Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

Last week, we, the Endangered Families in Mexico (EFMs), had a scare-you-out-of-being-complacent meeting at the Consulate with all of the higher-ups there.

In other circles, I suppose this is considered a security briefing, but as this is a relatively secure city - look, I'm already pretty complacent about Hermosillo's violence, or lack there of - they talked mostly about the blood and carnage in Monterrey (which while upsetting and bad, is still no where near the disaster that is Juarez [can't pronounce Juarez without "war."]).

We are living in Prohibition Era America here where mob rule rears its ugly head from time to time. More so in the northeast, but it works its way into Sonora from time to time.

This wasn't my first security briefing since I've been here, and of course there are several unofficial security briefings in which you hear stories.

All in all, here is my list of findings regarding safety here:

Hermosillo is a safe city. So maybe this isn't a no-lock-your-door-at-night, American Heartland city, but I almost feel the only way you are going to be insecure here is if you go out of your way looking for trouble. Another American here describes Hermosillo as the eye of the storm, meaning that while all sorts of bad things happen around us, Hermosillo is quiet. My only problem with that analogy is that implies eventually the eye will pass and Hermosillo will go up in flames like some of the other cities, but I don't think that will happen here.

We are in the long narrow section on the left - no competition.

Life is better under single cartel rule. The big problem in the northeastern part of Mexico is that a part of one cartel broke off and created a rival faction. So now there are turf wars and competing interests. Here in Hermosillo, we essentially live under the thumb of the Sinaloa Cartel. Sure, it sucks that a cartel can have such a strong presence, but as long as it is one group calling the shots, we live in relative peace and tranquility.

The only threat is the effects of the war on drugs. The latest scare-you-out-of-complacency meeting did have one lingering effect on me. We were told that the Mexican and American governments' war against the drug cartels has resulted in fewer drugs and weapons crossing the borders, which is hurting the cartels' bottom line. This means they will look for alternative sources of income. One such source is kidnapping, and the fear is that there has been increased kidnappings in the northeast.



Red states have more cartel violence. Green has less.
We live in a dark green.

 As long as the cartels are strong, which will be for as long as I'm in Hermosillo, there is always the threat of danger. But in Hermosillo, we aren't exactly living in fear of potential outbreaks. Yeah, you are best off avoiding some areas at night and you want to stay off the highways at night for sure, but much of the crime here is similar to that you'd experience in any city with about million people, many of whom live at some level of what Americans would consider poverty.

Rainy Season in the Desert

How bad could it possibly be, right? Desert rain storm seems like an oxymoron, does it not? In fact, during our first two weeks here, all of which were during rainy season, we had a few drizzles here. Granted, there would be a heavy storm somewhere else in or around Hermosillo, but a few pop-up showers that effect a small area didn't seem like much of a rainy season. Well, then the storms came in full force.

We had planned on going to the beach today (about an hour west of here), but after two days of torrential, non-stop rain and a gloomy forecast, we nixed that idea. After all, it isn't like we can't go some other time, and being stuck in Hermosillo during a rain storm is one thing. But being stuck on the beach during a storm is entirely too depressing.

On Thursday, the rain started around 3 p.m.ish, and it was the most intense storm the city had seen in almost a decade.

That is our backyard taking a beating to the point it was a couple of inches under water. It uprooted one of our tiki torches. A while later, I looked in the backyard again, and it had started to float away. Not that it could have gotten too far in our prison, but I put on some flipflops and started after it, about ankle deep. In hindsight, that was a very bad idea considering all of the lightning and iron-rod gates in our yard. That could have been an embarrassing death notice - struck down by lightning while in ankle deep water retrieving a 60-peso (about $5) tiki torch. It probably would have secured a place on Spike's 1,000 Ways To Die.

Some of the thunder that accompanied the storm shook the house causing Tiffy to cower at feet under the desk. Usually, she barks at thunder and whimpers a little, but I guess these cracks were a little too intimidating to elicit much of a response other than genuine trepidation.

This city was not really built to withstand such storms. Apparently there is no underground sewer system, so the water just fills the streets causing several high-water situations. So bad, in fact, several Consulate employees (my wife included) hung out in the office past 6 p.m. to wait for the water levels to dip to a point that one of the SUV owners could take everyone home. Our car stayed by the Consulate that night.

It stopped raining eventually that night, but we woke up to more rainfall. It started off not terribly bad, but then picked up to a steady down pour that continued for about five or six hours. Fortunately it fell just slow enough to avoid all of the flooding issues.

As I mentally prepared for moving to Hermosillo, I was ready for intense heat. People here know how to handle heat. They just stay in doors. But epic thunderstorms was something that caught me a little off guard. I'm surprised to say that I think I actually prefer the devastating heat to the rain. At least there is somewhat of an option to leave the house during the heat. Sure, the temperature drops dramatically, but these rain storms truly leave you feeling sequestered.

This is the view of our flooded street from our garage door, which sometimes I have to open during the heavy rain to let the water out.

EFM: Elated For Milestone

Jan. 5 seems like a long time ago. But back then, about six and a half months ago, EF'M made its first appearance on the Internet. On this day in July, we celebrate the 100th post.

Traditionally, television shows would take the 100th episode off and just go through a clip-reel of past season highlights. But not here. No, sir. Nothing but new material.

In the spirit of celebration, I'll provide recount of Friday night - our first night out on the town in Hermosillo.

It all began innocent enough. We went out with a group of six other Americans to see a movie at the new theater in the new mall, only months old. It is a VIP cinema, so all of the seats are leather recliners, and they provide a wait staff to take food and drink orders.

An okay movie and just an okay overall experience. But at the price of less than $9 per ticket, I don't think I'll ever be able to attend a movie in the States again. Not even a matinee.

The other interesting part was watching an American movie - "Knight and Day," or in Mexico, "Encuentro Explosivo," which definitely is not a literal translation, though I give them credit for coming up with a better, more appropriate title - with Spanish subtitles. My Spanish is beyond bad, but even I could pick up on some of the unintended humor provided by the brief, simplified subtitles. For example, every curse, which pretty much was just "shit" was translated as "diablos." Diablos, of course, means "devils." Also, through out the entire movie, an incredulous Cameron Diaz is constantly saying "Oh my God." Translation: "cielo" or "heavens." But otherwise, I could see how watching enough movies and television with Spanish subtitles could be a helpful way to improve my Spanish.

