Getting certified to teach English as a foreign language

While our friend Peter was here, he went into Guadalajara one day to check out a school where you can get accreditation to teach English as a foreign language. He's very interested in teaching English in a Spanish speaking country sometime, and his research had indicated that having some form of certification is very helpful in getting jobs.

I showed him an ad in the local Guadalajara English-language weekly newspaper for what turns out to be a highly regarded school in Guadalajara. They teach a four week course and hand you a certificate at the end that all but assures you a low paying but adequate job in the exploding global industry of English teaching. In fact, the ad says, "Guaranteed paid job placement in Mexico and direct employment contacts worldwide."

Peter commented, "Today's main activity was visiting the place, a two story office and classroom storefront in the heart of downtown. I asked many questions, sat through a four hour class, and had lunch with a couple of students. I was sold even before one of the students was pulled out of class for a phone call, only to come back a few minutes later with a job on the Yucatan Peninsula."

He said the cost was about $1400 US for the month-long course and that there were student apartments nearby at low cost, I think he said around $400 for the month, and I don't know if that was for sharing an apartment or not. I asked him how the $1400 compared with other places' prices, as he had done a good bit of research already at daveseslcafe.com and other places. He thought it was a reasonable price. He said that most of the two dozen or so students in the group he observed were American, while three were Mexican and a few were other nationalities. Most were his age ( early 20s) but at least one was in her 50s.

The school's website is www.teflcertificatecourses.com and its toll-free number from the US and Canada is 1-866-514-7479. Looking at the website, I noticed that this is part of a school in Boston.

A great information resource on Lake Chapala and on Mexico in general

This morning I subscribed to the back issues at mexico-insights.com, home of an online magazine called Living at Lake Chapala. I highly recommend it for anyone who is considering living in the region (as we are), but I also think that much in it would be useful for people thinking of living anywhere in Mexico. There quite a few articles each month, with photos.

I signed up because I'd noticed several articles relating to selecting and buying real estate, and Kelly and I have been doing some looking. As an ex-librarian and lifelong information junkie, I couldn't resist. Paying was easy, through an online shopping cart. Some hours later I received my username and password via email, sooner than the shopping cart message had promised.

I had planned to get some work done this evening, but that fell by the wayside as I read and read and read. The first real estate article I read could be worth the whole $24.95 price of access to the archives. (It was in the August 2004 issue and outlined all the steps in closing on a Mexican house, something I had wondered about and not found clearly described elsewhere on the internet.) Then I read about local veterinarians... holiday customs... mouth-watering recipes with stories related to the food... a school for the deaf... organic gardening in the area... the Xoloitzquintli or Mexican hairless dog... and more.

There are some 700 articles in the archives, so I have the same delicious feeling of anticipation that I have when I come home from a library with an armful of books. If we end up living in the region, I'm sure I'll also subscribe and get the current issues hot off the (electronic) press.

To Guadalajara airport to pick up a friend

Yesterday Kelly and I took a taxi to the Guadalajara airport. We'd heard it was half an hour from the Lake Chapala area, and that's exactly what it took us. We were going to meet a close friend, Peter Rice, our "teenage slave" when we were building our house in Colorado. He's now 22 and a professional journalist in Oregon.

Peter had made his plane reservations to fly into Mexico City when we thought we would be in our rented house in Bernal, Queretaro, by now, but since we are still lakeside, he just added a round-trip ticket between Mexico City and Guadalajara to his itinerary.

He had already gone through customs and gotten his tourist visa when he arrived in Mexico City earlier in the day, so Kelly and I asked directions to the national arrivals area of the airport. When we walked down a wide corridor with nobody else on it, Kelly suspected something but I was oblivous till we were stopped by security people and told to stay behind a yellow line at the other end of the walkway.

The security arrangements were quite similar to the US airports. I had taken my camera along to get a picture for the blog, but there were signs up saying not to use cameras or videocameras. Passengers picked up their luggage before coming into the public area. Peter said that he'd gone through a line with metal detectors and x-ray machines in Mexico City before boarding the flight to Guadalajara.

