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I have completed my first out-of-the-house, flying-solo task since arriving here. I managed to drive to the grocery store and go shopping all by myself.
It only took about two and a half weeks, but I finally built up enough courage to drive about a half mile or so alone and rely upon only my own poor Spanish to communicate. Of course, one of the good things about shopping is that there really is not much of need to converse. Baby steps.
Getting started, I thought I would like grocery shopping a little more than I do. I figured this would be something similar to shopping in the United States. I was counting on there not being many American products, which is no big deal to me, and at first glance the layouts of American and Mexican grocery stores are fairly similar. You usually begin with produce and baked goods, there is a butcher usually along the back walls and then aisles of food.
Sadly, most of the produce we find is second rate, unless we go to Costco (annual membership, $14 USD), which easily has the best quality. There really aren't any leafy greens other than romaine, no russet potatoes and the corn is much starchier than American sweet corn. (That was a sad moment as we tried to enjoy grilled corn on the cob.) But otherwise, it was fairly similar to the States.
The snack aisle doesn't differ much either, other than they don't keep their salsa with tortilla chips (totopitos), and they don't seem to carry pretzels. Foods also are packaged differently here. For example, we bought a box of crackers (essentially Saltines) and instead of finding long sleeves of crackers inside, they are wrapped in packs of six. We have a box of 45 wrapped packets of crackers. Seems excessive. Lots of American candy bars and cookies seemed to be packaged this way as well.
Mexican grocers don't carry much wheat flour, but they do have a lot of corn flour. And I still have yet to find active yeast. I guess I'll be ordering that online (I love homemade pizza dough, pitas and pretzels). They also seem to like marshmallows here, as almost half an aisle is nothing but them. And the 'mallows come in the typical small size, the larger size that you'd use for grilling s'mores, and then a super jumbo size that are larger than my fist. The other half of that aisle is usually gelatin and various Jello mixes.
They don't sell cases of pop cans here, not even at the Costco. But they do sell bottled pop in 1, 1.5, 2 and 3 liter bottles. And they lover their juices here. The big brand is JuMex.
The butcher has every cut of beef imaginable, and some of the unimaginable, too. We can usually fine chicken breast and some pork (though I haven't found pork chops yet), but no turkey. I've found sliced turkey breast for sandwiches and turkey dogs, but that is it. I wonder if they import some for Thanksgiving, or if we will be eating Thanksgiving tacos this year.
In the dairy section, the only familiar brand of cheese I've seen is Sargento, which also happens to be my favorite, so that works well. But they also have a pretty good selection of local cheeses, and the Manchego here is really all I need in life. They have a much smaller yogurt selection than I'm used to, which is a shame because I don't drink milk opting for yogurt instead. It is much runnier here, and all of the varieties seem to be plain, with bits of fruit added. In reality, this is probably because it is more natural than the artificial flavors and thickening agents in my Dannon Light and Fits, but this stuff will take a little getting used to. Or I'll start drinking milk.
With my cart full, and I detoured to look at some DVDs, because I was delaying the part I was dreading the most - check out. Finally, I would have to interact with a person. As different as many of the products might be, in the end, it still is all food, and that is something I'm comfortable with. Even if I couldn't fine any thyme (very limited on spices; probably have to drive to Nogales to get that kind of stuff, or order online). And I knew at the minimum they would ask if I wanted plastic bags or the cardboard boxes. Neither of which I know the Spanish for. I wasn't thinking this far in advance when I started the car. I was just worried about getting to the grocer instead of ending up in Mazaltan or some other place I'm not supposed to drive to.
The cashier said something, and in the only word I picked up on was "Americano." Not what I was expecting. I was hoping I would hear the word "plastico" in there somewhere so I could repeat that phrase. So I just said "Por Favor" and he looked at me, and started scanning my stuff. Problem temporarily averted, I assumed.
Then the bagger/boxer said something to the scanner, and he said something back, and I saw a plastic bag in his hand, pointed at it and said "Si, bola plastico." (I had bought some trash bags, and thought the word on there was bola. It's bolsa, but close enough for an obvious non-Spanish speaker, right?). But I got plastic bags in the end, and tipped the bagger. (Thanks for the heads-up on that, Bryn).
Mission completed. And I got home, unloaded, and had a beer.
Before I delve too deep into our lessons learned about packing air freight, let me first call your attention to a new page to EF'M. It has a permanent link in the left column with the disclaimers, but it essentially is a list of hated, and thus replaced, State acronyms and phrases. Instead of typing out "air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the use of UAB)" every time, I'll just link back to this page.
Moving on, we failed miserably in packing our air freight. Which is doubly embarrassing considering we drove to post meaning we should have had amble space for bringing necessities to Hermosillo.