Moving along, at this point, about half of the group called it a night, while the rest of us went out to a restaurant near the Consulate aptly called Casa Centenaria (a terrible Web site, by the way). Aptly named because of how it coincides so neatly with this my 100th posting. I couldn't have planned this myself.

The food was good, and for American standards, very inexpensive. I have been aching to have some authentic Mexican mole, but I probably should have stuck with this region's specialty and ordered a steak. That I will do next time.

But what really makes this place a gem is the atmosphere, which they fail to promote on the Web site. It was a little warm, but we sat in the walled-in, outdoor patio section, where they had a live jazz band, which was really good, especially the drummer. And I don't particularly care for jazz. And when they were taking breaks, they had a large screen projection of American music videos, which was mostly 70s and 80s rock. The highlight was a Muppets rendition of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody." This is required viewing.

Casa Centenaria also has an incredible selection of cocktails that always came out beautiful, as you can see them in Natalie's hand. I stuck to beer, however, because I got burned at the theater trying to order a beer, or at least what I thought was a beer that I had never tried before, and instead I got a beer-clam juice-tomato juice cocktail. Yuck!

Now it is starting to get late, and a few more of group head home leaving us with Natalie, myself, and one of our neighbors and we decide to go find a club. He took us to a relatively new place he had been wanting to check out, so we went to Classico.

Ladies get in free, and there was a 100-peso (12 pesos = $1, approximately) for the men, and we all got patted down and Natalie's purse was checked. The place was fairly dead, but due to the no cover situation, the women greatly outnumbered the men. And while I'm a married man, I don't mind saying more single American men need to visit Sonora.

There was a mixture of American and Latino music and is another place I'm sure we will go to again. The people were so friendly to us, especially one couple that came over and started talking to us in English (though the music was so loud the man might as well have been speaking in Spanish). He apologized for the club being empty saying Hermosillo usually isn't this boring but there was a big event going on this weekend at San Carlos, a beach a little more than an hours drive away. Then later in the night he tried to improve my poor dancing when I reminded him I'm a gringo. "There is no white here," he said. When you consider the current climate of American-Mexican relations with the Arizona racist approach to curbing illegal immigration, the Hermosillians I've met have earned high marks in civility.

But like all good things, the night had to come to an end at 2 a.m. when things close. And post number 100 is in the books. Here is to hoping I don't get canceled before post 200.

"Welcome to Hermosillo, This Way to Your Cell"

Mexico is a dangerous place these days.

Just before we started our journey, we were greeted with this news about a gang fight outside Nogales (where we crossed the border) resulting in 21 dead. The cynical (i.e. Me) wouldn't be too upset by this news as it does not appear any innocents were harmed. In my book, this is somewhat akin to Taliban and al Qaeda killing each other. We should be so fortunate - no tears were lost by me.

And then during our first weekend here, the big news was the car bomb triggered in Juarez (can't pronounce Juarez without "War").

Perhaps coincidentally, less than two weeks after the Nogales incident (but before the latest in war-zone-esque Juarez), the State Department issued yet another travel advisory in Mexico. I'll outline some highlights of this lengthy report:

Common-sense precautions such as visiting only legitimate business and tourist areas during daylight hours, and avoiding areas where criminal activity might occur, can help ensure that travel to Mexico is safe and enjoyable.

Continued concerns regarding road safety along the Mexican border have prompted the U.S. Mission in Mexico to impose certain restrictions on U.S. government employees transiting the area. Effective July 15, 2010, Mission employees and their families may not travel by vehicle across the U.S.-Mexico border to or from any post in the interior of Mexico...This policy does not apply to employees and their family members assigned to border posts (Tijuana, Nogales, Ciudad Juarez, Nuevo Laredo, and Matamoros), although they may not drive to interior posts as outlined above.

And finally, the one of most interest to me:

Travel is permitted between Hermosillo and Nogales, but not permitted from Hermosillo to any other interior posts.

Not sure if your familiar with the Mexican map, but there is nothing of interest along the road between Nogales and Hermosillo. We can't drive east or south due to this most recent travel advisory. Fortunately, we can still go west to the beaches, but I imagine we are one incident away from losing that privilege as well.

As a reference, I've brought back this Mexican crime map from an earlier post. Sonora, the state we live in now, is the big yellow one in the upper left. Working your way right, you have the more dangerous, reddish states of Chihuahua, Coahuila de Zaragoza and Tamaulipas. The yellow state south of Sonora is Sinaloa, which probably has been upgraded to reddish now.

One of the other diplomats pointed out that this city has become very isolated and hard to get in and out of. Welcome to Hermosillo, Africa.

Hermosillo itself is not that dangerous in terms of drug-trade-related crime. The city has your typical big city petty crime such as pick-pockets, burglary, etc. Some one told us it used to be the case that the drug lords had an understanding of sorts to keep the drug fighting out of this city because many of the lords have families in Hermosillo. Sure, let the thugs off each other in other parts of Mexico (Juarez), but let's not let it effect our families. But even that understanding is starting to wear off as there has been some drug-related violence here.

In my last post I lavished praise on our house. And I do love this house. But what I saved for today is that these homes are designed to keep intruders out, which has the flip effect of being difficult for us to get out.

I don't want to go into too much details about the security measures here for fear that could upset some of the government types, but we have bars in our windows and doorways. We have spikes and nasty barbed wire on walls. We have security systems. We have secret handshakes. We don't mess around when it comes to security.

Mi Casa es muy Awesome!

The Internet is up courtesy of the good people at TelMex (and the very rich Carlos Slim, a catchy name) and a little up from Natalie's sponsor. I assume this goes for all posts, but the posts assigns a sponsor to help with the moving in process and another to help with the moving out process.

See, I'm already getting distracted with side stories. So much to relay, but for now, let's focus on the house.

