Excerpt from 50 Minute Radio Broadcast
Radio de Universidad de Aguacalientes (94.5 FM)
May 15th, 2007
Interview with Susana Escobido of Chacala, Nayarit.
I have been a business woman all my life. As I would sit at my desk on a Sunday evening, paying bills and writing checks to this charity and that, I would say to myself, “when am I going to actively give back to those who have less opportunities than I?” I saw the world as humans equal to each other, the only separation was the amount of opportunities. Enter my sister, Judy, who was battling breast cancer. A more talented woman there was not. She was going to spend her golden years taking Judith Anderson Puppets on the road, a grandma puppeteer. She did not get the chance, but as she lay dying at age 51, I made her a legacy. I would take her work forward into the world of children. We sold our home, our material treasures and started forth on an adventure in a second-hand travel trailer. I gathered Judy's puppets, my roller-blades, craft materials and set forth for Mexico. Once in Mexico, I used the different plazas as my venues, difficult locations for theater and education. And then one day, we traveled through the canopy of trees to lush Chacala Bay. I discovered a small library built by a Rotarian, Dale Reinhardt, from North Carolina. I opened the locked doors and knew that I had found my destiny. Within three months I went from 2 children to 40, hungry to participate in my after-school program.
Several years went by as I gathered a staff, volunteers, educational material, toys for all ages, craft classes, sports equipment and ingredients for live theater. We had fun, but we were poor as Poncie and I provided almost the sole financial support. Often visitors would arrive. I would give them a tour and tell the story, hoping one day someone would take us into their hearts. And it happened in the form of another Rotary Club, this time from Kalispell, Montana. With their validation, in three years, Berkeley California Rotary added a second floor, a tool lending library, a hot-lunch cafeteria, and a new primary school bathroom. Other Rotary Clubs re-built the secondary school and kindergarten. Our library was named the Dale Reinhardt Learning Center.
During the early years, I saw smart kids dropping out of my programs, they had finished public education in Chacala, at age thirteen or fourteen. Another volunteer, Mariana Day and I vowed to raise scholarship money so that we could send children to high school in surrounding larger towns. We asked all edible, interested students to bring me a file with an essay, their grades and their teacher's recommendation. Thirteen students presented me with their files. While I was in the U.S, Mariana and I raised money equal to two scholarships. I proudly called our learning center administrator. Before I could speak she proudly told me that all thirteen had enrolled in school, on our credit! Somehow the money for the other eleven students appeared. Six year later we have 30 students enrolled in high school, technical high school, several universities and two colleges.
Cambiando Vidas (www.chacala.org) became a non-profit U.S. organization six years ago. We now have a board of directors with Mariana as President and Ana Getzoff as secretary and an excellent staff. My primary goal is to help raise visibility and money. I found that while I was not a puppeteer nor had never been a teacher like my sister, I was still a business woman who can facilitate, network and create opportunities for children.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday, May 7, 2007
"Mexico's Pacific Coast Beckons Retirees"
By Tom Carter
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
April 1, 2007
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
April 1, 2007
CHACALA, Mexico -- Retired U.S. soccer executive Gordon Preston has no regrets about retiring to Mexico.
Standing on his third-floor patio, overlooking the turquoise blue Pacific Ocean, coconut palms swaying in the gentle breeze, he sipped his Pacifico beer, chuckled and shook his head.
"No, I can't think of a single downside," said Mr. Preston, surveying the comfortable three-bedroom, three-bath home he had built and furnished for less than $100,000. "I feel at home here like nowhere else."
Mr. Preston is a retired Detroit executive with the now-defunct North American Soccer League who helped bring the World Cup to the United States in 1994. He first visited Mexico on soccer business 17 years ago and then started spending winters in Chacala, 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta.
He and his wife, Nancy Lehocky, are two of the estimated 1 million Americans and Canadians living in Mexico at any given time.
Mexico's laws were revamped in 1994 to make it easier for foreigners to invest in Mexican real estate and buy second homes, creating a building boom as "gringos" from the north flock to the white sand beaches of the south.
Although foreigners still have to negotiate some legal hurdles, the population along the coast is growing -- swelling exponentially after Christmas, when harsh winds, cold and snow rake El Norte and "snowbirds " from Canada and the United States head south for the winter, to bask on the beaches and sip margaritas in the near-perfect weather -- sunny 80-degree days with no humidity and 60-degree nights -- that bless coastal Mexico in winter.
BUILDING BOOM
Like the campers currently parked on the beach, Mr. Preston started out in a tricked-out recreational vehicle. And like many U.S. retirees south of the border, Mr. Preston maintains a "summer" home in the United States. But seven years ago, he bought a piece of prime real estate on the hill overlooking the small fishing village and its two scenic bays. He started building three years ago.
"We drive down before Thanksgiving and go back in April or May. But I may spend the summer here this year," he said. "Hopefully, my kids and grandkids will get this someday."
Many second-home settlers first visited for a resort vacation, returned for longer stays in recreational vehicles and then started buying.
"My biggest mistake when I came here 11 years ago was not buying everything I could. If I won a million dollars today, I'd invest it all right here," said Harvey Craig, a fast-talking, retired Canadian tool-and-die maker, reborn as a real estate broker and developer in Sayulita, a booming surfing village between Chacala and Puerto Vallarta.
"I don't know anyone who ever bought property here who didn't make money. ... Moving here was absolutely the best decision I ever made in my life." As a result of Mexico's legal changes that protect foreign investment, the sheer volume and intensity of major and minor construction on the coast, especially along "Costa Vallarta" -- the 100 miles of coastal villages north of Puerto Vallarta to San Blas -- is difficult to fathom.
Dozens of giant billboards line the highways going in and out of Puerto Vallarta -- advertising condominiums for sale, pre-sale offers, luxury oceanfront villas on golf courses -- Nuevo Vallarta, Punta Mita, Marina Vallarta and La Cruz de Hunacaxtle.
The Puerto Vallarta airport is expanding to accommodate the ever-growing number of nonstop jumbos flying in from Alaska, Chicago, New York, Houston, Vancouver, Toronto, Dallas and Atlanta.
Day and night, 18-wheelers navigate Mexico's highways, unpaved dusty back roads, and village cobblestones, filled with concrete, brick, rebar, copper, roofing tiles, and other building materials. Much of it is destined for gated communities filled with second homes, where modest two-bedroom homes start at about $400,000 and increase to $2 million and well beyond. In some places it seems as though every house on every block is undergoing remodeling or add-ons.
The Mexican government recently announced plans to spend millions improving highways and water and sewerage facilities in the region. One of the first projects, a large sewage- and water-treatment facility in Higuera Blanca-Litibu, on the coast between Punta Mita and Sayulita, is under construction. Sayulita's modern new sewage-treatment plant is scheduled to begin operating this winter.
In early February, Front Porch Development Co. in partnership with Mexico firm Grupo Krone, announced it will develop "Luma," an "active adult" retirement community in Nuevo Vallarta, 15 minutes north of the Puerto Vallarta airport. When completed, Luma -- which is being built exclusively for the over-50 set -- will have 400 residences starting at $400,000 and topping out at around $1.2 million.
Not to be outdone, the Related Group Inc. of Miami, the largest builder of luxury condominiums in the United States, announced recently that it would build $1 billion worth of property in Mexico in the next two years, much of it north of Puerto Vallarta. Beachfront condominiums that cost $300 a square foot in Puerto Vallarta would sell for $1,500 a square foot in Los Angeles or San Diego, according to Bloomberg News.
Stewart International, one of several companies selling title insurance for foreign investors, has insured between $3 billion and $4 billion worth of property in Mexico, mostly in second homes for American and Canadian buyers, since 2001.
"Buying property in Mexico is safe, with competent legal counsel and title insurance," said Michael Skalka, chief executive of Stewart International.
And GMAC International Mortgage announced in December that it would be the first U.S. lender to offer 30-year fixed-rate mortgages for second and retirement homes in Mexico, at 8.75 percent.
LAND RUSH
Housing prices in Mexico are skyrocketing with the building boom.
Two years ago, the cheapest lot in the Marina Chacala gated community next to Chacala cost $100,000. A similar lot today is on the block for $200,000.
"I didn't want to, but I had to buy [my $175,000 town house behind the Puerto Vallarta Wal-Mart] now," said Paul Werner of North Vale, N.J., who has been wintering in Mexico for three years and has watched prices double in that time. "I would not have been able to afford it in three years. They say my house appreciated $40,000 the day I signed my contract."
A beachfront bed-and-breakfast in Sayulita that was bought for $75,000 seven years ago is currently listed for $1.6 million. It is all but impossible to buy a small lot for less than $50,000. And ocean-view lots, even in out-of-the-way places such as Chacala, which two or three years ago sold for $20,000, now start at $60,000 to $75,000. Building a home costs between $60 to $100 a square foot.
Michel Peretiako and Cheryl Watts, of Kalispell, Mont., who spend four or five months each winter in Chacala, rent a room with a bath and kitchen at Casa Concha, a small inn run by Concha Garcia Velazquez, for ethical reasons.
"We'd rather pay a Mexican owner and put our money into the Mexican economy, rather than buying a piece of property or paying the mortgage of some gringo who bought a second home here but lives in Colorado," Mrs. Watts said.
"We know Chacala is going to change, but we come from an area [in Montana] where the locals have been priced out by rich investors. We'd rather see Mexican families make the money, so they can stay here."
Still, the Mexican coast is cheap compared with the U.S.
According to the March-April 2004 issue of AARP magazine, "For 600 bucks a month, retirees in Mexico can [rent] a three-bedroom home, with a gardener. For a cool thousand well, you won't believe it."
Rod Rosile, a California surfer turned real estate entrepreneur, agreed.
"This place will ruin you. It is inexpensive, and the people are so nice. Spend any time here and you won't want to go back," said Mr. Rosile, who has a home in Sayulita and is building another one in Marina Chacala.
With so much construction, like the massive developments going up on either side of Chacala, it feels like a land rush.
"I compare it to the Wild West, only instead of Conestoga wagons, the settlers are coming in RVs," said Mindy Christie, of Modesto, Calif., who retired from 35 years of teaching last year and moved to Mexico.
Mrs. Christie, and her husband, Ralph, a Spanish teacher, sold their home in Modesto last year, but have been renting in Chacala since November. They live on a budget of about $2,500 a month.
"We did not want the stress of homeownership in Mexico, and for what we are renting for, it made sense for us," said Mr. Christie, occasionally glancing up to check the score of the Florida-Vanderbilt basketball game on ESPN, beamed to his living room by satellite.
Instead, they have the stress of heavy trucks constantly lumbering by out front and construction on three sides of their rental home.
"We came down here expecting to read and write and relaxing in a small, quiet Mexican village, but Chacala is on the edge of a boom," Mrs. Christie said.
Mr. Christie's only criticism about Mexico: It is hard to find "decent wine" beyond Chilean in the $10 to $15 a bottle range.
Some expats complain about Mexico's "manana" culture. Foreigners quickly learn that when a Mexican says he'll do it "manana," it does not mean "tomorrow," it just means "not today."
Others don't like the culture of petty corruption and bribes. For example, the traffic police are poorly paid, and it is standard procedure to slip the cop who has pulled you over $20 or so, to get out of a traffic ticket.
But most go with the flow.
"It is Mexico. It is a different country. If you don't like the way they do things, don't come," Mrs. Watts said.
INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS
Mrs.Watts and Mr. Peretiako are regularly invited to Chacala weddings and baby christenings.
"We know Concha's nieces and nephews and sons, her whole family," Mrs. Watts said.
She and her husband, who have traveled all over the world, said that based on seven winters in Chacala, she finds the Mexican people are warm and welcoming.
"I wish Americans treated Mexicans as well as Mexicans treat Americans," she said.
Mr. Craig said relations between Mexican locals and newly retired Canadians and Americans who have transformed Sayulita are excellent.
"There may be some resentment, but most Mexicans seem to be very happy with the changes. This was a very poor village 25 years ago and a lot of locals have made a lot of money with the influx of gringos. Look out on the streets, there are a lot of expensive new trucks being driven by Mexicans out there," he said.
Expatriates do not seem too concerned that Mexico might elect a socialist president, like Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.
"You know what, I looked at [the political situation in] Venezuela before I bought. They don't know if their property will be taken," said Jim Campbell, a retired computer executive from Boston who recently bought a home in Sayulita.
"What if [Andres Manuel Lopez] Obrador, rather than [Mexican President Felipe] Calderon had won, I thought about that. But I think Mexico is too far along, oil, American tourists, too integrated into the U.S. economy to go the way of Venezuela. NAFTA and globalization make that unlikely," he said.
The Mexican government has no desire to interrupt the flow of tourist and retiree dollars from the United States.
"At the Mexico Tourism Board, we are focused on travel to Mexico, not precisely promoting real estate, but we have discovered a lot of interest in that area," said Eduardo Chaillo, Mexico's tourism director for North America, noting that tourism, after oil, is Mexico's second most important economic engine, at about $10 billion a year.
"We are focused on the 50-plus market, the baby-boomer segment, not kids and spring breakers. We are conscious of the power of the money that baby boomers have."
