A VISIT TO BOSTON

July 24 – 25, 2021

Shortly after returning from Southern California, I flew to Boston to keep my appointment with the Mexican Consulate. I arrived late on a Saturday night and checked into the Moxy where I had missed dinner and found the bar too packed for my comfort during the time of Covid. I went straight to my room.

I had never been to Boston, so took the opportunity to see some of the city and visit my college roommate. Unexpectedly, she was between jobs so had lots of time to show me the sights. I met Deb at 9:00 and we spent Sunday walking around Boston. We walked through the Boston Commons and enjoyed the elaborate plantings. It rains a lot in Boston and everything was lush and green. Flowers were planted everywhere. We enjoyed a delicious brunch at the Salty Pig, a restaurant that specializes in charcuterie, although I was chilled and ordered a warm pasta dish. A rain shower foiled our plan to eat outside, but the restaurant was not crowded. People were mostly hiding from the rain.

It stopped raining after lunch and we visited the Holocaust Memorial, which consisted of several glass towers, one for each concentration camp. The numbers of all the victims of each camp were etched into the glass and steam rose from vents in the pavement to evoke the smoke rising from the crematoriums. It was a moving display. We walked several miles and explored the harbor before returning to the hotel in time for me to get dinner.

The Moxy charged a resort fee which gave me a certain amount of credit to spend in the bar and restaurant. Not being a big drinker, the only way I could use my credit was to eat dinner at the hotel. The only option was naan served with various pizza toppings. I had mine with basil, tomato and mozarella. I spent the evening composing a blog post to bring my readers up to date on the events of the past year.

July 26. 2021

Deb and I had plans to go to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in the afternoon, but I had the morning to myself. I ate breakfast at the Panera across from the hotel and then walked to the Mexican Consulate so that I would be sure to find it on the morning of my appointment. Then I attempted to walk along the riverfront, which was frustrating as sections of it were inaccessible due to industry or governmental facilities that were not open to the public.

After lunch, I met Deb and we took the train to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The museum was in the former home of the donor who had amassed a large collection of art. The collection was varied and ranged from medieval tapestries and Russian icons to paintings by artists that she had patronized. The building was lovely, although not really designed to be a museum, which resulted in various dead ends and the retracing of steps.

After returning to my hotel, we stopped for a cocktail in the bar of the hotel across the street, a much more elegant and spacious affair than the bar at the Moxy. Once again, I had naan for dinner, this time I had S’mores naan. The cook was new and it took over an hour to make my dinner. As there was nowhere comfortable to wait, I grew annoyed. The Moxy was centrally located near Deb’s apartment and the Mexican Consulate, but it was not to my liking. It was clearly designed for younger guests. I found it noisy and crowded. The rooms were small, but comfortable enough, although I would have appreciated a bathtub.

July 27, 2021

The twenty-seventh was the day of my appointment with the Mexican Consulate. I had breakfast at Panera and then walked over to the Consulate. It was much smaller than the ones in California and nearly empty. I waited only a few minutes before being called. I presented the man behind the counter with my bank statements and chatted in Spanish with the entire staff while he reviewed my documents and made copies. As my brokerage has the annoying policy of issuing quarterly statements every third month, it always confuses those who want to see a year’s worth of monthly statements. Still, we managed to assemble the necessary documentation and I was approved.

In Sacramento, a clerk reviewed my documents and, when it was determined that I qualified, I was told to come back after lunch for an interview with the Consul. In Boston, they fingerprinted and photographed me (I didn’t have to provide a passport photo as I had in the past.) and then told me to wait. Apparently, the gentleman I had been chatting with was the Consul and our banter served as my interview. I was out of there with my visa in under 45 minutes.

Having planned to spend the entire day at the Consulate, I now found myself with an entire day to myself. I decided to walk to Harvard. This was not a short walk, but gave me a chance to explore Boston and Cambridge. I ate lunch at a snack bar in the commons. I walked across Boston and then crossed the bridge into Cambridge.

It was a pretty day and I enjoyed the architecture and flowers as I crossed Cambridge to the grounds of Harvard. Being summer during Covid, there were few people about.

I strolled around the grounds and explored a bit before heading back towards a Starbuck’s I had seen on the way. I was in need of liquid refreshment after my long walk. Thus refreshed, I returned through Cambridge and over the river into Boston, enjoying the flowers along the way.

I stopped to take a few photos in a Revolutionary War graveyard.

Tired, I returned to the hotel and passed the evening watching Netflix.









July 28, 2021

Deb and I had agreed to meet for breakfast before I left for the airport. Once again, it was raining and Deb’s plan to eat breakfast outside was foiled. With all the patrons crowded inside, we didn’t have time to wait for a table, so went to the bakery next door for pastries and coffee. By the time we walked back to my hotel to collect my luggage, it was time to call an Uber and head for the airport. Fortunately, we remembered to snap a picture of the two of us together. We had both enjoyed our reunion. My ride to the airport was uneventful, as was my return flight.