The Guadalajara airport was surprisingly small for Mexico's second largest city, with somewhere around five million inhabitants, but this airport was smaller than one you'd see in a lot of small American cities. There are several reasons for this: the excellent country-wide Mexican bus system means that much travel within the country takes place on the buses. Also, the Mexico City airport has long been the hub of the Mexican airline setup. When it began to be overwhelmed by traffic a decade or more ago, airports in other Mexican cities were expanded and improved, a process that is still going on today.

There were two arrival areas, one (NAC) for national arrivals and one (INT) for international arrivals. Almost all signs were in both English and Spanish. Since we had arrived a little early, we stood (there were fewer seats than you'd see in a US airport) and watched people coming out of the international arrival areas. Almost all were Mexicans being met by family or friends, with many hugs and much enthusiasm. We'd already noticed that the typical Mexican cheerfulness that we like so much was evident around the airport.

Peter eventually appeared and we came back to the Lake Chapala area in the same taxi. (Total cost, including the driver's waiting, was $55 US. There are buses but they involve a long walk from the airport to the highway.) We took him out to a typical Mexican dinner, and strolled down to the edge of the lake at dusk. Here I could take a photo with no problem!

Chapala Haciendas: a suburban community near Lake Chapala

We've been getting more of a sense of the region around Lake Chapala, as we continue to consider whether we'd like to live near the lake, and a few days ago a real estate agent took us around an older development called Chapala Haciendas. We went into several homes for sale, looked at lots for sale, and got a good sense of the place.

It was not our cup of tea, but because I haven't found much on the internet about Chapala Haciendas, I thought I'd do a blog entry that might help others who are considering living in the Chapala -- Ajijic -- Jocotepec region on the north side of Lake Chapala and who are looking for a quiet setting.

Chapala Haciendas has hundreds of of lots and we drove past at least a hundred homes. It's a hilly region and many of the homes have views of Lake Chapala, from a bit of a distance, while others have views only of the mountains nearby, and some that are tucked down into the valleys have views only of the trees and neighboring houses. Lot sizes appeared fairly large. Home prices ranged from under $100,000 US to approaching half a million, and lots began around $20,000 US.

The outstanding characteristic of this place is its suburban nature. There is nothing within walking distance, though you could take a lot of very nice walks around the cobblestone streets of Chapala Haciendas itself. That is, if you like walking on cobblestones! I'm getting better at it, but it's still not my favorite surface, as I have to pay more attention to where I put my feet than I am used to.

This community fronts on the four-lane divided highway from the nearby city of Chapala to Guadalajara, not attractive for walking.. Buses do go by on the highway, but many of the houses are distant from it. This is really a place for people who routinely use cars to go places. If that's how you live, then the access is pretty good. The major grocery-and-miscellany chain Soriana has a nice store right on the same side of Chapala, a very short drive away. There is a road over to Ajijic without having to go through urban areas, so it's only a few minutes away too. The Guadalajara airport is on this side of the big city, easily less than half an hour away.

Many of the developments (fraccionamientos in Spanish) around Lake Chapala are gated. We went in one of the two or more entrances to Chapala Haciendas, and it appeared that its gate apparatus was not in use, but maybe it is dropped at night, I don't know. The residents are said to be about half Americans and Canadians, and about half Mexicans, with many of the Mexicans people from nearby Guadalajara who come out on the weekends.

We had our cameras with us, but didn't think to pull them out! None of the houses or lots we looked at spoke to us.

Here are a couple of links:

This one is the official site for Chapala Haciendas, complete with the community bylaws, news, etc.

This is general description of the communities and developments around Lake Chapala. There's no date on this page and I know I read it at least a couple of years ago. It briefly describes, in alpabetical order Agua Escondida, Ajijic, Birds of Paradise, Brisas de Chapala, the small city of Chapala itself, Chapala Haciendas, Chula Vista, Chula Vista Norte, El Chante, El Limon, El Palmar Courtyard, Ixtlahuacan (which is between the lake and Gaudalajara), Jocotepec, La Canacinta,La Christina, La Floresta,La Huerta,Las Fuentes,Lomas de Ajijic, Lomas del Manglar, Los Arroyos, Racquet Club, Puerto Corona,Rancho del Oro, Riberas del Pilar, Riviera Alta,Roca Azul,San Antonio Tlayacapan, San Juan Cosala, San Pedro Tesistan, Upper Ajijic, Villa Nova, and Vista del Lago.

It can be confusing to figure out all these places at first. There's a good map, created by Tony Burton some years ago. We got a copy for a few pesos at a beer store (go figure), and some realtors have an updated version available at no cost.

A Blog on the Yucatan

Someone from Yucatan Living posted a comment recently on the piece I did some time ago about Merida. I took a look at the blog and thought it was pretty interesting if you are interested in that part of the world... and there's coverage of the Zapatistas too. And updates on the region after Hurricane Wilma.

San Juan Cosala: a lakeside hot springs resort

This morning Kelly and I took a local bus for a few kilometers to the nearby town of San Juan Cosola. We had a purpose: to sit in hot water.

The water at San Juan Cosola is naturally heated. There are several hotels which offer hot pools, but we chose to go to the place everyone just calls the balneario, or hot spring, located right on the shore of Lake Chapala.

As we approached the town from the direction of Chapala and Ajijic, there were several attractive restaurants right on the lake. We may try one another time. There will be more times! We didn't bring a camera this time, but now that I know the ropes, maybe I will later.

The cost wasn't all that low: it was 110 pesos each, or a bit under $11 US, each. For that we could stay from 8:30 Am to 7:00 PM, any day of the week. As today is a Saturday, we went early, as we knew the weekends were most popular. With Kelly recovering from breaking his rib, we wanted tranquility.

The place turned out to be huge. There were several pools, with different water temperatures, up to 41 degrees celcius, which is 105.8 F. Kelly spent his time in that one, while I watched people use the waterslides, enjoyed the jacuzzi, peered into the cavelike steam room, watched the little kids play on the pool for children up to 8 years old, and took dips in a couple of other pools. I'd go back and forth, joining Kelly briefly but he can take hotter water than I can.

My favorite pool offered shade over the water. I lounged in there a long time, watching a woman who appeared to be in her 30s moved a young boy through a series of exercises in the water. He didn't appear able to move his limbs much himself. I guessed that she was his mother or perhaps a physical therapist. Later Kelly and I walked by there and she was doing similar exercises with someone else.

I wandered around the grounds, watching a resident dog stroll casually among the people. It looked to be part German Shepherd -- you see all sorts of mixes here. There was a breeze and I got a little chilled, so I went back to the very hot water.

There I got into a conversation with a gray-haired Mexican woman who had come out with her family first thing in the morning from Guadalajara, less than an hour away. She said that the water was one of the healing forces of nature, which were a gift of God. She used some words I didn't know to describe the way the water heals, so I asked her to define them a little. She did, using more words I didn't know. A common problem!

She commented about cognates in the two languages, so I asked her if she spoke English. She said she had learned it three times, but it hadn't stuck a lot. I was happy to be following most of her Spanish. That is happening more often now.

Eventually Kelly and I got dressed and got some tacos at a little snack bar inside the balneario grounds. it must have been early afternoon, and people were pouring in. I commented to the young people running the snack bar (which also had an impressive bar!) on how many people were there. They said this was very few, that during Semana Santa -- Easter week, one of Mexico's main vacation times -- you couldn't even see the water in the pool for all the bodies, that there would be more than a thousand people there. Considering how many tables and chairs were placed around the grounds, we weren't surprised.

We caught another local bus back and melted into a lazy nap. We both feel great!

Quiet days near Lake Chapala

Kelly is recovering extremely well from his broken rib. He can do a little more each day, but is being very careful not to overdo. And of course, I'm right there to grumble if I think he's doing too much! Thanks to everyone who has sent good wishes.

So we are leading a very quiet life right now, mostly at home though Kelly is now taking walks of a few blocks around the neighborhood. In this rhythm we find ourselves more in touch with the daily life around us.

Kelly had been doing the walking of our dog Larry, but now I'm taking Larry out. I have discovered that if I do it around seven in the morning, the streets are very quiet. I'll see a few men walking or bicycling to work, a few kids going early to school, and maybe a few cars will pass.

We can't see Lake Chapala from here but I try to get a look at it most days. There's something about large lakes that I find deeply relaxing and inspiring.

Today I could postpone laundry no longer, and I had an amusing moment while doing it. I was at the house where our friends from the U.S. who are adopting a Mexican baby here are living. I've spent a lot of time with the little one, who is in her second month now. She's really adorable. Anyway, as I reached for the laundry soap, I noticed the advertising on the box, which included a drawing of an Anglo-looking baby. Immediately the thought went through my mind, "Poor little thing! It looks so pale!"