AMERICAN STYLE LIVING
Mr. Campbell, who retired 14 years ago from Data General in Westborough, Mass., recently bought a three-bedroom, 2-- bath home two blocks from Sayulita's surfing beach.
"I resolved when I left Boston that I'd never live in that climate again," Mr. Campbell said. He spent a few years in California before settling in Santa Fe, N.M., and now Sayulita.
"Feel that breeze. It would be 95 degrees in Oaxaca by now. The climate is wonderful, less tropical than farther south. It is the same time zone as Santa Fe. It is a new house, totally furnished. There was a clear title the light just went on," he said.
He noted that Puerto Vallarta, just 35 minutes from Sayulita unless slow-moving construction trucks clog the two-lane highway has a Sam's Club and Wal-Mart, for American-style shopping.
Mr. Campbell said he and his wife are still trying to figure out if they need to buy a car, and if they want to wire the house for high-speed Internet. His XM Satellite receiver works, and he is using his American cell phone and local Internet cafes to keep in touch with his family and read the daily newspapers.
Being 67 and having some health concerns, Mr. Campbell said he researched local health care facilities before taking the plunge.
"Puerto Vallarta has two American-style hospitals with American-trained doctors. There is a nice medical facility in [the next village up the coast at] San Pancho. And if needed, I can always jump on an airplane back to the United States," he said. "I've had no buyer's remorse at all."
The Christies echoed that sentiment.
"I saw a cardiologist in Puerto Vallarta last week. She was American trained and spent 45 minutes with me. It cost $50. I'd trust her in any situation. You rarely get that kind of attention in the United States," Mr. Christie said.
Mr. Campbell said while American newspapers are filled with Mexico's crime and drug problems, he feels safe.
"There may be problems in some of the border states, but I feel safe walking around Sayulita after dark," he said.
Mrs. Watts in Chacala agreed.
"I feel much safer in a Mexican bus station than I ever would in an American one," she said. "The people [at home] concerned about safety in Mexico have never been here."
As for water, many of the communities along the Pacific Vallarta coast are putting in new water and sewage plants, and expats as well as Mexicans in Chacala and Sayulita said they "could" drink the water from the tap, but most stuck with bottled water.
"We drink bottled water here, just like we do in Canada," said Mr. Craig, who is a central character in the recently published "Gringos in Paradise" written by Barry Golson, a former "Playboy" and "TV Guide" publishing executive, whose new book chronicles retiring and building a house in Sayulita. Retirees said their family and friends were horrified that they were retiring to Mexico. But they were beginning to change their minds. "Everyone we know thinks we are crazy," Mr. Werner said.
The Christies agreed.
"My 86-year-old mother was aghast. Most of our friends thought we were out of our minds, but they'd never been here," Mrs. Christie said. "Now they are coming to visit and cannot believe how wonderful Mexico is."
Standing on his third-floor patio, overlooking the turquoise blue Pacific Ocean, coconut palms swaying in the gentle breeze, he sipped his Pacifico beer, chuckled and shook his head.
"No, I can't think of a single downside," said Mr. Preston, surveying the comfortable three-bedroom, three-bath home he had built and furnished for less than $100,000. "I feel at home here like nowhere else."
Mr. Preston is a retired Detroit executive with the now-defunct North American Soccer League who helped bring the World Cup to the United States in 1994. He first visited Mexico on soccer business 17 years ago and then started spending winters in Chacala, 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta.
He and his wife, Nancy Lehocky, are two of the estimated 1 million Americans and Canadians living in Mexico at any given time.
Mexico's laws were revamped in 1994 to make it easier for foreigners to invest in Mexican real estate and buy second homes, creating a building boom as "gringos" from the north flock to the white sand beaches of the south.
Although foreigners still have to negotiate some legal hurdles, the population along the coast is growing -- swelling exponentially after Christmas, when harsh winds, cold and snow rake El Norte and "snowbirds " from Canada and the United States head south for the winter, to bask on the beaches and sip margaritas in the near-perfect weather -- sunny 80-degree days with no humidity and 60-degree nights -- that bless coastal Mexico in winter.
BUILDING BOOM
Like the campers currently parked on the beach, Mr. Preston started out in a tricked-out recreational vehicle. And like many U.S. retirees south of the border, Mr. Preston maintains a "summer" home in the United States. But seven years ago, he bought a piece of prime real estate on the hill overlooking the small fishing village and its two scenic bays. He started building three years ago.
"We drive down before Thanksgiving and go back in April or May. But I may spend the summer here this year," he said. "Hopefully, my kids and grandkids will get this someday."
Many second-home settlers first visited for a resort vacation, returned for longer stays in recreational vehicles and then started buying.
"My biggest mistake when I came here 11 years ago was not buying everything I could. If I won a million dollars today, I'd invest it all right here," said Harvey Craig, a fast-talking, retired Canadian tool-and-die maker, reborn as a real estate broker and developer in Sayulita, a booming surfing village between Chacala and Puerto Vallarta.
"I don't know anyone who ever bought property here who didn't make money. ... Moving here was absolutely the best decision I ever made in my life." As a result of Mexico's legal changes that protect foreign investment, the sheer volume and intensity of major and minor construction on the coast, especially along "Costa Vallarta" -- the 100 miles of coastal villages north of Puerto Vallarta to San Blas -- is difficult to fathom.
Dozens of giant billboards line the highways going in and out of Puerto Vallarta -- advertising condominiums for sale, pre-sale offers, luxury oceanfront villas on golf courses -- Nuevo Vallarta, Punta Mita, Marina Vallarta and La Cruz de Hunacaxtle.
The Puerto Vallarta airport is expanding to accommodate the ever-growing number of nonstop jumbos flying in from Alaska, Chicago, New York, Houston, Vancouver, Toronto, Dallas and Atlanta.
Day and night, 18-wheelers navigate Mexico's highways, unpaved dusty back roads, and village cobblestones, filled with concrete, brick, rebar, copper, roofing tiles, and other building materials. Much of it is destined for gated communities filled with second homes, where modest two-bedroom homes start at about $400,000 and increase to $2 million and well beyond. In some places it seems as though every house on every block is undergoing remodeling or add-ons.
The Mexican government recently announced plans to spend millions improving highways and water and sewerage facilities in the region. One of the first projects, a large sewage- and water-treatment facility in Higuera Blanca-Litibu, on the coast between Punta Mita and Sayulita, is under construction. Sayulita's modern new sewage-treatment plant is scheduled to begin operating this winter.
In early February, Front Porch Development Co. in partnership with Mexico firm Grupo Krone, announced it will develop "Luma," an "active adult" retirement community in Nuevo Vallarta, 15 minutes north of the Puerto Vallarta airport. When completed, Luma -- which is being built exclusively for the over-50 set -- will have 400 residences starting at $400,000 and topping out at around $1.2 million.
Not to be outdone, the Related Group Inc. of Miami, the largest builder of luxury condominiums in the United States, announced recently that it would build $1 billion worth of property in Mexico in the next two years, much of it north of Puerto Vallarta. Beachfront condominiums that cost $300 a square foot in Puerto Vallarta would sell for $1,500 a square foot in Los Angeles or San Diego, according to Bloomberg News.
Stewart International, one of several companies selling title insurance for foreign investors, has insured between $3 billion and $4 billion worth of property in Mexico, mostly in second homes for American and Canadian buyers, since 2001.
"Buying property in Mexico is safe, with competent legal counsel and title insurance," said Michael Skalka, chief executive of Stewart International.
And GMAC International Mortgage announced in December that it would be the first U.S. lender to offer 30-year fixed-rate mortgages for second and retirement homes in Mexico, at 8.75 percent.
LAND RUSH
Housing prices in Mexico are skyrocketing with the building boom.
Two years ago, the cheapest lot in the Marina Chacala gated community next to Chacala cost $100,000. A similar lot today is on the block for $200,000.
"I didn't want to, but I had to buy [my $175,000 town house behind the Puerto Vallarta Wal-Mart] now," said Paul Werner of North Vale, N.J., who has been wintering in Mexico for three years and has watched prices double in that time. "I would not have been able to afford it in three years. They say my house appreciated $40,000 the day I signed my contract."
A beachfront bed-and-breakfast in Sayulita that was bought for $75,000 seven years ago is currently listed for $1.6 million. It is all but impossible to buy a small lot for less than $50,000. And ocean-view lots, even in out-of-the-way places such as Chacala, which two or three years ago sold for $20,000, now start at $60,000 to $75,000. Building a home costs between $60 to $100 a square foot.
Michel Peretiako and Cheryl Watts, of Kalispell, Mont., who spend four or five months each winter in Chacala, rent a room with a bath and kitchen at Casa Concha, a small inn run by Concha Garcia Velazquez, for ethical reasons.
"We'd rather pay a Mexican owner and put our money into the Mexican economy, rather than buying a piece of property or paying the mortgage of some gringo who bought a second home here but lives in Colorado," Mrs. Watts said.
"We know Chacala is going to change, but we come from an area [in Montana] where the locals have been priced out by rich investors. We'd rather see Mexican families make the money, so they can stay here."
Still, the Mexican coast is cheap compared with the U.S.
According to the March-April 2004 issue of AARP magazine, "For 600 bucks a month, retirees in Mexico can [rent] a three-bedroom home, with a gardener. For a cool thousand well, you won't believe it."
Rod Rosile, a California surfer turned real estate entrepreneur, agreed.
"This place will ruin you. It is inexpensive, and the people are so nice. Spend any time here and you won't want to go back," said Mr. Rosile, who has a home in Sayulita and is building another one in Marina Chacala.
With so much construction, like the massive developments going up on either side of Chacala, it feels like a land rush.
"I compare it to the Wild West, only instead of Conestoga wagons, the settlers are coming in RVs," said Mindy Christie, of Modesto, Calif., who retired from 35 years of teaching last year and moved to Mexico.
Mrs. Christie, and her husband, Ralph, a Spanish teacher, sold their home in Modesto last year, but have been renting in Chacala since November. They live on a budget of about $2,500 a month.
"We did not want the stress of homeownership in Mexico, and for what we are renting for, it made sense for us," said Mr. Christie, occasionally glancing up to check the score of the Florida-Vanderbilt basketball game on ESPN, beamed to his living room by satellite.
Instead, they have the stress of heavy trucks constantly lumbering by out front and construction on three sides of their rental home.
"We came down here expecting to read and write and relaxing in a small, quiet Mexican village, but Chacala is on the edge of a boom," Mrs. Christie said.
Mr. Christie's only criticism about Mexico: It is hard to find "decent wine" beyond Chilean in the $10 to $15 a bottle range.
Some expats complain about Mexico's "manana" culture. Foreigners quickly learn that when a Mexican says he'll do it "manana," it does not mean "tomorrow," it just means "not today."
Others don't like the culture of petty corruption and bribes. For example, the traffic police are poorly paid, and it is standard procedure to slip the cop who has pulled you over $20 or so, to get out of a traffic ticket.
But most go with the flow.
"It is Mexico. It is a different country. If you don't like the way they do things, don't come," Mrs. Watts said.
INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS
Mrs.Watts and Mr. Peretiako are regularly invited to Chacala weddings and baby christenings.
"We know Concha's nieces and nephews and sons, her whole family," Mrs. Watts said.
She and her husband, who have traveled all over the world, said that based on seven winters in Chacala, she finds the Mexican people are warm and welcoming.
"I wish Americans treated Mexicans as well as Mexicans treat Americans," she said.
Mr. Craig said relations between Mexican locals and newly retired Canadians and Americans who have transformed Sayulita are excellent.
"There may be some resentment, but most Mexicans seem to be very happy with the changes. This was a very poor village 25 years ago and a lot of locals have made a lot of money with the influx of gringos. Look out on the streets, there are a lot of expensive new trucks being driven by Mexicans out there," he said.
Expatriates do not seem too concerned that Mexico might elect a socialist president, like Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.
"You know what, I looked at [the political situation in] Venezuela before I bought. They don't know if their property will be taken," said Jim Campbell, a retired computer executive from Boston who recently bought a home in Sayulita.
"What if [Andres Manuel Lopez] Obrador, rather than [Mexican President Felipe] Calderon had won, I thought about that. But I think Mexico is too far along, oil, American tourists, too integrated into the U.S. economy to go the way of Venezuela. NAFTA and globalization make that unlikely," he said.
The Mexican government has no desire to interrupt the flow of tourist and retiree dollars from the United States.
"At the Mexico Tourism Board, we are focused on travel to Mexico, not precisely promoting real estate, but we have discovered a lot of interest in that area," said Eduardo Chaillo, Mexico's tourism director for North America, noting that tourism, after oil, is Mexico's second most important economic engine, at about $10 billion a year.
"We are focused on the 50-plus market, the baby-boomer segment, not kids and spring breakers. We are conscious of the power of the money that baby boomers have."
AMERICAN STYLE LIVING
Mr. Campbell, who retired 14 years ago from Data General in Westborough, Mass., recently bought a three-bedroom, 2-- bath home two blocks from Sayulita's surfing beach.
"I resolved when I left Boston that I'd never live in that climate again," Mr. Campbell said. He spent a few years in California before settling in Santa Fe, N.M., and now Sayulita.
