Housemates. Roommates. We’ve all had them over the years. My nuclear family were my first ones, then my spouse and then my children. But I’ve been submerged in a totally new category now. It’s called living with strangers, many of whom have become great friends.

Known here as shared housing, this is basically how I have been living for close to four years now in Mexico. Basically you have your own bedroom in a house, but you share all the common areas with others. For some reason, these are referred to as “apartments” rather than “rooms”.

My first year in Mexico the school found me a home with a single lady in her 60’s. She was a very traditional Mexican lady, what we would call old-fashioned in Canada. Rosamaria also did not speak a word of English and wasn’t interested in learning either. She detested computers and despised the modem that was installed to enable a WiFi connection for me. She complained religiously to the school that I used the air conditioner in my bedroom excessively. But the most distinctive trait was her paranoia. I had to unlock two gates and two doors to gain access to the main house. The laundry area was on the other side of a covered outdoor terrace…….and three more locked doors to deal with. And she insisted that I keep my bedroom door locked at all times, even if I was only steps away in the kitchen or the living room!

My second year in Mexico began in Irapuato. The house itself was comfortable but the housemates left a lot to be desired. Luis was  a young man from England who constantly had his television loudly blaring soccer games. Elizabeth was from South Carolina and sharing a bathroom with her was a challenge as cleanliness and hygiene were seriously lacking from her vocabulary.

I then found myself in Tlaquepaque ( a suburb of Guadalajara) sharing a house with a parade of other teachers when I taught at a language institute that first semester. Maureen was in her 60’s, an alcoholic and we always feared we’d find her at the foot of the stairs one morning with a broken neck. Adam  was an interesting young man from Ireland who unfortunately wound up in jail here and was subsequently fired by the school. Miriam was from Norway, and she still divides her time between the two countries as her boyfriend is Mexican. I always look forward to spending time with her when she is in Mexico. Alfredo was from California and has become a good friend. If you ever need a suitcase packed in a hurry, he is definitely your man!

The next semester began and new housemates arrived. Alan was a young man from Ireland who moonlighted as a dj at a bar. Sharn was from Australia and wound up moving in with a Mexican boyfriend. Brandon was from Wisconsin and we still keep in touch today. He is an avid reader and works in a library back in his hometown.

I returned to Tlaquepaque in the fall after spending several months back in Winnipeg. This time I moved into a house located on Zalatitan that I shared with four others.

Only one of the others was a teacher and that was a former housemate, Adam from Ireland. Lennart was from Sweden and was traveling and learning Spanish. We still keep in touch on Facebook. Joe came from Hawaii and was volunteering his time down here. Joe returned to Guadalajara a while ago and we got together for lunch one day.  Manuel was a Mexican whose family remained in Mexico City although he was working in nearby Tonala, another suburb. When Lennart moved out, Kate moved in. She was a teacher from California. Although she only lived here for a month, we became great friends. I visited her in Puerto Vallarta last spring, and she is now teaching in Colombia.

When Kate moved out, Angela moved in. She was very young, right out of high school in England, and wound up teaching English here. Totally ignorant of grammar, she was unable to differentiate between gerunds and the present continuous tense, confusing her students immensely. Annie was from Oregon and was here for about three weeks. Very young and immature, she drank heavily, passed out in a friend’s car one night and  had to be revived in a shower at another friend’s house.

 I returned to Tlaquepaque via the Baja Norte and Culiacan in November, after spending several months in Winnipeg again. I came home to the house on Zalatitan to find two housemates. Omar was an English teacher from Oregon. We became great friends and I recently went to Tototlan to visit him after he moved away. Stephen was from B.C. and we have known each other for a couple of years now as he comes here to study Spanish for several months of the year. Sean arrived from Colorado and introduced me to the world of blogging on WordPress. Sean and Omar were notorious for blasting a variety of music through the speakers in the living room, and it became all too quiet when they both moved out. Here is a pic taken at Christmas when we all prepared a sumptuous meal together.

Roos spent a month here learning Spanish. She came from the Netherlands and decided to stay in Guadalajara, but moved to another area of the city. Srinath and Michelle came from Montreal for a few days, as did Andres from California. Yves from France was here for two nights. And then Oliver arrived. He was an Asian who had lived in Calgary for three years after leaving China. He gets the award for the strangest person I have ever met in my life, as well as the most despicable. And when it came to the bathroom, he was even worse than Elizabeth in Irapuato had been! The landlord actually had him move to another area of the house so that I would no longer have to share a bathroom with him, and we all breathed a sigh of relief when he left.

At the moment I have only one housemate. Ben is from Ohio and his passion lies in playing poker on the internet. I enjoy having him around and have long forgiven him for using my warm vanilla sugar body wash when he first arrived.