Apparently, Hermosillo post housing is suppose to be some of the nicer housing for diplomats. No complaints here. We arrived to find three bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms (sort of), a kitchen, dining room, living room, greeting room (foyer?), garage, laundry room, reading room, walk-in closet, garden room and what we believe to be a live-in maid quarters. Until this past Thursday, we always lived in one-bedroom apartments together.

Before we really get into the tour, first it is time to discredit some fool's knowledge.

MYTH NUMERO UNO:
There are no carpets in diplomat homes in Mexico, so buy rugs unless you want to walk around on tile floors all day.


False. We were pleasantly surprised to find a lot of carpet in our home including in the foyer, dining room (above), master bedroom, the reading room and Natalie's walk-in closet. The only downside of so much carpet is that it might be difficult to find space for the huge rug we bought before moving out.

MYTH NUMERO DOS:
Bathtubs don't exist in Mexico.

False. The bathroom attached to the master bedroom has a bathtub/shower.

MYTH NUMERO TRES:
There is little to no grass in Hermosillo.

Partially false. There definitely is very little grass around here, but we managed to score a backyard that does have grass. At one time, more of the diplomatic housing around here had grass, but after years and years of diplomats failing to take care of their yards and not hiring someone to do it, the landlords started to pave over the yards.

In addition to grass, we love that our backyard has a palm tree, a pink-flowered bush that attracts humming birds, and a built-in, out-door grill. We bought some tiki torches as well.

One of the challenges about living in a new home - especially a home you know you have to give back in two years - is making it yours.

One thing we did was take the bed out of one of the two guest bedrooms and turn it into a study. And now we have one guest bedroom with two twin beds in it.

We also converted the maid's quarters into a room for Tiffy's stuff. Even if we needed a live-in maid, I couldn't imagine asking him/her to live there. There are no air conditioning vents making the room very warm, and the attached bathroom has a toilet and shower but no sink (the sort-of whole bathroom). Granted there are plenty of sinks around the house, but the one person who should have clean hands would be the live-in maid.

We still have a lot to do to make this house our home, but that will have to wait until our ground/surface/sea shipment (EF'M no longer recognizes the term HHE) arrives. For example, the television room is used more for now to house our empty boxes, the kitchen, while huge, doesn't have any of my gadgets in it, we have no pictures, and we just haven't lived here long enough to make this feel like our home as opposed to guests.

Internet Withdrawal

So we made it. It is as hot as advertised in Hermosillo.

It's way too early to comment on the city as I've seen very little thus far. Thursday, the day of our arrival, was filled with a long drive south through Mexico, which really didn't look too different than from southern New Mexico and southern Arizona. By the way, the scenery in the southern part of those states can be very pretty - from a distance. Once you are in the middle of the brush, it isn't so attractive. But then you look further down the road and see the mountains, and it looks pretty again. And then you get there, and it is all brush. So the scenery is pretty from a distance. Perhaps that should be their mottos - "Southern New Mexico and Southern Arizona, Pretty from a Distance."

The biggest difference on the drive are the topes, which roughly translates as "hazardous, mountainous speed bumps on the highway." The highway is a dangerous drive not just because there is the threat of cartel hooligans, but because there are some hazardous turns, no shoulders, and the topes, which are even more dangerous at night.

After the drive, we reached our home, which was an overwhelming experience. There were a few Americans there from the office to greet us as well as a few Friends Supporting Nicely (FSNs) who unloaded our air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the term UAB) in our living room. Lots of activity as God's Servent Overseas (GSO, who also was the one who escorted us from the border, not the secruity officer as I falsely reported before) explained the security features; Tiffy was running all over the place; boxes were being unloaded; and, oh yeah, I was taking in the new home. It is a great home though - a huge step-up from the couple of one-bedroom apartments we've lived in. I'll write more on our home later.

Everyone then left as we unloaded our car, got cleaned and then went out with most of the American officers for tacos. I feel a little guilty because we are surrounded by tacos, which I like, but not nearly as much as others might.

I was busy all day Friday unpacking, and then we attended a baby shower for one of the FSNs and had more tacos. Saturday was spent grocery shopping and picking up a few other odds and ends. And finally, Sunday, today, I got a taste of the Internet.

The biggest change thus far has been the lack of Internet. It isn't just about blogging, either (sorry faithful readers). I miss e-mail. I miss reading sports columns. I really miss sports in general. I miss updating my fantasy baseball roster (though my team seems to be doing fine without me).

And now that I'm in Mexico, the Internet will be playing an even greater role in my life as it will serve as a phone as well. I plan to Skype more with my family and friends. I'm going to hook up a Magic Jack to do work.

But alas, we are still some time away from getting the Internet to our home. Currently, I'm relying on the bread crumbs that fall from the tables of other American diplomats and their generosity to muster up enough time to put this blog entry together.

I hope this update is enough to hold you over for a little bit, as I'll likely go back into hibernation for a few days (or longer, gasp) until we get the Internet.

Our Luggage is Here...So Where Are We?

NOGALES, Ariz. - So I lied yesterday. You get one more scintillating posting before we find ourselves on foreign soil.

Natalie is spending the morning doing some consultation work with the Nogales Border Control while I use my remaining hours in our motel room in this bustling city. Well, by bustling, I mean deserted. Last night, we represented half of the rooms booked in this motel. It is kind of depressing.

Though they still served us a free hot breakfast this morning. A woman arrived to work for one hour (for $6) and as we approached the lobby, she asked if we wanted ham or sausage with our eggs. Meat and eggs? I was expecting an old toaster and individually wrapped bagels like at the La Quintas.

We said yes to the ham, and then she surprised us with eggs, ham, sausage, hash browns and toast to go with our coffee and juice. That was all free, though given the fact that we are on a per diem, which we've been way under, and she was nice and working for so little, we felt obliged to leave a generous tip with her.