"Feel that breeze. It would be 95 degrees in Oaxaca by now. The climate is wonderful, less tropical than farther south. It is the same time zone as Santa Fe. It is a new house, totally furnished. There was a clear title the light just went on," he said.
He noted that Puerto Vallarta, just 35 minutes from Sayulita unless slow-moving construction trucks clog the two-lane highway has a Sam's Club and Wal-Mart, for American-style shopping.
Mr. Campbell said he and his wife are still trying to figure out if they need to buy a car, and if they want to wire the house for high-speed Internet. His XM Satellite receiver works, and he is using his American cell phone and local Internet cafes to keep in touch with his family and read the daily newspapers.
Being 67 and having some health concerns, Mr. Campbell said he researched local health care facilities before taking the plunge.
"Puerto Vallarta has two American-style hospitals with American-trained doctors. There is a nice medical facility in [the next village up the coast at] San Pancho. And if needed, I can always jump on an airplane back to the United States," he said. "I've had no buyer's remorse at all."
The Christies echoed that sentiment.
"I saw a cardiologist in Puerto Vallarta last week. She was American trained and spent 45 minutes with me. It cost $50. I'd trust her in any situation. You rarely get that kind of attention in the United States," Mr. Christie said.
Mr. Campbell said while American newspapers are filled with Mexico's crime and drug problems, he feels safe.
"There may be problems in some of the border states, but I feel safe walking around Sayulita after dark," he said.
Mrs. Watts in Chacala agreed.
"I feel much safer in a Mexican bus station than I ever would in an American one," she said. "The people [at home] concerned about safety in Mexico have never been here."
As for water, many of the communities along the Pacific Vallarta coast are putting in new water and sewage plants, and expats as well as Mexicans in Chacala and Sayulita said they "could" drink the water from the tap, but most stuck with bottled water.
"We drink bottled water here, just like we do in Canada," said Mr. Craig, who is a central character in the recently published "Gringos in Paradise" written by Barry Golson, a former "Playboy" and "TV Guide" publishing executive, whose new book chronicles retiring and building a house in Sayulita. Retirees said their family and friends were horrified that they were retiring to Mexico. But they were beginning to change their minds. "Everyone we know thinks we are crazy," Mr. Werner said.
The Christies agreed.
"My 86-year-old mother was aghast. Most of our friends thought we were out of our minds, but they'd never been here," Mrs. Christie said. "Now they are coming to visit and cannot believe how wonderful Mexico is."
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Cambiando Vidas Newsletter
NOTICIAS DE CHACALA, NOVEMBER 2006
Chacala is growing and thriving beyond belief. Mariana will be heading down in just a few weeks to resume her role as President of the Board of Cambiando Vidas, and work like crazy for several months in the Learning Center, revising programs, consulting with Viky, meeting with the kids, and making sure our scholarship students get what they need.
LEARNING CENTER NEWS
Since August, the children have been back in school and the Dale Reinhardt Learning Center is busy and noisy with the sounds of children working and playing. Isacc is still working with the kids every day after school. We are so blessed to have him.Viky, Alonso, Jamie and Carlos wished to continue with their English class when they ended in Chacala last year, so they have been going to Las Varas on Saturdays to study with our English teacher, Trudy. Viky is working with Trudy to start a regular class again at the Learning Center.“CHACALA LIMPIO” (Project for a clean Chacala)There is a terrific push to create a clean Chacala. Viky, our friend, Jose Enrique, owner of Mahajua Resort, the scholarship kids (EBACH), Mariana, and our good friend Chad Waters, who has financed most of this, have a new plan to not only collect and recycle plastics but to promote a regular program within the community. The kids are going door-to-door, street by street to get the recycling program off the ground.In conjunction with an annual Mexico-wide program, the Primary kids made up teams and greeted each visiting car and bus and passed out information about keeping Chacala clean. They gave each family a garbage bag to collect their trash and instructions for putting it in the large cans that have been placed around the beach area. Once again the Primary kids have won the 1st prize in the plastic recycling contest, a competition of all the rural schools started by Nayarit Governor Ney, who also started the "Guardian" program with the primary kids. The 10,000 pesos prize will be used to pay for continuing garbage removal in Chacala.This program is now being used in conjunction with EBACH's participation in the "Chacala Limpio" program. We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Chad Waters for his commitment to creating a clean town, and his generous donations to make this program happen. We also want to thank Tushar Atre for his contributions to the sweeping program.
A SPECIAL STUDENT
Yesica is a bright 14-year-old, who hasn’t been able to attend much school in her young life. She is the only girl in a family of five, who came to Chacala the year of Hurricane Kenna and lost everything when their beach home was demolished. They returned to Zacatecas for a short time, then came back to Chacala and began rebuilding their home. The mom went to work as a cook, and Yesica was kept at home another year to care for the baby. The dad tried to earn money from fishing, which is very hard for a newcomer. Yesica caught the eye of visiting Canadians, Sher and Jon Alcock, of Sunshine Farms in Kelowna,B.C.Yesica returned to school, was included in E.B.A.C.H and their activities, and Viky has taught her how to use the internet so she could communicate with her donors and friends in Canada.Since she came into the scholarship program, she has been on an accelerated program to finish Primary, and finished in an amazing four months. She is now in Secondary school, which will put her nearer her age group. Viky reports that Yesica should be able to complete Secundaria in two years (6-8th grades) and then go on to high school. The government of Mexico has a program in which students who have not been able to attend regular school can work their way through workbooks for each grade level. and move at their own pace. Viky is in this same program working at the High School level.Viky has taken Yesica into Las Varas to get fresh uniforms and supplies. so she was ready for the transition. This is an example of the tender, loving care the students get from Viky, and demonstrates how generous donors make a real difference in the lives of the children of Chacala.
CAMBIANDO VIDAS SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAM
29 students are currently in the scholarship program. Five of our kids are at University (Arturo, Carolina, Candelario, Gerardo, and Gustavo), eleven in high school in Las Varas and La Peñita (Alonso, Angelita, Antonelly, Beto U, Chuy, Ernesto, Karina, Sofia, Ramon, Raul and Teresa), seven are at secundaria in Las Varas (Erika, Mariel, Monica, Nena, Olivia, Leti and Pedro), three at Chacala Telesecundaria (Gustavo de Trini, Javier, and Yesica).Beto Munoz graduated from high school has taken several university level classes but has chosen to go into the family business instead of pursuing a university degree. He is still active in EBACH and serves as Vice President of the student club, E.B.A.C.H. His sponsors, Dave & Linda Allen, now sponsor his youngest sister, Leti, who just started Secondaria in Las Varas.During the 2006-07 school year Gerardo will be in his second year at the University of Tepic and Carolina in her first year. Gustavo is in Puerto Vallarta and Arturo is in Neuvo Vallarta, both in their second year. Candelario will be graduating in December 2006, our first student to graduate from University. We are very proud of all their achievements. While in university each student requires $200 a month for 10 months of the year, or about $8,000 for the year. We are so grateful for the generous donors who have make this possible.While at University, Carolina is also enrolled in the "big learning school" in Tepic which is an accelerated and intense English program. They claim that in one year Carolina will be speaking English fluently. The cost is $1300 US for the 365 days of class. Carolina is getting a special scholarship student rate to introduce this new school to Cambiando Vidas. Carolina hopes to study in the U.S. someday.Next year, 2007-08, we'll have Ramon, Antonelly, Ernesto & Teresa ready for University. giving us a total of 8 students in University. When we reflect back just a few years when only a few of the children in Chacala went to high school and most left school after 6th grade, we are so amazed. We know our loyal donors will come through and help make this happen.Costs for the high school students are still $720 USD a year, $360 of which is transportation to and from Las Varas and the balance is for tuition, uniforms and school supplies. If you have a student studying locally in Chacala, who does not require $720, please know that your donation helps pay for the extra costs of the University students as well as all the programs and expenses in the Learning Center. We count on that extra money as not all donors can pay the entire expense incurred by their student, and, as you know, legally, all the money donated must be held on one big pot and distributed according the the needs of the program. It cannot legally be earmarked for a particular student.We try to supply our students with all the necessary tools to be successful. Cambiando Vidas has a charge account open for our scholarship students at a local papeleria where they can get whatever school supplies they need, and Viky is always near in case there is something that needs to be purchased in Puerto Vallarta such as scientific calculators which are not available locally.
NEWS FROM EBACH
(Estudiantes Becados Agradecidos de Chacala, or Grateful Scholarship Students of Chacala)The Scholarship students are still doing a fine job of running their club. They are doing their community service, and have collaborated with others to make the garbage program successful. Alonso is a very strong and well respected leader. Antonelly, Beto and Monica round out the leadership team of EBACH.The club held a Dia de las Brujas (Day of the Dead/Witches) costume party, which was a great success. Sofia won the 200 peso prize for the best costume (portraying a dead person).In August, the EBACH students, took their second Cultural trip, this time to Morelia. 23 students and 8 adults. The trip was paid for by Cambiando Vidas and its donors. The following account of the trip was written, in English, by Maria Antonelly Romero Guerra:“We took a trip to Morelia, thanks to Cambiando Vidas and its donors. E.B.A.CH. says, “thanks very much.”We met in front of Viky’s house at eight o’clock in the morning. When we were all there, we left for Morelia. In the bus we spoke all the way. But when we were tired we were silent and we slept. Sometime we stopped because we wanted to eat.When we arrived in Morelia, we saw the aqueduct. It is really big. We visited the abstract art museum and we played and rested in the park.A place more wonderful we visited was Janitzio. This is an island and is similar to Chacala, because we needed a longboat to get there. In Janitzio, the traditional fish is the “charal”. On the wharf of Janitzio is the commerce, and the people are nice and modest. We spend all day in Janitzio. We were very well. We took so many photos in Janitzio, because it is beautiful!!When we returned we were tired, but we all wanted to know Morelia!!In the hotel, the boys swam in the swimming pool, and even though the water was warm, the boys were cold.The days we were in Morelia were cool, very nice.We learned so much about the culture and the people in Morelia.And the most important thing is that we learned about a place that we don’t know before!!Finally, I would like to do a commentary about why we couldn’t go to Oaxaca, and decided to go to Morelia instead. In Oaxaca the teachers are on strike, so the schools are closed and the traffic is stopped. So we couldn’t go to that state, as we had planned.Well, I think that is all that I can say, but thanks so much, again.”
ROTARY NEWS
We are so grateful to Kalispell Rotary for their their long time support of the Dale Reinhardt Learning Center and the children of Chacala. Rita Fitzsimmons & Art Thompson have sent 40 plus pairs of brand new tennis shoes to the children of Chacala. Dean Drenk, who came to Chacala with Habitat for Humanity, delivered the shoes to us. It was “Shoe Christmas” for the kids.The Kalispell Club has been there, supporting us, since the very beginning. The following is an excerpt fromThe History of the Chacala Library, recently posted on our web site. . “The original library was founded by Dale Reinhardt and built in 1996 with funds from Rotary International and Rotary North Carolina. A year later, a couple from Kalispell, Montana, Betty and Jim Thompson, visited Chacala & became patrons of the library...Rita Fitzsimmons and Art Thompson, Rotarians from Kalispell have also been working since 1998 to channel funds from their club to the Chacala library, often saving the library from closing its doors.”Our request for new computers is really going well. Viky and Mariana have been collaborating with Berkeley Rotary and others for many months. George Luna from Berkeley Rotary has taken up a casual collection of his members. Since Berkeley Rotary worked in New Orleans this past winter, the New Orleans Club, in gratitude for the help from Berkeley Rotary, added a very generous donation to the computer fund. George and Reg Garcia came to Chacala recently, bought four new computers, and delivered them to the Learning Center. Viky is very excited and says “gracias a nuestro donodores.”Our web site now has the Rotary story 1996-2006. (www.cambiandovidas.org) We also now have PayPal on our web site to make it easier for you to make your donations.
WE NEED YOUR HELP !!!!
You can make a contribution to Cambiando Vidas by mailing a check to Cambiando Vidas, 245 Mt. Hermon Rd., PMB 312, Scotts Valley, Ca. 95066 OR by using PayPal on our web site. THANKS!
CAMBIANDO VIDAS is a charitable organization with United States Internal Revenue Service Ref.: 501 (c) 3 tax -exempt status. EIN 73-1668982=
Chacala is growing and thriving beyond belief. Mariana will be heading down in just a few weeks to resume her role as President of the Board of Cambiando Vidas, and work like crazy for several months in the Learning Center, revising programs, consulting with Viky, meeting with the kids, and making sure our scholarship students get what they need.
