Happy Birthday Sergio!
Today is his 56th birthday, and he is celebrating about 55 years of eating chilis, as salsa is one of the most common foods in a Mexican household. Kids start eating salsa before they can even chew tortillas! It's a super important source of Vitamin C for the people here.
Enjoy the video and please click through and SUBSCRIBE to our YouTube channel, too.
We are taking advantage of the kitchen here in this fabulous AirBnB and taping some cooking demos. This video is Sergio making salsa. We also have a video over on Instagram of him dancing salsa, which is one of our highest viewed posts so far. : D
Did you know that chili peppers are indigenous to Mexico? They are extremely high in vitamin C- a half cup of them provides over 100% of the RDA.
One delicious seasonal twist is to add mango to your salsa. Mango is indigenous to Africa and India, and was introduced to Mexico by the Spanish.
One of the true joys in life is eating a ripe mango in Mexico straight from the tree. That right there should be on your bucket list and is reason to spend late summer / early fall in Mexico.
It is an amazing fruit that provides a natural sweetness that pairs well with fish or chicken. This salsa is not my favorite for breakfast salsa but that is just personal preference. I do not like sweet things on eggs. Yuk. If you like spicy heat, try this recipe with habanero pepper. Just be careful - turn on the fan and open windows when you roast the peppers, and use gloves to cut them up. Sergio never uses gloves, but he has got a lifetime of hot chili conditioning. We've taped a few more videos and will be posting those in the next 2 weeks after we move to our new place, a tiny apartment with great big internet connection that will make it much easier to upload videos. Enjoy the video and please subscribe to the YouTube channel! â Thank you!
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I have stayed in 40 Airbnb’s since I ditched my lease 3 years ago.
That number would be higher except for the fact that we spent a year in an apartment in Mexcio City. As we watched Airbnb rates go up by about 30% due to increased tourism by the coveted millennial crowd, I decided to take on the life experience of leasing an apartment in CDMX. It was a little cheaper over the course of the year, it had great light for shooting video, and we were 10 minutes on bike to gorgeous Chapultepec Park. Even so, I was happy to let the lease go after a year. The kitchen was about the size of a ship’s galley, and since we were in an apartment and not on a yacht, the charm of a doll size stove and tiny counter wore off after about a week. There was a ridiculous, unsafe policy that residents were not given keys to the front door of the building. The doorman had to provide access anytime we wanted to leave or enter the building. I tried not to think about what would happen if there was a fire and “el Poli” (as the doormen are known here) passed out before he had a chance to unlock the front door. Apart from that, at the end of our lease, we had the chance to house sit and take care of a sweet dog in Todos Santos, Mexico. Free rent, and we were ready for a change of scenery. Vamanos! While we were in Todos Santos, we went to La Paz about once a week for groceries, maybe a movie, and hang out in a coffee shop with decent wif. Each time we visited, I kept thinking, this town is interesting in a non-glitzy, non-Cabo kind of way. So, after we finished up in Todos, we decamped to La Paz instead of Cabo. A brief perusal of rents showed us we can live like ricos for about $900 a month rent, and live just fine for even less. The other day, weighing options and tradeoffs, I realized we are not super fired up to move just now. I’ve got some US travel coming up and hurricanes are brewing up along the southern coast of mainland Mexico that could definitely rain on our parade along our route back. So, long story short, it makes more sense and, just as importantly, sounds more fun, to stay in La Paz for a few months. A trip to a gorgeous beach and equally sublime swimming hole in the mountains sealed the deal. You’ll be hearing more about what we discover here in La Paz in the upcoming months. This post covers one of the nicest surprise of all, that has no doubt colored our good impression of the town. The Airbnb we are in right now is the best one we have stayed in yet, based our slow travel lens of staying more than a couple weeks and working online. TIP: Here is a long term stay tip for Airbnb: Try to stay at least a month because the discount can be substantial. In fact, even if we aren’t going to be someplace the whole month, I always compare the 30 day rate for the exact number of days, say 25 to 27 days. Often the monthly rate is cheaper. I'll cover specific reasons why the current AirBnB is the