Despite the odd difficult housemate, overall it’s been a fantastic experience. I have met people from all over the world; from different cultures, religions and backgrounds. They often speak other languages and always have many interesting stories to share.

This lifestyle has also provided me with an education one simply cannot get living a traditional (what some people call “normal”)  lifestyle as I did for the first half century of my life.

I enjoy a freedom and independence unlike any I have ever known, and I look forward to many more housemates in the future, wherever in the world I may choose to live.  

I’ve been back in Mexico for seven months and it’s June already. The transition between seasons is very different here than in Canada. While my friends up north are enthusiastically digging in their gardens after a never ending winter, I have been enjoying beautiful flowers and delicious local produce year round.

The rainy season has begun and we will now use our umbrellas to protect us from the rain as well as the sun. But our daytime highs continue to be in the low thirties Celsius.

Thursday was my day off and I welcomed the chance to sleep late. I wandered down to the square and sat in the Jardin Hidalgo. This is an excellent place to strike up a conversation with a local and practice my Spanish. And here are some other friends who come to visit regularly, adding to the ambiance of the garden.  

In the evening Rob and I went to Vic’s for dinner. On the weekends, one of my neighbors down the street fires up his grill and cooks delicious hamburgers, hot dogs and other Mexican specialties such as lonches, enchiladas and more .

Friday was another day off and it was an opportunity to do laundry and other tedious household tasks. In the evening I met my language partner Isaias and his nephew David at Jahanve, my favorite coffee shop.

I awoke Saturday morning to a gloomy overcast sky. I taught my first class in the morning and was delighted to see the sun shining brightly by the lunch break.

My Saturday class was a Conversation Club where my students chose interesting and stimulating topics with which to improve both their vocabulary and oral skills. I left school that day with a skip in my step.

My friend Rob picked me up and we headed to Soriana to get some groceries. Back at my house, with the aid of a couple of caguamas, we made a spectacular salad and an incredibly delicious lasagna. As an afterthought I threw together some garlic cheese toast. Apple enchiladas completed our homemade feast. Here is Rob preparing vegetables for the salad.

And then I looked at Facebook. And I could not believe the photo of my daughter in a harness preparing to jump off a 4 story building! 

The next morning when I checked Facebook I found this photo my friend David in Winnipeg had posted.

David had lovingly restored this beauty in 2012 and it was now an Autopac write-off!

Monday dawned early for me, at 5:30 am actually. Shortly thereafter I was off to Zapopan to give my students a grammar exam. Their grades were exceptionally high and I was really pleased.

I then stopped at my neighborhood tienguis to buy some fresh fruit and veggies. I have my favorite vendors who recognize me now. When I first arrived here I had to buy a whole head of cauliflower, and they are huge. I now have my vendor trained. When he sees me he immediately cuts one in half and puts it in a bag for me. My fruit vendor knows that I want  containers with half a pineapple and half a watermelon, freshly cut up. I really feel like a local when I stroll through this street market.

In the afternoon I found myself in Miravalle giving a grammar exam to my other students. Then it was back on the Macrobus and to my house. 

Tuesday was my day off. I slept late and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at home. Duolingo was on my mind and I spent almost four hours practicing  Spanish on my computer. I totally empathize with my students when it comes to learning grammar in a second language.

I went for a long walk afterwards to clear my head. I did some shopping in the square and then stopped for one of my favorite treats………….a churro with cajeta and azucar.

On Wednesday I was up early again to teach in Zapopan. My students had their oral exam and did exceptionally well again. I am so proud of them!

When I returned home in the afternoon, I spent time chatting with a new housemate before heading out to teach my afternoon classes.

Today is Thursday and once again I have a day off. The morning was spent on learning Spanish and writing. This afternoon I am off   to Cinepolis to see Malefica, in Spanish of course!

And another seven days in Mexico has flown by……………

Friends often ask me how I decide what to write about in this blog. I once took a course in Creative Writing and our instructor encouraged us to write about issues that were pertinent to our lives. And of course it’s always a good idea to write about topics of which we are knowledgeable. As a writer I am guilty of an overabundance of contemplation which greatly influences my writing. Ideas just seem to come easily and the words flow most of the time, aside from the occasional dreaded writer’s block. 

This blog on WordPress is my first attempt at any type of blog. It’s true that I have published a book previously, and that I am currently editing my second book. But this blog is a place where I can test the waters. I value the feedback I receive from people, and I realize that on occasion I have hit more than one nerve. However this is all a part of learning and growing.

I have written my own personal journals for many years. I often express sentiments in writing that I would never verbalize. Here I not only vent my frustrations, but I also reflect on the many blessings in my life. I do not write every day as that would be forced. I write when I am inspired. It may be a few words or a few pages, but it is me.

