom, even when we lived in the US. The windows and doors are also framed with wood and have a very rustic look. It brings this color and warmth and richness that we never thought we would find in a home here. But I’m telling you, with all this wood, this house is a termite’s wet dream. That does make me nervous although I never hear people talking about termites here, or see pest control companies for that matter, so maybe it’s not a huge issue?



There is a laundry room off of the kitchen which is really awesome after spending the last year and a half washing our clothes outside or in dilapidated, poorly covered patios. The stairway is nice and wide, and not steep at all. This is also a huge contrast from the narrow death traps we had at our last 2 rentals. I swear I always knew that if I were to die in Juarez, it wouldn’t be because a cartel member chopped my head off for having blonde eyebrows but because I had one too many and plummeted down the stairs.



The staircase leads to a loft that has built-in bookshelves, a desk and even more storage space. I had all intentions of making this area my office, but as you can see, I’ve set up shop on the kitchen island and am feeling pretty comfy down here. I mostly go up there to read.



The two bedrooms are a nice size and the gigantic closets distract from the weird paint on the walls.



We have been pretty lazy about painting our bedroom because let’s be honest, we don’t spend a lot of time in there with the lights on! Everyone assumed we’d have it painted right away but… eh.



The best part about the house is the outdoor space. We finally have a gated area to park our car, and nice back patio to grill on, and grass. Real grass! I think the yard is as exciting to us as it is to the dogs. They even have a doggie door now and can come and go as they please. It is so nice to be able to have friends over to cook out, and not have to get up from our lawn chairs every 5 seconds to move someone’s car so that a neighbor can get out. Our last two houses were on the end of a dead end street and the lots were narrower than the length of most cars. That combined with the fact that each house seemed to have about 3 cars parked on the street caused some serious headaches.

We also have an actual security guard and keyed entry to the neighborhood. By “actual,” I mean that he’s not 80 years old, doesn’t spend his day making trips to Bip Bip to pick up milk for my neighbors, and doesn’t drink Tecates until he passes out around noon at the front gate. Win. This house is also equipped with an alarm system, motion detectors and all, which is another added comfort considering we are at work a good 13 hours a day.

So yes, maybe I am completely nuts to have moved this many times and was so embarrassed we didn’t even ask our friends to help this time around, but it was totally worth it. We lost about $15,000 pesos in deposits in the search, but I know this one’s a keeper. We actually fully unpacked for the first time since we left Arizona. I feel so blessed that we found what we've always wanted and hope that this blog didn't bore everyone. I just wanted to share that it is possible to find a place to proudly call home even if it isn't in The United States. I'm crossing all my fingers and toes that this will be our home for the rest of the time we are in Juarez.

Did I mention one of the bathrooms has a toilet paper roll holder? #firstworldfeliz

Bring It

This morning I woke to find my husband taking short breaths, grasping his chest as if he had just been punched by Mike Tyson. His face was the absolute definition of fear and frustration and eventually, he broke into tears, asking me to take him to the hospital. I hadn’t taken him seriously until the waterworks began. He may cry during an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, but if not subjected to watch children suffering from a terminal illness or the likes, tears are a rarity with my husband. We ventured into the early morning darkness in search of an IMSS hospital. We passed several “regular” hospitals (like the kind we are used to in America) in our search for a public hospital. IMSS hospitals in Mexico do not charge their patients, do not require insurance, and fill all prescriptions at no charge. I am told the care is sub-par, and the waits are horrendous, but that it usually does the trick when you can’t afford anything more than… a trick.

I didn’t get a chance to develop my own opinions of IMSS because apparently we arrived hours before they opened and we couldn’t find any Urgencias (Emergency Room) entrances. Instead my husband suggested I take him to work where he could see a nurse in the infirmary, and assured me that if it were a matter of life or death, she would be able to call an ambulance. It’s quite a predicament, isn’t it? We are in “my husband’s” country, yet it is so foreign to him, he doesn’t even know how to call for help in an emergency. We will be investigating this for sure.

The nurse at his work took his blood pressure and immediately diagnosed him with alta-presion. After a couple of hours of observation he was sent to S-mart to purchase celery, which was said to be the solution to all his problems. Whatever. I stopped judging my husband’s gullibility a long time ago. Maybe I’m just a skeptic asshole for even considering him to be gullible in the first place. All I know is that celery isn’t the answer. I called him every hour throughout the day to make sure he was still alive and left work a half hour early with the intention of taking him forcefully to the hospital. When I finally made it home he didn’t look as desperate as he announced that we could no longer eat pork and I saw a bag of dry oatmeal and an aloe leaf out of the corner of my eye. Here we go…