I'm enjoying getting to know the old lady across the street. We are in the town of San Antonio Tlayacapan, which is right next to the better-known Ajijic. Our street is about a 50-50 mix of middle-class houses and humbler abodes. The old lady and her husband have dozens of plants in pots on the narrow sidewalk in front of their simple place, and in the cobblestone street. There's also a small clothesline where she puts her wash. She looks to be in her late 70s or early 80s, and she is always bright eyed and friendly. When I told her about Kelly's fall, she brought out a bottle of what she said was arnica in alcohol. I wasn't sure whether he was supposed to drink it or rub it on.

The Mexican emergency health care system: up close and personal

Let me start out by saying that Kelly is recovering very nicely, here in the motorhome.

I'll go into considerable detail because I know that people are interested in Mexican health care. If you're squeamish, it really isn't too bad...

Two days ago around ten in the morning, Kelly was descending from the roof of a house where he'd been taking photos of the magificent view, when a cement post which he was using for support toppled over. Luckily there was a retaining wall and earth right there, so he only fell about six feet. The post whacked his chest pretty hard. Kelly was short of breath and in considerable pain.

The Mexican man we were with had a cellphone, and he called an ambulance. It came from the town of Jocotepec, just a few miles from where we were at the time and help got there in less than 15 minutes. Several people arrived, including a woman wearing a white shirt with an insignia and blue slacks. She was a paramedic, I later learned. When she arrived, I immediately sensed her competence and felt immensely relieved. She and two men left Kelly where he was lying down on the retaining wall, put supports around Kelly's neck, and took hold of him. Someone called out "uno, dos tres," and they rolled him in unison, slid a stretcher under him, rolled him back, strapped him down and got him right into the ambulance, putting the stretcher on a gurney.

Our friend offered to take me to the clinic where Kelly was going in his car, but the ambulance people said I could also go with them. I chose to stay with Kelly and rode in the front seat of the ambulance with the driver while the paramedic rode right next to Kelly. I wondered how the several other people had arrived -- and then I saw a large fire truck parked nearby, with the others getting into it.

As we went into Jocotepec, the paramedic told Kelly's blood pressure to the driver, who used some kind of a radio phone to let the clinic know we were coming. I asked the woman how Kelly was doing and she said his signs were good.

The very moment we got there, the doctor saw him. No paperwork --they didn't even ask his name till later. I was exiled to the waiting room for a while, where I did some praying and stared at a poster that said in Spanish, "STOP! One woman in five experiences marital violence. You deserve a life of respect." There was also a poster that said that any patient staying in the clinic should have someone with them, preferably a family member.

The clinic was a municipal one, a basic two-story cement-block building, quite clean. The doctor came out and told me that he thought Kelly would be fine, and that he would have some x-rays done, then keep Kelly for observation for a while, and that if all was well, we could go home in a few hours. He had given Kelly some pain medication, and Kelly was on an IV that stayed with him. Both Kelly and I felt he was skilled and caring.

I was a little confused to see Kelly being wheeled towards the street door by the paramedic and driver until they explained that the clinic did not have x-ray facilities and we would be going a few blocks to an x-ray lab. They told me to come along so I could pay separately for the x-rays. So that all happened. The x-ray machine looked a little like something from the 1950s, and the cost was 200 pesos, a bit under $20 US. They gave me the x-ray in an envelope, to carry around and take home.

On the way back to the hospital, we stopped in a busy street somewhere and we were transferred to the other ambulance that Jocotepec has. The one we were in was supposed to go to Guadalajara right then. Our crew, Monica the paramedic and Pedro the driver, took us back to the clinic in the other ambulance.

Once back at the clinic, the doctor showed the x-ray to Kelly and me and explained it. It looked good, no broken bones showing nor anything else serious. He put Kelly in the two-bed room, in one bed, and I was welcome to be in there with him. So I stood by the bed or sometimes sat. There was a three-seat sofa and various other people came and went. A young child, and later a four-month old baby, were held by their mothers while they were put on a respirator as a way of giving them medicine. An old woman was in the other bed for some time, while her middle-aged daughter sat on the sofa. I tended to stay off it when others were on it, to minimize exposure to the contagious diseases they all had.