Ok, so I don’t sit on top of a doghouse with a typewriter like Snoopy. I prefer to pour my heart out to my laptop. Indeed I encourage everyone to indulge in this exercise. In the game of life,  nothing lasts forever and writing is an excellent tool when dealing with change.

Our lives are complicated journeys where the unexpected often dominates the carefully planned itinerary. This is especially true of my life in recent years.

I  always envisioned my husband and I growing old together and reveling in the accomplishments of our children. I imagined numerous holidays and celebrations spent together as a family. Divorce created an insurmountable roadblock to that plan. But it also cleared the way for the most incredible Plan B.

With an open mind and a renewed zest for life, I embraced the many changes and moved forward. I published my first book, graduated from university and embarked on a new career in a foreign country. The challenges of a different culture and an additional language are both amazing and sightly overwhelming at times. But I have met incredible people and traveled to fascinating places. I am finally truly living life to the fullest.

But most importantly, through these experiences I have rediscovered myself!  Buried for decades within the confines of an unhappy marriage, my confidence has returned with a vengeance along with a sense of self-esteem that has risen to the highest of levels.  A renewed enthusiasm for life has replaced the depression and anxiety that were once so prevalent in my past. 

I cherish the present, and look forward to a spectacular future. Every day brings the promise of an exciting adventure, ensuring that there will always be something to write about ……………………

Mother’s Day in Mexico is celebrated on May 10th, regardless of the day of the week it falls upon. In Canada Mother’s Day is celebrated on the second Sunday of May. This year Mother’s Day for me was two days in a row this past weekend.

My children are both in their 30’s now (this photo was taken 6 years ago) so we have celebrated many of these days together. I have beautiful memories of cards and gifts they made me. I can still feel the hugs and kisses. They always made me feel special. And I thank God every day for the gift of motherhood, and that I have been blessed with two wonderful children.

Because I live in Mexico, and they live in Canada, we no longer are together on Mother’s Day. The Email and Facebook Messages  I received from them this year brought tears to my eyes. It just doesn’t get any easier over the years and I wonder if we will ever be together again on Mother’s Day.

Last year I was in Winnipeg awaiting surgery on Mother’s Day. Kyle, Krista and I had a fabulous lunch together at Montana’s.

Unfortunately Kimmy was living in Ontario and unable to be with us. The last time I was with both of my children on Mother’s Day was in 2009. Kimmy made a beautiful brunch for me at her home in Oak Bluff.

One Mother’s Day that stands out was May 12th, 1996. This was the last time I was with my mother on this day. She passed away just over a month later.

I remember that day vividly. We had brunch together in my house in Tuxedo. I remember the menu……….mandarin orange almond salad, baked french toast casserole, lemon jello mold and a trifle for dessert. But what I remember most is regretting that we didn’t take any family photos. Instead I carry in my heart the memories of my children, my mother and myself together that one last time.

Day 1 of Mother’s Day this year fell on a Saturday. I taught my class as usual that day, even giving an exam to my class. I’d like to share a Facebook post from one of my students:

I’m not going back. This is the first time in three years that I am not returning to Canada in the spring. I am staying here in Tlaquepaque. I’ve lived in this house longer than anywhere else in Winnipeg in the last five years, and this feels like home now.

This is also the first time I have stayed here for Semana Santa. In the past I’ve always been in Culiacan with my family. Instead of going to a Mass at a church, I participated in a Via Crucis in the streets of San Pedro, along with hundreds of others. 

Instead of the usual chocolate eggs and rabbits that are common in Canada, I enjoyed the empanadas offered by the local vendors.

The spring semester began at school, and my students informed me of a number of special days that are celebrated here.

April 30th is Children’s Day. In the elementary schools, parties are held with music, food and special activities.

May 1st is Labor Day here. Government offices, banks and schools are closed.

May 3rd is celebrated by Catholics as Day of the Holy Cross. One block away from my house there was a street fair, complete with music, games, food and fireworks.

Cinco de Mayo surprisingly lacked the festivities that I had envisioned. Schools were closed, but it was a regular work day for everyone else.

Mothers Day in Mexico is celebrated on May 10th regardless of the day of the week it falls upon. May 15th is Teachers Day and classes are cancelled. And May 23rd is Students Day.

With the month of May filled with all these fiestas, I look forward to the summer months here in Guadalajara. I am certain that there will be more special days to come.

And although the rainy season is approaching, the days are mainly still sunny and warm. Spring this year has actually been unseasonably hot.

As I write this, I hear the strains of mariachi music in the distance. Across the street a group of men assemble chairs in their home. Banda music blares from a car radio as one of my neighbors paints his car out on the street. A horse and wagon pass by with a load of tree branches. Children scurry by on their way home from school. Dogs and cats freely meander about. The hours pass by quickly yet time seems to stand still. This is my life in a small town in the midst of a sprawling metropolis.