IMMIGRATION BLUES

Life in La Cruz during Covid was slow, but good. I made some new friends and solidified my relationships with old ones. Covid made us all appreciate our lives even more than usual and we were grateful to be together in our happy place while much of the world suffered. In December, I adopted an orphan kitten named Pinky.

She filled a real hole in my world and I wondered how I had ever survived so many years in La Cruz without a pet. I treasured my life in La Cruz and wanted to be sure that nothing interfered with its continuance. Thinking my residency expired in February, I pulled out my documents in January only to find that my residency had expired in November when I originally applied, not in February when my green card was issued. I was crushed and humiliated. How could I have done this two years running? Seldom have I felt so stupid. I returned to California, at the first opportunity, to begin the process anew. The difficulty was that covid had changed everything. While it had never been possible to obtain an appointment online at San Francisco or San Jose, it had previously been possible to walk into Sacramento where they operated on a first come, first served basis. After making the hour-long drive to Sacramento, I discovered that they were no longer taking walk-ins. I couldn't even enter the building, although someone did come out to advise me to return under a tourist visa. Unable to remain in the United States because my caretakers had made me unwelcome in my own home, I returned to Mexico without my residency.

This might not have been an issue except that, in April, I bought a condominium in La Cruz. After careful analysis of my post-covid financial situation, it became aparent that the best course of action was to rent my home in Benicia and live permanently in Mexico. Covid had made it clear to me that I didn't really want to live in California, anyway, and the situation with my caretakers had become untenable. I gave them six months' notice on March first, planning to return in August to clear out and rent the house. The rest of my season in La Cruz was the best one yet. Our Monday night jam sessions morphed into a band and we became the opening act at the Brittania for the months of April and May. This was about the most fun I had ever had, although it was a lot of work to prepare fresh set lists every week. Wings, the boat on which I raced, had a great season and, despite the average of our crew being 70, we won the performance class in the Banderas Bay Regatta. I took possession of my condo on April 23rd and madly began shopping for furniture and making the improvements necessary to be comfortable in my own home. My caretakers suddenly informed me, around the middle of May, that they would be leaving by June first. As I had AirBnB guests booked through the month of July, I had to drop the projects to make my condo habitable and rush back to Benicia. This turned out to be a good thing as the project of disposing of several generations worth of family heirlooms turned out to be larger than expected. It took me three weeks just to scan, identify, and distribute the archive(six bins worth) of family photographs that had all, somehow, come to rest with me. Two successful garage sales only served to dispose of the items that had been in storage.

Once the photos were distributed, I made a quick trip to Southern California to deliver some items to family members and visit friends and family before disappearing into Mexico. I still, however, needed to resolve the issue of my residency in Mexico before I could cross the border with my truckload of belongings. Due to covid, Mexico had reduced the number of consulates processing visa applications. Those that were still doing so were only seeing about half as many people. This had the effect of reducing the number of available appointments by something like eighty percent. It was impossible to get an appointment in California before I needed to return to Mexico. I checked every state in the country and the only available appointment I could find was in Boston. I took it.

LAYING LOW IN LA CRUZ

La Cruz was quieter than normal when I returned, but open for business. Dining had mostly been outdoors to begin with. Masks were required in most businesses, but people were walking the streets and relaxing in restaurants without them. When I went racing the day after I arrived, I was the only person on the boat wearing a mask (although this would gradually change as time went on.) After coming from California, where almost everyone wore a mask in public, it was a shock to see so many maskless faces.

La Cruz Malecon at Dawn

In La Cruz, Covid-19 cases had peaked in September and were negligible when I arrived. As cases climbed sharply in California, Nayarit remained a low-Covid oasis, at least until the time of this writing. Despite Mexico's president imploring people not to travel or gather over the holiday season, there were still lots of noisy parties going on and I expected case numbers to climb over the holidays.

Empty Britannia

I laid low for the first week after I arrived and continued to stay home more than usual. I went to a socially distant jam session at the Britannia on Monday nights, played cards outdoors with my girlfriends on Tuesdays, and raced on Wednesdays. I stayed away from the gym and, having sprained my ankle while running in the dark on Thanksgiving morning, was temporarily prevented from walking or running in the morning. My time was spent playing the guitar, surfing the internet, watching Netflix, and painting.

