Wednesday, August 31, 2011

for whom the bell tolls


"Well, it just goes to show you, it's always something -- if it ain't one thing, it's another."


Or so Roseanna Roseannadanna said.  And she was correct.


One of the interesting aspects of traveling is learning how to accomplish tasks we never think of.  How to find an internet café.  Where to pay the light bill.  What happens when there is no water.


Or –- how to deal with the garbage.


In Melaque, I bag up my garbage and place it in what looks like a very inefficient charcoal grill (to keep the scavenging animals away from the bag -- even though the clever grackles are very good at untying knots).  The garbage truck then picks it up in the morning.  Six days a week.  Great service.  And I never have to think about it.


On my first day in
Pátzcuaro, Felipe told me that is not the way things are done here.  I need to listen for the cow bell.


At first, I thought this was the highlands equivalent of a snipe hunt.  A little ribbing of the new guy.


It turns out, that is exactly what I needed to listen for.  The garbage truck drives through the neighborhood.  And like a reenactment of the Monty Python "Bring Out Your Dead" skit, the neighbors drag out their garbage bags that are then tossed in the truck -- and driven off to wherever the garbage is buried in Pátzcuaro.


The alternative is to take the garbage into town and navigate through the local market with your bags in search of the Holy Dumpster. 


I opted to wait for the peal of the bell.  But, in the four weeks I have been here, I never heard it toll for me.  I suspect I was either away from the house on my trips or deep asleep in bed when the truck came by.


But not Tuesday morning.  Well, I was still in bed because I had been on the telephone until 2 AM.  Let’s just call it my Martha Mitchell period.


For some reason I woke up around 7:30 and heard a bell.  Not one of the many church bells.  The garbage bell.  I had seen the truck around town.  So, I knew the sound.  But I was certainly in no position to run out the door.


I grabbed my shorts, a shirt, and my sandals.  Dug the door keys out of my long pants.  And dashed down the stairs to grab the two bags of garbage in the atrium.  Fumbled with the front door lock.  And rushed down the street to where the neighbors were gathering with their respective body bags.


I caught a glimpse of myself in a car window.  I looked like some crazed Santa Claus on vacation in the Caribbean -- who could not leave his work behind.


And, of course, the next door neighbors, who I had never met, were also bringing their garbage out at the same time.  It was hardly an Emily Post moment.  But we introduced ourselves, chatted a bit, and went our respective ways.


It was a good overture for the day.  Because I have started winding down for my eventual departure on Thursday morning.


Today was the day I was lunching with Felipe and Lady Zapata.  To thank them not only for the use of the condominium, but for their perfect host manners.  They were always available with information when I needed  it.  But they let me follow my own nose for adventure during August.  They are grand people.


I also made my rounds in the Grand Plaza.  Several people greeted me by name.  I stopped by the last performance of The Importance of Being Earnest.  The cast was lunching with the audience members.  It gave me a good opportunity to see several people I have met during my month here in Pátzcuaro.  People who have helped me feel part of the local social scene.


And that is going to make my assessment of what I want to do next in Mexico both easier -- and a bit more difficult.


But that is a topic for another post.  Maybe later in the week. 


For now, I have one more visit to make to Santa Clara de Cobre.  And when I have shared my experience there, I will be on the road to Melaque.

36 comments:

Felipe Zapata said...

They are grand people. How true. Thanks for noticing.

Christine said...

Steve, I have a complaint. You are my favorite Mexpatriate blogger.  Especially now that Felipe is gone. I have been reading your blog on and off since you still lived in Oregon.  BUT what is missing from your blog for me is even the slightest clue regarding the appearance or the personalities of, or details of the conversations with, the people you meet. Imagine reading a novel with a great plot and fantastic place descriptions but with NO characterization. Compliments, "they are grand people" etc. hardly make up for this lack. I suspect that the people you meet are probably a big part of your experiences. Thus you are really giving your faithful readers a Reader's Digest version, or (how you say it?) "boulderised" version of what is going on for you in your adventures. End of complaint. Affectionately, Christine

Steve Cotton said...

Interesting is what I strive to be.

Steve Cotton said...

I understand your frustration. But personal conversations are, well, personal. It may be my attorney background, but I would be rather offended if I had a conversation with someone and the next thing I knew it was posted on the internet. With some of my acquaintances, I am stretching the limit merely by mentioning their names. Complaint noted.

jennifer rose said...

The people with whom Steve interacts weren't put on this part of the planet to satisfy blog readers' curiosity. Is there some part of "personality" that you don't understand? Starting with "personal," perhaps. Where did you get the idea that a blog was a novel? There is no plot; there are no personalities. It's about place. Steve isn't going to have many friends if he starts publishing the details of every interaction and conversation he has with those folks. Even in *bowdlerized* versions.

Tancho said...

Wow you get a real garbage truck. We only have an old pickup truck with bags hanging over the sideboard, which we have to chase down. Otherwise we schlep it down to behind the market by the bus station.

Babsofsanmiguel said...

