Retiring in Mexico Prologue
As much as it hurt, in the end I had to leave my beautiful terrier mutt behind in China. It was unrealistic to try to take her with me when my first few months post-China would be as a vagabond. Not to mention that the paperwork for exporting/importing a dog must be begun far in advance of the travel. I began thinking about it in September, and that was not nearly enough time for a November flight. A neighbor in the same apartment complex took her, in the end, because of the 7-year old daughter. The mother is a doctor, an educated person. My Italian friend, Francisco, lives a few floors down with his Great Dane and assures me she is a responsible person, a good family. Farewell, my dear MeiMei.
Mother Goose (cat) is no doubt wandering the grounds of the complex, waiting for the sound of my jingling keys. When I traveled in late October for a week, she stayed outside. When I returned it was raining, but she was warm, dry and well fed. She has an incurable gum infection, which makes her cranky and uncomfortable. For that reason I could not burden another family with her care. She came to me a stray, and she returns to that life but hopefully in a better endowed neighborhood.
So much for my separation sorrow.
That is not to say that there aren't a few friendships that I am leaving behind with sadness. Former students, former employees, I forged bonds with some very dear people. This is the inevitable outcome for a gypsy such as I.
My retirement begins with blessings. My departure date was triggered by the expiration of my rental lease. It coincided with a meditation retreat in Mexico, led by an old acquaintance, Jhampa, from 40 years ago in India. This week of quiet reflection was a very good transition. After the weekend crowd left we were just a handful of people, including the retreat leader and his translator. We had plenty of opportunity to forge new bonds here in Mexico. Dr. Rudy decided to go out of his way and drive Jhampa and me to Guadalajara from Morelia, before returning to Durango. It doubled his journey, but he wanted that extra time with us. The three hour drive was lively and enjoyable.
I had asked the good doctor to do me a favor and take my heavy suitcase back to Durango with him. But when we arrived at the Guadalajara bus station we forgot, and hauled all the luggage out of the car.
From the Guadalajara bus station I took a taxi to Chapala Lake, where my American artist friend, Catherine, was living (temporarily). I saw first hand how well we North Americans can live on our meager government pensions. I was impressed, and relieved. Next to the village of Chapala where she rented a house, there is a village called Ajijic. It sits on a small bay of the lake, where the hills gently curve around. It is quite beautiful. It is overrun with retired foreigners. We spent a day there, and on that day I ran into Venerable Amy. This was another blessing.
Catherine has been retired for maybe five years now. She went to Thailand, but then returned to our continent. She lived in Oaxaca for three years, but then when her best friends were leaving she decided to leave too. She moved to San Miguel Allende. But after six months of that, she wanted to explore something else. She found this home in Chapala, but in the living of it she felt it was too quiet. In the end, she will go back to Oaxaca. I will get to visit her there in the Spring.
When I arrived in Chapala, I found that Catherine already had a house guest. Sofia is an artist, too, and they met in Miguel San Allende. This woman blew me away with her wit, her energy, her grace and her talent. She was on her way to Berlin, where she would have a showing of her art. Then to Paris, and Italy. She speculated that perhaps, as some had hinted, her art might find a more welcoming audience in Europe. She was prepared to continue her retirement there, somewhere in Europe. I was stunned at the answer when I finally got the courage to ask her age. She is 79! This should encourage me to pursue my writing career, in spite of my late start. Would that I could be half the woman she is.
Jhampa is the Tibetan name given to Joe at his ordination as a Tibetan Buddhist monk. We were in India at the same time, studying with the lamas. He had the good fortune to hold a Canadian passport, while mine was from the US. Such were the visa laws in those days, that Commonwealth countries had no visa requirements, but Americans were tightly controlled. He stayed many more years, but I left after three.
He had the idea to organize a retreat/retirement center for those of us of that generation, who had studied with the lamas either in India or in North America. High in the Sierra Madres, in apple orchard country, he formed a non-profit organization and secured a plot of land. He divided it into 20 lots, and put in the infrastructure of water, sewage and electricity. I heard about it in 2010 or 2011, and decided to begin to plan my retirement there. I had enough savings to pay for the property and have a shell erected. But then I opened the bakery, my personal Money Pit, which haled any further construction.