When I found out we were crossing at Nogales, they might as well have told me we were crossing at La-La Land, as I have never heard of this place and had no idea what to expect. My impressions was this city's last economic "boom" occurred in the 1970s, maybe earlier. There are several vacant buildings with for rent signs including a neighboring motel, the Bud Get Inn (I assume it was the Budget Inn, but who knows), that didn't make it and a gas station across the street that is vacant as well. I think the only thing keeping this city going is the one-night guests that don't want to traverse Mexico at night. So they drive to border, stay the night, maybe get dinner, and cross the next morning leaving Nogales behind.

Anyway, the big news of the day is that while I was using time to catch up on some blog reading, I received a phone call from our regional security officer letting me know that if we need any last minute items (as if our car could hold anything more) that I could stop by the Wal Mart. Then he also added that our air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes UAB) has arrived already!

Other than for the obvious reasons of having more of our stuff here already, this also is a huge bonus for me as it will give me a lot to do in these earliest days of adjusting. Unloading our car and sorting those items is a small task that I figured I could knock out before today is over.

Unloading and sorting our air freight will keep me busy most of the day tomorrow, I imagine, as that also has our desktop computer and printer in it.

At this rate, it shouldn't take much time at all before our Hermosillian (?) home starts to feel like our home.

On the Verge

EL PASO - I'll keep this short, but we're on our way out of Texas (finally), and we cross the border tomorrow.

It has been a long, four-day, 2,000-mile, eight-state journey thus far that has included a couple of stops with family and a couple of stops in La Quintas across Texas.

The end is near, but we had a few loose ends to tie up in El Paso before we could leave Texas once and for all. By the way, after we drove through Odessa and before we reached El Paso, there exists about 250 miles of desolation. A couple of small town-gas station stops, a couple of mountain ranges and a lot of sand and brush. Nothing else. I hope I never need to drive through west Texas again. No offense to west Texans.

Our chief reason for stopping in El Paso was to visit the Border Patrol to interview for our SENTRI skip-the-border-crossing-lane pass. Our appointment was for 8 a.m., and we were staying about 10 miles from the Border Patrol building we were to meet at. Deciding to play it safe, we left around 7:15 a.m., and it was good that we did because we needed a little extra time to find our way around the Border Patrol compound.

Still, we got there about 20 minutes early, and thus began the waiting process. This is where the Border Patrol morphs into the DMV. But with shorter, slower moving lines.

We signed in at 8 a.m. and waited 30 minutes until I got summoned to meet with a Border Patrol officer. He went through my documents, took my fingerprints and photo and interviewed me. It took about 30 more minutes. Then Natalie had about a 15-minute interview - shorter due to the fact that our officer did not need to double up on some of the information.

He was nice enough, though he seemed a bit shocked that neither of us have ever been to Mexico before. He asked both of us several times about different cities in Mexico and if we'd ever been to them.

Then back to the waiting room for another five or so minutes to fork over almost $200 for the SENTRI passes (we were both approved). Then another short wait to get our car inspected. Our appointment was for 8 a.m.; we left at 10 a.m.

We got our first look across the border and our first Border Patrol experience. We're excited about crossing tomorrow, and our future ex-pat comrades are excited to receive us. We're going out for tacos tomorrow night with them!

This probably closes the book on pre-post EF'M. I have to imagine the next time I post, it will be from Hermosillo.

EFM: Exodus Finalization in Motion

UPDATE
Apologies to anyone who was drawn into believing the below statement about VP Biden calling us. It was a joke playing on this gaffe.

ORIGINAL POST
A big thank you to all of the well wishers from yesterday's big announcement. Natalie was flattered. In fact, we received a phone call from no one less than our illustrious veep, Joe Biden, himself who wanted to tell Natalie that her achievement was "a big effin deal."

But now we have to start looking forward to the next steps. And they are many.

We need to prep for pack-out by taking our own inventory of our stuff and then mark with different colored post-its to indicate which shipment the items are going. We also need to do a dry run of packing our car before the movers get here so we know what we can take.

Tiffy is going back to the groomer to get her desert-style haircut - short enough to keep her relatively cool, but long enough to protect her skin from the sun. Though Tiffy and I have discussed this, and we've both determined that from about 11 a.m. to about 5 p.m., we are just going to lay naked and sprawled on the floor to keep cool.

I also need to get a copy of Tiffy's immunization records while we ourselves still need to get our shots to go to Mexico.

I'm still finalizing our driving route to post, and we are in the middle of the application process for a SENTRI pass. We know my disdain for acronyms, but a brief round of applause for this clever, cool-sounding name. Though I'm pretty certain the Border Patrol was hell bent on using SENTRI or SENTRY for this pass, and then just decided what the letters would stand for after the fact. They came up with Secure Electronic Network for Travelers' Rapid Inspection, so yeah, it is kind of a long way of describing a border SmartPass. Still, I'm a fan of this acronym, though I'm a little skeptical that such a program is a good idea. I'll need to experience a border crossing, but it seems that in matters of entering the United States, we should all just accept the fact that it is going to be a hassle in the name of national security.

One last note on the SENTRI pass. There is a 66-page instruction manual on how to fill out the application. Filling out the application took me about 30 minutes as there are several steps, but 66 pages of instructions seemed a bit excessive. After all, our state department friends already in Hermosillo were able to sum up what we can expect life to be like there for two years in a 66-page welcome manual.

We also need to make our final purchases before pack-out, which includes a new television. If I'm going to be watching people I don't understand on TV, I would at least like it to be on a large flat screen instead of my "3D" TV that I bought right before I started my freshmen year of college. I call it "3D" because the screen is rounded out...do they even make TV sets like that anymore?

And yes, that is soccer...er...futbol on my TV screen. I confess I've been drawn to watching these games, or at least have the TV set to these games while I go about my business. I've been watching/listening to the games on InVision (not Telemundo as I errantly said last time) because I love listening to the excitement by the announcers. I don't care who wins, just as long as there are many goals scored because listening to the announcers celebrate every goal like the team just won the championship makes me smile. Sadly, most games have been 0-0, 1-0 or 1-1, which makes for a lot of down time between goals.

We also need to load up on other items such as peanut butter, dog treats, cleaning supplies and toilet paper. I am fearful of a world in Mexico in which all they sell is single ply as we've been warned that the quality is not the same. That, and I've seen on TV that Americans use more pounds of toilet paper per person than any other country. Rationalizing, I figure that is because we use more double ply than the rest of the world, but that is merely speculation.