LEARNING CENTER NEWS
Since August, the children have been back in school and the Dale Reinhardt Learning Center is busy and noisy with the sounds of children working and playing. Isacc is still working with the kids every day after school. We are so blessed to have him.Viky, Alonso, Jamie and Carlos wished to continue with their English class when they ended in Chacala last year, so they have been going to Las Varas on Saturdays to study with our English teacher, Trudy. Viky is working with Trudy to start a regular class again at the Learning Center.“CHACALA LIMPIO” (Project for a clean Chacala)There is a terrific push to create a clean Chacala. Viky, our friend, Jose Enrique, owner of Mahajua Resort, the scholarship kids (EBACH), Mariana, and our good friend Chad Waters, who has financed most of this, have a new plan to not only collect and recycle plastics but to promote a regular program within the community. The kids are going door-to-door, street by street to get the recycling program off the ground.In conjunction with an annual Mexico-wide program, the Primary kids made up teams and greeted each visiting car and bus and passed out information about keeping Chacala clean. They gave each family a garbage bag to collect their trash and instructions for putting it in the large cans that have been placed around the beach area. Once again the Primary kids have won the 1st prize in the plastic recycling contest, a competition of all the rural schools started by Nayarit Governor Ney, who also started the "Guardian" program with the primary kids. The 10,000 pesos prize will be used to pay for continuing garbage removal in Chacala.This program is now being used in conjunction with EBACH's participation in the "Chacala Limpio" program. We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Chad Waters for his commitment to creating a clean town, and his generous donations to make this program happen. We also want to thank Tushar Atre for his contributions to the sweeping program.
A SPECIAL STUDENT
Yesica is a bright 14-year-old, who hasn’t been able to attend much school in her young life. She is the only girl in a family of five, who came to Chacala the year of Hurricane Kenna and lost everything when their beach home was demolished. They returned to Zacatecas for a short time, then came back to Chacala and began rebuilding their home. The mom went to work as a cook, and Yesica was kept at home another year to care for the baby. The dad tried to earn money from fishing, which is very hard for a newcomer. Yesica caught the eye of visiting Canadians, Sher and Jon Alcock, of Sunshine Farms in Kelowna,B.C.Yesica returned to school, was included in E.B.A.C.H and their activities, and Viky has taught her how to use the internet so she could communicate with her donors and friends in Canada.Since she came into the scholarship program, she has been on an accelerated program to finish Primary, and finished in an amazing four months. She is now in Secondary school, which will put her nearer her age group. Viky reports that Yesica should be able to complete Secundaria in two years (6-8th grades) and then go on to high school. The government of Mexico has a program in which students who have not been able to attend regular school can work their way through workbooks for each grade level. and move at their own pace. Viky is in this same program working at the High School level.Viky has taken Yesica into Las Varas to get fresh uniforms and supplies. so she was ready for the transition. This is an example of the tender, loving care the students get from Viky, and demonstrates how generous donors make a real difference in the lives of the children of Chacala.
CAMBIANDO VIDAS SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAM
29 students are currently in the scholarship program. Five of our kids are at University (Arturo, Carolina, Candelario, Gerardo, and Gustavo), eleven in high school in Las Varas and La Peñita (Alonso, Angelita, Antonelly, Beto U, Chuy, Ernesto, Karina, Sofia, Ramon, Raul and Teresa), seven are at secundaria in Las Varas (Erika, Mariel, Monica, Nena, Olivia, Leti and Pedro), three at Chacala Telesecundaria (Gustavo de Trini, Javier, and Yesica).Beto Munoz graduated from high school has taken several university level classes but has chosen to go into the family business instead of pursuing a university degree. He is still active in EBACH and serves as Vice President of the student club, E.B.A.C.H. His sponsors, Dave & Linda Allen, now sponsor his youngest sister, Leti, who just started Secondaria in Las Varas.During the 2006-07 school year Gerardo will be in his second year at the University of Tepic and Carolina in her first year. Gustavo is in Puerto Vallarta and Arturo is in Neuvo Vallarta, both in their second year. Candelario will be graduating in December 2006, our first student to graduate from University. We are very proud of all their achievements. While in university each student requires $200 a month for 10 months of the year, or about $8,000 for the year. We are so grateful for the generous donors who have make this possible.While at University, Carolina is also enrolled in the "big learning school" in Tepic which is an accelerated and intense English program. They claim that in one year Carolina will be speaking English fluently. The cost is $1300 US for the 365 days of class. Carolina is getting a special scholarship student rate to introduce this new school to Cambiando Vidas. Carolina hopes to study in the U.S. someday.Next year, 2007-08, we'll have Ramon, Antonelly, Ernesto & Teresa ready for University. giving us a total of 8 students in University. When we reflect back just a few years when only a few of the children in Chacala went to high school and most left school after 6th grade, we are so amazed. We know our loyal donors will come through and help make this happen.Costs for the high school students are still $720 USD a year, $360 of which is transportation to and from Las Varas and the balance is for tuition, uniforms and school supplies. If you have a student studying locally in Chacala, who does not require $720, please know that your donation helps pay for the extra costs of the University students as well as all the programs and expenses in the Learning Center. We count on that extra money as not all donors can pay the entire expense incurred by their student, and, as you know, legally, all the money donated must be held on one big pot and distributed according the the needs of the program. It cannot legally be earmarked for a particular student.We try to supply our students with all the necessary tools to be successful. Cambiando Vidas has a charge account open for our scholarship students at a local papeleria where they can get whatever school supplies they need, and Viky is always near in case there is something that needs to be purchased in Puerto Vallarta such as scientific calculators which are not available locally.
NEWS FROM EBACH
(Estudiantes Becados Agradecidos de Chacala, or Grateful Scholarship Students of Chacala)The Scholarship students are still doing a fine job of running their club. They are doing their community service, and have collaborated with others to make the garbage program successful. Alonso is a very strong and well respected leader. Antonelly, Beto and Monica round out the leadership team of EBACH.The club held a Dia de las Brujas (Day of the Dead/Witches) costume party, which was a great success. Sofia won the 200 peso prize for the best costume (portraying a dead person).In August, the EBACH students, took their second Cultural trip, this time to Morelia. 23 students and 8 adults. The trip was paid for by Cambiando Vidas and its donors. The following account of the trip was written, in English, by Maria Antonelly Romero Guerra:“We took a trip to Morelia, thanks to Cambiando Vidas and its donors. E.B.A.CH. says, “thanks very much.”We met in front of Viky’s house at eight o’clock in the morning. When we were all there, we left for Morelia. In the bus we spoke all the way. But when we were tired we were silent and we slept. Sometime we stopped because we wanted to eat.When we arrived in Morelia, we saw the aqueduct. It is really big. We visited the abstract art museum and we played and rested in the park.A place more wonderful we visited was Janitzio. This is an island and is similar to Chacala, because we needed a longboat to get there. In Janitzio, the traditional fish is the “charal”. On the wharf of Janitzio is the commerce, and the people are nice and modest. We spend all day in Janitzio. We were very well. We took so many photos in Janitzio, because it is beautiful!!When we returned we were tired, but we all wanted to know Morelia!!In the hotel, the boys swam in the swimming pool, and even though the water was warm, the boys were cold.The days we were in Morelia were cool, very nice.We learned so much about the culture and the people in Morelia.And the most important thing is that we learned about a place that we don’t know before!!Finally, I would like to do a commentary about why we couldn’t go to Oaxaca, and decided to go to Morelia instead. In Oaxaca the teachers are on strike, so the schools are closed and the traffic is stopped. So we couldn’t go to that state, as we had planned.Well, I think that is all that I can say, but thanks so much, again.”
ROTARY NEWS
We are so grateful to Kalispell Rotary for their their long time support of the Dale Reinhardt Learning Center and the children of Chacala. Rita Fitzsimmons & Art Thompson have sent 40 plus pairs of brand new tennis shoes to the children of Chacala. Dean Drenk, who came to Chacala with Habitat for Humanity, delivered the shoes to us. It was “Shoe Christmas” for the kids.The Kalispell Club has been there, supporting us, since the very beginning. The following is an excerpt fromThe History of the Chacala Library, recently posted on our web site. . “The original library was founded by Dale Reinhardt and built in 1996 with funds from Rotary International and Rotary North Carolina. A year later, a couple from Kalispell, Montana, Betty and Jim Thompson, visited Chacala & became patrons of the library...Rita Fitzsimmons and Art Thompson, Rotarians from Kalispell have also been working since 1998 to channel funds from their club to the Chacala library, often saving the library from closing its doors.”Our request for new computers is really going well. Viky and Mariana have been collaborating with Berkeley Rotary and others for many months. George Luna from Berkeley Rotary has taken up a casual collection of his members. Since Berkeley Rotary worked in New Orleans this past winter, the New Orleans Club, in gratitude for the help from Berkeley Rotary, added a very generous donation to the computer fund. George and Reg Garcia came to Chacala recently, bought four new computers, and delivered them to the Learning Center. Viky is very excited and says “gracias a nuestro donodores.”Our web site now has the Rotary story 1996-2006. (www.cambiandovidas.org) We also now have PayPal on our web site to make it easier for you to make your donations.
WE NEED YOUR HELP !!!!
You can make a contribution to Cambiando Vidas by mailing a check to Cambiando Vidas, 245 Mt. Hermon Rd., PMB 312, Scotts Valley, Ca. 95066 OR by using PayPal on our web site. THANKS!
CAMBIANDO VIDAS is a charitable organization with United States Internal Revenue Service Ref.: 501 (c) 3 tax -exempt status. EIN 73-1668982=
Friday, March 30, 2007
Remember your First time at the the Beach?
Do you remember the first time you ever went to the beach? The excitement you felt running into the ocean for the first time? You can re-live this vicariously on the weekends at Playa Chacala. With the exception of holidays (hordes of humanity), weekends become pleasantly packed with Mexican families, groups of friends or organizations having the most fun you’ll ever see at the beach. These people know how to play and have a genuinely fun time. As musicans stroll from palapa to palapa, five piece orchestras, for a small fee will play your favorite Mexican tune. Sometimes if you are lucky you”ll see a whale or two breach the surface of the water off in the distance. Or jumping fish, better still flocks of pelicans diving for their lunch. The vendors are there too, not too many to be annoying, just enough to do a little shopping. Ice Cream vendors, umbrellas for shade, patates made of straw to sit on, jewelry, ceramic plates, wooden bowls and tattoo vendors all add to the flavor. A cold beer or two and a plate of fresh seafood at any of the palapa restaurants and LIFE IS GOOD! It doesn’t get much better than this! Relive your childhood!
Cheryl from Montana
Cheryl from Montana
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Nervous Nellie vs. Mr. Wing-It
By M.L. Lyke
Special to The Washington PostSunday
March 25, 2007
I never thought of myself as a travel wuss, but there I was, busted, browsing for rentals at an Internet cafe in the little Mexican tourist town of Rincon de Guayabitos.
"Get off!" said my road partner, Bob, the man who loves nothing better than tooling down a Mexican highway on a local bus, prepared for nothing but the next big adventure. No itinerary, no plans, no reservations. That's travel heaven for Mr. Wing-It.
For me, it's travel hell. I'm a need-to-know girl.
We cut a deal. We had two weeks in Mexico to tour the sweet little beach towns north of Puerto Vallarta. The first week, we did it my way, staying at a multi-story villa in the surfing town of Sayulita with three other couples. Our friend Jay -- an uber-organizer who actually logs the contents of his freezer on a computer spreadsheet -- booked the stuccoed manse a year in advance. By Day 2, we were already planning breakfasts and dinners for the rest of the week. We had grocery lists, a book to tally expenses and Jay to work them out to the peso.
It was safe, comfy, predictable, right down to 5 o'clock happy hour. Guacamole, chips, margaritas, every night. The only variable was peanuts.
Everything was under control, including me. I'd taken precautionary antibiotics -- all I have to do is look at a map of Mexico to get turista -- and had an extra-large bottle of spray-on sunscreen. I arose every morning at 9 a.m. to watch the surf heave, crest and break below, then stretched, sipped coffee and lost myself in a novel.
Ahhh. The beauty of routine.
On Day 7, I kissed it all goodbye. It was Bob's turn.
Our friends taxied south to the Puerto Vallarta airport, dropping us off on the side of coastal Highway 200 to catch a bus north to . . . "Where exactly are we going, Bob?"
I believe, as we stood by the road, dusty, sweating in the midday heat, he said, "Trust me."
Maybe it was "Don't worry, be happy."
When the bus finally came, I bumbled on with my duffel and backpack. Old men reached up to help me with the bags. Young girls smiled, patting the seats next to them. "Hola." "Gracias." It was a bath of Mexican goodwill. I tried to relax, but questions niggled the Nervous Nellie inside me as we rattled up the highway on a Saturday afternoon toward Rincon de Guayabitos. It would be weekend, high season, in a hopping tourist beach town. Would there be room at the inn? Or would we end up in some cockroach-infested room with sagging mattresses, stained sheets and a view of the town dump?
Couldn't we just, like, call ahead?
I love planning trips. Browsing online on a gray winter day, I picture myself swinging in a hammock in the exotic Mexican garden spa found on Hotels.com, or catching the warmth of first morning sun through the arched windows of the cliffside condo on Vacation Rentals by Owner.
That's fantasyland to Bob. He likes his investigations on-site, eyeball to keyhole, and that's what we did after we stepped off the bus in Rincon, into the hotel zone. Boy, was I wrong. "Si Vacantes" signs were everywhere along the oceanfront. Nellie had a home for the night.
Our unit at Bungalows Anai, recommended in the guide, wasn't cheap for Mexico -- about $75 a night -- and it wasn't fancy. The light fixtures were crooked, the refrigerator rusted, the faucets oxidized and the glasses chipped. But the place was clean, with air conditioning and fans, and we had a nice view across a manicured garden and a pool to the busy beach, where vendors pedaled bicycle carts full of inflatable water toys and skewered shrimp, and volleyball players set and spiked. Water-bike hot-doggers made roostertails in the surf, the machine whine mingling with the tinkle of ice cream carts and the distant buh-boom of rap blasting from trucks cruising the main drag.