When I left China, my top priority was to see this property. I was dependent on Jhampa for making arrangements. After the retreat he was busy for a week or so, and could not spend the time with me that he wanted, to show me our nascent community. After a few days in Chapala, I headed out to Durango through Guadalajara. When I went online to see the bus schedule, I discovered that there were two routes. One was inland, through Mexico City, the other was by coast to Mazatlan, and then up the mountain to Durango. Why not? I was in no hurry.
I opened the AirBnB website, and scouted a place to stay in Mazatlan. I booked the room. I had an excellent experience, staying with that AirBnB host for a week, and so I got to see lovely Mazatlan, and swim in the warm Pacific.
Jhampa had arranged a hostess from among his Durango dharma center group, a place for me to stay until he was free to show me around our land in the countryside.
I met a few people from this group, during my prolonged stay in Durango. One evening Ven. Amy gave a lecture and meditation session, which gave me the opportunity to visit the center and meet other members.
Venerable Amy is an American nun having roots in our same 'sangha', or community of students of Buddhism. She is currently in Mexico scouting out a location for a home for a group of nuns. There was one location in Guadalajara, besides ours and another. Not surprisingly, she took a side trip to Chapala Lake, where we bumped into each other on the streets of Ajijic. I introduced myself, assuming who she was, and we agreed this was auspicious. I mean, seeing a caucasian dressed in the maroon robes of Tibetan Buddhism and a shaved head doesn't require a leap.
Our little community, called Luz de Compasion, is born of a noble idea. We baby boomers coming into retirement age, so many of us independently single, trend towards thinking of coming together in like-minded communities. I just read of one such noble idea come to realization in the UK, and we will all watch it closely over the years to see how it fairs. Not that we have that many years to sit idly by, to wait and see. I speak of the Older Women's Cohousing group, in High Barnet, UK. There, 26 woman begin taking possession of the newly built complex this month, December 2016, after 'planning ahead'. I wonder how many years it took to make this happen.
I haven't asked Jhampa recently, but when I made my purchase of two lots I recall that more than half the lots had been sold. Right now there are four buildings on the land, intermingled with corn fields and squash rows. Only one house is completely finished, and this Canadian has already put it up for sale. In the intervening years, waiting for others to decide to move onto the land, he found a better situation in Canada and will no longer be part of our group. Another house, nearly finished, belongs to Jhampa. He and his wife are currently living in Torreon, three hours from Durango in a desert valley. It is unlikely his wife is going to want to move. The other structure is completed on the ground floor, but a second floor is under construction. This person has actually used his house, coming for a four-month retreat. At the moment no one lives on the land, and so there is a caretaker, from the adjoining land, who watches over the houses in exchange for planting his corn and squash there.
This land is beyond a small village named Canatlan, which itself is a 40 minute drive from Durango city. From the paved highway which leads to Juarez, a dirt road runs about a mile through fields and woods to the property. During rainy season, it turns to mud. It is a rutted bumpy ride, at best.
So here I am, caught mid stride. Do I go forward, or do I go back? Do I try to put this unfinished house on the market, or do I try to finish it and use it. The caretaker has a beautiful black horse. I could strike a deal with him to provide grain for the winter feed, in exchange for the right to ride him to town when I need groceries and socialization. Straight out of a childhood dream.
In fact, many of the western cowboy films that fed those dreams were filmed right here, on this plateau. John Wayne himself bought a large plot of land, many acres, where films were shot. Right around Canatlan. His wife was Mexican, for those who didn't know.
Ven. Amy is spending a few nights on the property. She will decide at a future date whether or not this will be her choice for her future convent for Buddhist nuns. We are hoping she will share this property with us, to bring some life into it sooner rather than later.
I could finish the house very cheaply, or I could use quality materials that will reduce the dampness and better control the interior environment. At minimum, once I finish the house one way or the other I will stash my extra stuff there while I explore the rest of Mexico. You know, the winter clothes, the tankas (Buddhist iconography), photos etc. Jhampa estimates I could finish it and furnish it sparsely for between $10,00 and $15,000. I think if I were to do it up nicely, using sheet rock in the bedrooms, some laminated flooring as well as tiles, a well-equipped kitchen, a Franklin wood-burning stove, double paned windows, it would run me at least $25,000. Is it worth it?
These are the choices facing me, in the Spring. Right now I am heading to the States to enjoy the holidays with family, and then work on getting the Florida house ready for sale. The post-sale bank account will allow me to wander for a while, visiting friends in the States, and then exploring Mexico. My next post should be give details about the nitty gritty of retirement in Mexico, after I have done my explorations.