best one we have stayed in so far. This is in the context of the fact that Sergio and I are very different travelers in one key aspect. I share this perspective because you may have a similar dynamic with your partner. He is the perfect travel partner in many ways - he is very open to new experiences, new people, and new environments. He has a lot of energy. He has lived outside of his comfort zone most of his life, so to him, change is not scary. Sergio is more outgoing than I am, his Spanish is obviously better than mine, and his willingness to ask anyone about anything definitely opens up experiences that I could not have source on my own. In Mexico, there is still a strong tradition of “ask the locals” if you need information. It is not uncommon for me to be on google maps at the same time he is yelling out the car window to someone on the street for directions. Also, now that he knows sourcing local food is important to me, he makes it Job One to find out which señora has the chickens, who the local pig farmer is (if there is one), is there a local dairy cow, who sells honey, and times and location for the traditional tianguis. The only major travel-style difference between us is this: His definition of travel necessities and mine are at opposite ends of the backpack. To him, travel size toiletries include a jumbo shampoo from Costco and 2 spare tubes of toothpaste. We have boxes of kitchen spices and other mystery items that now follow us around. For our stay in Todos Santos, he packed a big suitcase with a heavy coat and sweaters, which we didn’t need, and he told me later he couldn’t fit the fan in the car, which we definitely could have put to good use. I’m not sniping at him behind his back, he knows this is a sore point for me and I know he wishes I would relax about how changing locations is beginning to feel like we are moving a small Mexican village. We have talked about this at length. I’m not saying my perspective is necessarily “right”. Just because it doesn’t bother me to wear the same 4 things all the time, I can see how someone else would see that as boring, especially if that person is an artsy, extroverted, attractive Mexican man. One of the challenges of slow travel with someone of a collecting mindset is this: it gives them more time to accumulate. This is probably worth its own blog post, and definitely worth a conversation if you are planning on travel with your partner. The compromise we have worked out is we each have our own suitcases and once those are full, no más. Sounds good, right? Actual results vary as extra duffel bags appear out of nowhere, bigger suitcases replace medium sized “maletas” - oh well, its a work in progress. Airbnb Obviously, I am a fan of Airbnb. We make new friends, learn about the local community, and save a ton of money over hotel stays. I also rack up airline miles because I use my credit card to pay, something I couldn't do when we were paying a lease. We spend between $700 and $1000 per month with Airbnb. We have spent less, but rarely more. We eat better and spend less on food because we can cook most of the time at home, even though home changes every couple of months. Airbnb acquired most of the smaller vacation rental websites over the past few years. I wish they still had some real competition. It would force them to improve their website and core offering. More about that later, too. With that as a backdrop, here we go: The current Airbnb we are in is the Best One So Far. This is why: Location: we are 2 blocks from the beach boardwalk, restaurants, and coffee shops. Also, La Paz is cheaper than CDMX. For the price of a typical one bedroom Airbnb in Mexico City, we are getting two bedrooms instead of one. We are paying $960 for this unit for 32 nights. Condition: Newly remodeled, spacious and very clean. Parking: A garage with a solid door, not just a gate. Privacy: A freestanding apartment over a garage with lots of natural light. For now, it has no common walls with another unit . From our patio we have a view of rooftops, the ocean beyond, and signs of another unit under construction next door. It apparently not on the fast track, as no one has worked on it since we arrived. Fine by me! It is very quiet. Much quieter than Todos Santos, which is a fraction of the size of La Paz but overrun with dogs, roosters and big beach trucks with speakers booming out the local top 40 Latin hits. Kitchen: A nice long island that doubles as a project space or dining table on one end. The 6 burner gas stove is almost bigger than our entire kitchen was in our Mexico City apt. I was rubbing my peepers in disbelief at that one. Gas stoves are very common in Mexico, which is good news for people who like to cook. New modern full size fridgie. No dishwasher, but I have yet to see a dishwasher in Mexico, other than