Boomer Away

Camelot, a magical place

Sometimes, when you are really lucky, you are unexpectedly dropped into paradise. The city of Ajijic and its sister city, Lake Chapala were not on our agenda for this trip. We planned to either bypass Guadalajara or stay in it briefly, on our way from the central highlands of Mexico to the coast at Puerto Vallarta. Our readings had shown that nearby Ajijic was a popular retirement site for Americans, and I was all for turning up my nose at anything that was Popular with Americans. But my options for home stays in Guad and nearby Tequila didn’t pan out, and there was an alluring rental on AirBNB in Ajijic: an upscale hacienda with a large pool and decks overlooking the lake and mountains, and handmade breakfasts included. It seemed a breath of fresh air after weeks spent in populous areas.

Ajijic (ah-hee-heek) reportedly has a fine climate all year, with no need for air conditioning or heat. Our host Alison told us that the rain generally stops around sunrise, reminding us both of the old song “Camelot”:

But in Camelot, Camelot
That’s how conditions are.
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.

There are small nursing homes here where people with dementia can live for less than $1,300 a month. It’s a pleasant option in a pleasant city, vs. paying $70K per year in the US.

On our first full day Alison took us to the weekly organic market. Here we started to see the amount of gringos living here, enjoying the great weather and economical living. I felt my spirits rise, just like they do whenever I go to the farmers’ market in Waukesha. The food was a feast for the eyes, and we bought a little for the tastebuds too.

Ajijic organic market day, making cold chocolate drinks with a molinillo

I really enjoyed chatting with the cacao vendor. Back home I volunteer at the Milwaukee Public Museum, where I explain the history and biology of cacao/chocolate, but this was my first time to actually use the wooden molinillo to froth up the chocolate drink, and grind the cacao beans on the stone metate. The iced cocoa drink was extra-delicious, and I vow to start making it at home. This recipe might do the trick, without starting from scratch.

Tasty empanadas made a light lunch, 18 pesos ($1)

Pull-apart fruit, sweet nuggets given as samples

On the next day we went to the more-traditional weekly street market, where natives and gringos alike shopped for the week’s pick of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat. Coconut juice is a popular item, with a truckload to be consumed on this market day.

We went for a walk through town and down to Lake Chapala. We were excited to see a wintering site of the American White Pelican, which breeds back home in Oshkosh and Fond du Lac (and upwards into Canada as well.)

Ajijic from Lake Chapala to the Sierra Madre mountains

A walk through the city provided so many visual delights. Instead of the pervasive graffiti we see elsewhere, we found many beautiful wall murals and works of art.

The top of this building has what some call a “baby bottle” tower, a common feature in this area.

In Mexico most of the sidewalks are narrow and the walls of the houses go right up to the sidewalk; there are no lawns. The homes are hidden behind these walls, and what might they contain? Lavish digs, or simple concrete bunkers? Our host wrote 2 books showing some of the glorious homes that are hidden behind these walls. You’ll find a sample here. It seems there is ample work here for gifted architects and interior designers.

Elizabeth Taylor used to hang out here on the lakefront

We went to the Peacock Garden restaurant for early dinner, and my salmon dijon sandwich was complemented by the lovely scenery. A couple at the nearby table shared with us that they have rented a home in downtown for $500 per month, and the furnishings were easily affordable. The Lake Chapala Society is right nearby, offering social opportunities and chances to volunteer and enrich the local society as well. They also offer an English language lending library, which can be a bonus for book lovers.

A couple of nights we walked to the the Fast and Good Tapas Restaurant, a little streetside place. Each tapas or small glass of wine cost 20 pesos, about $1.10. The waiter was also the chef, and he was indeed fast, and the food was really good. On another day we went to the Sunrise restaurant for rib dinners at 90 pesos, about $5. Despite the upscale city locale you can still eat inexpensively.

Every night we enjoyed the sunset over the Sierra Madre mountains. It’s an alluring place, and deserves consideration as a snowbird retirement spot.

New life: birth on the beach

Today is a blustery day on the ocean, with high waves and intermittent rains. Here in Puerto Vallarta we often see very large, majestic frigate birds flying over the coast. They are opportunistic eaters, and this morning Matt saw one attack a smaller bird, force the bird to disgorge the fish it had just scooped up, and then the frigate bird took the fish and flew off. Frigate birds have their own frailties: if they fall into the sea they can’t take off, and will likely die there. (Our local divemaster saved one recently; click on the link to see the Facebook post by Banderas Scuba on Dec. 19 2015.) This afternoon we noticed an exceptional number of these birds circling our beach, 7 or more, coasting into the wind like it was easy, and they were not veering away from our area. We walked down to watch them, and a man told us the frigates were here for the turtles.

Turtles?

Yes, he said and gestured down the beach about 20 yards. There we found a group of hotel employees clustered around a hole in the sand. One man was armpit deep into a sand hole, and pulling out some things.