As much as it hurt, in the end I had to leave my beautiful terrier mutt behind in China. It was unrealistic to try to take her with me when my first few months post-China would be as a vagabond. Not to mention that the paperwork for exporting/importing a dog must be begun far in advance of the travel. I began thinking about it in September, and that was not nearly enough time for a November flight. A neighbor in the same apartment complex took her, in the end, because of the 7-year old daughter. The mother is a doctor, an educated person. My Italian friend, Francisco, lives a few floors down with his Great Dane and assures me she is a responsible person, a good family. Farewell, my dear MeiMei.
Mother Goose (cat) is no doubt wandering the grounds of the complex, waiting for the sound of my jingling keys. When I traveled in late October for a week, she stayed outside. When I returned it was raining, but she was warm, dry and well fed. She has an incurable gum infection, which makes her cranky and uncomfortable. For that reason I could not burden another family with her care. She came to me a stray, and she returns to that life but hopefully in a better endowed neighborhood.
So much for my separation sorrow.
That is not to say that there aren't a few friendships that I am leaving behind with sadness. Former students, former employees, I forged bonds with some very dear people. This is the inevitable outcome for a gypsy such as I.
My retirement begins with blessings. My departure date was triggered by the expiration of my rental lease. It coincided with a meditation retreat in Mexico, led by an old acquaintance, Jhampa, from 40 years ago in India. This week of quiet reflection was a very good transition. After the weekend crowd left we were just a handful of people, including the retreat leader and his translator. We had plenty of opportunity to forge new bonds here in Mexico. Dr. Rudy decided to go out of his way and drive Jhampa and me to Guadalajara from Morelia, before returning to Durango. It doubled his journey, but he wanted that extra time with us. The three hour drive was lively and enjoyable.
I had asked the good doctor to do me a favor and take my heavy suitcase back to Durango with him. But when we arrived at the Guadalajara bus station we forgot, and hauled all the luggage out of the car.
From the Guadalajara bus station I took a taxi to Chapala Lake, where my American artist friend, Catherine, was living (temporarily). I saw first hand how well we North Americans can live on our meager government pensions. I was impressed, and relieved. Next to the village of Chapala where she rented a house, there is a village called Ajijic. It sits on a small bay of the lake, where the hills gently curve around. It is quite beautiful. It is overrun with retired foreigners. We spent a day there, and on that day I ran into Venerable Amy. This was another blessing.
Catherine has been retired for maybe five years now. She went to Thailand, but then returned to our continent. She lived in Oaxaca for three years, but then when her best friends were leaving she decided to leave too. She moved to San Miguel Allende. But after six months of that, she wanted to explore something else. She found this home in Chapala, but in the living of it she felt it was too quiet. In the end, she will go back to Oaxaca. I will get to visit her there in the Spring.
When I arrived in Chapala, I found that Catherine already had a house guest. Sofia is an artist, too, and they met in Miguel San Allende. This woman blew me away with her wit, her energy, her grace and her talent. She was on her way to Berlin, where she would have a showing of her art. Then to Paris, and Italy. She speculated that perhaps, as some had hinted, her art might find a more welcoming audience in Europe. She was prepared to continue her retirement there, somewhere in Europe. I was stunned at the answer when I finally got the courage to ask her age. She is 79! This should encourage me to pursue my writing career, in spite of my late start. Would that I could be half the woman she is.
Jhampa is the Tibetan name given to Joe at his ordination as a Tibetan Buddhist monk. We were in India at the same time, studying with the lamas. He had the good fortune to hold a Canadian passport, while mine was from the US. Such were the visa laws in those days, that Commonwealth countries had no visa requirements, but Americans were tightly controlled. He stayed many more years, but I left after three.
He had the idea to organize a retreat/retirement center for those of us of that generation, who had studied with the lamas either in India or in North America. High in the Sierra Madres, in apple orchard country, he formed a non-profit organization and secured a plot of land. He divided it into 20 lots, and put in the infrastructure of water, sewage and electricity. I heard about it in 2010 or 2011, and decided to begin to plan my retirement there. I had enough savings to pay for the property and have a shell erected. But then I opened the bakery, my personal Money Pit, which haled any further construction.