We have the same setup here for garbage.  However Javier takes it down to the corner, so you weren't inconvenienced.

BTW, check out the weather forecast.  Bad weather Thursday, they say, heading straight for your path home.  Projected 4-6 inches of rain with the possibility of 12 inches along with mud slides, etc.  It seems the tropical storm is going to become bigger and more dangerous.  Take care.

Irene said...

I have thoroughly enjoyed your visit to Pátzcuaro.  I look forward to further adventures.  And now I am going to have go watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  I love the "bring out your dead" scene. 

Don Cuevas said...

Sorry we won't get to visit with you again before you head back to Melaque.
Que te vaya muy bien.

Saludos,Don y Doña Cuevas 

Don Cuevas said...

Jennifer speaks straight as ever.

Saludos,Don Cuevas 

Steve Cotton said...

Frank discussions would certainly come to an end.

Steve Cotton said...

This place is real uptown.

Bob in Exile said...

Jennifer said there{s no plot and no personalities.. That's a B.Traven story right there...No heros ..'[The Treasure of the Sierra Madres".
 Listening for the cowbell... one morning in Puebla I ran to throw my garbage on the truck...there was an American lady doing the same... I told her.. "We've got to stop meeting this way".

Steve Cotton said...

This may be one aspect where the coast wins on efficiency. I wander why the difference?

Thanks for the notice on the weather. It has been raining steadily here this afternoon. If I need to, I can always stop and spend the night along the way.

Steve Cotton said...

It was a slow pitch across the plate.

Steve Cotton said...

You left out "direct."

Steve Cotton said...

I get the impression the beach may be the odd man out in the garbage process.

Jackie Martinez said...

Thanks Steve for sharing Patzcuaro with us. I've loved all the pictures.  My husband and I have had many discussions about where we would like to retire in Mexico.  Patzcuaro has always been towards the top of the list.
Jackie Martinez

Steve Cotton said...

It was near the top of mine, as well.  Still is.

Kim G said...

More Cow Bell!!! 

LOL... I was hoping that wasn't already written.

In F's neighborhood the signal is a whistle.  And then we all scramble out with our trash, hoping fervently that the truck won't be too far down the street before we arrive. And in typical Mexican tradition, tips are expected. In fact, that may well be what pays for the service. I'm not sure. Did you have to fork over cash too?

I too have enjoyed your visit to Pátzcuaro.

C'mon back soon, ya hear?

Saludos,

Kim G
Boston, MA
Where we'd also like to return to Pátzcuaro one day.

P.S.  To Christina--

I think what Steve is providing is the "Salemized" version, given his provenance.

baldwin said...

I was house sitting San Miguel de Allende and the owner told me that I was to catch her garbage man when he rang his bell--at 6 am 'approximately'--I decided that I would not make any garbage! In Merida, the guys come 3x's a week and pick it up w/o the beeps and honks. I do appreciate the early morning social aspect; my friend in SMA later learned to pay the neighbor kids the night before to take her garbage!

Steve Cotton said...

If tips are the custom, I stiffed the hand that rings the bell.

I suspect I will be back.

Felipe Zapata said...

In theory, it's a free service, but I always give them a few pesos, usually five.

Felipe Zapata said...

Christine: I'm not gone. I just changed styles and universe.

Steve Cotton said...

Now I know.  That may explain the rather stunned look.

Steve Cotton said...

Well, my neighbors certainly got to see more of me than I have shown anywhere but the beach.

Bob in Exile said...

These guys are on the lowest scale of minimum wage... probably about $5 dollars a day tops. So a few pesos tip is appreciated.... If they ever go on strike...they will be sorely missed and after about a week you'll hear the screams of the local citizenry.

Steve Cotton said...

And pay I shall. I am always pleased when someone will haul my trash.

Christine said...

Dorothy Parker is weeping.

Christine said...

oh good! I will look for you.

Christine said...

Tee hee! You could be right. And in fairness to Steve, although I miss his sins of omissions, as I described in my original rant, it is true that his own personality comes through pretty well-- so at least there is one character. 

Steve Cotton said...

But Dorothy dined alone -- a lot.

Steve Cotton said...

Take a look at http://unseenmoon.wordpress.com/

Christine said...

Oh, there must be a middle ground. Maybe he could occasionally ask permission? I can't believe the people he meets are so thin skinned as all that.

Ric Hoffman said...

In Mexico you will find sounds and signals for everything from trash trucks, knife sharpners, scrap metal collectors, gas deliveries, veggies hawkers, homemade tortillas and much more. 
At my house I just leave a coin or two on top of the Home Depot purchased trash can  and they come to door and empty it every time they are in the neighborhood.  No fuss, no muss, it gets emptied even if I forget to leave a tip.

Steve Cotton said...

One of my joys in Melaque was learning the difference between the various bells, honks, whistles,Tarzan calls, and shouts. It has been interesting discovering the differences between my fishing village by the sea and your fishing village by the lake. I suspect my education will re-commence before too long.