Dr. Magallanes was recommended to us by the mechanic on the corner. When we entered his office, conveniently located in front of a Farmacia Benevides, my husband was comforted by the fact that he recognized a patient in the waiting room as one of our neighbor’s “rich, older brothers.” His words, not mine. I guess my husband isn’t familiar with just how stupid and uninformed rich people can be, but that’s another blog, my friends. The floor of the clinic was dirty and I was just happy they had a wi-fi connection so I could distract myself with Facebook. Gordo seemed to be working on some deep breathing, Zen type techniques as we watched Canal Historia on the television in the waiting room. I can’t remember what show was on. The distractions turned out to be a necessity because from the second we walked into this place I was skeptical. Not only am I naturally skeptical to medicine in general (thanks to my mother and her schooling on homeopathic remedies) but I also happen to be American. As an American, I think “our” medicine and methods are better than that of any other country out there, whether it’s true or not.

When it was our turn for Ray’s “consulta,” I carefully studied the degrees and accolades that hung haphazardly on the stained walls of the doctor’s office. I questioned whether or not it would be rude to ask why there were only copies of the doctor’s degree from the Universidad Autonomo de Ciudad Juarez instead of the originals. I decided to keep my mouth shut. I bit my tongue as Dr. Magallanes took my husband’s vitals and asked him routine questions. I fought the urge to argue that further tests were needed and why the hell doesn’t this dude know what Aleve is? When the questioning was done, I was surprised and pleased to hear his diagnoses. There is nothing wrong with my husband.

He didn’t have a cough or chronic heartburn or episodes of vomiting. He didn’t have any pains in his arms or legs and hadn’t turned purple as he struggled to breath this morning. The doctor’s solution was so simple that I almost struggled to swallow it. He announced that Gordo’s pain was due to stress and only relaxation and profound sleep would resolve the problem. As they discussed it further I learned that my husband never feels fully rested and rarely even gets 4 hours of a deep uninterrupted sleep a night. I am a person that goes to sleep after my husband and require a solid 8 hours, so I was quite shocked by this development. As quickly as I concluded that this doctor was a genius by his diagnosis, he gave my husband 4 prescriptions. Four. Cuatro.

Wait a minute; I thought there wasn’t anything wrong him? Again, whatever. I was in no mood to argue and hoped I was just being the skeptic asshole that I am prone to be. We took his pink slip of paper straight to Farmacia Similares. Ketorolaco, Paracetamol, Ivel and Benedorm. That’s the trick. It’s now been 17 hours, 590 pesos and my first visit to a Mexican doctor since his original episode and we are both feeling much more at ease.

I am trying to ignore my assumptions of Mexican medicine and Gordo is eating bits of papaya as I type. It’s no surprise that I am not a health expert, but I remain a skeptic. I am drinking Padre Kino and plan on eating copious amounts of pork in the middle of the night, just before bed. No one would ever make an example of my current lifestyle, that’s for sure. Gordo fully intends on cutting back his sodium and fat (bacon) intake and I intend to never wake him up until he asks. Our first medical emergency in Mexico has passed, for now, and we are both still alive. Us 3, Universe 7. That’s right, we’re keeping score. Bring it.

Be The Change

The line was long this morning. It’s been long all week. It’s always long, I suppose, but this week has been a little ridiculous. This happens once in a while. The last time I remember it being like this was when U.S. troops killed Osama Bin Laden and CBP was making an attempt to tighten security in preparation for any possible backlash or terrorist attacks. I’m not sure what’s going on right now and I’ll probably never know.

With that being said, after being in line for over 2 hours, I wasn’t really excited to see that they had found some sort of contraband in a car a couple of places ahead of me. I have a feeling I would normally welcome this type of event because it was pretty interesting, but today I just wasn’t feeling it. It took another 30 minutes or so to tear the dude’s car apart and handcuff him and take him away. I kept myself busy watching Khloe & Lamar clips on the new E! app on my phone and soon enough I was next up to bat.

When I saw the CBP agent gesturing back to the stop sign I was parked behind, I knew he was one of the grumps. I could tell right away that he was giving the person a hard time because when they were next up to cross, they hadn’t stopped far enough behind that stop sign. I’ve gotten a talking-to about on multiple occasions. Oddly enough, it’s always in those 2 center lanes. Whatever. I could tell he was either in a bad mood, or just a jerk, so I decided before pulling forward that I would kill him with kindness.

I handed him my passport and said, “Good morning,” with a huge smile.

Anything to declare?

No sir.

What was the purpose of your visit to Mexico ma’am?

I live in Juarez.

How long have you lived in Juarez?

A year and a half.

Where are you going?

Work.

Do you like it better in Juarez?

Do I like it better? I don’t like living in Juarez better than living in the US, but I like living with my husband better than living without him.

How long have you been together?

7 years.

That’s a pretty good amount of time. It’s a shame though; you’ll never know what he’s really in it for. Everything can change once he gets that green card. You know how it goes. Everybody has a friend of a friend of a friend that got conned into a marriage for a green card. I really hope that doesn’t happen to you. Anyway, have a nice day.