Part of the problem stems from the fact that we made too many assumptions about the welcome kit. For example, we left behind our toaster and coffee maker thinking those would have to be in a welcome kit. I'm also wishing we would have brought a cookie sheet or two as well become some frozen food just doesn't microwave well.
Alas, we are toaster, coffee and baked goods-less for the next month or so. In fact, our kitchen is quite bare and makes cooking a dreadful, unfulfilling task. I didn't realize how much I love my gadgets and seasonings until I've been asked to cook without them.
"But you guys had 450 pounds and a car load. What did you pack?" you might ask. And a good question. Also by not knowing our welcome kit, we've doubled (and tripled) up on some items. For example, our government-issued bed came with bedding. So did we. Two sets of bedding, actually. But wanting to use government bedding is understandable, I suppose.
The welcome kit also came with towels. So did we. Almost our entire linen closet made it here, actually. This was part of the problem with our pack-out plan. Natalie was in charge of the air freight while I kept an eye on everything else. And we didn't really do a good job of prioritizing our possessions.
That, and Natalie really likes clothes. And she brought everything except her dead-of-winter wardrobe. The good news is that she has her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey I haven't seen her wear ever. And at least two bath robes, including the heavy one, which is so necessary in the desert in the summer. She also really likes hangers. I'd estimate that we packed about 30 pounds of hangers. (The welcome kit also had about 20 of those.)
I shouldn't pick on her too much, though, because I probably went a little over board on the clothes as well. I brought all of my dress pants because it is important to be dressed while sweeping sand and doing dishes.
We also had to take care of Tiffy by packing a 50 pound bag of dog food in our air freight even though we were driving with about 30 pounds or so in the car. Better safe than sorry, I suppose, but I highly doubt we'll be opening another 50-pound bag of dog food before our ground/surface/sea freight arrives.
There are a few success stories, however. We had our desktop computer and printer sent in the air freight. For anyone else shipping a printer, it is a good idea to remove the ink cartridges before it is sealed because I guess those tend to leak when jostled about.
I also smuggled one frying pan, spatula and pizza cutter without Natalie knowing. When I told her, she was a bit annoyed, until we started using it. The welcome kit does come with some pots and pans, but I would hate to rely on these for much more than boiling water. They are on the thin side, and I couldn't imagine trying to cook anything like a chicken breast on it because the outside would get crispy well before the inside would be done.
The major lessons learned are this. You don't need nearly as much clothes as you think you do. You'll have a washer and dryer after all. And get to know your welcome kit. I wouldn't ask the post what is in it, because it is a pretty long list. Rather, ask specific questions, such as, "Is there a coffee maker in the welcome kit?" That should not take the people working at the post quite as long to determine.
Good luck to those of you who have pack-out day on the horizon, and please learn from our mistakes.
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.
Apparently the border is much closer than we thought! On the map, it looks like a vast distance.
Funny though, I figured there would be a bit more security at the border instead of just a caution tape.
Okay, okay. Just joking. That isn't the border. It was a sign on the National Mall from the Folklife Festival. The country featured this year: Mexico, go figure.
On Thursday morning, we put on our tourist hats and visited the American History Smithsonian, and on the way back to the Metro (which I definitely will not miss), we saw a photo op we couldn't pass up.
Friday morning, we were on the road before 8:30 a.m., logged about 515 miles and decided to save the taxpayers a few dollars and set up camp with my parents. The farewell tour continues this evening as my friends and family will come and wish us "bon voyage" (or the Spanish equivalent), and then we get back on the road tomorrow morning.
This first leg of the drive was a familiar route, as we got to wave good bye to some of the oddities of western Maryland, such as the road sign pointing us to "I-68 to Ohio and all Points West," which as this site points out in the last two sentences, I-68 doesn't go to Ohio, and the re-creation of Noah's Ark. How am I just now finding this Web site? Hilarious. I've been driving this route since 2002ish, and the "ark" hasn't been altered in the slightest.
All of these sights, we expect to see. It will be interesting what we see en route to the border as we traverse roads for the first time, or the first time in a very long time.
Dear Pack-out Diary,
There is a common expression about the calm before the storm. Not in this house. It has been the storm before the storm before the calm before the storm. Or something like that...if it made any sense.
We spent the end of last week shopping at Target, PetSmart and TJ Max for some last minute items before the mover/packers come on Wednesday.
We also started sorting in preparation of the movers.
Natalie created an ingenious scheme for labeling what items are going in Unpredictably Arriving Baggage (UAB), Hauling Hindered Extra (HHE) and storage by using different colored post-its. Though apparently it wasn't quite fail safe.
Speaking of Tiffy, we also took her to the vet one last time to get her rabies updated and to get some paperwork complete to bring her across the border. To make sure we have all of our t's dotted and i's crossed (umm...whatever), we are going to mail away for an FDA document to get signed. We should be in good shape without it, but the consequences would be too dire to come up short on paperwork. The vet told us about someone who had to have their dog shipped back to the vet, which they had to pay for, then pay to have the dog kenneled at the vet while the paperwork got done, and then pay to fly the dog to the new locale.
Tiffy also has an appointment to get one more haircut before we leave. We want it cut short, but not too short that she will be susceptible to sunburn. I hope the groomer knows what she's doing.
To maximize our car space, we invested in a hard-top roof-top cargo box. It locks into place by screws on the bottom of the inside of the box, so first we brought the box into our apartment to see how much we could fit into it. Then we took all of that stuff out to lock the box on top of the car rack. And then we loaded everything back in. The whole process was very tiring, especially for Natalie.
Getting near the end of getting our affairs in order, I cut my brother's plant down to size to take it over to some sort of retirement home in the neighborhood. They were appreciative of the donation, and I was equally glad - if not more so - to find a home for the plant as opposed to having to throw it out.
Only two more days until the real chaos begins, and then we get the week of respite before the long drive. It can't happen soon enough.
The past week, well, the past few months, have been all sorts of different.
It seems as though we always are coming or going, or going and coming, hosting guests or parties, or being guests somewhere or the guests of honor at a party. Non-stop since Natalie passed her Spanish test.
I found myself doing some dishes in the midst of the pandemonium , warn out, and thinking to myself, "I can't wait until things finally settle down some and return to normal."
As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it quickly was replaced with the thought that my old sense of normal is probably obsolete. I need to recalibrate my sense of normal.
Between now and June 30, when the movers come, we will be busy preparing for the pack out as well as tying up a few loose ends.
After June 30, life definitely won't be normal because all of our things will be gone, and we'll be living out of suitcases in a hotel within view of our old apartment, which will be empty save for a few cleaning and painting supplies.
Then there is the six-day drive to Mexico.
And then a new life awaits south of the border in a land in which I won't be able to talk to the vast majority of the people and the temperature will be flirting with 120 degrees F. And that will be as close to my old version of normal as I will come for the next two years, so in order to avoid depression and the fear of the unknown, I'll be needing to rethink normal.
At least I am conscious of all of these changes. Poor Tiffy is about to go through all of these changes without any concept of what the hell is going on.
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.
Hope you enjoyed "Upon Further Review" Week. I might pull use that method again after I've arrived at post to see how my views have changed.
One view of mine that could definitely change is the topic of domestic employees, or hired help, or maids, or whatever you want to call them.
As we began sharing the news that we were entering the foreign service, the few people who knew what that meant congratulated me on the life they figured this meant for me: Natalie goes to work at foreign embassies and consulates; I lounge about in a life of luxury as our maids cook and clean around me.
Well, I never saw that in the brochure. And quite honestly, it is not a life I would want.
I'm from the Midwest (sorta). I never knew anyone who had a weekly maid service, let alone a live-in maid. And I grew up in a fairly opulent suburb of Cincinnati. Maids and servants were more of a Victorian ideal than a reality to me.
Little has changed for me. I'm still uneasy with the idea of a maid, live-in or otherwise. For one, I like cooking, so I don't want to give that up. Secondly, the idea of a stranger washing my underwear seems odd and invasive. Finally, we don't have any children, so it isn't like I need help with the household chores because there are kids to feed, entertain, change and observe.
As more and more information filtered down to us, reliable or not, I came under the impression that there is a level of expectation that American diplomats hire local help as a way to support the local economy.
So I've been tussling with a way to reconcile my preconceptions of what having hired help will be like with my preconceptions of what is expected of us in terms of being American diplomats on foreign soil.
I definitely could use a little help when we arrive in Mexico. For example, I probably could use some help with Spanish and local customs. And while I would not want to give up the cooking duties, it would be great to learn how to make Sonoran cuisine from someone who knows the ins and outs. And driving in a foreign country doesn't sound like much fun either. (Side story: I studied Mandarin in college, and one of my teachers related to us how shocked she was to see that Americans voluntarily follow traffic laws. I've heard similar stories about several other countries, that traffic laws or more of suggestions.)
Then again, if these preconceived notions that diplomats out to hire local domestic employees are unfounded, then I'd much rather not have to put myself through this. (Though Natalie disagrees. She likes the idea of not having to do laundry.)
So I will pose the question: What are the expectations regarding hiring locals to give back to the community? I imagine, like everything else in the foreign service, it varies from country to country, from post to post. But are there any guidelines?
