How Does A Minnesotan End Up A Gringa Vieja?

I lived most of my life in Minnesota, but spent enough time elsewhere (San Diego) to know there's life outside of down-filled parkas and frozen nose hairs.

 

Minnesota Barbeque in the snow. It got up to 45 that day...

  Here's how I became a Gringa Vieja (non-Mexican old woman):

• I was able to retire early because the VA finally agreed my husband really was totally screwed up from Viet Nam and decided to decently compensate him.
• Around that time, my dad and brother both passed away from cancer, way before they were done living the good life, and then my mom got dementia. Life was looking dismal.
• We decided to sell everything and become fulltime RVers, to see the beautiful and WARM parts of the US while we still could. Face it, Minnesota's weather sucks.
• And then we discovered Mexico...

We're not even very far into Mexico, only 235 miles from the Arizona border. Some refer to it as Mexico-Lite, but it's plenty Mexican for me.  If you can't buy real Cheetos or flush the TP, it's Mexico.

Our RV Resort membership in the US included a resort near the tiny fishing village of Kino Bay ("a drinking village with a fishing problem") on the Sea of Cortez. Google Map WAY off the beaten path (and I use the term beaten extremely literally) and all white people, mostly from Canada and Colorado. Gated. Gorgeous, but somewhat quirky...
 WHR Kino Bay
This RV resort does not have water (it's trucked in) or sewers (they come pump your tanks), so one learns to conserve water and deposit TP in a wastebasket. Mexican TP does not dissolve. Ever. We buy drinking water, but use the trucked-in water for everything else and nobody's died from it yet. Martin drives his fresh vegetable truck out weekly. He often brings fresh seafood, too.

Veggie Day

The beaches are deserted and gorgeous with great fishing, clamming, and beachcombing. Potlucks and typical lame RV Resort planned activities galore. We drive to the village 2 or 3 times weekly for provisions (read: beer) or to eat out, and to The City (Hermosillo) monthly for a larger stock-up. Hermo has Costco, Sam's Club, Home Depot, and Applebees. Plus there's a town, Miguel Aleman, between Kino and Hermo with most everything you'd need anyway. I found you can definitely live forever and well on only fresh produce, seafood, beer, and sunshine.

Gringas Who Lunch

It was idyllic, but we wanted more. We wanted to stay forever, but NOT at an RV park. So we bought a tiny house with RV pad just up the hill from the park. We're 1.5 miles from the water's edge.

Rooftop Palapa View

Our casita is orange and purple and made of straw bales. Seriously, a toddler with a bread knife could break in easily. But it has roll-down locking steel window and door covers, called Cortinas, that lend an aura of security. Plus all of our neighbors have large barking dogs that deter all except my mean cat, Rocky. They won't go near him.

There are no fears of the Mexican Cartel Wars out here, but there have been isolated episodes of thefts in the neighborhood, probably by the very poor and indigent. We are near the primitive Seri Indian village, and Kino Bay itself has areas of heart-rending poverty. There's a large barrio outside Old Kino where a dwelling might have a towel for one wall, cardboard for another, corrugated tin and plywood here and there. No utilities, no windows.

Somebody actually lives here.

And yes, I felt like The Ugly American driving around the barrio getting that photo.

There are a couple of down sides. We've learned to not expect to find all our favorite American products in their little stores. They don't have Mountain Dew, for instance. Thick, marbled steaks are hard to find, but then I've not once seen a fat steer. I had to learn to make bread because their bread is too sweet. There are starving street dogs. Mordita happens (crooked "cops" that stop gringos and expect a bribe), but we remain smiling-but-dumb, and keep our truck dirty to discourage attention. Fuel is cheaper and better quality, but food (except produce) costs more. The hot dogs are inedible, but the shrimp is amazing.

The locals need and appreciate our commerce, and are friendly and helpful. Why, one guy even hollered at me today "Hey! I wash trucks!" There's even movie theaters in Hermo that run English versions once a week, afternoons. DirecTV and Hughes Net by satellite with east and west coast feeds (plus TiVo) ensure I get all the news that's fit to print. And lots that isn't.

So here's where things lie today:

• We're developing good friendships here, both gringos and locals.
• We've adapted our casita for fulltime, self-contained living, and will only go NOB when it's too hot to be here (August, September)
• While we do NOT miss Minnesota or its weather whatsoever, we miss the kids and grandkids in Minnesota deeply and daily, but with IM and SKYPE, it's almost mitigated.
• We're involved in "good works" projects in the village that softens our guilt over their living conditions.
• We're well-fed and hydrated, ambulating without assistance, and feel lucky to wake up here. 
• I haven't frozen my nose hairs in 6 years. 

Seashell Collector