…

Wow. The sarcasm in the "have a nice day," stung right there at the end.

It took me a second to realize that this man just basically said that my husband will most likely leave me once he can legally come back to the US. I was so shocked that I forgot about those stupid speed bumps in the two middle lanes and had already slammed into one before I had the burning desire to get the officer’s name and badge number. It was too late anyway; I was really late to work. Other fellow expats that cross the border regularly are always telling me their horror stories of disrespectful and overly invasive officers, but until today I had yet to feel offended. The idea that this man felt it was acceptable to say something like that to me blew my mind. It wasn’t long before the anger faded to pity, though, and by the time I got to work, I was pretty much over it.

While I feel really bad for people that make assumptions and think like this officer does, I see that I can’t blame them for their ignorance. I’m going to be honest here and tell you that I don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times someone I know from the immigration forums has been abandoned by their spouse right after his/her Visa was approved. It’s true. Those bad apples ruin it for the rest of us, and are the ones that cause people to develop a lot of the negative opinions they have about immigrants. This is beyond unfortunate though, because although I may have heard of one marriage scam too many, I have heard of hundreds more stories of thriving, multi-national marriages. Multi-national? I’m not sure if that is the right way to describe us, but it seems to fit the bill in my mind.

I did not file a complaint because I decided that it just wasn’t worth my time or energy. This is where I have a little inner-struggle going on. Whenever I “just walk away” from an ignorant person now, instead of trying to educate them, I feel like a bit of a failure. I feel like I am letting down my fellow expats and immigrants alike, and allowing these injustices to continue. At the same time, I know that it is pretty unlikely that my complaint would result in changing this officer's perspective, or make him more respectful towards border crossers. That’s where it gets complicated and even more so, disappointing. Trying to change the world or the way people see the world can be pretty tiring. I spent a good 5 years of my life signing petitions and going to protest rallies and Googling immigration cases for several hours every day, trying to find a loop hole in the law that would result in Raymundo being able to come home. No dice. It only seemed as though the more I fought for change, the more bitter and angry I became. I will never get back those 5 years of my life and I never want to go down that road again.

Maybe I’m the ignorant one for not taking a stand, or making a big uproar, but being angry exhausts me. I think today I finally decided that I am not going to be angry anymore. From now on, I’m going to take a different approach at trying to change the world.

The Big B

I had an incident this morning in the line. A car cut in front of me, where there really wasn't room to cut, and I almost hit it. Maybe I even tapped it. I didn't honk, didn't make any gestures and didn't really have the energy to do anything at all.

A light flicks on; she's applying her mascara. Then the driver doesn't advance as the line does, allowing people to cut in front of them as well. This happens from time to time. People fall asleep in line sometimes; others are distracted by reading the newspaper, eating their burritos, etc. With a normal person, a little beep of your horn will wake them up, or snap back to reality, and they will continue on, trying to pay more attention. So I lightly tap my horn. Nothing. A car cuts in front of her. Another, slightly longer, tap on the horn. Two more cars cut in front of her. A long, determined honk of the horn, accompanied by an exasperated facial expression. Another car cuts into our lane and she adjusts her rearview mirror so our eyes meet, and I swear she smiles.

She carries on like this until just past the top of the bridge. I don't even consider touching the horn because obviously that will just encourage her. As soon as I can, I do my best to get in a different line than her and by the time I am a couple cars away from the CBP checkpoint, we are right next to each other. She waves at me and laughs hysterically. Then she nudges her daughter in the front seat, seemingly encouraging her to join in on the laughter. I see a car seat in the back and shake my head in disappointment. Although I cross before her (KARMA) she is driving so fast she manages to get onto I-10 before me. She weaves in and out of traffic, faster than an ambulance, giving no regard to the other cars on the road. Not once does she use her turn signals.

I'm not surprised when I realize we both have the same destination. I was going where everyone who crosses from Mexico in the morning goes beforework/school. Walmart. What else is there to do at 6:00 am? I park my car, still a bit disturbed, trying to contemplate the motive behind this woman's madness. I give up quickly, knowing deep down that she just did it for shits and giggles, and get out of my car. That's when I realized the nut job has parked right next to me. Did she circle the parking lot while I looked for my space? I don't even hesitate and hurry into the store. I return my movie to Redbox, grab some frozen crap for lunch and linger at the new Skinny Girl make up section wishing I could call Bethenny Frankel and tell her that as much as I love her and her margaritas, the brand doesn't work for a cosmetic line. It's turning out to be a regular morning at Walmart until I reach the produce section and I catch the crazed woman's eye. She's now in the store with who I presume to be her daughter, 2 sons and baby, filling up a bag with potatoes.