the young men in the back of the restaurants, powering through mountains of dishes. Perhaps the luxe rentals include one, I’ve never checked. Sergio wouldn’t use it anyway, if we had one, he barely tolerates the modern washing machines. He declares they don’t get clothes as clean as the traditional scrub and rinse method his abuela, madre and tias all used. Again, fine by me, there are only two of us, so the dirty dish burden is pretty light. The tradeoff is Mexicans do not believe in drying dishes. Every Mexican kitchen I’ve ever been in has a mountain of precariously balanced dishes drying in a drying rack. The bigger the family or event, the higher the altitude. In many kitchens in Mexico, cooking is usually about to happen, happening, or just happened, so this means the dishes in the drying rack are a permanent fixture on the countertop. As someone who really appreciates vast expanses of clutter free countertops, I have had to choose my battles on that one, and just grab a towel and start drying. There is a cultural bias in Mexico toward saving and collecting, it is one of the things that makes it such an attractive emerging middle class market for Walmart et al. As you might guess, Sergio is no exception. We are in an evolving negotiation so we don’t end up with every empty surface hosting an assortment of things that, in my opinion, would be much more comfortable behind the closed door of a cupboard. To his eternal credit, although he doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want as many of your belongings as possible out in plain sight all the time, he knows it makes me happy to have things put away, so he does try to do so. Plenty of dishes and utensils for cooking. A complete set of pots and pans. 4 knives for food prep, 2 of them are even sharp. A toaster oven. A Mr. Coffee coffee maker, but that doesn’t matter as I always BMOFP - bring my own french press. Laundry: Full size washer and dryer in a dedicated laundry room, not at the end of the kitchen, outside on a patio, or tucked under the counter in the bathroom. The space has enough room to turn around. This also almost never happens. We don’t use the dryer but it is nice to know its an option if we get several days of rain. Living area: The decor sports a cute non-garish beach theme. There is not just one comfy chair but 2 sofas and a recliner. This is a miracle in Mexico where the seating is often spectacularly uncomfortable. Big screen TV - we don’t watch TV so this isn’t a big deal to us. We have switched it on to watch soccer once or twice. I need to buy an HDMI cable so we can plug my laptop in and watch Netflix. Bedroom: 2 bedrooms! In this price range in Mexico City, 2 bedrooms would be a rarity. Each with a big closet. One bedroom is big enough to put my “office” in the corner. Again, this almost never happens. Plenty of hangers. We can put everything away, including empty suitcases. Can I tell you how happy that makes me? Bathroom: Even apart from the awesome kitchen, THIS is the reason this Airbnb gets the current “Best in Class” award. I don’t know why so many Airbnb hosts assume their guests don’t have more than a travel size bottle of shampoo and toothbrush to stash during their stay. Even if you aren’t like my Meximan, who packs a year supply of products for every hygiene or medical contingency, the bathrooms in most Airbnbs are waaay short on storage space. For us, the predictable result is that within 2 hours of arrival, our bathroom counter look like inventory week at the local Walgreens. Or, more accurately for Mexico, the corner Farmacia during a tres por dos (3 for 2) sale. Not this time! Hallelujah chorus, this bathroom has deep drawers so we can put all of our toiletries away. ALL OF THEM. This makes me so much happier than it should. There is a big shower with natural light. The toilet is low flush. This should be much more common, especially in the US. When I drove to LA and back from SF a few years ago during a drought, there were signs everywhere to conserve water. Sadly, the toilets in every hotel I stayed in, as well as all the restaurants along the way, were still the traditional whooshing waterchugging models. And there you have it, many of the elements of a perfect Airbnb The only complaint, and for me this is a biggie, is the internet is not reliable. At all. I thought it would be better in La Paz but it is actually worse than in Todos Santos. In Mexico City we had great internet, it rarely dropped out. The Mexican government understands the importance of infrastructure, and Baja has received major upgrades to highways and telecom, especially after category 4 hurricane Odile slammed the area in 2014. For La Paz, there are long term solutions in the works - a project to bury the trunk line from the mainland under the ocean floor will improve service