This is my first attempt at a blog. I was born in the US but now I live in Baja California, Mexico. I live a peaceful, relaxed lifestyle here. How did I end up living in a foreign country?
As the US economy rages with it financial distress, I can feel the pain of the people who have recently lost a job, or their home, or both. My husband and I have, as they say. been there, done that. We have lost everything at some point throughout our thirty eight years of married life.
So here we are: with no retirement savings to speak of: What? We spent it while raising our three children? We actually did! Oh, how I can feel the pain of those who have lost their retirement savings with the downturn of the stock market.
That house that was supposed to be the financial hedge for retirement? Gone? Yup! We lost ours during the last “recession” . Taking care of my mother during her final years lead to medical and convalescent center bills, which compounded by the loss of my husband’s job, lead ultimately to a bankruptcy.
So here we are living La Vida Dulce in Mexico. We own our modest home outright, as well as the land it sits on. When we made the decision to relocate here, I had only been in Mexico about three times in my entire life. In fact, the most outstanding memory I had of being in Mexico was that of my mother, as we approached the re-entry to the US in San Diego. She convinced me, since I was all of seven years old with dark eyes and hair, that the authorities might not let me back into the US!
When we decided to relocate, I was reassured by the fact that my husband had spent a lot of time in Baja California while growing up because much of his extended family lived here. Six years ago I agreed that, financially, moving here was our best option. I have to say that it has been one of our better decisions!
Despite what the media and hegemony of the US says, I feel safe here. There is violence here, but unless one is part of the political realm, or law enforcement, or the narco-trafficers, it is extremely unusual to even be aware of it. Every time I read or hear how dangerous it is here, I think of the bullet hole in the upstairs bedroom of the home we once owned in an upper middle class neighborhood in San Diego. (A shot came through my son’s open window- thankfully, he was not there at the time.) I remember the children attending the elementary school where I worked whose lives were impacted by drug use within their own families. I really believe that I am safer here than in my hometown in the US!
So much for my soapbox! What I really want to write about is what life is really like on our little Mexican homestead. If you want to discover the simple life in Mexico, stay tuned.