If Sayulita was Laguna Beach, this was Coney Island. We were soon longing for seclusion, peace and quiet. Bob pulled out his Lonely Planet guide, and his finger drifted north to Chacala, a fishing town on a cup of a bay surrounded by jungle. It was tiny, a speck, a guidebook paragraph -- so remote it didn't even merit a turn-off sign on the main highway. I was convinced we didn't have a chance at finding an empty room. And that's when I sneaked onto the computer in a Rincon Internet cafe and got busted. Bob looked at me with a mix of sympathy and disgust. He may have used the word "cheater." Contrite, I clocked off the computer, waved down a taxi and away we rumbled, leaving behind the buh-boom and blow-up beach toys and heading north into the lush groves of mango and jackfruit that crawled up the sides of an ancient boulder-strewn volcano overlooking remote Chacala Bay.
Six miles off the main highway, the taxi dropped us off on the dirt road serving as Chacala's main drag, in front of a deeply tanned couple who looked bemused when I asked them, a bit anxiously, if there was anywhere to stay in the town. They pointed at the cobbled side streets above us, to a hotel, condo rentals, the half-dozen Mexican homes that take in tourists. They pointed down the beach to a holistic retreat center called Mar de Jade. "There, and there, and there." Then they pointed to a place about 20 steps away. "And here." "Here" turned out to be a sweet beachside hotel called Las Brisas. "A hole diferent Vacations"(sic) read the hotel's brochure, in English translation.
For about $55 a night, we had a humble but pleasant little room with air conditioning, a DVD player and free movies, and two comfy queen-size beds. Downstairs, under the thatched roof, was a full bar, with good selection and generous pours, and a restaurant that served huevos rancheros for breakfast; fish, shrimp and lobster fresh off the boats for dinner. We ate barefoot, toes curling in the sand. Las Brisas drew a crew of regulars from Canada and the States who set up every day on the loungers out front, deep-tanning, working crosswords, splashing in the gentle surf -- one called it a "kiddie pool" -- and spending long hours staring across the fine golden beach and out to sea. Looking at what?
Maybe big waves, ships, whales. Maybe, after the second cerveza, marlin and mermaids. Maybe, after three, old loves and lost lives. I soon unfolded onto a lounger in this unexpected paradise and joined them in the Long Watch, eyes glued, mind unglued. As hours turned into days, and days melted away, I found myself mulling the nature of travel. I thought about all the great wanderers through time: Odysseus, Marco Polo, Kerouac, Frodo. I thought about the thrill of discovery that attends the adventurer, about the differences between trips and journeys, between tourists and travelers, between those who need to know and those who let it go.
I finally put niggling Nellie to rest on Day 5 of Week 2 during a crazy side trip that started with an early-afternoon taxi-dash to nearby Las Varas for a look around. Once there, we spotted the big bus station across the main highway. We wandered inside and, for the heck of it, plopped down 50 pesos each to bus it to the inland colonial capital city of Tepic. We thought the trip might take a half-hour. It took almost two. I started worrying: We'd have to return in the dark, the buses wouldn't be running, we'd never find a cab back to Chacala from the station.
I was alternately chewing on my fingernails and gazing at my watch when I suddenly stopped and actually looked out the window at the beauty passing by. There were lush jungles, fields of sugar cane, rugged volcanic peaks. I saw pretty little towns with walls painted bus yellow and rose red. I saw bullrings and cemeteries with giant white crosses and pink memorial wreaths still wrapped in plastic. There were big blue birds with long tails and lush green trees fruited with tangerines. There was a world going by, begging my attention. And it didn't requireadvance booking. I took a deep breath and settled in. Finally, I got it. I wasn't a hundred miles down the highway heading home; I was here, on a bus, off the clock, going nowhere in particular.
In all my fretting over the future, I'd been missing out on the romance of the moment.
We arrived in Tepic about 3 p.m. and quickly caught a taxi to the Plaza Principal, a town square surrounded by stately stucco buildings from the 1800s and a large neo-Gothic cathedral, dedicated in 1750. At one end of the plaza, we found shy Huichol artists, down from the mountains, selling intricate beaded masks and shamanistic yarn paintings at prices half those in Sayulita galleries. On recommendation of a government guard, we climbed up to the roof of a 200-year-old hotel to dine on velvety filet mignon in an excellent open-air restaurant, La Gloria, overlooking the town square. Down below, as the sun set and the old wrought-iron lamps went on, couples gathered, a mariachi band began to play and dancers in big ruffled skirts and hand-tooled cowboy boots high-stepped and twirled in the fading light. We wandered down, and I, too, found myself dancing in the dark, not giving a thought to when, or if, we would ever get back.
We did, easily enough. The buses ran. The taxis were waiting at the station. I arrived back in little Chacala feeling light, liberated, ready for more adventure.
Mr. Wing-It caught my smile and couldn't help putting in the last word. "See?" he said. "It all works out."
Special to The Washington PostSunday
March 25, 2007
I never thought of myself as a travel wuss, but there I was, busted, browsing for rentals at an Internet cafe in the little Mexican tourist town of Rincon de Guayabitos.
"Get off!" said my road partner, Bob, the man who loves nothing better than tooling down a Mexican highway on a local bus, prepared for nothing but the next big adventure. No itinerary, no plans, no reservations. That's travel heaven for Mr. Wing-It.
For me, it's travel hell. I'm a need-to-know girl.
We cut a deal. We had two weeks in Mexico to tour the sweet little beach towns north of Puerto Vallarta. The first week, we did it my way, staying at a multi-story villa in the surfing town of Sayulita with three other couples. Our friend Jay -- an uber-organizer who actually logs the contents of his freezer on a computer spreadsheet -- booked the stuccoed manse a year in advance. By Day 2, we were already planning breakfasts and dinners for the rest of the week. We had grocery lists, a book to tally expenses and Jay to work them out to the peso.
It was safe, comfy, predictable, right down to 5 o'clock happy hour. Guacamole, chips, margaritas, every night. The only variable was peanuts.
Everything was under control, including me. I'd taken precautionary antibiotics -- all I have to do is look at a map of Mexico to get turista -- and had an extra-large bottle of spray-on sunscreen. I arose every morning at 9 a.m. to watch the surf heave, crest and break below, then stretched, sipped coffee and lost myself in a novel.
Ahhh. The beauty of routine.
On Day 7, I kissed it all goodbye. It was Bob's turn.
Our friends taxied south to the Puerto Vallarta airport, dropping us off on the side of coastal Highway 200 to catch a bus north to . . . "Where exactly are we going, Bob?"
I believe, as we stood by the road, dusty, sweating in the midday heat, he said, "Trust me."
Maybe it was "Don't worry, be happy."
When the bus finally came, I bumbled on with my duffel and backpack. Old men reached up to help me with the bags. Young girls smiled, patting the seats next to them. "Hola." "Gracias." It was a bath of Mexican goodwill. I tried to relax, but questions niggled the Nervous Nellie inside me as we rattled up the highway on a Saturday afternoon toward Rincon de Guayabitos. It would be weekend, high season, in a hopping tourist beach town. Would there be room at the inn? Or would we end up in some cockroach-infested room with sagging mattresses, stained sheets and a view of the town dump?
Couldn't we just, like, call ahead?
I love planning trips. Browsing online on a gray winter day, I picture myself swinging in a hammock in the exotic Mexican garden spa found on Hotels.com, or catching the warmth of first morning sun through the arched windows of the cliffside condo on Vacation Rentals by Owner.
That's fantasyland to Bob. He likes his investigations on-site, eyeball to keyhole, and that's what we did after we stepped off the bus in Rincon, into the hotel zone. Boy, was I wrong. "Si Vacantes" signs were everywhere along the oceanfront. Nellie had a home for the night.
Our unit at Bungalows Anai, recommended in the guide, wasn't cheap for Mexico -- about $75 a night -- and it wasn't fancy. The light fixtures were crooked, the refrigerator rusted, the faucets oxidized and the glasses chipped. But the place was clean, with air conditioning and fans, and we had a nice view across a manicured garden and a pool to the busy beach, where vendors pedaled bicycle carts full of inflatable water toys and skewered shrimp, and volleyball players set and spiked. Water-bike hot-doggers made roostertails in the surf, the machine whine mingling with the tinkle of ice cream carts and the distant buh-boom of rap blasting from trucks cruising the main drag.
If Sayulita was Laguna Beach, this was Coney Island. We were soon longing for seclusion, peace and quiet. Bob pulled out his Lonely Planet guide, and his finger drifted north to Chacala, a fishing town on a cup of a bay surrounded by jungle. It was tiny, a speck, a guidebook paragraph -- so remote it didn't even merit a turn-off sign on the main highway. I was convinced we didn't have a chance at finding an empty room. And that's when I sneaked onto the computer in a Rincon Internet cafe and got busted. Bob looked at me with a mix of sympathy and disgust. He may have used the word "cheater." Contrite, I clocked off the computer, waved down a taxi and away we rumbled, leaving behind the buh-boom and blow-up beach toys and heading north into the lush groves of mango and jackfruit that crawled up the sides of an ancient boulder-strewn volcano overlooking remote Chacala Bay.
Six miles off the main highway, the taxi dropped us off on the dirt road serving as Chacala's main drag, in front of a deeply tanned couple who looked bemused when I asked them, a bit anxiously, if there was anywhere to stay in the town. They pointed at the cobbled side streets above us, to a hotel, condo rentals, the half-dozen Mexican homes that take in tourists. They pointed down the beach to a holistic retreat center called Mar de Jade. "There, and there, and there." Then they pointed to a place about 20 steps away. "And here." "Here" turned out to be a sweet beachside hotel called Las Brisas. "A hole diferent Vacations"(sic) read the hotel's brochure, in English translation.
For about $55 a night, we had a humble but pleasant little room with air conditioning, a DVD player and free movies, and two comfy queen-size beds. Downstairs, under the thatched roof, was a full bar, with good selection and generous pours, and a restaurant that served huevos rancheros for breakfast; fish, shrimp and lobster fresh off the boats for dinner. We ate barefoot, toes curling in the sand. Las Brisas drew a crew of regulars from Canada and the States who set up every day on the loungers out front, deep-tanning, working crosswords, splashing in the gentle surf -- one called it a "kiddie pool" -- and spending long hours staring across the fine golden beach and out to sea. Looking at what?
Maybe big waves, ships, whales. Maybe, after the second cerveza, marlin and mermaids. Maybe, after three, old loves and lost lives. I soon unfolded onto a lounger in this unexpected paradise and joined them in the Long Watch, eyes glued, mind unglued. As hours turned into days, and days melted away, I found myself mulling the nature of travel. I thought about all the great wanderers through time: Odysseus, Marco Polo, Kerouac, Frodo. I thought about the thrill of discovery that attends the adventurer, about the differences between trips and journeys, between tourists and travelers, between those who need to know and those who let it go.
I finally put niggling Nellie to rest on Day 5 of Week 2 during a crazy side trip that started with an early-afternoon taxi-dash to nearby Las Varas for a look around. Once there, we spotted the big bus station across the main highway. We wandered inside and, for the heck of it, plopped down 50 pesos each to bus it to the inland colonial capital city of Tepic. We thought the trip might take a half-hour. It took almost two. I started worrying: We'd have to return in the dark, the buses wouldn't be running, we'd never find a cab back to Chacala from the station.
I was alternately chewing on my fingernails and gazing at my watch when I suddenly stopped and actually looked out the window at the beauty passing by. There were lush jungles, fields of sugar cane, rugged volcanic peaks. I saw pretty little towns with walls painted bus yellow and rose red. I saw bullrings and cemeteries with giant white crosses and pink memorial wreaths still wrapped in plastic. There were big blue birds with long tails and lush green trees fruited with tangerines. There was a world going by, begging my attention. And it didn't requireadvance booking. I took a deep breath and settled in. Finally, I got it. I wasn't a hundred miles down the highway heading home; I was here, on a bus, off the clock, going nowhere in particular.
In all my fretting over the future, I'd been missing out on the romance of the moment.
We arrived in Tepic about 3 p.m. and quickly caught a taxi to the Plaza Principal, a town square surrounded by stately stucco buildings from the 1800s and a large neo-Gothic cathedral, dedicated in 1750. At one end of the plaza, we found shy Huichol artists, down from the mountains, selling intricate beaded masks and shamanistic yarn paintings at prices half those in Sayulita galleries. On recommendation of a government guard, we climbed up to the roof of a 200-year-old hotel to dine on velvety filet mignon in an excellent open-air restaurant, La Gloria, overlooking the town square. Down below, as the sun set and the old wrought-iron lamps went on, couples gathered, a mariachi band began to play and dancers in big ruffled skirts and hand-tooled cowboy boots high-stepped and twirled in the fading light. We wandered down, and I, too, found myself dancing in the dark, not giving a thought to when, or if, we would ever get back.
We did, easily enough. The buses ran. The taxis were waiting at the station. I arrived back in little Chacala feeling light, liberated, ready for more adventure.
