Wonderings: Open windows, changing status, and a few good recs.
Living without windows
The very first book that I stayed awake until way past my bedtime to finish was the first (and by far the best) book in the Boxcar Children series. Because in the first book, the orphaned siblings take up residence in an old boxcar of a train and have to use their half-developed adulting skills to make their way in life (relatable). Until they meet rich grandpa and he just installs their boxcar as a playhouse behind the mansion (unrelatable).
The point is that I have a soft spot for romanticizing “make it work” housing. This seems to be a nostalgia shared with others in my generation as evidenced by the tiny home movement and other nontraditional living quarters. Maybe our nostalgia is just a balm to accept the material conditions of our economic reality where affording a full home is just not realistic for most of us.
Which brings me to my housing adventures across the border in Mexico where you blessedly have way less red tape to work through to get a roof over your head.
And yes, I said a roof. And we have walls. And we have doors now too although there was a time when we were depending on the guard dog to be the main barrier to entry. But windows? Working on it. There are holes where they will eventually go which is technically a window, but nothing so much as a screen barrier.
Living in a house where the windows haven’t yet been installed was not the plan at first. But progress is better than perfect and there have been blessings in the openness we have lived with the last week.
Yes, the bare windows let in rain and mosquitos, but it also let in the most refreshing air. After the heatwaves of May, the cool air of the rainy season is pure bliss. It felt a little like being in a treehouse or camping, the comfort of a cozy nook, but within arms reach of being out in nature.
I am writing down this memory because I know one day I will look back on the time when we moved into our house without windows and slept through thunderstorms and woke to 4am birdsong the same way I read about the boxcar children’s time in an abandoned boxcar in the woods. I will only remember the romantic part.
And the alternate sleeping quarters in the house is the original historic building. With some work it would be more structurally sound, but the locals of Yucatán made it clear that they would sleep in a room without windows over sleeping in a room where the roof might or might not collapse on you while you sleep. When in Rome, do as the Romans.
Probably by this time next week, we will have at least a mosquito screen up on all the windows and this little mini era will have ended. Which is good. Because living without windows is all fun and games until a hurricane is blowing trees and other debris through the gaping holes in your walls.
Changes in Status
One thing about living in Mexico with permission to reside here permanently is that they want to know every update that happens in your life. I kind of like it as all of my grandparents are dead and no one really checks in on me about that stuff anymore. This makes me sound like a great candidate for cult recruitment.
But immigration is filling the void for me right now and keeping tabs on my whereabouts and major life events. This week I had to tell them that I was divorced now so I prepared my documents and paperwork online and waited at the local Valladolid office. The guy who works there is just totally by the book and incorruptible. In fact, when I was getting my permanent residency card I worked with a woman who was filling in from Merida. The reason the regular agent wasn’t there is because they sent him to an office where they were having corruption and bribery issues. Our guy cleaned them right up. One of the great joys in my life is when this immigration officer tells me I filled out the paperwork correctly instead of the head shake of disappointment and a muttered “todo es mal” that I usually get.
One of my naive, provincial American things that has been shattered by the experience of immigrating is that I did not realize that the same agency that you go through to apply for residency in a country is the same agency that is enforcing detention and deportation for those who have not applied for entry and do not have regulated status. In fact, I think the agencies try to keep it that way. When I got for my little change of status appointments, I do not see people who have been detained. But I do see a pile of bunk mattresses stacked outside that look standard issue from whoever wholesales to prisons and detention centers. So I know that side is there too.
Same with US. Customs and Border Protection. It took me a long time to understand that the agency that checks my passport when I return from vacation and says “welcome back!” is the same agency that detains people who enter the country without authorization at the border. On a side note, people who claim that somehow the borders are open haven’t recently had their direct flight rerouted through another airport (adding like 3 hours to the flight time, btw) because CBP was closed for the night. And that is the soft side of immigration in little old Seattle Tacoma International airport. The borders are far more closed than they are open.
Since we are playing with “immigration issues” as a volleyball in the U.S. election, I just wanted to share my experience since most of us do not know what is actually happening on the ground. If you haven’t gone through a process of applying for immigration permission yourself, it is hard to know what agencies you have to work with, what it is like for different people working with these agencies depending on which country you are from, and what is motivating both the policies of our state and federal government and the actions of on-the-ground agents.
I feel lucky that I was able to qualify for permanent resident status in Mexico. It requires financial security and a knack for diligent bureaucracy which I was lucky to possess when I applied. I also want to hold the image of those detention mattresses stacked in a dusty room in juxtaposition to the air conditioned office where I am welcomed to sit while my paperwork is processed.
A few more things:
All five of the books reviewed in this article are now on hold in my Libby app. I forwarded this review to so many people because it articulated thoughts I have been mulling over for awhile about the thin line between “conspiracy theories” and actual conspiracies of power in our world. If you read one thing that I recommend, it is this: https://www.clereviewofbooks.com/writing/feelings-over-facts-conspiracy-theories-and-the-internet-novel
My pal Donald gave me this recipe awhile back and it is so so good. We don’t hang out anymore but I still make this cake sometime and reminisce about time spent daydreaming by his ridiculously long swimming pool. I will pass on his tip which was that the boiling process of the citrus is critical to the recipes success so do not skip any of those steps. Oh, and he said that the salt disappears into the glaze so not worth bothering with and I agree: https://www.saveur.com/article/Recipes/Orange-Scented-Olive-Oil-Cake/
I have gotten very into the world of immersive YouTube videos for relaxation. There are so many VERY SPECIFIC categories to set almost any scene you could want. Come for the 1930´s Terrace by the ocean on a rainy night ASMR, stay for the unhinged comment section wishing that time travel was real so they can check on their grandparents.
Finally, one of the hills that I will die on is that American/US food is not the same as the AMERICAN EMPIRE food. Unfortunately it is AMERICAN EMPIRE food that gets exported and has giant marketing teams. Teams that seem to be relying on processed food mash-ups like the ones featured in the “American Fest” section at the Chedraui Selecto in Mérida. Feast your eyes on these monstrosities:
