Chapter 30: Mazatlanlife.com
Raul Rico
Mazatlan is a culture of last minute events; very few things are planned ahead. Although we have a new director of Cultura, Raul Rico, who understands promotion and lead times, not everything falls under his watch. There are many smaller venues that have spontaneous arts shows, tango concerts, or author presentations. This world was meant to be captured on-line, yet I’m committed to a print deadline, with M! I’ve just submitted two profiles; one on Raul Rico, and Enrique Patron, an internally famous opera orchestra conductor. Plus my regular Que Pasa? column. Months ago Warren was encouraging me to go rogue, and I have been thinking about it. I met with G 1 over coffee and he encouraged me to go rogue too. Taking no advertising. Offering a completely free service. So that’s my affair; between on-line and print.
At this moment, (Ligia’s favourite English expression-she could easily say “now” but prefers “at this moment”) there is not a single site devoted to arts, entertainment and culture. There are sites crammed with news and advertising, but one never knows what’s on – today, right now.
I will need all of Soren’s web skills. I am wrestling about being so dependent upon him. I’m useless with technology, and still do not know how to pay a bill on-line or transfer money. Once our trust is set up for our condo, and we have a Mexican bank account, I’m going to learn all this. I don’t want to be the little old lady who can’t transfer my own money on-line. That’s too pathetic for words. The chef and I have a heart to heart. He knows I become extremely frustrated if I can’t do something right away. Soren also knows I don’t look at what’s in front of me on the screen and claims “you’ll just click away and screw it all up.” It’s true, I click and click hoping for a resolution. My web master searches for an easy program so I can handle the updates easily. Slowly I will learn to add links, and eventually import photographs. Maybe. What name, I ask G1 when we were having coffee? He immediately said Mazlife. I rushed back to the condo, Soren did a search; Mazlife was taken but Mazatlanlife was not. Caramba! I have a name and secured domain. Between discussing the look and feel, I am very, very busy writing all the content. My vision is clear; it was to be like the front page of a magazine with tantalizing headlines which linked you to the various sections. Well, look for yourself – http://mazatlanlife.com . Next, I lined up a restaurant reviewer. I can’t possibly review restaurants as I am gluten intolerant, and only eat one course. I needed a writer who was a real foodie, understood restaurants and would be fair. I found the perfect person and I assigned the pseudonym of Dakota Francis. Dakota is doing an amazing job with just the right tone and manner.
Claudia Lavista
Then I enlisted the help of Claudia Lavista- co-director of our local Delfos Dance School, and head of Mazatlan’s four year arts program school – she’s the busiest woman I know, also the most charming and friendly, and she kindly took the time to translate my press release into Spanish. She thinks Mazatlanlife “is a beautiful project” which is encouraging. Claudia is used to dealing with the press, so I know she has hit all the right buttons that will resonate with the Mexican audience. My site is only in English, but I hope to spread the word in the Mexican cultural community. Perhaps someone would like to mirror it in Spanish? Some day.
Now I just have to tell Janet Blaser, owned of M!, I won’t be writing for her anymore. It was much easier than I thought; she didn’t blink a California eyelash, it was as if I announced that I was going out of town for a couple of days. An A&E writer is easily replaced, I guess, and she probably has many candidates lined up for the “job”. It really wasn’t a job – it cost me a bundle to write for M!, which is why I’m so looking forward to being on my own. I sent out my press release on February 4th. No great fanfare, but as I make my rounds personally, my on-line site is well received. Everyone is puzzled as to how I am making money, and why I am not taking any advertising. When I explain it’s a public service they light up like the Mazatlan sun. I’ve always believed writing restaurant reviews and accepting ads was a huge conflict. Mazatlan is a small, small community, particularly Centro, so I wanted to keep it clean and honest. No tit for tat, no contra. Meals are paid for, the review is anonymous and “Dakota” has complete freedom. Slowly all my contacts switch my e mail and the press releases flood in.
This is our third annual debate over Carnaval; do we stay, do we go? It’s our first year in our Pacific Perch and we wonder where the stages will be, where the music will come from and how loud it will be. For six days it’s a lock down after 3 p.m. but we receive a pass to return, without paying admission fees. We finally decide to stay. It looks promising with no stages nearby. Oh boy, the day Carnaval starts two stages are erected; one in front of our condo, one to the side. Too late to leave Centro now. The press office of Cultura has issued us both press passes and free tickets to events. With free events to look forward to, how bad can the noise be? Bad, very, very, bad. The techno-pop music beside us bounces off the cliff and into our eardrums. It continues until 4:30 a.m. Yet no one is on the Malecon. No audience, yet the boys in the band will not go home. The chef puts in earplugs and sleeps through it all. I sleep haphazardly; never waking up rested. These stages are built, why? If there are no dancers, no drinkers, no partiers, then close them down. This is a residential area but the officials don’t give a hoot. Back to our earlier theory- Mexicans are hearing impaired.
We do make our way to the baseball stadium and watch an awesome production of “Let it Be” – a tribute to the Beatles and Queen. I saw “We will Rock you” in Toronto, and this production trumped it in spades. With only seven weeks, Cultura pulled together a cast of thousands and made it all work flawlessly; complete with changing videos, dancers from Delfos, and of course, fireworks. Don’t forget, Mexicans love their fireworks. Speaking of fireworks we went to see the annual massive pyrotechnic show, just up the street from our old apartment on Pedregoso. This rooftop from the Old Mazatlan Inn, has the best view of the bay in Centro. Talk about diamonds in the sky. You just can’t describe fireworks, it’s so breathtaking. The music and the choreography was equally stunning. One of the residents said it was the best fireworks he’d seen in five years. We saw Ligia on her balcony, and Pepe on his roof. As wonderful as it was, it’s not worth putting up with noise in Centro.