Mr. Wing-It caught my smile and couldn't help putting in the last word. "See?" he said. "It all works out."
Monday, March 19, 2007
Only leave your footprints in the sand!
We came for a day but wound up staying a week. Our first impression of Chacala was how friendly the Chacalans are. They treat you like you are part of their family. And if you spend any amount of time here you do become “adopted” by at least one, if not several families. And each year we return it’s like we are coming home, we get such a warm, fuzzy feeling. ”You’re back-Bienvenidos! That’s Spanish for Welcome! That’s the main reason we keep coming back to this friendly community. We feel right at home with our Mexican Families! The best motto when visiting here is: –Only leave your footprints in the sand!
Cheryl y Michel in their 7th year to Chacala
Cheryl y Michel in their 7th year to Chacala
Friday, March 16, 2007
Ana's Return to Chacala
Mahuajua Chacala, Nayarit
We walk down the early morning beach, footprints wiped clean by the tide, pristine.
A couple hundred pelicans float the shallow waters, rising and dive-bombing the unsuspecting sardines and other bait fish, packed tight near the shore.
A feeding frenzy for three days now.
The magnificent frigates shadow the pelicans, looking for a dropped fish, or snatching a piece from a pelican’s immense beak.
They can’t dive, so only hang around for the leftovers.
We climb the steep path to Mahuajua, snaking back and forth to the restaurant perched high on the cliff.
The owners, Jose and Carmen, have placed a vase of ferns at the first turn.
Then a silk-screened banner of birds, hung above the path.
Then a broken, decorative plate placed in a niche in the rock.
A black and red butterfly hovers by the side of the path, following us for a bit.
We emerge on a gravel patio and sit at a small wooden table by the edge of the cliff.
The waves crash below us onto the lava rocks strewn across the beach, with occasional heaps of rock interrupting the flatness of the pattern.
The giant hand of the volcano above sprinkled them artfully across the landscape.
We have come, my friend and I, to write our thoughts, enjoy a little solitude and share random conversation.
A white carafe of coffee sits on the table between us.
A lovely woven tray bears a small flowered pitcher of milk, a couple of spoons, tiny napkins, sugar.
I read from May Sarton’s House By the Sea: “Solitude like a long love, deepens with time, and, I trust, will not fail me if my own powers of creation diminish.
For growing into solitude is one way of growing to the end.”
Hmmm. I like that.
I realize it reflects my strategy.
Can we do solitude together?, my friend and I ask each other.
We sip the rich coffee, laced with cinnamon, and bend to write.
I have been taking in my familiar pueblo for a week without attempting to write about it.
My journal is blank.
I need time to figure out what I feel.
“I feel more at home here than anywhere,” Gordon told me.
I know exactly what he means.
Chacala has always been that for me.
A wave of peace washes over me as I look out to sea.
A large cruiser comes into my vision, motoring out of the bay.
In the foreground, just below us, a giant fig tree wraps around a palm, weaving a gnarly pattern upward until just the palm branches emerge at the top.
Writing is easy solitude.
Providing focus, guiding my thoughts, inviting me to look around and take in the setting.
I have been craving solitude here, sleeping, walking the cobblestone streets, avoiding too much time with my gringo friends.
I am healing more each day, getting strong from the walking and swimming, feeling nurtured by the juicy weather.
My heart raced with exhilaration the first day I waded into the water, timing the waves, shooing the pelicans, running to dive under at the exact moment a tremendous wave breaks.
Then surfacing on the other side of the crashing waves and swimming laps back and forth, floating easily with toes sticking out of the water, perusing the incredible sky.
I startle when a pelican dives from 30 feet above just to my side, or when one skims the surface of the water directly in my path.
I trust their accuracy.
Sometimes they float quietly near me, watching me carefully.
I wonder what they are thinking.
Concha, my best Mexican friend here, had a small benign tumor removed from her uterus three months ago and is still in chronic pain.
Gringa friends are taking her to the doctor again this week, pushing for a diagnosis.
Aurora, my Mexican daughter, from a nearby town, shows up with her new husband, Miguel, and three-month-old baby Miguelito.
She is very happy, despite her parents divorce, and the circumstance of this marriage.
They take me to Platanitos, another small bay up the coast.
I have never been there before and am happy to know about it.
We drive up the cliff to a miramar and look out over an estuary winding back towards the highway.
Afterwards, we sit at a restaurant on the bay and drink cokes.
Miguel orders civeche, then oysters on their shell, then raw camerones en aqua picante.
I eat the civeche on fresh, hot, greasy tostados, but pass on the rest.
My stomach is still making friends with the food.
Aurora and Migel are returning to Tepic tomorrow to start their classes.
Aurora to become a dentist, Miguel a biologist.
I was lucky to catch them before classes start.
Pepe and Maribel, friends from Guadalajara, stop to see me on Sunday.
They are returning from Puerto Vallarta, only passing through.
They look for me at my house, are told I am visiting someone and go there, and finally go to Gordon’s, where I am staying.
Gordon brings them to find me at the beach.
This is the way here.
You can find anyone, but must track them down.
So many families to visit.
Each walk takes me by homes of old friends and children I no longer recognize.
The little girls I danced and sang with 8 years ago are young women.
They greet and hug me openly.
The boys I played Ochos Locos with in the little library so many years ago, are swaggering, young men.
Some greet me with a shy smile or extended hand.
Some I grab for a hug and kiss, much to their embarrassment.
A few, now part of the “bad boy” gang, look the other way when I pass.
I teasingly call their names, making them glance at me, grinning.
Dona Lupe makes pozole Saturday night in her small puesto.
Several of us go down for an impossibly large bowl of the delicious soup, sprinkled liberally with shredded chicken and lettuce.
Don Elijio, her husband, is sober, for a change, and even helpful.
Blanca, their retarded teen-age daughter, now taller than I, lingers near our table, swaying and smiling toothlessly.
Lupe hugs me and demands to know about my health.
How do I explain?
“Muy bien,” I usually say.
With some I add “mas o menos.” and explain that tratimiento is ongoing.
Lupe reminds me of the dried snake meat that I am supposed to be chewing daily.
Lupita, another friend and motel owner, tells me that she knows by my espíritu that I will be fine.
She is proud to show me that she has completed the ESL workbook that I left for her two years ago.
Her English is a little better.
When I go to see Chapa, the familiar stick house behind the school is gone.
I find her in back in a new cement block house with cement floor.
I remember sitting on a wooden chair in the old house, watching her unfold spotlessly clean pajamas from huge baskets, and dress her children for bed.
They would hop from chair to cot to cot to keep clean, bare feet off the dirt floor, and climb under their mosquito netting on their cots in the corner.
Now she has separate rooms for kitchen and bedroom.
The gardens surrounding my little casa/terraza are more beautiful that I could have imagined. In two years, the bougainvillea and other flowering vines have covered the fence and boulders. An assortment of flowers, hibiscus, gerber daisies, and other things I can’t name, bloom in pots and in the garden.
Palms and banana trees I planted 2 years ago are 12 and 15 feet high.
The lemon tree is full of fruit, not quite ripe.
Juan, my caretaker, has a enormous new tent, erected smack in the middle of the terraza.
He is proud of the gardens.
He carefully shows me the signs of disrepair, the crumbling grout around the tile at the edge of the terrace floor, a few cracked tiles, the rust on the wrought iron circular staircase leading to the roof.
I unpack plastic storage containers in my kitchen and bathroom, giving things away, packing up others to send home, preparing my house to be sold.
feeling sad and nostalgic and mad that I can’t spend my winters here.
I talk with several Mexicans who might be interested in buying.
At the final hour, my sons, who have visited but shown little interest in my house or my pueblo, write and say, “Mom, don’t sell.
We will buy it and build some bedrooms so we can all stay there.”
La Casa de Ana will take on new life.
I will keep returning, if only a week at a time.
-Ana
We walk down the early morning beach, footprints wiped clean by the tide, pristine.
A couple hundred pelicans float the shallow waters, rising and dive-bombing the unsuspecting sardines and other bait fish, packed tight near the shore.
A feeding frenzy for three days now.
The magnificent frigates shadow the pelicans, looking for a dropped fish, or snatching a piece from a pelican’s immense beak.
They can’t dive, so only hang around for the leftovers.
We climb the steep path to Mahuajua, snaking back and forth to the restaurant perched high on the cliff.
The owners, Jose and Carmen, have placed a vase of ferns at the first turn.
Then a silk-screened banner of birds, hung above the path.
Then a broken, decorative plate placed in a niche in the rock.
A black and red butterfly hovers by the side of the path, following us for a bit.
We emerge on a gravel patio and sit at a small wooden table by the edge of the cliff.
The waves crash below us onto the lava rocks strewn across the beach, with occasional heaps of rock interrupting the flatness of the pattern.
The giant hand of the volcano above sprinkled them artfully across the landscape.
We have come, my friend and I, to write our thoughts, enjoy a little solitude and share random conversation.
A white carafe of coffee sits on the table between us.
A lovely woven tray bears a small flowered pitcher of milk, a couple of spoons, tiny napkins, sugar.
I read from May Sarton’s House By the Sea: “Solitude like a long love, deepens with time, and, I trust, will not fail me if my own powers of creation diminish.
For growing into solitude is one way of growing to the end.”
Hmmm. I like that.
I realize it reflects my strategy.
Can we do solitude together?, my friend and I ask each other.
We sip the rich coffee, laced with cinnamon, and bend to write.
I have been taking in my familiar pueblo for a week without attempting to write about it.
My journal is blank.
I need time to figure out what I feel.
“I feel more at home here than anywhere,” Gordon told me.
I know exactly what he means.
Chacala has always been that for me.
A wave of peace washes over me as I look out to sea.
A large cruiser comes into my vision, motoring out of the bay.
In the foreground, just below us, a giant fig tree wraps around a palm, weaving a gnarly pattern upward until just the palm branches emerge at the top.
Writing is easy solitude.
Providing focus, guiding my thoughts, inviting me to look around and take in the setting.
I have been craving solitude here, sleeping, walking the cobblestone streets, avoiding too much time with my gringo friends.
I am healing more each day, getting strong from the walking and swimming, feeling nurtured by the juicy weather.
My heart raced with exhilaration the first day I waded into the water, timing the waves, shooing the pelicans, running to dive under at the exact moment a tremendous wave breaks.
Then surfacing on the other side of the crashing waves and swimming laps back and forth, floating easily with toes sticking out of the water, perusing the incredible sky.
I startle when a pelican dives from 30 feet above just to my side, or when one skims the surface of the water directly in my path.
I trust their accuracy.
Sometimes they float quietly near me, watching me carefully.
I wonder what they are thinking.
Concha, my best Mexican friend here, had a small benign tumor removed from her uterus three months ago and is still in chronic pain.
Gringa friends are taking her to the doctor again this week, pushing for a diagnosis.
Aurora, my Mexican daughter, from a nearby town, shows up with her new husband, Miguel, and three-month-old baby Miguelito.
She is very happy, despite her parents divorce, and the circumstance of this marriage.
They take me to Platanitos, another small bay up the coast.
I have never been there before and am happy to know about it.
We drive up the cliff to a miramar and look out over an estuary winding back towards the highway.
Afterwards, we sit at a restaurant on the bay and drink cokes.
Miguel orders civeche, then oysters on their shell, then raw camerones en aqua picante.
I eat the civeche on fresh, hot, greasy tostados, but pass on the rest.
My stomach is still making friends with the food.
Aurora and Migel are returning to Tepic tomorrow to start their classes.
Aurora to become a dentist, Miguel a biologist.
I was lucky to catch them before classes start.
Pepe and Maribel, friends from Guadalajara, stop to see me on Sunday.
They are returning from Puerto Vallarta, only passing through.
They look for me at my house, are told I am visiting someone and go there, and finally go to Gordon’s, where I am staying.
Gordon brings them to find me at the beach.
This is the way here.
You can find anyone, but must track them down.
So many families to visit.
Each walk takes me by homes of old friends and children I no longer recognize.
The little girls I danced and sang with 8 years ago are young women.
They greet and hug me openly.
The boys I played Ochos Locos with in the little library so many years ago, are swaggering, young men.
Some greet me with a shy smile or extended hand.
Some I grab for a hug and kiss, much to their embarrassment.
A few, now part of the “bad boy” gang, look the other way when I pass.
I teasingly call their names, making them glance at me, grinning.
Dona Lupe makes pozole Saturday night in her small puesto.
Several of us go down for an impossibly large bowl of the delicious soup, sprinkled liberally with shredded chicken and lettuce.
Don Elijio, her husband, is sober, for a change, and even helpful.
Blanca, their retarded teen-age daughter, now taller than I, lingers near our table, swaying and smiling toothlessly.
Lupe hugs me and demands to know about my health.
How do I explain?
“Muy bien,” I usually say.
With some I add “mas o menos.” and explain that tratimiento is ongoing.
Lupe reminds me of the dried snake meat that I am supposed to be chewing daily.
Lupita, another friend and motel owner, tells me that she knows by my espíritu that I will be fine.
She is proud to show me that she has completed the ESL workbook that I left for her two years ago.
Her English is a little better.
When I go to see Chapa, the familiar stick house behind the school is gone.