So we still have a lot on our plate. Yeah, the hard stuff is over Natalie, but we'd be kidding ourselves to think that everything else will fall into place on its own.

It's Sure To Be an Adventure

Over the weekend, our great farewell tour continued as we visited Natalie's friends and family in Canton, Ohio, (home of the NFL Hall of Fame and William McKinley).

This was our first mass farewell, and many of the people we visited with, we hadn't seen in nearly a year. As a result, we had a lot of explaining of what lies in store down the road.

After delivering our over-rehearsed, or over-practiced, schpeel, invariably, there were two responses, but they both had one thing in common - the word "adventure."

I thought I knew what adventure meant, but after getting two entirely different meanings of the word over the weekend, I decided I had better brush up on my vocab. So I turned to my trusted Webster.

ad ven ture (ad ven'cher) n. 1 a daring, hazardous undertaking

OK, that meaning definitely makes sense in context. With a look of concern bordering on despair, I've heard this expression several times, "Well, it will be an adventure."

This is the pre-dominant use of adventure when we are in Ohio or Kentucky. You can tell this is a lifestyle they don't comprehend and definitely do not desire. Some have mixed feelings as they think it is a great opportunity to see parts of the world, but the thought of living overseas for years at a time (and in our case, Mexico), is out of the question.

But go back and look at the definition. See it started with a number "1." That means we have a second entry:

2 an unusual, stirring, often romantic experience

Once again, I have definitely picked up on this sentiment from others. "Wow! I'm so jealous. That is going to be an awesome adventure."

While I appreciate the support, this response catches me more off guard than the first. And I think the key is the part of the definition that says "often romantic." I can't help but think they have romanticized our situation too much.

Yeah, they do ask about what Natalie will be doing, but I feel as though they think we are going to be worldwide tourists. Which is definitely not the case; well, at least not for Natalie. She will have a demanding and high stress job while working at the consulate, though for Natalie, there isn't much that doesn't fall into the category of "high stress."

And not to belabor the point, but Hermosillo is not exactly a tourism hot spot.

Like all things, the reality of our adventure falls somewhere in the middle. It definitely has characteristics of a "hazardous undertaking." There is no shortage of recent news articles and television reports proving it. And there is an element of "romanticism" as we set up shop in various countries and get to experience numerous cultures.

I'm just kind of curious what a response in this vein would sound like, because I haven't heard it, yet.

Culture Shock

I was planning on writing this entry today anyway, but I received a somewhat pleasant surprise to find in my inbox this morning a 66-page pdf file entitled Welcome to Hermosillo 2010.

Now, I'm sure Natalie is sitting on pins and needles that I might disclose something in that document that isn't meant to be shared, so I'm going to go ahead and disappoint everyone by promising to keep that document almost entirely sealed. Sorry, but there is just too much paranoia right now to take that route.

I was planning on just tipping my hat to the diplomats of yesteryear and how daunting new post assignments must have been to them.

Can't you just imagine being in the foreign service 100 years ago? "Hey Joe Diplomat, we are sending you to Peking in a month. Here is a copy of The Travels of Marco Polo. I hear the duck is great. Good luck."

Just about everyday since October when we learned we would be going to Hermosillo, I've been researching on the Internet what exactly is in store for me. I realize that this kind of information is only so good, but I have to imagine will cut into the culture shock a bit. That, and the fact that Hermosillo is practically a border town with more American culture present than many other posts.

So then I skimmed through the Hermosillo hand guide this morning for an hour or so, and I started getting a little cold feet. The move to Mexico has lacked teeth; it hasn't seemed like this was something we were actually going to do.

The pdf has ushered in some of that realization. The rest probably won't hit me until we are driving through Arizona.

Now this is the part where I'll share just a little of the info that I read today, though in truth, most of what I'm going to include is stuff we've probably all heard before, and this was merely confirmation. All the same, if Natalie and the State Department would kindly close out of this blog and go do something more productive, that would much appreciated.

First, the Mexican police really do suggest bribes in lieu of tickets. Similarly, don't part with your licenses, passports, etc. In fact, don't even drive with your passport in your car; rather, keep a copy.

While it is better not to drink local tap, Hermosillo is better than most of Mexico in that you can wash dishes with it. I've been practicing not drinking water when we go out to restaurants. "Would you like a glass of water, too?" "No thanks. I'm moving to Mexico. I'm trying to quit."

The heat is scary. The locals say Hermosillo has nine months of winter and three months of hell. But still, for those inclined to feel cold (read as, my wife), they suggest space heaters for winter nights.

Mexican schedules are intimidating. They start the day "early" though that makes sense because it is so hot. By the way, the guide considers starting the work day at 8 a.m. as early. When I did work, that is when my work day started, so I don't think of 8 a.m. as early. But then things get interesting. Morning runs til 1-2 p.m. followed by the biggest meal of the day. Dinner is at 9 p.m., which isn't that weird for the East Coast when we are eating out, but we usually eat our dinner at home around 6 p.m. Going out at night means you better be able to sleep in or be able to operate on less sleep because it will run into the early morning hours.

All not too bad, but as you start adding little differences here and there, and maybe a few larger ones like language, and culture shock is on the horizon. And a lot of heat.

Fool's Knowledge

With regards to the foreign service, as soon as I think I know something, I realize I'm way off base.

After making it onto the registrar (good job, honey!), initially we thought we'd be called off almost immediately because we heard rumors that due to the increased number of foreign service positions the Obama Administration was creating, there was virtually no waiting list.

Obviously this was not the case. So just as Natalie was deciding whether or not she wanted to try to improve her positioning by taking the oral exam again, we did get the call.

Then I started to share with friends and family all sorts of bad information about where we could wind up (I thought only embassies were in play. There are like 30 potential locations in Mexico, and only one has an embassy.) and how long until we got there.

Even as recently as this week, now that we've been on the inside for about nine months, I'm still learning that once I'm ready to claim I know something, we are wrong. The most recent example was that we were told by somebody who probably ought to know better that everyone being posted in Mexico who wants to take a car with them has to drive there.

