EL GAS Y EL AGUA

For those of you anxious to compare the cost of utilities with your own (and I know you are legion), here are our gas and water bills.

We have a gas hot water heater--we turn it up only when we need hot water for bathing--and a gas stove. The bill is the equivalent of $29. Water is $12. A month. We have no sewer or garbage bills. That leaves electricity (don't know yet; it comes every two months) and computer hookup ($10). We also spend about $10 a week to get our clothes washed, since we are doing without a washing machine (for now). A lot cheaper than our bills in our last abode, where our heating bill would be about $300 per month right now and the water/sewer/garbage collection bill was always about $75.

The bottle holding the bills down is our third different kind of cold medication, recommended by Alma in the bread store.

H1N1

Free vaccinations against H1N1 were available in the Plaza de Armas today. We passed by and thought, what the heck, we couldn't feel much worse than we already do. So I got my first flu shot ever and el sr J got his second.

MEDICINA, PARTE II Y LA TARJETA DE LOS TERCER EDADISTAS

I may have given the false impression several posts back, when we sailed merrily through the "CURP" process, that we were entitled to all the benefits of old age in Mexico. Not so. The next step was to make an appointment with INAPAM (don't ask, I have no idea) and bring originals, plus one copy of our passports, FM2s, birth certificates, CURP cards, and rental contract. The INAPAM card will get us senior discounts. It's a little like an AARP card in the US, but better: it's free, it's issued by a government agency, it provides discounted rates on buses and free admission to cultural heritage sites, among other benefits, and it does not expire until you do.

Our appointment was for today at 1:30. The office is located in the SEDESOL building, which is out by the soccer stadium, which is near the bus terminal, which is not a convenient or walkable location. Once again I forgot to bring names of references; once again we were asked for them. Poor Shelley. In case of accident, she'll get called. Just pretend you don't know what they're talking about, Shelley. At the end of the process, the young man behind the desk took our pictures for our new INAPAM cards (we may have to get special cases to carry all the cards we're getting).

When I saw how puffy my face looked, not to mention the wads of snotty tissues in my bag, I decided the previous medication was not working. So we went to the Farmacia francesa (francesa because 80 years ago there was a French laboratory there, I was told) and asked for something other than what we had. This is what we got. It's German and expensive. Hope it works.

One more bureaucratic process: to go to the nearest hospital with the same documents, more or less, and apply for (nearly) free health care, known as ISSSTE. Another acronym, another card.

LA FARMACIA

Los Jubilados have been enfermos for the last two weeks. I went to the farmacia to get something for la tos. Here's the cough medicine I bought from the pharmacist:

I went home and read the box to find out how much to take. See what it says? Dosage: what the doctor says. Farther down: you need a doctor's prescription to buy it. But I didn't!!!!!!

I've bought (USA) prescription medicine in Mexico and other countries before, but I never saw this kind of labeling. If you don't need a prescription to buy it in Mexico, why is the box labelled this way?

Luckily, I could Google Oxolbrul and find the dosage. For your information, it doesn't work very well. At least not on us. Kaff, kaff.

LA CENA DE NAVIDAD

3 lessons learned from Christmas dinner:

#1 Not to buy meat from Costco

#2 We need measuring utensils. I can make pie crust without measuring the flour, but cream filling (sugar, milk, cornstarch) is a different story. We've looked in all the likely places for measuring cups and spoons, but haven't found them yet.

#3 Crema does not whip up like whipping cream. I read somewhere that it did, but this is not the case.

The turkey breast from Costco went into the basura, but we're working with the strawberry cream pie. I'll spare you a photo.

On a tastier note, our butcher at market gave us this calendar, which is very helpful in terms of meat terminology:

How do you think "T-Bone" is pronounced?

DOS ARBOLES DE NAVIDAD GRANDES Y UNO MUY CHICO

SEASON'S GREETINGS TO FAMILY AND FRIENDS

LA NAVIDAD, PARTE 2

Various Biblical and secular scenes are portrayed in el Jardín Zenea.

Mary, Joseph, Jesus in the manger.

daytime

night

The Wise Men bringing gifts.

Creation.

Hell is by far the most interesting. How many devils are there in Hell?

Musicians on the way to Hell.

Daytime Hell.

Hell at night.

Even a devil needs to get some rest. Or is that a tanning bed?

LA NAVIDAD, PARTE 1

You knew it had to come, didn't you.

For many years the Jubilados lived in the country, with no neighbors in sight. At Christmas they cut down a tree in the woods and hung it with homemade ornaments on Christmas Eve. The smell of clove-spiked oranges and apples wafted from the wood stove.