I find her in back in a new cement block house with cement floor.
I remember sitting on a wooden chair in the old house, watching her unfold spotlessly clean pajamas from huge baskets, and dress her children for bed.
They would hop from chair to cot to cot to keep clean, bare feet off the dirt floor, and climb under their mosquito netting on their cots in the corner.
Now she has separate rooms for kitchen and bedroom.
The gardens surrounding my little casa/terraza are more beautiful that I could have imagined. In two years, the bougainvillea and other flowering vines have covered the fence and boulders. An assortment of flowers, hibiscus, gerber daisies, and other things I can’t name, bloom in pots and in the garden.
Palms and banana trees I planted 2 years ago are 12 and 15 feet high.
The lemon tree is full of fruit, not quite ripe.
Juan, my caretaker, has a enormous new tent, erected smack in the middle of the terraza.
He is proud of the gardens.
He carefully shows me the signs of disrepair, the crumbling grout around the tile at the edge of the terrace floor, a few cracked tiles, the rust on the wrought iron circular staircase leading to the roof.
I unpack plastic storage containers in my kitchen and bathroom, giving things away, packing up others to send home, preparing my house to be sold.
feeling sad and nostalgic and mad that I can’t spend my winters here.
I talk with several Mexicans who might be interested in buying.
At the final hour, my sons, who have visited but shown little interest in my house or my pueblo, write and say, “Mom, don’t sell.
We will buy it and build some bedrooms so we can all stay there.”
La Casa de Ana will take on new life.
I will keep returning, if only a week at a time.
-Ana
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Visitors help Mexicans build stable futures
WORLD BRIEFINGS
By Tom Carter
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
March 13, 2007
CHACALA, Mexico
Nine years ago, Aurora Hernandez Blancarte's family lived in a dirt-floor shack, six miles from a paved road, and although her husband is a fisherman, the fam- ily sometimes went hungry. "During the rainy season, when the fishing is no good, we didn't even have enough money for tortillas," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte.
"Now, we eat well. I can send my girls to private school. I can take them to the doctor. And that is our first car," she said, proudly, pointing to the family's new Toyota pickup. Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte owes her family's bright orange home, adjacent guesthouse and fortune to a program called Techos de Mexico -- Roofs Over Mexico -- founded by Mexican social activists from the 1960s and modeled after Habitat for Humanity, but designed to meet the needs of Mexico's poor. Twenty-seven years ago, Laura del Valle, a medical doctor, and her brother Jose Enrique bought a piece of jungle property at the south end of the beach at Chacala, a small fishing village of about 300 people overlooking a scenic bay about 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta. Dr. Laura, as she is universally known in Chacala, studied medicine in Mexico City during the turbulent 1960s. She lived with a Japanese Zen master who took his students to the rural poor in the mountains of Oaxaca. Influenced by the social consciousness at the medical school, she took her skills into the Mexico City slums. After buying the property, Dr. del Valle invited Mexican and U.S. medical students to Chacala to spend their summers in palapa huts -- covered with hand-woven fan-palm leaves -- on the beach and volunteer in local clinics. The experience taught the students how to record health histories in Spanish, exposed them to primitive medicine and gave Chacala residents much-needed health care.
Volunteering in luxury The palapa huts have evolved into a luxurious hotel, spa and conference center. At Dr. del Valle's Mar de Jade, Birkenstocks, yoga pants and New Age patter among aging U.S. baby boomers is the norm -- as is the tradition of volunteering in the community. Dr. del Valle said Mar de Jade has brought in "easily over 1,000 medical students," hundreds of volunteer builders from U.S. Rotary clubs, as well as New Agers who want to practice yoga, lie on the beach, and make a social contribution on their vacation.
Mary Ann Day, a retired merchant seaman from Alaska's ferry system, began visiting Chacala 17 years ago. "I started volunteering here before Mar de Jade was a spa. I did translation for the medical students. Laura and Jose are just the best people. They inspired me to come here and help," Miss Day said. She bought a home and now spends her retirement working the Internet, soliciting donations and corralling Canadian and American tourists to paint, or work in the sparkling new book-and-tools lending library, built by Rotarians, or teach local youngsters how to use a computer or pick up trash.
Miss Day's efforts have evolved into a $40,000-a-year scholarship program called Cambiando Vidas (Changing Lives), for the children of Chacala. It now has 29 children in junior high, high school and college, including four of the first college graduates in Chacala's history. Housing and income With Dr. del Valle addressing medical needs at the Mar de Jade clinic in nearby Las Varas and Miss Day supporting education, Jose Enrique was interested in local housing issues. Many of Chacala's 300 residents lived in log huts, with dirt floors and palm-frond roofs. Many still do. "I did my thesis is engineering, social psychology and housing. We live in a country that has many problems in housing," said Mr. del Valle, Techos founder and the proprietor of the upscale Majahua bed, breakfast and spa, next door to Mar de Jade, in the jungle above the beach. In 1995, Mr. del Valle was introduced to Habitat for Humanity, the U.S. charity that organizes volunteers and builds homes for the poor. It seemed a natural for Chacala. Mexicans value land and housing, and there is a long tradition of stocking bricks and mortar, rather than putting money in the bank. When enough raw material has accumulated, Mexicans gather friends and neighbors to "self-build" their homes, but for Techos de Mexico he made a major change. "Habitat for Humanity does not allow their houses to be used for commercial purposes. I believe that a house can be used for business," he said. His idea was to use microloans to build small homes, plus two or three budget-style rooms that could be rented to tourists, giving the family a home, as well as an income. "Many countries have bed and breakfasts. France, Italy -- why not Mexico?" asked Mr. del Valle. He called a meeting to outline his idea, and 35 Chacala families attended. Points to the poor "We formed a committee and developed criteria. We visited each family. It was all open and transparent. Basically, the worse your house, the more points you got," he said, in determining the building order. If the applicant had a dirt floor, the family was awarded five points, a cement floor, three points, and a tile floor, zero points. If the dwelling had a rough-hewn log walls, five points, brick walls, three points, plaster walls, zero points, and so on. The family's social condition also was evaluated. A woman with an absent husband -- perhaps seeking work in the United States -- and two or three children younger than 11, or with disabilities, would earn high points. Newlyweds living with their parents were awarded big points. "But this is a fishing village. Even if you were living in a shack, if your family had three boats and 1,000-horsepower engines, this would bring your points down," Mr. del Valle said. The fact that U.S. tourists in Mar de Jade financed the $4,000 to $9,000 Techos loans scared some families from the program. "Because Americans were putting up the money, many were afraid Americans would come down and take their homes, so only five of the original 35 stayed in," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte, whose Casa Aurora was the third Techos built. Another of the five was Concha Velazquez, who had three youngsters and a husband in the United States. All Techos rooms are tiled. "It is like a home-stay. We have become part of Concha's family," said Cheryl Watts, of Kalispell, Mont., who has been spending winters at Casa Concha for the past few years. Booming B&Bs The del Valles recruited volunteer labor from their guest registries, and Techos bed-and- breakfasts began springing up. In all, seven were built, and other families who did not participate in the Techos program, simply copied the idea and built on their own. Now, nearly 20 B&Bs operate in Chacala. Lodging originally cost about $10 per night, but now runs $25 to $50 a night for the larger rooms with private bath, kitchen and a view of the bay. By contrast, rooms at Mar de Jade and Majahua start at $100 a night and go beyond $300 a night. "We had to put in our own labor. But I was lucky. American plumbers and electricians were volunteering when my Techos was built," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte. "If it weren't for Techos, we'd still be living in that shack," she said, pointing at the one-room log hut with a dirt floor and tin roof where she and her family once lived. She said her three guest rooms are filled almost all year, many with long-term rentals. She has repaid the $7,000 loan used to build her house. Because she is considered good with money and scrupulously honest, Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte has been drafted to act as accountant and treasurer for several of Chacala's civic organizations. "Our guests come back every year. We now have to turn people away. Even in the rainy season, I am full. I had a good September this year because we had good surf," she added. With Chacala transformed into a growing tourist destination, Mr. del Valle is in discussions with several Mexican and U.S. universities, hoping one will adopt the Chacala model and use university resources and students to reproduce the Habitat for Humanity and B&B hybrid throughout rural Mexico. "I am 50 years old and exhausted," said Mr. del Valle, sitting on his shaded terrace overlooking the Pacific. "I want a university to take this over. To take it further. "To make this work, you need lawyers, architects, social workers, volunteers."
By Tom Carter
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
March 13, 2007
CHACALA, Mexico
Nine years ago, Aurora Hernandez Blancarte's family lived in a dirt-floor shack, six miles from a paved road, and although her husband is a fisherman, the fam- ily sometimes went hungry. "During the rainy season, when the fishing is no good, we didn't even have enough money for tortillas," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte.
"Now, we eat well. I can send my girls to private school. I can take them to the doctor. And that is our first car," she said, proudly, pointing to the family's new Toyota pickup. Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte owes her family's bright orange home, adjacent guesthouse and fortune to a program called Techos de Mexico -- Roofs Over Mexico -- founded by Mexican social activists from the 1960s and modeled after Habitat for Humanity, but designed to meet the needs of Mexico's poor. Twenty-seven years ago, Laura del Valle, a medical doctor, and her brother Jose Enrique bought a piece of jungle property at the south end of the beach at Chacala, a small fishing village of about 300 people overlooking a scenic bay about 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta. Dr. Laura, as she is universally known in Chacala, studied medicine in Mexico City during the turbulent 1960s. She lived with a Japanese Zen master who took his students to the rural poor in the mountains of Oaxaca. Influenced by the social consciousness at the medical school, she took her skills into the Mexico City slums. After buying the property, Dr. del Valle invited Mexican and U.S. medical students to Chacala to spend their summers in palapa huts -- covered with hand-woven fan-palm leaves -- on the beach and volunteer in local clinics. The experience taught the students how to record health histories in Spanish, exposed them to primitive medicine and gave Chacala residents much-needed health care.
Volunteering in luxury The palapa huts have evolved into a luxurious hotel, spa and conference center. At Dr. del Valle's Mar de Jade, Birkenstocks, yoga pants and New Age patter among aging U.S. baby boomers is the norm -- as is the tradition of volunteering in the community. Dr. del Valle said Mar de Jade has brought in "easily over 1,000 medical students," hundreds of volunteer builders from U.S. Rotary clubs, as well as New Agers who want to practice yoga, lie on the beach, and make a social contribution on their vacation.
Mary Ann Day, a retired merchant seaman from Alaska's ferry system, began visiting Chacala 17 years ago. "I started volunteering here before Mar de Jade was a spa. I did translation for the medical students. Laura and Jose are just the best people. They inspired me to come here and help," Miss Day said. She bought a home and now spends her retirement working the Internet, soliciting donations and corralling Canadian and American tourists to paint, or work in the sparkling new book-and-tools lending library, built by Rotarians, or teach local youngsters how to use a computer or pick up trash.
Miss Day's efforts have evolved into a $40,000-a-year scholarship program called Cambiando Vidas (Changing Lives), for the children of Chacala. It now has 29 children in junior high, high school and college, including four of the first college graduates in Chacala's history. Housing and income With Dr. del Valle addressing medical needs at the Mar de Jade clinic in nearby Las Varas and Miss Day supporting education, Jose Enrique was interested in local housing issues. Many of Chacala's 300 residents lived in log huts, with dirt floors and palm-frond roofs. Many still do. "I did my thesis is engineering, social psychology and housing. We live in a country that has many problems in housing," said Mr. del Valle, Techos founder and the proprietor of the upscale Majahua bed, breakfast and spa, next door to Mar de Jade, in the jungle above the beach. In 1995, Mr. del Valle was introduced to Habitat for Humanity, the U.S. charity that organizes volunteers and builds homes for the poor. It seemed a natural for Chacala. Mexicans value land and housing, and there is a long tradition of stocking bricks and mortar, rather than putting money in the bank. When enough raw material has accumulated, Mexicans gather friends and neighbors to "self-build" their homes, but for Techos de Mexico he made a major change. "Habitat for Humanity does not allow their houses to be used for commercial purposes. I believe that a house can be used for business," he said. His idea was to use microloans to build small homes, plus two or three budget-style rooms that could be rented to tourists, giving the family a home, as well as an income. "Many countries have bed and breakfasts. France, Italy -- why not Mexico?" asked Mr. del Valle. He called a meeting to outline his idea, and 35 Chacala families attended. Points to the poor "We formed a committee and developed criteria. We visited each family. It was all open and transparent. Basically, the worse your house, the more points you got," he said, in determining the building order. If the applicant had a dirt floor, the family was awarded five points, a cement floor, three points, and a tile floor, zero points. If the dwelling had a rough-hewn log walls, five points, brick walls, three points, plaster walls, zero points, and so on. The family's social condition also was evaluated. A woman with an absent husband -- perhaps seeking work in the United States -- and two or three children younger than 11, or with disabilities, would earn high points. Newlyweds living with their parents were awarded big points. "But this is a fishing village. Even if you were living in a shack, if your family had three boats and 1,000-horsepower engines, this would bring your points down," Mr. del Valle said. The fact that U.S. tourists in Mar de Jade financed the $4,000 to $9,000 Techos loans scared some families from the program. "Because Americans were putting up the money, many were afraid Americans would come down and take their homes, so only five of the original 35 stayed in," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte, whose Casa Aurora was the third Techos built. Another of the five was Concha Velazquez, who had three youngsters and a husband in the United States. All Techos rooms are tiled. "It is like a home-stay. We have become part of Concha's family," said Cheryl Watts, of Kalispell, Mont., who has been spending winters at Casa Concha for the past few years. Booming B&Bs The del Valles recruited volunteer labor from their guest registries, and Techos bed-and- breakfasts began springing up. In all, seven were built, and other families who did not participate in the Techos program, simply copied the idea and built on their own. Now, nearly 20 B&Bs operate in Chacala. Lodging originally cost about $10 per night, but now runs $25 to $50 a night for the larger rooms with private bath, kitchen and a view of the bay. By contrast, rooms at Mar de Jade and Majahua start at $100 a night and go beyond $300 a night. "We had to put in our own labor. But I was lucky. American plumbers and electricians were volunteering when my Techos was built," said Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte. "If it weren't for Techos, we'd still be living in that shack," she said, pointing at the one-room log hut with a dirt floor and tin roof where she and her family once lived. She said her three guest rooms are filled almost all year, many with long-term rentals. She has repaid the $7,000 loan used to build her house. Because she is considered good with money and scrupulously honest, Mrs. Hernandez Blancarte has been drafted to act as accountant and treasurer for several of Chacala's civic organizations. "Our guests come back every year. We now have to turn people away. Even in the rainy season, I am full. I had a good September this year because we had good surf," she added. With Chacala transformed into a growing tourist destination, Mr. del Valle is in discussions with several Mexican and U.S. universities, hoping one will adopt the Chacala model and use university resources and students to reproduce the Habitat for Humanity and B&B hybrid throughout rural Mexico. "I am 50 years old and exhausted," said Mr. del Valle, sitting on his shaded terrace overlooking the Pacific. "I want a university to take this over. To take it further. "To make this work, you need lawyers, architects, social workers, volunteers."