The new FM3 card waiting for our names and photos
The fog has lifted, “winter” is over. I’ve shed my socks and shoes for flip flops. We are at long last able to sit outside. Weird, weird winter. I have a note in my calendar to renew our Mexican immigration papers; our FM3’s. It’s my job to be organized and keep track of these things; I screwed up big time. Our FM 3’s expired two days ago. In a panic I phone Rosemary and she says “calm down, you have another 30 days”. We get everything in order, now all on-line, borrow Rita and Allen’s printer, get photos and march over to the immigration office early the next morning. Except it’s a pop up holiday. Surprise, we are closed today! Ok, we’ll try manana. We are first in line at immigration. The papers that we did on-line are not acceptable. The photos we had taken are not acceptable, because I had an earring in my ear. New rules; you must show your right side, no hair, no jewellery, we aren’t sure why, but the ears have it. I had the side view photo, but my small pearl earring made it trash. The on-line instruction said a bank statement was no longer necessary, so we copied the letter that was supplied by immigration. Bank statement is indeed required, that letter hit the trash too. Every day our FM3 is late we are charged $5.00. Everything on-line is either not current or a lie, and we return to the one person who knows what she is doing. Our lady of the Coke stand. We should have gone there first and dispensed with the on-line fibs. She works her magic and sends us off to the bank. But the bank has no cash in its ATM after Carnaval. Back to the condo, Soren prints off our bank statement and leaves in search of cash. Note to self; never let your FM3 expire and always trust the Coke lady.
Alan and Osmara in happier times.
It really has been a weird winter. Our yoga studio, Mukande, closed due to the owners’ divorce. It ended on a sour note; we all leave our yoga bags at the studio so we are not ferrying them to and fro. I treasure my yoga bag, for its function and design. So did someone else apparently. “They” dumped out my mat, and pocketed my fine bag. Hope they have bad karma, no one steals a yoga bag. Our instructor, Alan, is starting at our condo next week with the support of the core group. It should be wonderful on our pool deck but who knows who will commit to the monthly fee to cover his salary. People say one thing and do another.
Miriam, yours truly and Alfredo
Alfredo continues to grow stronger as does our Spanish. Just as he is recovering, Miriam, his wife, is diagnosed with breast cancer. She was fast tracked for a mastectomy and is now waiting for the follow-up radiation and chemo. Alfredo is clearly worried but wants and needs to work. Miriam also has four daughters and super support system. Still, we shall see. Gilberto Machado Lopez’s son, Jazial, turns up every Wednesday morning to pick up our laundry. He’s growing into a man before our eyes; he now sports a straw pith helmet shaped hat and wears cool shades, even though there is a dense fog. He’s smiling and ready to party for Carnaval, so that’s good. G2 has returned to Vancouver to work on a sister project. I think he just wanted to get away from all our complaining. G1 and his wife Jenny will be making regular appearances and moving into our condo soon. If only they could get that developer under control! G1 hired a very attractive man from Dublin, with green eyes as our maintenance manager. As I’m nodding along rhythmically to his Irish lilt, he suddenly breaks into flawless, rapid fire Spanish to one of the workers. Language envy again.
A much younger Warren Holder
Warren’s romance in Toronto is blossoming and I doubt he’ll be making a return visit to Mazatlan. Too many different places to see with his new love. We miss him terribly, but we are delighted he has someone to share his life with. Friends are good, but soul mates are the best. Rosemary is busy with her two dogs, four cats, teaching at the orphanage and now she’s about to help educate a Mexican teenager. Between her roof garden, animals and teaching, she couldn’t be happier. The Mazatlan art and music scene is brimming with talent, there’s such a generosity of spirit here. It’s a tangible feeling, you can taste and touch it in the salty air. Perhaps because we’ve all decided to make Mazatlan our first or second home? The new government is reaching out to foreigners, they are focused and are desperately trying to restore tourism to Mazatlan. The governor of Sinaloa recently asked us not to use the phrase “Mexican time”. We know exactly what he means. We all have the same goal; to promote Mazatlan and Mexico in a positive light, it’s our common thread.
I’ll end my memoir with a final Mexican Moment. Just before Alfredo arrived, the honey truck was firing on all cylinders at the public banos on the Malecon. The noise was deafening. We move inside, and of course, the honey truck finishes. Ah, silence. No, no, then there is a thundering noise on our floor, we still couldn’t hear each other. What now? On the 7th floor, our floor, is a sun deck, where the workers had installed a sink for a sunny coffee nook. Great idea. The flaw? No drain for the sink; so they hammered through the thick concrete wall and floor, no problema! Mexican intention and execution seem to be separated. Soren and I are smiling at all strange things that have happened to us as we approach our third year. During lunch, floating by our balcony are floats of: polar bears, octopus, Viking ships, warrior Aztecs, two St. Bernard’s, a neon parrot, an elephant garden, mermaids, kangaroos, and a dinosaur. That’s a normal rush hour crowd isn’t it? I’ll conclude with literally the Jaziel’s laundry list of my names: Cheyla, Sheyla, Cheila, Chyla, Sheula, and Cheula. Mexicans like the name Sheila, it’s easy for them to say and shout; it’s just difficult to spell.
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