here. Reports say it will be here by February, one can always hope but that seems optimistic even by Mexican standards. Fiber optic is present in the city, and right now there are streets torn up to install more cables, but most of the residences do not have fiber optic access right now. For now, the best upgrade is via the Mexican phone carrier TelCel. They have a high speed data package for residential internet. So now I have a massive craving for one of their little white modems. You would think it would be simply a matter of dropping by the Telcel office and picking one up, right? Well, this is Mexico, so you would be wrong. More about that later. What are your top 2 - 3 non-negotiables for a longer term stay? If you don’t know, here is a fun exercise I read about a few years ago that can help you figure that out: Pack what you think you will need and put all the rest of your stuff away in boxes or a separate closet. Then live for a month with just those things. Keep track of what you miss, need more of, or don’t end up using at all. This is like a dry run for the real thing and can make your first long term trip packing experience easier. Let us know if you try that, and thanks for reading! PS - If you are interested in viewing this listing on Airbnb, click HERE. As I experiment and play with different ways of connecting online, I am signing up for some podcast interviews. Originally the main intention was to spread the word more about The Ultimate System for Fab Videos, Finally Done, my program to teach female entrepreneurs who are the face of their business to create and leverage smart phone videos. It quickly became apparent that there was quite a bit of interest in how I am building not just my company, but also this slow travel lifestyle. That makes me happy because years ago, when work was in one silo and "time off" (aka life) was in another, I felt like my persona was split. I have never been good at pretending, and I didn't want to be one person at work and a different one outside of that role. I hated the feeling that I was living for the weekend. Later, when I worked flex time, that fit my personality better, but the conundrum flip flopped. Work felt better, but with kids in school and a spouse that worked a traditional schedule, I felt like our family was chained to a M-F march. When I turned my life upside down and shook it out 4 years ago to embark on the field trip of my dreams, one of my goals was to get to the point where all of my activities were aligned into one joy-full life. After this podcast, I thought about it and realized that goal sort of snuck up on me - I'm happy to report that I have arrived. That doesn't mean I love every second of every day. That expectation is, of course, unrealistic and a formula for disappointment. Like everyone, I still struggle with attachments to the way I think things should be, and sometimes resent Life when She doesn't cooperate. So, there are still some very "hard" days, but travel is a great teacher to broaden your perspective on hard work, risk, and struggle. Seeing more of the world has shown me that simply because of where I was born, and to whom, I am incredibly fortunate and have no margin for feeling sorry for myself. To the contrary, I feel like its my job to push even harder on the possibilities. To even have the choice to take on the risk to live and work this way and set the stage to achieve wider impact is nothing short of a miracle. I haven't perfected the panning process, but I am finding gold in disappointments, boredom, hard things, uncertainty, being uncomfortable, money worries, stuff I suck at, and failing big time. Thursday I was honored to be invited to speak on Louis di Bianco's Change Your Story, Change Your Life podcast. He is a walking library of book references about entrepreneurship, risk taking, and futurecasting. I could have talked with him all day! In this podcast we talk about how I started on this journey, insights along the way, and basic steps to exploring the idea of slow travel, even before you make the leap. Click HERE to listen. Louis says:
"You’ll be engaged, entertained, perhaps even encouraged to live your own adventure as you listen to Kala. Here are a few nuggets from today’s podcast:
Thanks Louis! : ) Here is a link to the interview: PODCAST Be sure to check out the rest of his podcasts, too! The house (and animals) we are caring for sits on a corner lot in the local barrio in south Todos Santos, not in the gringo developments to the north. It is a traditional Mexican home, and no, I'm not referring to the Hacienda tradition. The house is a solid, squat single-level concrete box with a nice wide patio on 2 sides. It has survived about 30 years of hurricanes, an important advantage to note when one is house sitting during hurricane season. It is not fancy by US standards, but with 2 bedrooms, a sala (living room), an entryway, a large defined kitchen, and generous assortment of windows, it's a nicer house than many in this local's barrio section of Todos Santos. I say "defined" kitchen because, in many of the starter houses here, the layout is basically one room to live in and a bedroom or two. The kitchen is over in a corner where it was easiest to put in plumbing, and a bathroom is usually somewhere on the other side of a wall from that, even if it means the door to the only bathroom in the house opens out onto the living room. Depending upon where the electric outlets are, the fridge might be next to the couch, you never know. And why not? This makes for easy access to the chelas (beers) while watching futbol on the big screen that invariably dominates the small room even in some of the smallest homes. I'm kidding, sort of. The starter house is very common because many people add on to a house as you go. Mortgages are not readily available here. There are no personal construction loans, building codes or permits for adding onto personal property. For entrepreneurial families with a little extra room on their lot, this freedom of construction is a boon. I have seen small tiendas, salons, tiny restaurants, and even auto repair businesses sprout up in front of the main house. If you can afford the bags of Cemex, re-bar, chelas and tacos for your crew and electrician cousin, you can have a house raising anytime. This is why you will see re-bar sticking out of the roof of one story homes all over Mexico - the house isn’t done yet. A second level is in the works as the family cash flow improves, even if that means 10 years from now Our house is located on the last dirt road before you enter the desert just south of town. This is also the main road to the local’s beach, Punta Lobos. (Wolf Point). After the sugar industry left Todos Santos in the early 1900's, and before tourism became a thing in the late 1990's, Todos Santos was a fisherman’s town. Many of the people here are from fishing families, and a core group of men still fish most days. In the mornings and late afternoons, their pickup trucks roar by, sending a fine cloud of dust wafting over the whole intersection, including our house. We have no AC and the dust is so fearsome that I don’t dare unpack my iMac until I find a temporary office with AC nearby. We walk Chiki, our tri-lingual Blue Heeler, every morning before it gets too hot. We see the fishermen's trucks drive by most days. One particular morning, a middle-aged fisherman sits on an overturned bucket at the corner, waiting on his ride. He has on an old shirt, high water pants (a practicality, not a fashion violation), and ancient flip-flops. He is the color of a medium roast coffee bean. Has no UV approved hat, no sunglasses, and I bet there isn't any sunscreen in his extra shirt that is tied to create a makeshift knapsack, either. I have no insider information, but my guess is there is a hierarchy social order among the fishermen - those with boats, and those with an upturned bucket to sit on, who perhaps help the boat owners with their launch or even as crew. This is understandable - given the option of hanging around a hot dusty town doing nothing, or hanging around the beach sitting on your upturned bucket, doing almost nothing, with your fishing buddies - which would you choose? I see him as I exit our yard gate with Chiki. An old pickup truck, blaring Mexican music and full of loud men, happy to be on their way to the beach, pulls up and stops to let the man get on. They are laughing and a couple of them stare at me. The woman who lives in this house is American, married to a Mexican, but apart from that, gringas are not common in this corner of Todos Santos. I say Buenos Dias and get some very enthused responses. Sergio, who had run back to grab his keys, then exits the gate. The men in the bed of the truck look a little surprised to see him, too. My Meximan, who was born and raised in Mexico City, can size up a social situation in a microsecond and respond accordingly. He unconsciously swings his Spanish to a more relaxed, slangy dialect, projects his voice over the truck noise and the music, and continues the banter with them. It is obvious we are visitors in this house. He’s sending a message that 1) we know the owners 2) I’m with him, and 3) he is friendly but he’s neither a clueless rico nor a country bumpkin. I have a confession - I love to watch Mexican men shoot the bull. And believe me, they can pile it on, especially with an audience. Notice I said watch, not just listen. Latinos cannot converse without moving, and their expressions, physical and verbal, are very entertaining when they move off center from the traditional, formal interchange. Sergio jokingly tells them to bring