It’s been a while.
And this year has felt longer than most. It amazes me to look back at my pictures of Argentina and Brazil, realizing that it’s been almost a year since I first visited some of my favorite places in Latin America.
What I know now that I didn’t know then:
- I am truly “retired” from fulltime work, both by choice and by circumstance. When I left my last fulltime job I suspected that there would not be a revolving door back into tech work (either contract or fulltime), and I was correct. These days, I do a little bit of editing for articles published by the Ministry of Testing, an international software testing community. And I keep an eye on my IRAs. (Bond investing is a thing you can do at most brokerages. And travel stocks probably won’t stay in the basement forever.)
- Many of the people of the United States have NOT lost their moral compass or common sense to Facebook and Fox News, and sometimes the machinery of what we know as democracy works for the good. The weekend after the U.S. presidential election was the best I’ve felt about my home country in a long, long time. I know the work is not done but it’s nice to have a little hope now and then.
- I am most comfortable in my own company, for long stretches of time, punctuated by 12 step work over Zoom, brief chats with friends, and posting cat pics in online communities.
- Other autistic people often recognize me as one of them without any prompting from me. Apparently my hand gestures are one of the most important “tells.”
Mexico and me
Through a set of circumstances, I landed in Tijuana on July 20. I had a persistent lesion under my right eye that needed urgent attention, I did not have good health insurance in the U.S., and the United States, to which I’d returned briefly in June, felt profoundly unsafe in multiple ways. So I masked up, washed my hands, kept my distance, and made the trip.
I got my eye problem taken care of by a great (woman) ophthalmic surgeon, and I established permanent residency here too. This way I’ll be able to go to and fro across the border without much ado, especially once we have a vaccine for COVID.
I leave Baja California Norte on November 18 for San Miguel de Allende, a popular expat destination. I won’t be staying there permanently, though: locals have warned me against living in the center of the country. Those narcos you hear about are real. So the current plan is to move on to the Yucatan, which I’ve heard is much safer and quieter, in January.
I don’t like Baja Norte. It’s built for the convenience of car and truck drivers, it’s noisy and gritty, and the city of Ensenada in particular is full of mean dogs that bark aggressively at passersby. Sensory hell for an autist and unpleasant for everyone else. But there have been little respites: I’ve met some good people here (especially in Ensenada), the ocean is lovely for bodysurfing and snorkeling, and the burgers and seafood are damn good too.
Mexico, the economy, and the virus
Many Mexicans who live in Baja make frequent trips across the border, which is still very much open despite the virus. (U.S. folks do the same.) I met a Mexican Uber driver who told me he drives during the week, sleeps in his car while in the U.S. to save money, and returns to his family near Ensenada on the weekends.
The virus has hit hard here in Mexico, and like the U.S., neither the federal nor the state governments is testing with any kind of diligence. Despite Obrador, the current president, being nominally “left-wing,” there hasn’t been the kind of financial support to the citizens of Mexico that you would expect from a “socialist” government. The maquiladoras (factories) in border cities like Mexicali are hotspots for the virus to spread… but the people compelled to provide the cheap labor that fuels the Mexican and U.S. economies aren’t allowed to work from home.
Most people here wear masks on the street, and for the most part you have to have your temperature taken and accept some hand sanitizer before you can enter places like supermarkets. But many of the “controls” are voluntary, and some likely hotspots, like the tiny, crowded intracity buses (colectivos), continue to run. (I call them the “bad idea buses” and I walk most places or take Uber. In normal times I’d be taking those colectivos all over the place.)
Arizona, my love
Let the record reflect that southeast Arizona (including but not limited to Cochise County, right across the border from Chihuahua state in Mexico) is probably my favorite place on earth apart from Chile.
I hope to be able to return there frequently. Again, some people in Arizona have been great to get to know, and have been steadfast friends to me.
I had some learning to do in my time there:
- The western diamondback rattlesnake likes to hunt at dusk and frequently lies on trails as if dead. Its venom can be deadly to adult humans. I had two somewhat close calls, being a snake fan, and am a HELL of a lot more wary than I was in June when I arrived.
- If you take a rural exit in eastern California near the Mexican border and stop on a side road, especially when driving a shiny black rental car, the U.S. Border Patrol will become very interested in you. If you need a coffee, stop at any gas station you see that’s close to the highway.
- Said Border Patrol has been known to help Arizona ranchers with rambunctious longhorn cattle. (Sadly, I have no pics.) Wish all cops could do this kind of community service fulltime: many of them like to do it and are good at it.
- It gets cold in the high desert at night, and sometimes it snows.
- Yuma, in western Arizona right across from the California border, is a major nexus of history going back thousands of years. Worth a visit.
Onward
Moving eastward this coming week and I’m hoping to feature more about where I’m currently staying. Being able to move about without 10 dogs barking at me along the way will help.