That made a little bit of sense, because it seems it is cheaper for the government to pay for gas and hotel rooms than to pay to ship the car. But it stopped making sense about the time you realized that Merida, Mexico, is all the way at the bottom of the country and would be a very long drive. Yet if you get posted right across the border in Guatamala or Belize, then the government will pay to ship your car.

Of course, by now, I've come to accept that very little of what the government does makes sense, so I just accepted that this was another one of those examples that the government's procedures were flawed.

Turns out that there are only about a handful of border cities that the government won't ship a car to, and that Hermosillo isn't one of them. We're still going to drive there, but we were both surprised by this revalation.

It has made me re-assess what I know. What I know is this. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Hermosillo is in Mexico. Mexico borders the United States. We are suppose to live there.

There's also things I ought to know. But having been proven wrong about things I know on almost a daily basis since this process has begun, I don't like to share this information anymore. The biggie here is about when we are leaving. I think I know when we are supposed to move, but because it is dependent on Natalie passing her Spanish exam, and because this date changes more often than D.C. weather, I'm content to say I don't know.

And finally, there are the things I believe to be true, but these beliefs are based more on speculation than anything else.

The lesson is to take information at face value. Even if the information is coming from a reliable source, it could still be inaccurate. About the only thing you can bank on is that isn't a fact until it has already happened.

Role Reversals

I wouldn't go so far as to list this as an example of cognitive dissonance, but these changes certainly have been shocking to me.

Yesterday, Natalie and I got our visas to work in Mexico. It is official; we are leaving the United States to find work in Mexico. Five years ago, I never would have believed that statement.

I'm also happy to report that last week, after my freelance contract came to an end, I was able to come to terms with my old company to infinitely extend that contract, which, to paraphrase our all-knowing Veep, Joe Biden, "is a big effin deal!" Go read any other foreign service spouse blog, an inevitably there will be multiple posts about finding work.

(Speaking of work, before I left the office, I wrote an article about a young ophthalmologist running for the Republican nomination for senate from the Commonwealth of Kentucky. I'm happy to say that Rand Paul, M.D., rode the EF'M bump to a primary victory and is now the front runner to win a seat in the Senate. But Dr. Paul, you'd do well to heed your father's advice: "Be careful, you could get elected.")

But our moving to Mexico to find better paying jobs is not an isolated incident. In January, Ford officials announced they were moving battery-production jobs from Mexico to Michigan, because, you know, the labor is cheaper.

Hermosillo has a Ford plant, though I can't say with any certainty that it is that plant that will be losing jobs. Ford has several Mexican plants. But months ago when I knew even less about Hermosillo than I know today (which still is very little), I said it was a combination of Texas from the cowboy, beef-producing aspect and Detroit from the Ford plant, but, I said the difference was this plant actually made cars, which means Hermosillo = Texatroit.

Well, if the Hermosillo plant is the plant losing jobs to cheap labor, my analogy will be even more true as an industrial city will be losing jobs to outsourcing.

Five years ago, I definitely never ever would have seen that one coming. Role reversals abound in the foreign service.

First Farewells

When outside stresses mount too high and the blogging community gets too weird, it is time to internalize, move along and get back to writing blog posts like nothing is wrong.

Our move to our first post is quickly arriving despite my best efforts to live in denial. This past weekend did a little to make the realization set in some.

I had my first "farewell."

I decorated the farewell with quotation marks because of course, it isn't real. I'll see my little sister again, but the next time I see her will either be in Mexico or while I'm visiting from Mexico.

Such faux farewells elicit recollections of saying good-bye to high school friends as we moved off to our separate campuses. Yes, we'll see each other again during breaks, but there is the acknowledgement that when we do meet again, we are going to be different people. Other than newly found book knowledge, we also gain new life experiences which changed our sophomoric high-school view of the world.

This summer, I'll have another life-changing experience, obviously, as me move southwest. The next time I see my little sister, I'll be different. I'll likely be tanner and balder, but I'll also have new life experiences from which to draw that probably will change my opinions and way of thinking.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention why my sister came to D.C. over the weekend in the first place.

Because we are moving to Hermosillo this summer, I'll be in a foreign place far from family and my closest friends when I turn 30.

So between that little fact and that I got Natalie with a surprise party for her A-100 swearing-in ceremony, Natalie threw me a surprise 30th birthday party.

Given my birthday is still a ways off, I definitely did not see this coming, and as I climbed into the party bus, it took me a few seconds as the word "surprise" registered and I saw a motley group of familiar faces. And then I proceeded to drink myself stupid and behave in a manner I don't care to recount, so thank you to all who encouraged this ghastly performance, and to my little sister for coming down from Boston and, of course, to my loving wife for putting it altogether.

A Friday Two-fer

Yesterday was a busy day, so you're getting two items for the price of one!

Pack-out Practice
I did our good friend Al (from the cleverly named "You Can Call Me Al" blog) a favor by letting the movers come in his place and start packing while he was at Frustrating Scheduling Inconvenience (FSI). I also did Al the disfavor of not knowing what was going on, and thankfully he arrived before it was too late.

Without going into too much detail, let's just say his summer clothes wouldn't have arrived a little later than his winter clothes, and he is going to Belize in a few weeks. I doubt hilarity would have ensued, but at least he will have three ice scrapers! (Al, three ice scrapers for Belize?)

Being a local hire, I haven't had the benefit of experiencing a pack-out yet, so this was a good trial run for me, and fortunately, Al was able to correct my mistakes.

That said, the obvious flaws of the system were apparent. The terms UAB and HHE are grossly inefficient. The movers just want to get everything in boxes, and with a couple of them working at once against one inexperienced me, I was destined to do a shoddy job. Sorry Al, and I think it only fair that when Natalie and I visit you in Belize, we will pack some winter clothes, too.

Also, don't bother stocking up on aerosol cans and cleaning supplies, but the movers can't pack that stuff.

Hermosillo Group Re-convenes, sort of
Back in February, a sizable contingent headed to Hermosillo met for lunch so we get all spend a little time to get the first greetings out of the way.