As soon as she sees me, she says to her children, in Spanish, "There she is kids! Say hi!" She nudges her son, "Wave to her!" she demands, while laughing so hard you would have thought she just saw Wanda Sykes perform. I stand there in shock. Not knowing what to do or say, I just stand there for a split second, replaying the whole incident in my head. Setting aside everything that happened in the line, I can't believe there were FOUR children in that car... weaving through traffic well over the speed limit like they were auditioning for Fast6. Who does that? Who behaves this way in front of their children? And that's when I let it out...

"Aren't you embarrassed?" I say in Spanish, "Why would you do something like that to someone for no reason at all? I ignored the fact that you cut in front of me in the line, but why would you continue to act like that, just to upset me? Why would you teach your children to be mean to someone, and then point and laugh when you are done?" I don't know why I was hoping for a different reaction, but I was.

"You're the crazy one who honked her horn like 10 times. What are you teaching your children?" she said. Her daughter looked completely mortified, and her two sons were edging away slowly in embarrassment. I just walked away at this point, muttering, "Que verguenza," under my breath and trying to block out her laughter.

These are the people. You know, them. When you wonder how some children can be so disrespectful and so hurtful to others, think of this woman. When you wonder why bullying runs so rampant in schools that kids post their suicide notes on Youtube, think of this woman. It is parents like these that teach these children that it's fun to mess with people, just because. And no, they're not teaching their kids with their words, but by their actions. It's so beyond unfortunate, I don't even know how to react.

At least now I know what that big red, Old English, "B" bumper sticker stands for on the back of her car.

Cold Weather Solutions

When it's in the 30's inside your house and you run out of propane and you don't get paid until tomorrow:



We get pretty creative when we're cold...

(Disclaimer: To be used in conjunction with the rice sock, long underwear, scarf, hat, gloves and a carbon monoxide detector. Do not use if there are children in the house. Do not leave unattended. Turn off 30 minutes before going to bed.)

Bomberos de Ciudad Juarez: 656 612 73 95

Back At It

It's been so long since I have been on a routine of eating right and exercising. I guess those things just fell to way side in the midst of all the immigration drama. So I have set my goals and I am going to try to reach them this time around.

I tracked a route from my house to the end of the nearby park using trusty ol' Map My Run. Luckily, Mexico still comes up on their map. It is exactly 1 mile from my front door to the end of Parque Cuatro Siglos (right where the statues are with the people wearing butt flaps.) I set out tonight to what I thought would be a quick trip, briskly walking. To my surprise it took me 45 minutes to cover that 2 miles. Now I could make excuses that it was my dog's fault because everyone wants to stop to pet the pomeranian (not a lot of them in MX), but let's be real, I'm just really out of shape. I even tried picking it up to a jog 3 times but was only able to keep it up for about 20 seconds. It made me realize how far I have to go. In 2009, I could run 2 miles without stopping.

I really want to get back to that point and I think this park has the perfect set up. It has a jogging/biking path, there are plenty of people around so I feel safe, it's well lit, and it has interesting things to look at along the way. It's right along the actual border so you can kind of hear the Border Patrol helicopters over your music, but I think I can get used to that. I'm just going to add a little bit more jogging each time until I am back to running the whole thing.

I'm excited. Wish me luck.

Reflections and Resolutions

It was a big year for my family. Everything we had been working for and worried about in regards to moving to Mexico went off without any major hitches. We have been blessed with steady and fulfilling work here in Juarez and that was always the main source of our worries prior to making the move. This year we found an home in great condition that is reasonably priced. (Third times a charm!) We were both even able to go home to visit our respective families, albeit separately. Above all, we feel safe here in Juarez and that is also not something we were expecting.

Of course, the best thing that happened in 2011 was the friendships I have developed, both online and off. I may be far from my family and in a foreign country, but the people I work with, the women here in Juarez, and the support I receive from my blog, Facebook and I2US are... priceless. I cannot even begin to describe how thankful I am for my friends and the joy they bring to my life each and every day. There are no words to describe it really.

2011 was pretty amazing and I hope that 2012 continues that trend, but there are definitely changes I need to make this year. In 2010, as the date of our impending move to Juarez got closer, I began drinking heavily to curb my anxiety. Once we got here, I never quite kicked the vicio and I would like to put forth some serious effort to do so in 2012. I want to get back to a point where I am just drinking on special occasions, not every week. Although it hasn't caused the issues I normally hear about when it comes to excessive drinking, it's foolish, horrible for my body, and quite frankly, I can't afford it! Additionally I am going to try to make some healthy changes to my diet and exercise routines that I know will make me feel better all around. I am also going to try to read and write more this year, as well as learn to play an instrument. I know that getting creative juices flowing will help me in all aspects of my life.

I hope that everyone has had a chance to reflect on the past year and I want to wish you all a happy, safe and successful 2012.