Kelly asked me to see if I could get him some water to drink. When I asked, I was directed to a little grocery shop across the street, where I got us each a bottle of purified water.

Within about an hour, the doctor said we could go home. He said we could take a taxi but he'd recommend the ambulance, though there would be a charge if we used it. We opted for the ambulance. But first I went upstairs and paid the bill: 600 pesos, or just under $60 US. 300 pesos was for the ambulance ride back home, and the other 300 was for meds, supplies, and the doctor. He had given Kelly a prescription for a painkiller, an anti-inflammatory, and something else. I later had these filled near where we're staying for 470 pesos, about $47 US. So we were charged a total of $127 US for all this.

There was no fee for the ambulance from the site of the accident to the clinic. When I expressed surprise, the woman I was paying said that many people had no money and the goverment pays for it.

Then it was back in the ambulance with Monica and Pedro for a drive of maybe 10 or 15 miles, from Jocotepec to the town we're staying in, San Antonio Tlayacapan. Pedro drove the ambulance with aplomb, spending far more time than I was comfortable with in the opposite lane of the busy two-lane highway as he passed slower vehicles.

I turned and talked with Monica. I asked her how she could deal with all sorts of accidents. She said that she had gotten used to it and that she loved her work. She's been doing it 17 years and likes being able to help. I asked if there were many women paramedics and she said not in the lake area.

When we stopped at our place, several of the neighbor women who hang out in the street stared at us , so I told them briefly what had happened, and then Kelly and I collapsed in exhaustion in the motorhome, two very happy campers that it hadn't been worse.

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Both Kelly and I were very pleased with the quality and speed of the care he received. It was a very Mexican experience, and certainly quite basic, but it did the job. Nobody spoke any English, but our Spanish was adequate. Knowing what I know now, in an emergency, I would ask to go to a private clinic that had emergency facilities. The public Mexican health care system has sure come a long way over the decades I've been coming to Mexico, but the private system is generally way better.

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Yesterday Kelly rested, his healing coming along. We decided to go to a highly-recommended private clinic a couple of miles away, Clinica MasKaras in Riberas del Pilar, for a follow-up visit. When I called, I actually asked for a house call, which is common in Mexico, but the receptionist had me talk to the doctor and he said he would prefer that Kelly come in, and so we did this morning.

The clinic has a number of doctors, and the internist Dr. Garcia (who is the head doctor there) saw Kelly this morning, Saturday. He was fine with my sitting in on everything. Everyone spoke good English. The internist did a thorough interview of Kelly's medical history, entering everything in a computer. Then he ordered more x-rays, and not surprisingly these occurred in the same building. There was a short wait while the radiologist came from Chapala, not far away.
Kelly did turn out to have one broken rib, so he was given a brace. The broken rib was just a little higher up than the original x-ray had shown. There were some other things that the doctor wants to monitor closely, though nothing likely to be serious, and we will be going back tomorrow morning. That's a Sunday. Kelly will be examined tomorrow by another doctor, and so Dr. Garcia asked the other doctor to examine Kelly today so he'd know how to compare Kelly's reactions to being poked and prodded (my phrase, not his) on the two days.

Again, we were impressed with the skill. We had been warned that this clinic sees a lot of the local foreign population from Ajijic and other town along Lake Chapala, and so prices would be higher. The cost today was $35 US for the doctor, $90 US for several x-rays, and about $20 US for the brace Kelly was given.

Update to follow. We will be staying here for at least another month, for Kelly to heal.

Finding and riding local buses in Mexico

It's great that you can go anywhere in Mexico by bus, but it's also a mixed bag. Here's the saga of my day today:

I decided to go to the nearby small city of Chapala, as today was the weekly tianguis or outdoor market. Kelly was off hiking with a friend, so I would be on my own. I asked the advice of the old lady who lives across the street from where we are staying, and she told me where the local bus stops. Once there, luckily there was another woman already waiting or I might not have been sure I was in the right place. Some 15 minutes later, the bus arrived and it was totally full, mostly with women and small children. I braced myself for the stops and starts, and it wasn't bad. The trip took less than 10 minutes.