When I left China, my top priority was to see this property. I was dependent on Jhampa for making arrangements. After the retreat he was busy for a week or so, and could not spend the time with me that he wanted, to show me our nascent community. After a few days in Chapala, I headed out to Durango through Guadalajara. When I went online to see the bus schedule, I discovered that there were two routes. One was inland, through Mexico City, the other was by coast to Mazatlan, and then up the mountain to Durango. Why not? I was in no hurry.
I opened the AirBnB website, and scouted a place to stay in Mazatlan. I booked the room. I had an excellent experience, staying with that AirBnB host for a week, and so I got to see lovely Mazatlan, and swim in the warm Pacific.
Jhampa had arranged a hostess from among his Durango dharma center group, a place for me to stay until he was free to show me around our land in the countryside.
I met a few people from this group, during my prolonged stay in Durango. One evening Ven. Amy gave a lecture and meditation session, which gave me the opportunity to visit the center and meet other members.
Venerable Amy is an American nun having roots in our same 'sangha', or community of students of Buddhism. She is currently in Mexico scouting out a location for a home for a group of nuns. There was one location in Guadalajara, besides ours and another. Not surprisingly, she took a side trip to Chapala Lake, where we bumped into each other on the streets of Ajijic. I introduced myself, assuming who she was, and we agreed this was auspicious. I mean, seeing a caucasian dressed in the maroon robes of Tibetan Buddhism and a shaved head doesn't require a leap.
Our little community, called Luz de Compasion, is born of a noble idea. We baby boomers coming into retirement age, so many of us independently single, trend towards thinking of coming together in like-minded communities. I just read of one such noble idea come to realization in the UK, and we will all watch it closely over the years to see how it fairs. Not that we have that many years to sit idly by, to wait and see. I speak of the Older Women's Cohousing group, in High Barnet, UK. There, 26 woman begin taking possession of the newly built complex this month, December 2016, after 'planning ahead'. I wonder how many years it took to make this happen.
I haven't asked Jhampa recently, but when I made my purchase of two lots I recall that more than half the lots had been sold. Right now there are four buildings on the land, intermingled with corn fields and squash rows. Only one house is completely finished, and this Canadian has already put it up for sale. In the intervening years, waiting for others to decide to move onto the land, he found a better situation in Canada and will no longer be part of our group. Another house, nearly finished, belongs to Jhampa. He and his wife are currently living in Torreon, three hours from Durango in a desert valley. It is unlikely his wife is going to want to move. The other structure is completed on the ground floor, but a second floor is under construction. This person has actually used his house, coming for a four-month retreat. At the moment no one lives on the land, and so there is a caretaker, from the adjoining land, who watches over the houses in exchange for planting his corn and squash there.
This land is beyond a small village named Canatlan, which itself is a 40 minute drive from Durango city. From the paved highway which leads to Juarez, a dirt road runs about a mile through fields and woods to the property. During rainy season, it turns to mud. It is a rutted bumpy ride, at best.
So here I am, caught mid stride. Do I go forward, or do I go back? Do I try to put this unfinished house on the market, or do I try to finish it and use it. The caretaker has a beautiful black horse. I could strike a deal with him to provide grain for the winter feed, in exchange for the right to ride him to town when I need groceries and socialization. Straight out of a childhood dream.
In fact, many of the western cowboy films that fed those dreams were filmed right here, on this plateau. John Wayne himself bought a large plot of land, many acres, where films were shot. Right around Canatlan. His wife was Mexican, for those who didn't know.
Ven. Amy is spending a few nights on the property. She will decide at a future date whether or not this will be her choice for her future convent for Buddhist nuns. We are hoping she will share this property with us, to bring some life into it sooner rather than later.
I could finish the house very cheaply, or I could use quality materials that will reduce the dampness and better control the interior environment. At minimum, once I finish the house one way or the other I will stash my extra stuff there while I explore the rest of Mexico. You know, the winter clothes, the tankas (Buddhist iconography), photos etc. Jhampa estimates I could finish it and furnish it sparsely for between $10,00 and $15,000. I think if I were to do it up nicely, using sheet rock in the bedrooms, some laminated flooring as well as tiles, a well-equipped kitchen, a Franklin wood-burning stove, double paned windows, it would run me at least $25,000. Is it worth it?
These are the choices facing me, in the Spring. Right now I am heading to the States to enjoy the holidays with family, and then work on getting the Florida house ready for sale. The post-sale bank account will allow me to wander for a while, visiting friends in the States, and then exploring Mexico. My next post should be give details about the nitty gritty of retirement in Mexico, after I have done my explorations.