I’m not going back. I’m staying right here in Tlaquepaque, where smiling faces greet complete strangers with “Buenos dias” , where roosters crow at the crack of dawn, and where birds chirp loudly. Here, even on a cloudy day, the sun shines brightly in my heart, and I am happy.

I love this quote. We are born into a family by blood, but as we grow we have the opportunity to expand our family to include close friends. As we share life experiences together, our bonds become stronger. And we are closer in so many more ways than we are with our own blood family. Indeed my close friends have become my brothers and sisters, and I am truly blessed to have them all in my life.

My two children are my only close blood family. My other blood family of a sibling and cousins have not been there for me in years. It is my friends who are my constant source of encouragement and support, and I treasure the special relationships that we share.

The past five years have been especially challenging for me. When my marriage ended abruptly, it was my friends who stood by me through an ugly separation and divorce experience. And it was my friends who were awesome when I had two major surgeries in the past two years.

And so I would like to dedicate this post to my family of friends.

In Winnipeg, I have an amazing group of friends. Although I have been living in Mexico for most of the past four years, when I do return to visit they have opened their hearts and homes to me. We still talk on the phone regularly, and it doesn’t feel like we are thousands of miles apart. It’s just so nice to hear that familiar voice and realize that living in the same city is not what counts. What is important is that we are still an important part of each other’s lives.

I have known Audrey, Joan, David, Pauline, Cheyenna and Sheila for over twenty years. Audrey and I met when our children were friends in elementary school. I met David in Edmonton when my daughter was bowling in Nationals. I became friends with Joan and Cheyenna when I took courses at Red River College. Pauline is my daughter’s godmother. Sheila and I met back in junior high school.

Here is a pic taken last summer with Pauline.

I  began attending auctions in 2000, and this is where I met Lise, Rita and Natasha. When I joined the YMCA-YWCA I met Donna, Glenda, Iris and Ethel. Laura and I became friends when I went back to University of Manitoba to get my CTesl. And more recently Alice and Nancy have become good friends.

Donna and I enjoyed our afternoon at the English Gardens last summer.

When I had my first knee replacement surgery, I met Carolyn and Brenda in physiotherapy sessions. Carolyn and I had more than knee surgery in common. We had both been married just shy of 36 years when our marriages ended in divorce.

 I also have two other very special friends in my life. Carole lives in Minneapolis and we have been friends since we were twelve years old. Rochelle lives in Los Angeles and we have known each other since university back in the 1970’s. She was also one of my bridesmaids when I got married.

Here is a pic when I visited Rochelle in Los Angeles.

 Last summer I returned to Winnipeg for a second round of surgery. I have Karen and Chad to thank for providing me with the most awesome home that made such a difference in my recovery time. I also really enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with them in Warren. Here is a photo of their son Josh with Aunt Mabel (100 years young!) at that dinner.

I now live in Mexico where I have no blood family at all. And I am far away from my children and my family of friends in Winnipeg. But I have expanded the circle of friends whom I now consider to be part of my chosen family.

There is one very special family in Culiacan who are very dear to my heart. 

Juan and I taught together at Instituto Senda del Rio. Our friendship began with his helping me with Spanish and my helping him with English. His wife Lucila would pick him up from school at the end of the day, and they insisted on driving me home as well as the days became hotter in the spring. They would often take me out for raspados or to parks or to Forum. Their son Juan Carlos was a toddler and soooooo adorable! (And he still is!)

On Mother’s Day Lucila made me a bracelet which I treasure. And on my birthday we all went out to a wonderful Chinese restaurant to celebrate.

 I no longer live in Culiacan, but I do visit my family there regularly. Juan Carlos now has a brother and I have two “nietos” to enjoy.

Whenever I visit Culiacan, all of Juan and Lucila’s family are very welcoming. I have gone to several family celebrations with them. This photo was taken at one of the birthday parties.

Another close friend in Culiacan is Juan Pablo. One of the rare English speakers I met there, our adventures included everything from going to the beach to cruising Juarez to find the best rates on currency exchange. This photo was taken on my most recent visit to Culiacan in November.

When I lived in Culiacan, I went to Los Mochis on a holiday and went to the Copper Canyon by train. This was where I met Angie and her family. Angie lives in Jiminez and her children live in Mexico City, but we kept in touch by email and Facebook. Last year I spent New Years with Angie and her family. I stayed at her son Ventura’s home, and we really had a wonderful reunion.

Here is a pic of my friend Pilar, a colleague when I taught for a brief period in Irapuato. Pilar’s mother went out of her way to drive me to church on Sundays, and always made me feel welcome in her home.

Another friend whose family have embraced me is my language partner Isaias. I have spent the past two Christmas Eves with them and have also been invited to other family celebrations. 