When they moved to a small town 12 years ago, they were astounded to see the blow-up Santas and Frosties, the lit-up dancing twig deer, the icicles hanging from porches; to hear country carols blasting from loudspeakers in town; to smell the crystal meth wafting from certain establishments. Oops, I went a little too far there. All this started before Thanksgiving and didn't disappear until well nigh Easter. The Js took to pretending they were judíos or musulmanes in their unlit-up house on the corner.

Christmas in Querétaro is a big deal too, but in a different way. Most of the decorations in the Centro histórico are in public places, and crowds gather from all over to wander through the plazas and parques and jardines and andadores, soaking up the spirit.

Below is a (partial) view of the Plaza de Armas, a block away from our house.

At night. It is a clean, well-lighted place.

The tree inside the Palacio de Gobierno, which is at one end of the Plaza.

The creche underneath the tree in the Palacio, which would draw howls of protest from the ACLU (we're members) if it were done in the US.

Coming up, the Jardín Zenea.

UNAS COSAS DE METAL

I learned the word "garrafón" when I was reading our rental contract and noticed that we were responsible for two of them. "What's a garrafón?" I asked the dueña (in Spanish). Here is one, a 20-liter plastic water container. (That it was in our contract gives you an insight into the dueña's character.) Note the label, Ciel, a Coca-cola product.

Because a 20-liter bottle is somewhat unwieldy, we went in search of a holding device, called, of course, a "portagarrafón." We looked high and low for one because we wanted something el sr J wouldn't have to turn the bottle upside down on. Finally we found a little shop on calle Juarez that sold only industrial-looking metal objects mostly used for store displays. See how it tips over easily?

El sr J was not happy with buying Ciel, a Coca-Cola product, so, one day when we were on our way to the gym, we spotted a van delivering this kind of water:

We are now getting one bottle of Junghanns water delivered on Monday mornings. El sr J está contento, but I figure we're now drinking fascist water instead of capitalist/imperialist water. El sr J prefers to think that the name refers to Trotskyite political refugees from Nazi Germany.

Since we've been going to Costco, we've accumulated some rather large supplies of various comestibles. We were running short on storage space, and we thought again of our metal man on Juarez St. El sr J got his metro (measuring tape) and off we went. We found just the right-sized shelves. We bought the shelves, the uprights, and nuts and bolts, and el sr J put it all together.

The 8 kilos of sugar on the bottom shelf are for the two hummingbirds.

DE VUELTA A MCDONALD'S

Remember when I posted about this McDonald's when it was under construction on the andador near our house? Well, it's finished now, and would you believe that they only serve postres? No hamburguesas? No arcos dorados? Have you ever heard of such a thing?

This is all there is. A hole in the wall.

It sells cold treats and therefore does not compete with the nearby eateries or generate trash in the form of styrofoam or paper containers that might litter the andador. But it does compete with the local sweets store next door, much to the chagrin of the manager there. While we are not happy about this incursion, we are pleased that it has such a low profile. Now if nobody buys anything, maybe it will go away. Unfortunately, as the photo above shows, people are buying things. Must be the irresistible appeal of US consumer culture.

PARA NUESTRA NUERA IRLANDESA, Y. . . .

el hermano del sr J y su esposa who have just visited Ireland. We couldn't resist visiting this Irish pub since we have so many aficionados of Eire in the family. Yes, the facade is verde, which is what caught our eye when passing it in the taxi. It's just a couple of blocks from our house.

So we walked there for la hora de alegría yesterday.

Here's The Irish flag and a bar's eye view to the street.

I asked the bartender if he was Irish and he said, "No, puro mexicano, azteca."

Nor is the owner Irish, he's Argentine. That partly obscured banner on the upper left is for Estudiantes, an Argentine soccer team.

And yet the green theme abounds. The fireplace could have been brought over from the Ould Sod. We didn't ask if they burned peat. Potatoes were on the menu.

El sr J asked for Irish whiskey, thinking they would have a wide selection. They only had Jameson's. On the other hand, he was impressed with the huge variety of cerveza, although the bulk of it was German and Belgian (not necessarily a bad thing). He was pleased to discover that there is an excellent Mexican microbrew that tastes like Dogfish Head. Here's a view of the cooler:

A very large array, as they would say in Greenbank, WV.

LOS COCHES Y LAS COCHERAS

You've seen the narrow sidewalks. What about the narrow streets? Most of the streets in the Centro histórico are narrow and one way. Many don't allow parking. So what do you do with your coche(s)?