Racing on Wings

My Latest Painting

One of the biggest changes in my lifestyle due to Covid-19 was my decision to avoid public transportation. I walked into Bucerias to go grocery shopping and then took an Uber back with my groceries. I decided that I needed to buy myself a bicycle, both for zipping around town and making longer trips. One morning, I make the 5.5 mile trek to La Comer to purchase a bicycle at the Buen Fin sale, the Mexican equivalent of Black Friday. I got a mountain bike with front and rear shocks for 3800 pesos (about $200.) The trouble with buying a bike at the grocery store was that no one there really knew how to assemble it. The pedals were on backwards and the handlebars were so loose that they didn't turn the wheel. Eventually, we got it assembled well enough so that I could sort of ride it, but the brakes were rubbing and I couldn't shift gears. Riding it home was exhausting.

My New Bicycle

The chain was too long and one of the links was bent. As a result, the chain skipped when pressure was applied. The cheap chain did not have a master link, so I had to order one from Amazon. That took ten days. I was able to adjust the brakes and front derailleur, but the rear one resisted adjustment. If the cable was tight enough to move the derailleur, the shifter seized up. The derailleur, itself, was just too stiff. I eventually managed to adjust it enough to get to the lower gears, but had to settle for leaving it there. I did manage to ride it into Bucerias for a few grocery items. Even that caused my ankle to swell, so I had to settle for using it for short trips around town.

My big project for the season was to shift my healthcare from the United States to Mexico. As a retired person too young for Medicare, I was responsible for paying my own health insurance premiums, which had been running about $1,200/month. When Covid-19 suddenly reduced my income by 40%, I could no longer afford that expense. I was able to get a health insurance policy that was good anywhere in the world EXCEPT the United States for $1,823 for the year. If I returned to the United States, I would need to buy a travel policy.

Hospital Waiting Room

To obtain this insurance, I needed to have some blood work done and get an EKG. I was able to walk to the hospital in Bucerias for the blood work, but had to go to the cardiologist in Nuevo Vallarta for the EKG. I had hoped to take an Uber, but no cars were available. I had to don my face mask and face shield and take a bus to Nuevo Vallarta. Since I was avoiding combis, I took a taxi from the bus stop on the highway to the hospital. I couldn't get an Uber for the return, either, so had to reverse the process. The bus was not terribly crowded and the windows were open, but there were a few people without masks, despite masks supposedly being required to ride.

Every year, the women of La Cruz get together for a clothing exchange. I was part of the What's App group relating to this exchange. In early December, someone posted that she had found an orphaned kitten, but need to sail away and couldn't take her along. I offered to foster the kitten. Pinky, as she came to be named, was a tiny, skinny, thing about seven weeks old. She was all eyes and ears. Cherie and John sailed south a few days later, leaving me alone with the kitten. She ate voraciously and rapidly grew bolder. By ten weeks, she had a round, little belly and was rampaging about the house and attacking anything that moved. She rapidly alternated between being angelic and monstrous and kept me well entertained.

Pinky

While many of my usual pastimes were canceled and many of my normal companions absent, there was one new activity that grew out of the Covid crisis. A mixed group of local families and gringo residents had begun a community garden to grow produce for those in need. Since my own finances had been adversely affected by the situation, I could not contribute to the food bank as much as I had earlier. I decided to contribute my labor, instead.

I joined the project in its early days. The ejido (land cooperative) had granted us a corner of their cow pasture and someone had run a tractor over it quickly, leaving the area covered in cut, dry grass and big chunks of hard dirt. It was very difficult to walk, especially with an injured ankle. Three dump trucks full of topsoil had been delivered before I arrived. We set about converting the piles into raised beds and the grass into the largest compost heap that anyone had ever seen.

We shoveled for three weeks, working Sunday mornings and Tuesday and Friday evenings. Having spent the entire summer with a shovel in my hand, I tackled the heaviest jobs. We dug a large pit to convert the woody debris into charcoal. The less fit members started seedlings and planted them as the beds became ready. By the week of Christmas, the area looked like a real garden, a fence was going up to keep the cows out, and someone had donated a container to be converted to a tool shed.

The Community Garden

As we worked together, we became comfortable with each other and the two communities became one team. I got to speak a lot of Spanish and we talked and laughed as we worked and taught each other the English and Spanish words for garden tools.

It has long been a tradition in La Cruz that the gringo residents provide a Christmas gift for every child in the town. Two of the local restaurants facilitate this event. Some sailing friends and I were going to the Treehouse Bar for Christmas Eve dinner just as the children were receiving their gifts. A well-known waiter from the Britannia was dressed as Santa Claus and the line stretched for blocks. Five hundred and fifty children received gifts. An anonymous donor had provided gift certificates for a roast chicken dinner for each of the families receiving assistance from the food bank. The Christmas spirit was alive and well in La Cruz.

The Children of La Cruz Receiving Their Gifts

Alfredo and Mary Chuy from the Treehouse prepared a lovely turkey dinner for their orphan regulars. The Treehouse is open air and spacious. With only fifteen or twenty patrons in a space that can seat two hundred, there was plenty of social distance. I shared a table with friends old and new and it was a lovely way to spend Christmas Eve.