Two years ago when I needed my FM3 renewed, I was told by the director of my school to go to Otro Nivel and speak to the lead singer in the band. Not only is German an excellent immigration lawyer, but he has also become a great friend. And I enjoy listening to the Barbershop Rock Band perform here in Tlaquepaque.

Claudia lives here in Guadalajara and her mom has this fabulous coffee shop called Jahanve that I frequent.

Luke is an American who is married to a Mexican here. I first met Luke just over two years ago when we taught together at a language institute.

For the past two plus years I have been in Tlaquepaque, I have taught with many teachers and have lived with many housemates from all over the world. Because we are all foreigners and many of us are transients, we become like family as well. This year on Christmas Day, my housemates and I cooked a fabulous Christmas dinner together.

Sean has gone back to the USA and Omar has moved elsewhere in Mexico, but we still keep in touch. Stephen and I have known each other for more than two years now, and he has just returned to Canada.

Mike and I met in a Spanish class last winter. He returned to Mexico on a holiday this month and we enjoyed catching up over a lovely dinner at Italianni’s.

Many of us who taught together here in Mexico still keep in touch on Facebook and by email. It’s quite interesting to see what everyone has been doing since they left Guadalajara. Some of us return and it’s always great to see each other again.

Here is my friend Miriam from Norway who divides her time between the two countries.

Brandon is from Wisconsin. An avid reader, we taught together at a language institute a couple of years ago. He is back in the USA now, although he has been back recently o visit Mexico.

Alfredo is from California and we also taught together here in Tlaquepaque. And if you ever need a suitcase packed quickly and efficiently, he is definitely your man.

And then there is my friend Kate from California. We were housemates for about one month last winter, but we became very close. Kate is an amazing woman with an incredible zest for life. She not only has encouraged me in my writing, but she has also opened my eyes to envision an exciting future in my own life. Kate is now following her dream of volunteer teaching in Colombia.  I know she will have an awesome impact on those students’ lives.

I also have my church family at La Casa del Alfarero. It is difficult to find an Evangelist church here in Mexico where Catholicism  is the dominant religion. And I am very thankful that not only was I able to find a church, but it is only four blocks from my house. Below is a photo of my friend Chelo, also the pastor’s wife.

And I have a third group of friends whom I include in my family. These are all my Facebook friends. I’d like to share a post one of my friends in Huntsville, Alabama shared on his wall. Bill and I have never met in person, but our friendship has grown as we regularly acknowledge each other’s life experiences.

I really value everyone’s friendship and I love you all!

My own children continue to live in Canada, in cities where they have no blood family in their lives. My son is in Manitoba and my daughter is in Ontario. We all live thousands of miles apart and our correspondence is limited to the odd phone call, text or message. I miss the relationship we once had when we all lived in the same city, and I treasure the memories I have in my heart. But I am confident that I have instilled upon my children the value of cultivating close friendships, so that they too have created and expanded their own family of friends. 

Thirty years ago I gave birth to the most wonderful daughter in the world. And just last month she returned from a vacation in the D0minican Republic engaged to her boyfriend. Wherever have the years gone? It seems like just yesterday I brought her home from the hospital.

Big brother Kyle was also excited the day Kimmy came home.

**Just in case you are wondering………while everyone else calls her “Kim”, she will always be “Kimmy” to me. And I believe that her brother Kyle still calls her “Kimmy” as well.

Kimmy was a delightful little bundle of joy. She had the brightest smile and laughing eyes. She would awake from a nap refreshed and happy. Of course most of her napping was done in my car as I was busy chauffeuring her big brother around to school and other activities.

Kimmy’s first word was not “mama”. It was “bobba”. She absolutely adored my mother and they had a very special relationship throughout the years. Here she is playing with a tea set at her Bobba’s condo.

At a very young age she showed a distinct preference for the color “pink”. Thank goodness for Oshkosh in Florida, a great place to find pink jeans and pink overalls. And I once found her an adorable outfit at the Roots store in Toronto. Winnipeg was not really a haven for clothes shopping back then and most of her pink clothes came from trips down to the USA.

Kimmy enjoyed many happy hours with her Bobba. I would often come to pick her up and she tried to block the door so that I couldn’t come in. And she loved the sleepovers too.

Kimmy was also very close with two of my aunties in Winnipeg. We would often have tea parties with them. Here is Kimmy on the floor with her Auntie Jan playing a game together.

As she grew older she participated in many extracurricular activities. Gymnastics and ballet came first. Her Bobba sewed the costume she’s wearing in this photo.

Here she is displaying her wings at a Brownies ceremony.

Kimmy was also quite an accomplished bowler, participating in national tournaments in Alberta and Newfoundland, where she received a silver medal as a single.