You park them inside your house and put a "no parking" sign on the door of your cochera. Some signs say "please don't," others threaten to deflate your tires if you park in front. Now imagine you have to take your coche out of your cochera. You unlock and open the door of the cochera. You wait for a break in traffic. You back out and then you have to get out of your coche, blocking traffic while you lock up your cochera. (Not many houses have automatic garage door openers). Los Jubilados count the times every day that they're happy not to have a coche. We are also looking for a house without a cochera.

Although we did look at this cochera-burdened house that's for sale.

And we are about to look at this one.

LAS CRUCES

In Querétaro, not New Mexico.

Crosses are a lofty feature of the architecture of many buildings, both private and public. The crosses vary in style, placement, and material. Here are a few.

Below is a response found on many windows to door-to-door proselytizers such as Mormon missionaries.

By the way, the Mexican Constitution guarantees the separation of Church and State. Probably as many Mexicans are aware of this as estadounidenses are aware of the same guarantee in their Constitution, or of the absence of any reference to a divinity.

COREOGRAFIA DE CAMINAR EN LAS CALLES

This was the sidewalk we took on the route to Migración. See how narrow it is? See that bus coming? What if someone was walking the other way on the same side? Who yields? Is there such a thing as right of way on the sidewalk? What is the protocol for walking on narrow sidewalks on busy streets? Or on any kind of sidewalks on any streets, for that matter.

There is a tope (speed bump) here on the street, so the bus must slow down, but still. . . .

Since moving here, I've been considering the dynamics of the politesse of pedestrians. At first I thought that one should always keep to the right (like with driving). But this thought soon came in conflict with the behavior of the locals, who seemed to know instinctively how to pass on narrow sidewalks, and it wasn't according to the rules of driving. It involved a last-minute, subtle movement, a dip of the shoulder that allowed the oncoming pedestrian to pass untouched. It could be a right-hand or left-hand pass.

I had a need to establish the "right" position at a certain distance from the walkers heading for me. I could not hold MY position until the last moment, like people who live here and are used to dipping left or right at the very last moment. So now I try to figure out what side they want and move myself accordingly. Walking and watching and planning. While at the same time looking out for holes in the sidewalk and the occasional doggie doo. I don't think el sr J has this same problem, but I'll let him speak for himself.

So here are some of the things I think about as people are coming toward me.

1) Are they older than I am?

2) Are they carrying a heavy load?

3) Do they have children with them?

4) Are they blind or walking with a cane, or do they have some other kind of infirmity?

5) Are they teenagers in a pack?

6) Are they men dressed in a black/blue shiny suit?

7) Are they grossly overweight?

8) Are they boyfriend/girlfriend unwilling to separate for a damn second to let me pass?

9) Etc.

It's a lot to think about in the short time: I may have to step into the street and risk being run over by a bus, or paste myself up against a wall, or wait behind a tree or utility pole until they pass.

Below is a sidewalk we use almost every day, sometimes more than once. The building on the right is a state government building and every day men in black/blue shiny suits hang outside smoking and blocking the way. Sometimes, as in the photo below, they block the sidewalk with open car doors. 5 puntos for correctly guessing what I say to them to get them to move aside so I can pass. No, no bad words. I'm polite. Hint: 2 words, 4 syllables.

¡NO ME DIGAS!

It can't happen here,

It can't happen here,

I'm telling you, my dear,

That it can't happen here

--Frank Zappa

But it is happening here.

Where is José Bové when you need him?

LA LIMPIEZA Y LA BASURA

Here are 2 of the garbage receptacles on our andador. There are 2 more pairs on the same block. You can see the design flaw. Or the wisdom in the design, depending on your point of view. It's hard to fit even a small bag of garbage in them. But we deposit our small bags frequently and manage. Maybe that's the intent: small and frequent.

The people who empty the receptacles--women, mostly--patrol the historic center of town day and night, wearing orange outfits, pushing orange carts and wielding brooms made with real broom straw. They empty the receptacles as frequently as we and our neighbors fill them up, and they also pick up litter in the streets and on the sidewalks and plazas.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are recycling days. We stack our containers of bottles, plastic, metal and cardboard outside the receptacles in the evening. Next morning they are magically gone.

Here are two pictures of the women at work, day and night.

Our andador is also hosed down frequently (weekly, it seems) by the city. The result is a city center that, for all its hustle, bustle, outdoor events, and pedestrian traffic, is remarkably clean.