back a fish for him. As they roar away in a cloud of dust and Ranchero music, they yell something inappropriate about his mujer and trading a fish for a fish and I don’t even want to know. It is all good-natured. Innuendo aside, I am pleased about the exchange because often the local people here are guarded and do not engage in informal banter, especially outside of a store or restaurant setting. They are not unfriendly, but you have to make the first move. I feel like we’ve made a connection from our routine of walking Chiki, who is known to many of them. The beach is where the fishermen and local families gather in the evenings, especially late in the week, when people escape their concrete homes that turn into little square ovens, radiating the day's heat. The hipster hotel San Cristobal squats off to one side, keeping a physical and cultural distance for both the tourists and the locals. I learned later that the hotel is owned by the Lambert Group from Austin, run by Liz Lambert, an early pioneer in South Congress’ renewal / gentrification. Small world. I read a blog post about the local’s beach, the writer said this was “hands down” his favorite beach. In the afternoons the returning fishermen drive their boats right up onto the beach. It is quite a spectacle. It is also a scene that you have to be in the mood for. I grew up going to the beach in Galveston, with pickup trucks cruising up and down, 90% humidity, scantily clad sweaty people drinking beer, playing loud music, checking each other out. This is the same template, albeit with a Mexican flair; it isn’t that exotic to me. Sergio has a hard time with it because the popular corner of this beach is dirty. Sorry if you have only read the rave reviews on other blogs about TS beaches, but it is the truth. The parking area is strewn with trash, people leave their beer cans and chip bags on the beach in a puzzling lack of regard for the natural setting of their community. Sort of like Galveston beaches back in the 80's. Todos in general is pretty trashy. Stray a few blocks from the Hotel California and you might as well be in any random pueblo anywhere in the world where people litter at will and trash piles up in the corner of vacant lots. The first quarter mile of our morning walk is in the low part of the desert, easily reached by trucks that dump trash. In the days before plastic, stuff decomposed eventually. Now, the amount of plastic in the world increased exponentially in the last 50 years, and its a huge mess all over the planet. Organized waste management and individual respect for the commons has not caught up with the amount of trash we all generate. Back to the beach.
One afternoon, we get a late start, heading out to catch the sunset. We come upon two young men bumping along the dirt road on cruiser bikes. They were obviously not Mexican. There is a hostel up the street from where our house is and I am thinking that is probably where they were staying. As we past, they wave us down. One of them says, in Spanish with a German accent, Is this the way to the beach? Yes. How far? About a mile and a half. I look at his hostel bike, a hot pink beach cruiser with a basket; it is more suited to the boardwalk in Santa Monica than this dirt road in Mexico. His friend has a similarly tricked out ride. Do you want a ride? Sure! We'll follow you back to the hostel to drop off the bikes. No, its OK, we can just lock them up here. I look at Sergio who is trying not to laugh. You don't just lock your bike up in the desert outside of Todos Santos, on the main road to the local’s beach, and expect it to be there when you get back. I say, No, its no trouble. We follow them back to turn in the bikes. They pile into the car. Chiki is elated to have new pack members to keep track of, even though she is now relegated to the very back of the small SUV. The windows don’t open back there, so she pants happy hot stinky dog breath on our new friends, her head between their shoulders as she catches a breeze from the windows. The German boys are super friendly with her and our tri-lingual dog is soon learning a fourth language. We arrive at the beach a few minutes before sunset. We walk a few yards down, past the main hubbub of pickups and families, past the raised platform and lounge chairs where the gringos at the San Cristobal watch the world pass by below them. The German boys run down the beach with Chiki. Sergio wanders off to explore a tide pool. To each his own corner. I sit cross-legged on my towel, lean into the mountains behind me, and watch the sky turn pink. The sound of the ocean blots out my internal chatter; waves crashing in rhythm with the pull of the unseen moon. For the next few minutes, I claim this time, place and space as my corner of the world. |
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