Here in Mexico I have very few family photos on my computer. My son has graciously agreed to store all the albums for me, and my project the next time I visit Winnipeg will be to add more photos to my collection here.

Kimmy adored our two dogs. Kelsey was already seven years old when Kimmy was born. This photo of Kimmy, Kelsey and Kyle was taken a couple of days before Kelsey passed away.

And then Kimmy was very persuasive and Koal came into our lives. For the first few days, she was the only one in the family he bonded with. She would lie on the floor and he would climb onto her tummy and fall asleep. She would dress him in doll clothes, spray him with perfume and put barrettes in his fur. Kimmy loved to cuddle with Koal.

As Kimmy grew, she developed a wide variety of interests. She discovered the art of drumming and participated in bands, sang in The Assiniboine South Youth Choir, Honor Choir and Winnipeg Women’s Choir, performed in musicals at Charleswood United Church and became quite creative in the culinary arts area.

Kimmy then chose to return to university and enter the nursing profession. Attending her graduation was a highlight of 2010 for me.

Kimmy was quite young when she moved away from home. It was very quiet around the house without her. She lived in the city, moved out to the country and then back into the city. I was delighted when the apartment she rented was a mere five minutes drive from my apartment in Winnipeg and two minutes away from the hospital where she worked. Here is Kimmy napping at my place after work one night.

Kimmy developed an affection for cats when she moved rural. I was a little apprehensive as she had had a severe allergy to cats as a child. However, the allergy seemed to have vanished as she acquired two kittens, Tigger and Tessa. Here she is with Tigger.

When I had my first knee replacement, Kimmy was a marvel. Not only did she visit me regularly, but she also brought me the most delicious lunch one day…….a VJ’s hamburger. She drove me home from the hospital, and how she managed to get me up those steps and into the house is still amazing to me. And she also took me on my first outing after my surgery. Anyone who is fortunate enough to have my daughter as a nurse is truly receiving the ultimate in professional care.

Kimmy moved to Ontario with Tarrant shortly after that surgery. And I returned to Mexico. Living thousands of miles apart in different countries means no more mommy-daughter lunches at Sorrentos, or coffee’s at Tim’s. We speak on the phone or text very infrequently and neither of us are really into email. Facebook is where we primarily keep tabs on each other.

I have also encouraged her to read my blog. And if she is reading this post, I hope she is okay with being the subject and seeing all the photos. I just can’t help it! This is a very exciting time for all of us! It isn’t every day that my baby gets engaged!

Congratulations Kimmy and Tarrant! Love you lots!!!!

March 21st arrived last week, announcing the beginning of a new season. Spring is that glorious time when all things dormant come alive again. It brings with it the promise of warmer weather, unless you live in Winnipeg where it still continues to snow.

But here in Mexico blossoms fill the trees.

New flowers bud and burst into color.

Walking along the streets, cascades of blooms hang over walls.

The temperatures here have soared into the mid-nineties in the past week. I am seriously contemplating the purchase of an umbrella to shade myself from the sun as so many people do here.

The beaches are lined with umbrellas to protect sun-worshippers year round. But as summer approaches, they become even more in demand.

The other day it rained, a highly unusual phenomenon for this time of year. And in the neighboring state of Michoacan, a tornado touched down

But then the weather has been crazy all over the world this year. There have been blizzards, devastating floods, mudslides, hurricanes and earthquakes.

But it’s spring! And I am excited about my favorite season! Here are some more photos of my world that I’d like to share with you:

If you live up north where you are still submerged in snow, I hope that my photos have brightened your day. And spring will eventually come your way. There’s just been a slight delay…….

“If I had it to do over”………..how often do we utter these words? As the years go by and we reflect on our lives, these words often become a favored topic of conversation among friends. I find that here in Mexico, where we are all so transient and come from such different backgrounds, we often share our life experiences and compare our hopes and dreams that have yet to materialize.

By no means does this means that our hopes and dreams have been shattered. In fact quite the opposite is true. We learn from our past and we can then make more appropriate choices for our future.

I read an article the other day that involved choosing one past regret for each decade and examining how it has impacted your life. My first thought was, “Wow! Only one?”But the more time I spent contemplating my life, the more sense it made. And as I travelled through time, I noticed a trend. These regrets began with the trivial and evolved into the deeper issues that seriously affected my quality of life. 

I’ll start with the 50’s. I always hated my short hair, but my mother insisted that it was easier to care for and that I looked cute with short hair. I now look back at pictures of me with short hair and I do see the logic in my mother’s philosophy. Short hair takes far less time to dry and is easier to style. And I did look kind of cute.

It is now 2014 and I have long hair. It does dry quickly here in Mexico and I usually wear it down so there is a minimum of styling involved.