Saturday, March 10, 2007
LA Times Feb. 26, by Christopher Reynolds
Sure, there's a great beach here, fresh fish, tall palms and only about 400 locals to share them with. But let's start with the treachery and deception.
"You wouldn't believe the snakes. Snakes as big as your head," says Ben Laird, a Wisconsonite who bought a vacation home here last year.
"People are poisoned in Chacala every day," deadpans Richard Laskin of Hornby Island, Canada, who has been coming here for 10 years.
"Are you sure that was a whale?" asks Laskin's friend Stu Reid, gazing offshore. "Could have been drums of toxic material."
Then — having done their best to deter the reading public from invading their winter haven — these good-natured liars go back to their tropical idylls. Laskin and Reid tuck into their breakfast at the Mauna Kea Café, one of about 10 restaurants in Chacala, as they gaze down upon a canopy of green, a deep blue sea, a deep blue sky and a few dozen pelicans, swoop-commuting between the two.
Sometimes, a lie is really just an invitation. And the truth about Chacala is just as intriguing, especially for a traveler who wants to actually meet Mexicans while vacationing in Mexico, who likes his coconuts straight from the tree, who doesn't need the bright lights of Los Cabos or Cancún.
Chacala, a village 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta on Mexico's Pacific Coast, is built around the beach, a handsome half-mile crescent of jungle-adjacent sand. At the southern end of the beach, black volcanic rocks murmur in gentle surf. In the middle of the crescent, half a dozen palm-shaded restaurants serve fresh fish and shrimp (and keep a machete on hand for those new-fallen coconuts). To the north, two dozen battered little fishing boats are tied up at a modest dock.
In town, several lodgings have popped up in the last few years, most offering ocean views, modest amenities and nightly rates from $50 to $90. A little farther north, more than two-dozen luxury vacation homes, some of which rent by the night, have gone up in a gated compound called Marina Chacala.
But what sets Chacala apart from so many other modest but growing Mexican beach destinations is this: Thanks to the arrival of three hippie siblings here at the end of the 1970s, the town is awash in social experiments, many of them built around the idea that locals and tourists need to meet and learn from one another.
Under one 11-year-old program, called Techos de México (Roofs of Mexico), half a dozen villagers have added upstairs rooms and terraces, most with ocean views, none more than a five-minute stroll from the beach. When not snapped up for the season by wintering Canadians, most of these rooms rent for $22.50 to $60 a night.
Other tourists can volunteer on community projects, attend yoga or meditation seminars or learn Spanish as guests at a 24-year-old beachfront retreat called Mar de Jade (pronounced Hah-day), which in winter is usually priced at $120 to $135 per person per night, double occupancy, meals included.
But you don't have to volunteer. Instead, you can spend $50 a night on a hotel room with an ocean view and lie around. Or spend $625 a night on a mansion that sleeps 10 and lie around in splendor .
You can take a $10-per-person boat trip to snorkel by the rocks off Chacalilla beach. You can fish for dorado or sierra or surf at La Caleta Point. You can kayak between rock formations and secluded beaches, go birding in a mangrove swamp to the north or drive half an hour east to the petroglyphs at Alta Vista. You can ride a horse through jungle to a secluded beach or drive about two hours into the hills and see Lake Santa María, its waters collected in the caldera of an ancient volcano. Or you can stroll back and forth, with refreshment breaks, on that grand crescent of sand.
Ahhh, seclusion
Until the first paved road connected the village to Highway 200 seven years ago, the only way into Chacala was by dirt road or boat. Now, business is picking up and the occasional RV, rental car and taxi has joined the local traffic, including the cab that delivered me to my lodgings at dusk one day.
It had been a three-hour flight from LAX to Puerto Vallarta, then a 90-minute ride, and my first thought, rolling into town, was, "Uh oh." Two blocks of dirt roads, sleeping dogs and ramshackle storefronts. That was the commercial district.
Ahhh, but then I stepped out to the beach. It was nearly empty, a slight breeze blowing. The tall palms, the quiet, the loop of the beach between the rocky points at either end — this was a landscape to banish worry. In the restaurants along the sand, a small band of Canadian snowbirds nursed seafood and cervezas. A little way up the beach , 20 RVs were parked in the palm grove next to the beach, their owners paying $5 a night for the privilege.
Looking for a meal one night at about 7:30, I found nearly every restaurant closed. They've had electricity here for years, but from the look and sound of the beachfront after sunset, you'd think they were still waiting for it.
Intrigued by the gated luxury homes of Marina Chacala, I greeted one homeowner from Seattle and soon was getting a tour of his nearly completed villa, the onyx spiral staircase as well as the 400-square-foot bathroom in the upstairs master bedroom.
Remember, however, that the nearest ATM is six miles up the road in Las Varas. Dozens of residents still live in dirt-floor houses, roosters greet each dawn, and the dominant architectural style is brick box, not Spanish Colonial. Outside of Las Brisas restaurant, the gated grounds of Marina Chacala and the lodgings Mar de Jade and Majahua (where I stayed), little English is spoken.
But in four days, I never met anybody from Southern California, saw only one jet-powered ski in use and was never invited to go parasailing or purchase a time share.
"It's still real Mexico down there," said Ben Laird, he of the imaginary snakes, gazing out at the town one afternoon from his hilltop home in Marina Chacala. "Chickens at your feet. And everybody knows everybody."
"You wouldn't believe the snakes. Snakes as big as your head," says Ben Laird, a Wisconsonite who bought a vacation home here last year.
"People are poisoned in Chacala every day," deadpans Richard Laskin of Hornby Island, Canada, who has been coming here for 10 years.
"Are you sure that was a whale?" asks Laskin's friend Stu Reid, gazing offshore. "Could have been drums of toxic material."
Then — having done their best to deter the reading public from invading their winter haven — these good-natured liars go back to their tropical idylls. Laskin and Reid tuck into their breakfast at the Mauna Kea Café, one of about 10 restaurants in Chacala, as they gaze down upon a canopy of green, a deep blue sea, a deep blue sky and a few dozen pelicans, swoop-commuting between the two.
Sometimes, a lie is really just an invitation. And the truth about Chacala is just as intriguing, especially for a traveler who wants to actually meet Mexicans while vacationing in Mexico, who likes his coconuts straight from the tree, who doesn't need the bright lights of Los Cabos or Cancún.
Chacala, a village 60 miles north of Puerto Vallarta on Mexico's Pacific Coast, is built around the beach, a handsome half-mile crescent of jungle-adjacent sand. At the southern end of the beach, black volcanic rocks murmur in gentle surf. In the middle of the crescent, half a dozen palm-shaded restaurants serve fresh fish and shrimp (and keep a machete on hand for those new-fallen coconuts). To the north, two dozen battered little fishing boats are tied up at a modest dock.
In town, several lodgings have popped up in the last few years, most offering ocean views, modest amenities and nightly rates from $50 to $90. A little farther north, more than two-dozen luxury vacation homes, some of which rent by the night, have gone up in a gated compound called Marina Chacala.
But what sets Chacala apart from so many other modest but growing Mexican beach destinations is this: Thanks to the arrival of three hippie siblings here at the end of the 1970s, the town is awash in social experiments, many of them built around the idea that locals and tourists need to meet and learn from one another.
Under one 11-year-old program, called Techos de México (Roofs of Mexico), half a dozen villagers have added upstairs rooms and terraces, most with ocean views, none more than a five-minute stroll from the beach. When not snapped up for the season by wintering Canadians, most of these rooms rent for $22.50 to $60 a night.
Other tourists can volunteer on community projects, attend yoga or meditation seminars or learn Spanish as guests at a 24-year-old beachfront retreat called Mar de Jade (pronounced Hah-day), which in winter is usually priced at $120 to $135 per person per night, double occupancy, meals included.
But you don't have to volunteer. Instead, you can spend $50 a night on a hotel room with an ocean view and lie around. Or spend $625 a night on a mansion that sleeps 10 and lie around in splendor .
You can take a $10-per-person boat trip to snorkel by the rocks off Chacalilla beach. You can fish for dorado or sierra or surf at La Caleta Point. You can kayak between rock formations and secluded beaches, go birding in a mangrove swamp to the north or drive half an hour east to the petroglyphs at Alta Vista. You can ride a horse through jungle to a secluded beach or drive about two hours into the hills and see Lake Santa María, its waters collected in the caldera of an ancient volcano. Or you can stroll back and forth, with refreshment breaks, on that grand crescent of sand.
Ahhh, seclusion
Until the first paved road connected the village to Highway 200 seven years ago, the only way into Chacala was by dirt road or boat. Now, business is picking up and the occasional RV, rental car and taxi has joined the local traffic, including the cab that delivered me to my lodgings at dusk one day.
It had been a three-hour flight from LAX to Puerto Vallarta, then a 90-minute ride, and my first thought, rolling into town, was, "Uh oh." Two blocks of dirt roads, sleeping dogs and ramshackle storefronts. That was the commercial district.
Ahhh, but then I stepped out to the beach. It was nearly empty, a slight breeze blowing. The tall palms, the quiet, the loop of the beach between the rocky points at either end — this was a landscape to banish worry. In the restaurants along the sand, a small band of Canadian snowbirds nursed seafood and cervezas. A little way up the beach , 20 RVs were parked in the palm grove next to the beach, their owners paying $5 a night for the privilege.
Looking for a meal one night at about 7:30, I found nearly every restaurant closed. They've had electricity here for years, but from the look and sound of the beachfront after sunset, you'd think they were still waiting for it.
Intrigued by the gated luxury homes of Marina Chacala, I greeted one homeowner from Seattle and soon was getting a tour of his nearly completed villa, the onyx spiral staircase as well as the 400-square-foot bathroom in the upstairs master bedroom.
Remember, however, that the nearest ATM is six miles up the road in Las Varas. Dozens of residents still live in dirt-floor houses, roosters greet each dawn, and the dominant architectural style is brick box, not Spanish Colonial. Outside of Las Brisas restaurant, the gated grounds of Marina Chacala and the lodgings Mar de Jade and Majahua (where I stayed), little English is spoken.
But in four days, I never met anybody from Southern California, saw only one jet-powered ski in use and was never invited to go parasailing or purchase a time share.
"It's still real Mexico down there," said Ben Laird, he of the imaginary snakes, gazing out at the town one afternoon from his hilltop home in Marina Chacala. "Chickens at your feet. And everybody knows everybody."
Gordon's 80th B-Day
Today, March 9, 2007 is my 80th birthday and today is the birth date of the Chacala Life blog. In Chacala some refer to me as the O.G. of Chacala – the oldest gringo or original gringo. Oldest perhaps, original, that’s debatable. Gringo’s visited Chacala long before I did, long before the paved road and long before places to stay were available. I haven’t missed spending a winter here for more than a dozen years-here’s hoping for a dozen more.
It used to be said about the Italian City “See Naples and Die”. I say “see Chacala and live to see it again.” Perfect it isn’t but it is good enough for me.
Viva Chacala Life
Posted by Gordon P., the OG of Chacala
It used to be said about the Italian City “See Naples and Die”. I say “see Chacala and live to see it again.” Perfect it isn’t but it is good enough for me.
Viva Chacala Life
Posted by Gordon P., the OG of Chacala
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)