A local guidebook in English said where you could catch the bus back, so I figured I had that covered and I set out to explore the downtown and the tianguis. It was fun, though only the pier out to Lake Chapala was unusual for a Mexican town. Eventually, done with things, I left the market area and headed for the street the bus goes on. I noticed I was right near the large supermarket Soriana, so I crossed the busy highway to go into it for a few things.

Just as I did, a bus came up. Well, I didn't need those things badly enough to pass up a bus, but this one wasn't going to San Antonio Tlayacapan. However, the driver told me the bus I needed stopped directly across the highway at 25 after the hour. It was 10 after now, so I dashed in and got my things. I was at the correct bus stop at 25 after.

Nobody else was there. Bad sign. I thought of going back to Soriana and taking the taxi which would cost about 40 pesos compared to 5 for the bus. That's roughly $4 US versus 50 cents. I decided to wait for the bus.

So I waited. And waited. And waited. A bus that said Chapala-Ajijic went by on the little side road. I waved at it, but it didn't stop.

After about 20 minutes, I decided to walk towards the center of town, where the guidebook said I would catch the bus. As I did that, I began to think it would be nice to find a bathroom. But I didn't need one badly enough to try the only one I saw, quite funky looking.

By now, I decided I would take a taxi or a bus, whatever came first. A taxi came but it was past me so fast I didn't even get my arm in the air. Oh well, I wouldn't likely have cared for the driver's style. Then I missed another one.

Then a bus passed me. By now I was walking into the center of town. The bus was stopped just ahead of me, so I ran and got in the line of people. But it wasn't going to San Antonio.

I noticed a foreign man of roughly my age was also turned away from the bus, so when he and I were both walking down the street a little further on, I asked him about the bus situation. He didn't live in the Lake Chapala area but often stays in Ajijic, and we contiued walking together down the street, to his favorite bus stop. Two buses came up, and one long-distance style bus had a lot of places hand-written on it. I didn't recognize any of them. The man noticed that the bus said JOCOTEPEC over the windshield. That was further than where we were going, and in the right direction. We got on, and there were just a few seats. I sat next to a young Mexican woman who dozed off.

After a while, drunken singing came from the back of the bus. The guy wasn't bad.

Once in San Antonio, I got off on the highway and walked the few short blocks home.

The bus rides were the easy part... finding the buses was the challenge!

Starting the New Year with a Mexican Mass

New Year's Eve is lively in Mexico, and we heard fireworks, a brass band, and partying till long after midnight last night. So I was a bit tired when I joined some American friends for mass this morning.

I'm not a Catholic and probably would have felt a bit too self-conscious to go on my own. I don't know when to sit, stand, or kneel, let alone how to cross myself. But my awkwardness dissolved as I waited for my friends in front of the church and watched the people arriving. Warm greeting were exchanged, and quite a few were directed to me. Several young men arrived with their guitars.

We sat near the back of the church, and I couldn't follow a lot of the words spoken -- partly because of my Spanish and also because a couple of times, vehicles were slowly going by outside with loudspeakers announcing something.

At one point I heard the word esperanza, which means hope, and I let my mind wander around the importance of hope. Maybe I'll make a habit of repeating esperanza to myself at times, like when I'm just waiting for something or doing the dishes. That isn't quite a New year's resolution -- it's more lightly held.

I did understand the bit where prayers were offered for factory workers, for people without jobs, for people who were alone or ill, and more. I added my prayer for my friends and family in California and Oregon, regions currently going through heavy storms and flooding. Kelly I used to live in two of the places we'd seen in the online news -- near the Russian river in Sonoma County, California, and near the top of the Siskiyou summit pass on I-5 just south of Ashland, Oregon. The pass had been closed for a while. We were stunned that two places so far apart were hit at the same time.

Near the end of the service, the congregation sang the Our Father, in a tune I didn't recognize but I guessed that's what it was from the zestfulness of the participation. I liked how people were standing with their arms out and palms facing upward, in a universal gesture of receiving.

My favorite part of the whole service was when we shook hands with several people nearby, wishing each other "la paz" or the peace of Christ. It was a lovely connection. I'll pass it on now, by wishing you, dear reader, your own inner peace in whatever form it comes.

Ah, this seems like a good spot for this photo of a tile on a house. It translates roughly as "Each time there is a hole (or hollow) in your life, fill it with love."