As we walked up we saw him pull out and discard a misshapen lump, which as it turned out, was a dead turtle egg. Someone had seen a live turtle emerge from the sand, and the staff came out to save them. Now the last 2 of the turtles were being deposited into a bucket. It seems that the frigate birds had also seen the baby emerge, and they were waiting to take advantage of the free meal.

In the bucket were 81 newly hatched loggerhead turtles, vigorously flopping around and trying to figure out how to get to the sea. One was pronounced dead, and we all sighed a bit as he was set aside; but then he rallied to show a little movement, and soon it was full on hey-I’m-not-dead-yet, so he went in the bucket with the others. They were all covered in the fine sand that they were born in, not yet washed clean by the ocean.

81 baby turtles — 81 baby loggerhead turtles

The staff had called for local officials to take the turtles away, so they could be protected and set free. No frigate birds were fed today.

Only 10 of us got to see this, so we felt really fortunate to be a part of this birthing ceremony. Live long and prosper, little ones!

Dinner time, hilarity ensues…

Eating in Mexico is so easy. Just walk down any street and you will find foods of all descriptions and nationalities. On Sunday, we walked all of two minutes from our hotel to the mercado (outdoor market). There we found an area with tables and benches, with cooks in chef’s jackets waiting to serve their Sunday Special, Super order of Chicken. As my Spanish is limited (Si, No, Gracias, blinking or vacant stares for anything else), Deb asked about the Special, and enquired about the price. The chef stated the price (noventa y cinco or 95 pesos) and Deb relayed it to me as sentena y cinco or 75 pesos. The chef immediately said “95” in English. With the price now verified, we ordered the dish, along with a couple of beers.

This is a big platter. Enchiladas with a potato stuffing on the left, fried potatoes on the right, chicken leg and wing in the middle, and cole slaw in the front. Also, at the top, a large pickled jalapeno pepper. Now, notice the yellow peppers. They were on top of the slaw and I moved them to their current position. This is a safety measure you need to adopt if you travel to Mexico. You never know what you’re getting in the way of heat.

I thought about eating healthy, so I tried the slaw first. Pretty spicy for just cabbage with a light dressing. I told Deb about the heat in the slaw, so she could avoid the heat. We continued trying various parts of the dish when it happened.

I looked at Deb and I realized she seems to be panting. She looked like she was in labor. Then I noticed she is growing red in the face. I mean really red. Her eyes start watering. I was about to ask her if she tried the slaw when she points to the yellow pepper rings. Remember those? The peppers that were on top of the slaw? She tried a pepper ring, thinking it was like a bell pepper. Wrong.

20160218_112405 — Pepper from Catalina’s pepper tree.

Notice the above. This is a pepper from a garden of one of our Couchsurfing friends. When I say pepper tree, I meant it. This plant was over six feet tall. Our Couchsurfing friend pronounced these as “muy caliente” or very hot. This is what was on top of the slaw. Deb is still gasping and sweating (not “glowing”). I try to help. I eat a pepper ring in sympathy. And it’s really hot. Drink some beer, I offer. Eat some more food to counter the inferno. Don’t blame me, I hope. All you can do is wait it out. And we learned a lesson: Let Matt try it first.

This morning’s breakfast

This morning we woke up to a dwindling assortment of food that we’ve acquired in the mercado. We’re using up some of the leftovers while I stretch and get ready for the new day.

In the market I asked a vendor what these were, and she promptly broke one open with her thumbnail and pushed it into my hands. It’s a granada china, she said, and she made motions to say: you reach in and grab the entire seed packet, scoop it out and chew it up. The seeds come out in one gooey stuck-together glob. I didn’t want to be rude, even though it felt gross and looked kind of disgusting, so I reluctantly plopped it in my mouth. To my surprise it was lightly sweet and the texture of the seeds was slightly crispy. I gave her 10 pesos (55 cents) and she gave me a bag of 9 pieces of fruit. Granada china translates to Chinese pomegranate, but the resemblance is minimal. After some further digging on the Internet I find that it is a variant of the passion fruit, the product of a passion flower vine. It has antioxidants and sedative properties, and it provides vitamins A, B2, B3, B6, B9, C, E and K; and minerals such as calcium, copper, iron, magnesium, phosphorus, potassium, selenium, sodium and Zinc.

Next we have lima beans. I hate lima beans, one of the few vegetables I really can’t want. But here they are roasted and salted with a touch of lime flavor, and they are a delightful snack.

Our new friend Jennifer from Morelia told us that people can take classes here on how to make decorative flower jello molds. I couldn’t picture this, but then we found them in the streetside market along the secondary plaza here in Patzcuaro. They are beautiful, and completely made of gelatin, no hidden plastic components. It’s created upside down in a disposable plastic cup, so the artist must have quite a job to make one. I bought one for 13 pesos (75 cents) and the seller helped me take some photos of her wares.

Gelatin flower, scooped out so you can see the insides

Lastly, there are the mandarin oranges and “regular” oranges which are sold from the back of a pickup truck a few doors down from our hotel.

Oranges cost 20 pesos ($1.10) for 5 kilos (11 pounds.) Mandarin oranges are 15 pesos (75 cents) for 2 kilos (4.4 pounds.)

Monarchs on the mountaintops

The monarch butterflies from north central USA and Canada migrate to Michoacan state in central Mexico to spend the winter on top of remote, almost inaccessible mountaintops, living in hibernation, clumped in tall oyamel fir trees. If you are in my age group and you didn’t know this, it’s not because your teachers were negligent. It’s because this wasn’t known to the wide world until 1976. For more information, check out the discovery story and monarch migration discovery.

Back home in Wisconsin Matt has devoted himself to the preservation of monarch lives. He guards milkweed in the wild. And from the plants he harvests the butterfly eggs, no bigger than a sesame seed, then takes them home to foster them, about 150 per year. In the wild only 1 in 10 will survive to adulthood, so this is the equivalent of 1,500 wild eggs. All summer long, from the butterflies’ first arrival in Wisconsin around June 1 until the last babies fly away in October, Matt is collecting and washing milkweed leaves (food) and caring for his brood. He raises them in 3 foot tall net tents in the kitchen.

Caterpillar in J, ready to become a chrysalis

Monarch chrysalis; note the markings that look like real gold

After each monarch hatches he protects it for 8 hours until its wings are strong and dry, and then he logs the date and sex of the baby, and sets it free.

A banner day for butterfly hatching, 2010

Generations 1, 2 and 3 are born and live out their lives in the US and Canada. Generation 4 is the Methuselah generation. These late-fall babies rise up a mile into the atmosphere and migrate to Mexico, where they will hibernate until spring, mate, and THEN fly back to Texas. On autumn evenings you will find Matt on our deck, pointing southward, and telling them to FLY! (If the neighbors think this is odd, they have not said so.)

Once there in Michoacan the butterflies huddle in heavy masses on the Oyamel fir trees, so many monarchs that they bend the branches toward the ground. Incredible! How many are there, in a pound of butterflies?

Last year Deb got the chance to go see the butterflies in Michoacan, Mexico at the Sierra Chincua site. It was January, and the monarchs were mostly hibernating in the chilly overcast winter air. It was beautiful, but this year’s trip was much more exciting. On Valentine’s Day the butterflies were awakening, and love was in the air. Now they will breed, the males will die here, and some of the females have already started their long trek to Texas. All of this is jump-started by the warming air and sunshine, and the newly flowering bushes with nectar for the journey.

We set out at 4 AM on February 14th to catch a tour bus from Queretaro to Piedra Herrada in Michoacan, near Angangueo. It’s a 3 hour trip over unfamiliar mountainous terrain, so a tour bus is the best bet for most visitors. We were joined by our host Grace, and another US expat, young Eric. Our bus was among the first arrivals in the cool mountain air around 7:30 AM, and the local women were just opening their simple wood kitchen huts and stoking fires to start cooking breakfasts. We sat on folding chairs under a propped-up tarp and fueled up on strong traditional olla coffee (sweetened and flavored with cinnamon, usually served in an earthenware mug), and handmade blue corn tortillas filled with mild white cheese and stewed mushrooms and chicharron (pig skin.) The hot sauce was homemade and dangerously spicy. We were nicely warmed by the food and drink.

Afterwards Matt and Deb elected to mount up on horseback and ride most of the way up the mountain. Grace and Eric decided to walk all the way up. More visitors were arriving and the path up the mountain was filling up. The bus driver had given us each a blue disposable face mask, and now its need was apparent; the path was full of fine loose dust, and the horses and people were on the same path together, kicking up the silt and creating a significant cloud. Up on the horse the dust was bearable, but many of the walkers were holding their hands or scarves over their faces. I was very glad to have the horse, especially since the climb is steep and rocky, and remember you still need energy to climb down at the end.

After 50 minutes of riding the guides had us dismount about 15 minutes from the top and we proceeded on foot, climbing slowly at 10,500 feet of altitude, careful of rocks and ankle-turners at every step. Now it was about 10:30 AM and the air was warm and sunlit. We had seen butterflies soaring around us in twos and threes, but here there was an incredible sight: more butterflies than you could count, more than your mind could comprehend. We were kept behind a yellow tape line and cautioned to stay quiet and not disturb the scene, so I found myself laughing giddily in wonderment, but without sound. A silent dance of joy inside and out. I wiped tears of happiness out of the corners of my eyes. Strangers of all ages and many nations made eye contact and nodded at each other: yes I see it, you see it too, can you believe this? all without saying a word. And yet there was more: more hanging in huge clusters on the trees, more around the corner, more down the bend a ways. My mind reeled.

At first you only see clumps high in the trees

My brief video: Monarch butterflies in Michoacan

At a distance they look like dead leaves

Deb and Matt, at the summit of the viewing area

Monarchs just out of hibernation, feeding on new flowers

After the allotted time of 20-30 minutes we reluctantly headed down to the foot of the mountain. This was number one on our Places to See list, and it was everything we had hoped for. Afterwards I sat on a log far away from the people and just contemplated the beauty of this place. It will stay with me.