Yesterday, we reconvened with a few exceptions. We lost some members who have left already for post, and we picked up a few newbies. And thirdly, one of our members got transferred to Merida. Obviously, life isn't fair.

I was blind-sided a little when one of the new faces announced that she reads EF'M (thanks for the reference Travel Orders.) I've enjoyed blogging so far, but largely, I've been writing to a faceless audience. For me, at least, it becomes more daunting as I meet readers. I think I hold back a little when I know someone can call me out.

If nothing else, at least we appear to have a good group assembling in Hermosillo. It's only been a single meeting in most cases, but everyone seems pleasant enough, and I'm not just saying that because I know at least one might stop by and read this...or am I? You'll never know, now that I might be pulling a few more punches!

EFM: Enjoying Frigid Mornings

This morning in Crystal City as I took Tiffy on her excretion expedition, it was about 45F...in May!

And this on the heels of a weekend that was in the 60s with 100mph winds, give or take 80mph.

Natalie is pissed off. She wants summer to get here. But I'm loving it.

Sure, it is a little cold out this morning, but I'm enjoying it while I can. As our friends over at Simmons Says pointed out last week, it already has cleared 100 in Monterrey. And according to this picture from wikitravel, which was taken at 10 p.m. in May, I can expect that, or worse, in Hermosillo. Ugh.

I can deal with living in an isolated city such as Hermosillo. I can deal with living in a land in which a minority of the population speak English. I can deal with the whole job issue. But I don't do heat very well.

So of course Hermosillo is in the Sonoran Desert.

Constrastingly, Natalie loves heat; she can't get enough of it. For example, and this is a true story, a few years ago we were visiting her cousins, who are loyal EF'M readers by the way, in the Dallas area in August. (Actually, more of the Bryan Station area, but I figure most know where Dallas is).

It was a cozy 80 degrees there...inside the house. And after spending five minutes outside, that 80-degree-air-conditioned home felt chilly.

So we went to a water park one afternoon, and the heat index was something to the tune of 115F. And Natalie had goosebumps! How is that even physically possible? Goosebumps in 115F? Granted, we were about two stories up to go down a water slide and our bodies were wet, but still.

Yeah, Natalie is excited for the Hermosillo heat. Me, not so much, so Mother Nature, feel free to hold off on summer in D.C. for a few more weeks, or longer.

EFM: Extricating Floral Memento

As a continuation to yesterday's less-than-serious ponderings of relocating (and massive consumption) of alcohol, I do have one lingering concern about what migration means for my possessions.

For the most part, we don't own much of value. Other than electronics, I think our most valuable possession in monetary terms is our bed set, so it isn't like we have a lot of hard decisions as we prepare for pack out day. Cheap furniture, books and a lot of winter clothes go into storage. Most everything else is coming with us because there isn't that much more. One of the benefits of never owning a home is that we got pretty good about limiting our possessions. Space, or lack there of, dictated that.

But we do have personal items that while limited or entirely lacking monetary value hold a great deal of sentimental value. How many family photos do we want to take to Mexico to make Hermosillo feel like home? All? Doubtful, because there always is the lingering risk that something happens to our shipments or our new home. Fortunately, many of our photos are backed up on the Internet and hard drives as they have been taken on digital cameras.

Some possessions do have some monetary value, but the sentimental or personal value greatly outweigh that. For example, Natalie has some of her mother's jewelry, and she would be just sick of anything happened to it. I have a basketball signed by the 1996 University of Kentucky championship basketball team that I didn't even want to bring to D.C. with me. I have no idea what the ball is worth (several of those players went on to the NBA probably increasing its value), but it remains one of my most prized possessions and I would never think of selling it.

All of those items, however, store pretty well. They're relatively small, and they don't need any care. The same can't be said for my brother's tree.

In 2004, my younger 22-year-old brother died. My parent's home turned into a greenhouse over the next couple of days as friends and family had potted plants sent there. A tradition I really don't understand.

I was living in southeast Ohio at the time, and to lighten the load (and save one more plant from being disposed...there is only so much room for plants in one household), I decided to take one small plant with me back home. It probably was no taller than six inches at the time.

The plant moved from Ohio to D.C. with me in 2005, still a smallish shrub, but it was growing to maybe a foot and a half. In D.C., with a little help from Miracle Gro, it shot up several feet. And when we left D.C. for northern Virginia in 2007, the plant barely made the move with us. As it only had to travel a few miles and we needed to rent a moving van for our furniture anyway, the plant was able to move with us.

Now towering at probably 10 feet (it is hard to gauge, and it already has hit the ceiling and is now growing horizontally), I know the plant can't come to Mexico with us. At least in its current state. My mom, who knows much more about plants than I do, thinks I can lop off the top portions to make it more mover friendly. Then new limbs will start to grow, she said.

Truth is, I'm not overly concerned about the tree being able to move to Mexico with us. I have other, more meaningful objects that remind me of my brother. But I don't want the thing to be merely discarded. I'll look into trimming it and seeing if that makes it movable, but otherwise, the only other solution I can think of is trying to find some place to plant it. (Though Mom thinks it will die in the winter if I do that.)

I've moved on that I don't need this plant sentimentally, but it would bring some piece of mind to know that the plant will live on.

Meeting My Mexican Informant

Yesterday evening, in the dark recesses of Dupont Circle, Natalie and I had a secret meeting with a member of the Hermosillian underworld.

We went to great lengths to make sure we weren't being followed, and we spoke in code so everyone in the restaurant would assume we were having a casual conversation. In truth, our informant was giving us intimate details about how to infiltrate and coexist with the Hermosillians.

Arranged through a friend of a sister-in-law, this was our first meeting, but if the sensitive information he shared with us proves reliable, we'll likely reunite in his native land, when he is safe from the American government's prying eyes.

He revealed a world that is not as foreign as one would think. Peppered with American chains, it almost sounded like he was describing Tulsa instead of the capital of the Mexican state, Sonora. He actually compared it to Texas stating that it is cowboy country - short on museums and culture, big on beef. (His words, not mine).

To my relief, it sounds like there will be plenty of television options that include ESPN access. He said he had DirecTV, with about 20 English stations and even a few French and German stations, curiously enough.

Surprisingly, he breached the subject of maids without my prompting. (Has he been secretly following me all this time? Is he a double agent?) Commenting that sand and dust are such huge problems, he recommended hiring some help to arrive five or three days per week to help with the cleaning as several commenters also said. (Am I looking at two years of online networking, maid service and regular Sunday mass? My head is spinning.)

I was a bit surprised that he referred to Hermosillo as a small town. There were a few bars, and he proudly told me about a sports bar I can go to. A sports bar? As in, singular? I'm from a small town (population: 25,000ish; Hermosillo: 750,000ish), and we had a sports bar. I find this information questionable. Speaking of bars, he also said tequila is not the beverage of choice. The Hermosillians prefer beer, which is fine with Natalie and me.

All in all, it was a valuable meeting, and he did Hermosillo proud living up to the reputation of being exceedingly friendly; he is hooking us up with his family's vet for Tiffy and wants to arrange for us to meet his brother, who still lives in Hermosillo.

But I fear I've shared too much, and I'd hate to think I compromised his identity.

Upon Further Review…Bordering on Dangerous

BOSTON - In the past, I only briefly addressed the State Department-issued travel advisory in Mexico as well as the Juarez murders. And I’ve yet to say anything about the most recent incident in Nuevo Laredo.

I probably haven’t been following these stories with as much vigor as I should, because, well, regardless, I’m moving to Mexico. I know there is an element of danger involved, so I’ll do my best to keep my guard. That seems to be all that I can do, so what use is it to read some of the scarier stuff happening?

Compounding the problem is that our government seems to sit idly on the sidelines. They are good at issuing travel advisories, and that is about it: “Recent violent attacks have prompted the U.S. Embassy to urge U.S. citizens to delay unnecessary travel to parts of Durango, Coahuila and Chihuahua states and advise U.S. citizens residing or traveling in those areas to exercise extreme caution.”

To me, this reads about the same as U.S. threat level of Orange for all flights. In other words, it doesn’t seem so bad. And considering we’ve been in the Orange zone for about a decade, travel advisories really don’t carry any meaning anymore (way to go, government!).

Let’s just take a closer look:
“U.S. citizens…should exercise caution in unfamiliar areas and be aware of their surroundings at all times.”
“All Americans should continue to be vigilant, take notice of their surroundings...”
Can you guess which warning is from the State Department about travel in Mexico, and which is from the Department of Homeland Security about the threat of terrorism in the States?

In my opinion, our government has been poor in keeping us informed about the threats of Mexico. You could learn more about the crime-related threats from visiting Wikipedia than from the travel advisories.

In doing my own research, I did find another good Web site called Prominix, which is where Wikipedia got a lot of its info. (Disclaimer: The Prominix report was financed by RRS y Asociados, a private consulting firm.)

It provides detailed maps (like the one I ripped from their report) displaying the frequency of violent crimes per Mexican state (per 100,000 people; so in the map I stole, the yellow Sonora means there were two to three property or violent crimes for every 100,000 people living in the state of Sonora in 2009…at least, that is the way I’m reading their data.)

The good news (mostly good, anyway), for Hermosillo at least, was this from the report’s conclusion:

"We, have successfully reduced most crime rates (excluding homicide) in Sonora working with the system as a whole: community & government. Sonora is the best evaluated state in Mexico’s northern border and has become a success story. Crime reduction in the past year ranges from 10 to 69%."

(I assume the "We" in that quote refers to the people and/or government of Mexico>
(Oh, and as for the quiz, the first statement was about Mexico, and the second about terrorism. The “…” indicate a section of the statement I deleted.)

Even with this report of improving situation, I'll heed the government's advice to remain viligant and know my surroundings, or was that to exercise extreme caution in unfamiliar areas?

Because obviously, my own personal safety is my own responsibility. But a little more info would be nice.

Another Weekend, Another Dateline

BOSTON - If I had a twitter account, I suppose I would say something like: "workin in boston. gr8 city, but 2 cold n April. miss DCs 90s already" (though that would be a lie; I am going to die in the Hermosillo heat).

And if I were on the facebook monster, and saw one of my friends posting this, I'd probably hit whatever buttons send this message: EF'M likes it.

Isn't online networking connecting us! (By the way, I refuse to recognize online networking as social networking, because I think this is an oxymoron...there really isn't any socializing going on.)

Alas, I'll move on. I'm in Boston covering a five-day long eye surgeon conference, and back when I was a full-time employee, these were the highlights of the year. Big city, expensive hotels, food allowances, time off from walking Tiffy, and daily deadlines. Adds up to a great change of pace from the dull office life.

A couple of years ago, this was my idea of traveling. I'd cover at least two conferences every year, usually in Chicago or San Francisco though I've been to most of the largest cities in the country for these conferences including New Orleans (post-Katrina), Las Vegas, San Diego, Atlanta and now Boston.

The real treats were the rarer international conferences, which sent me to London and Jamaica.

I thought I was spoiled to get to go to these locations. Now it all seems a little dull. I spent the past five years getting to see the country through work, and now I'll get to start seeing the world through Natalie's work.

When I started with this magazine, I really never knew what cool things I would see in the different cities of this country. And that was kind of exciting. Especially on the first day of arriving in that city. Of course, there also were the times when I realized I forgot to bring my hotel information or my dress socks or the time I got food poisoning or some sort of nasty virus and ended up in a hospital in downtown SanFran with an IV drip in a bed next to woman on a crack high or something complaining about a broken leg. So it wasn't always great either.

I get to experience that excitement again on an entirely different level as I can't even began to anticipate what will await us in Hermosillo, let alone where ever we get sent to next. At the same time, the trepidation also is exponentially greater as well as forgetting dress socks seems to pale in comparison to some of the other hardships I've seen in the news or read in other blogs.

Boston is my U.S. city victory lap; my final conference hurrah. There are still some regions I'd like to visit and sites I'd like to see, but when it comes to the United States, I feel like I can say, "Been there, done that."