Going, going…

December 16, 2007

The Mexican government, in its infinite wisdom, allows holders of a residence visa a one time pass on importing household goods into Mexico without paying any customs.  This pass is good for six months from the issuance of the visa.

 I always thought that I would sell my house, and then pack everything and move down to Mexico along with my chattel.  Then the bottom fell out of the housing market, and it became clear that my one time pass was about to expire, whether the house was sold or not.

My worldly goods had to go–with or without me. So last week, a crew of five guys and a 53 foot trailer pulled up in front of my house, and began to pack and load my stuff for the trip down to San Miguel. 

All was going well–until they inserted the prongs of the forklift under the crate containing my Ganesha (surely you remember my Ganesha).  The forklift died, and then it began to snow, as we stood there in the alley, halfway out of my garage.  After a certain amount of hysteria (that would be on my part), and some quick brainstorming (that would be on the crew’s part), another forklift was procured, and by 7 PM, I was standing ankle deep in snow waving goodbye to everything I owned.

Two days later the moving company (who I cannot recommend highly enough, if any of you decide to move anywhere in the world) called me in my newly Zenlike house to tell me my trailer would be in San Miguel on Friday, and would I be there to meet it?  (Just try to get a last minute ticket to Mexico around Xmas–it can’t be done.)

I called my architect in hysterics (it’s beginning to be a way of life)–and told him that he had to receive my stuff for me.  He started to apoligize for the fact that my house wasn’t done–and I said, “I don’t care about the house–just take care of my elephant!” 

Last night (or, as it turned out because of the snowstorm, early this morning), I left Chicago to come down here and see all my things in situ.  The sun is shining in San Miguel and I just bought an ice cream from my favorite street vendor.  The people in the hotel I’ve stayed at before, welcomed me and told me to feel their casa was my casa, and that they lived right on the premises if I needed anything.

Tomorrow is the big day–when I see my Ganesha standing tall in his new home…and then I have to meet with my attorney to deal with the little issue of the 68 boxes of Turkish towels I ordered when I was in Bursa, that are still sitting in a warehouse in Laredo–because somehow the Mexican government couldn’t fathom why I felt 1200 towels were a necessary part of my household goods…

To be continued…