Back in the 60’s music was my passion. Although I myself played mostly classical music on the piano, I was totally taken by the British invasion of rock and roll. I attended concerts frequently in Winnipeg, enjoying the music of Herman’s Hermits, The Who, The Dave Clark Five and The Hollies. And I saw American groups such as The Beach Boys, Paul Revere and the Raiders and The Monkees as well. Other memorable concerts included Simon & Garfunkel and Sonny & Cher. And I grew up in Winnipeg where Neil Young and The Guess Who were legends. My regret for this decade? I didn’t go to Woodstock when I had the opportunity.

The music from this event has influenced not only my taste in music, but also my lifestyle as well. Today I feel more like the free spirit I was back then, and conformity just isn’t a word in my vocabulary.

In the 70’s, the regret I have involved both my personal life as well as my career choice. I married way too young and opted for an abysmal job in our family business instead of obtaining further education and pursuing a more rewarding career. I have since come to the realization that an undergraduate degree is merely a stepping stone and should not signify the end of a formal education. Over the years I have returned to school and earned other degrees, which have enabled me to become financially independent and able to enjoy the lifestyle I now have in Mexico where I teach English part-time.  

Because I am now single again, I am free to make all decisions as to where to live and travel, as well as with whom to associate. I am rediscovering the “Karen” that was buried throughout all those years of marriage. I have recovered my self-confidence and my self-esteem and am truly living life to the fullest now.

I loved the 80’s. I gave birth to two wonderful children and really enjoyed being at home with them. I was fortunate that I had a home office and I worked while my babies napped. I was there to hear their first words, see their first steps and really revel in all the joys of parenthood. We baked together, did a variety of crafts together and went to library and gym programs together. And of course I was the chauffeur for all the extracurricular activities once they started school. My only regret is that I didn’t have a third child. My two pregnancies had been very difficult, and my doctor strongly advised that I be content with two children. After all, I had a boy and a girl. And they are the loves of my life!

The 90’s was a decade of family challenges. There were problems within my own family, as well as issues with extended family members. My one regret is that when my battle with depression and anxiety began shortly after my mother’s death, I didn’t listen to my psychiatrist. He suggested on several occasions that pills were not the answer and that I needed to get out of my marriage instead. Had I listened back then, perhaps many of the issues I have struggled with over the years could have been avoided. But more importantly, my children may have had a happier childhood in a more loving and secure environment.

The first decade of the new millenium brought additional health challenges. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis in my knees and surgery was indicated. I was reluctant to have this surgery primarily because my mother had died having this surgery. I was terrified at the aspect of knee surgery, and was determined to delay the inevitable as long as possible. I endured constant pain for years. This affected my career as I could no longer meet the physical demands involved  in working with mentally challenged individuals. It greatly limited my physical activities as walking became more and more difficult. Stairs were sheer torture and I finally convinced my husband that it was time to sell the two level house and move into a bungalow.

Recently I have had two successful knee surgeries, and I only wish that I hadn’t waited so long to have them. Before the surgery, walking into a store from a handicapped parking space was a challenge, and stairs were absolutely taboo. Today I walk for miles on uneven pavement here in Mexico and stairs are no longer an issue. And I do not miss that constant nagging physical pain at all.

And now we are well into the second decade of the 21st century. My regrets have gone from a hairstyle to music to education to having children to divorce to health challenges. While I love my new life here in Mexico, I do have one regret, and it’s a big one. I live thousands of miles away from my children, and I am missing out on so much of their lives right now. I miss the days of being a stay-at-home mom where I was with them constantly and lived life through their eyes as well. I guess I still have a few more years in the decade to ponder this one…………

In view of what has transpired this week in Guadalajara, I thought it appropriate to relate my experiences in using public transit in this city.

I will begin by stating that I have yet to ride on a bus here that would be deemed roadworthy to travel on the streets in my hometown in Canada. While the executive class buses I use for travel between cities are luxurious with amenities such as WiFi and computer terminals at each seat featuring movies and music, the buses in the city are dilapidated and unsafe.

The other day all the main streets in Centro Guadalajara were closed down due to a huge protest of thousands of people. It would appear that the people here are fed up with the dangers of using public transit. They are demanding changes and improvements. And the government has finally stepped in and is taking action.

Back in December of 2013, an increase of one peso was approved, resulting in a full fare of seven pesos. Students, seniors and handicapped would now pay three and a half pesos instead of three pesos. In return, the buses were to be maintained regularly to ensure safety and the drivers were to have certifications and wear uniforms. A third stipulation was that the safety record required drastic improvement.

Effective March 10th, the fares were rolled back to 6 pesos and three pesos respectively. Why? None of the conditions had been met. People were outraged last week when a bus careened into a crowd of students outside of a university, resulting in the death of a young woman. Cause of the crash was an intoxicated bus driver.

I have found bus drivers here to be reckless and distracted. They talk and text on cell phones while driving. They also smoke while passengers are not allowed to smoke. They race each other down the streets trying to pick up passengers. The drivers own their bus and routes. The more passengers, the more money. People are crammed into these vehicles, often hanging out of the open doors and merely grasping a railing. This is extremely dangerous as the drivers speed through the streets, disregarding traffic lights and constantly weaving in and out of traffic. And they lean on their horns in order to vent their frustration. Crashes are becoming far too common.

The conditions of the buses themselves are deplorable at best. There are often gaping holes in the floor and you can see the road below you. Cracked windshields and broken passenger windows are the norm. Graffiti decorates the interior, along with any religious paraphernalia that the driver may choose. Plush dice and stuffed animals are another favorite. The seats are hard metal and often sway as they are not sturdy. The floor above the wheels of the bus is raised, barely allowing anyone to fit into those seats. The buses lack proper lighting on the outside and it is difficult to discern the number of the route. Scratches, dents, front bumpers smashed and drooping as well as broken side view mirrors are extremely common. And of course the never ending loud noise from the brakes grinding in an attempt to stop the vehicle are constantly heard throughout the streets.

Guadalajara implemented a first class bus system a couple of years ago called Tur. These are blue buses and are available on a very limited number of routes. They cost twelve pesos. The seats are quite comfortable and they are air-conditioned. But again the same problem with poorly maintained vehicles including inadequate lighting and grinding brakes.

The Macrobus is an above ground rapid transit system that runs along one of the main streets in the city. It has a designated corridor and is a great option. There are two buses—one stops at every station and one is an Express that stops at only a few stations. They run constantly every few minutes from 6 am to 10 pm, the same hours as all the regular buses. There are also feeder buses that go through certain neighborhoods and provide an alternative to walking to a station.

But a dedicated lane does not guarantee safety. Just last week a Macrobus mowed down a cyclist who had strayed into this lane. 

Guadalajara also has a subway system. However I have yet to use this form of transportation, so I know very little about it. I have friends who use it and highly recommend it as a fast way to traverse the city.

Having written at length about the woes of public transport in Guadalajara, there are also features that I enjoy and find amusing.

There are very few designated bus stops here. Basically, I stand on a corner and flag down a bus. They usually stop, although some drivers are impatient and want to get the green light and may speed by. Because there are so few marked bus stops, you merely ask a driver to let you out and they stop and let you off. This may be curbside or in the middle of four lanes of traffic. But it’s usually close to where you want to disembark.

There are no schedules and buses come quite often. This eliminates the necessity of checking online. It’s also quite amusing that when there is too much traffic, the drivers will just dipsy-doodle down side streets deviating from the usual route.

Passengers are also entertained by people who get on and play guitars and sing. Sometimes the antics of a clown are amusing. I feel sad when I see young children come onto a bus and sing, especially at night. These entertainers hopefully expect that passengers will throw a peso or two their way.

There are also vendors who board the buses, selling religious articles, potato chips and candy.

One of the aspects I find quite fascinating is how people board the buses. The drivers are always asking everyone to move to the back of the bus. Many people are reluctant to do so. When the bus stops to pick up people, the driver will often open the back door. I find it amazing that you pass your money up to the front through all these people, and your ticket as well as the correct change is always passed back to you.

When it comes to giving change, drivers are only too happy to give you change if you hand then a five hundred peso note for a six peso fare. Actually, I have seen people board the bus only to get change, and then they get off.

The driver has a tray of money in front of him. Quite often he will leave the bus to grab a taco. The money is there, the keys are in the ignition, and no-one would even think of stealing the money or the bus.

The drivers themselves do not even know the names of many of the streets on their routes. I also question just how literate they are, as they tend to identify their routes by landmarks. And as I’ve said before, street and traffic signs mean nothing to them.

By nature I am a people watcher. People come onto the bus carrying everything from babies to birds. They are dressed in jeans, suits and long gowns. They are students, professionals and laborers. They speak languages other than Spanish. They talk on cell phones, text, play music and watch movies on their phones. People are very friendly and never too tired to say “Buenos dias.”

So despite the craziness and the dangers involved in riding the buses here, they are still my preferred means of transport. I would never consider attempting to drive here. This is a city where lines on the road and traffic signals have no meaning. The lack of rules makes driving here rather precarious. The volume of traffic is nowhere close to being accommodated here by the infrastructure. Drivers here are aggressive and impatient, and I would much rather be on a large bus than in a car or a taxi if a crash should occur.

One of my housemates just returned from Centro and has informed us that once again the streets are blocked off. Another protest? I hope not. Regardless, I will be back on the buses again tomorrow.