Just a quick update on my tarlov cyst recovery.

When I was able to sit after my Tarlov cyst operation, I always had a small cushion on my lower back. I would do the same in the car, or when watching TV.

Only a week ago, I felt my spinal cord nerve was hurting me. Was I going backwards?

So, to fix myself up, I brought out my well-used tube of Capzasin pain relief crème—real stingy stuff which I used all the time, when I still had my Tarlov cysts. I applied it down my spine. Oh dear, it really burnt!  I had no idea that Capzasin ointment was so strong? I felt pain in my spinal cord nerve.

I freaked and called out to Jim, “Jim, what’s wrong? Why is it so tender around my spinal chord?—help!”

I lay flat on the bed, chest down, while Jim prodded my spine.

“Here? Is this where the pain is?” asked Jim.

“Yes . . . right there!” I said.

“I see some ointment, Maryann . . . what in tarnation are you doing with your back?” said Jim

“I had some discomfort on my spine, so I rubbed some Capzasin pain reliever on it, and now it’s worse! What’s happening?”

“Stop with the Capzasin pain thing, that’s real strong stuff,” said Jim.

“Are you still using the little pillow for your back?” he asked.

“Well, yes.”

“Well, stop, using that pillow; I think it’s putting pressure on the nerves just where they come out of the spinal chord,” said Jim calmly.

I stopped using my trusty little back pillow, and within two days, I began to feel great!

“Jim, I was using my little pillow when I was sitting up to prop up my lower back,” I said, “and now that I’ve stopped using it, I feel fantastic—no nerve pain!”

“Looks like the pillow was pushing against the S1 nerve right where it comes out of the spinal chord, and now that you are getting better-you don’t need that pillow no more!” Jim said

Well, now, no more little pillows to prop up my lower back.  The nerve pain is gone and I am doing fine. How about that?

Nine months post-op, and things begin to change.  Day by day, I can feel the tender area around my incision getting smaller, as I get better and better.

I am walking pain-free, and my medications are Lyrica and Soma.

My back, which needed propping up, now no longer requires it.

For showers, I have my chair to sit on. I use liquid soap and a small towel and am careful, real careful, not to slip.

Who’s a better doctor than my Jim?

My last Tarlov cyst recovery post was made on February 14, 2010. I am now nine months into recovery.

So here’s what’s happening. I can walk PAINFREE, but I can’t run down the street.

I walked as fast as I could when Jim called me out of our bedroom when the 7.2 earthquake hit Mexicali. I reckon for living in an earthquake zone, I am doing pretty well.

I am now writing this, sitting in an office chair, no longer having to limit myself to my reclining armchair. There is no longer any pain in my tailbone area now – no more using the seat cushion!

Jim and I take turns preparing meals. Before it was only Jim.  Matthew looked after our pets.

I used to have a bar stool to sit on while stirring the pot over the stove. No need for that anymore! Now, I can stand and prepare meals, just like I used to.

What I can’t do, are work-outs or exercises. So I don’t really work up a sweat the way I like to.

But we’ll will wait and see. I can even fix up my hair, and put on my make-up.

(At Sinapsis Cafe, the girls were really sweet, and loved my eye-make up!  Most Mexican women wear makeup all the time, and they are all just beautiful. I guess that’s the Latin way.)

I am still watching my recovery from my Tarlov cyst surgery very closely. I can sit anywhere now. I even rolled over in our bed to give Jim a hug about a month ago, but that showed me that I was still in recovery.

I could feel the healing area around the operation site getting smaller, like a shrinking circle! As each month goes by, the circle gets smaller.

After the operation Dr. Carlos Maya gave me a prescription for three antibiotic shots.

Several months later, the area around and under the incision still didn’t feel right.

I told Jim who said, “‘MaryAnn, you probably have a staph infection?”

“How do you know about staph infections?” I asked.

“Must’a read it somewheres,” said Jim. “Look MaryAnn, staph infections are all around, and you still have that inflamed nerve,” Jim said firmly.

He continued, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I have the name of an antibiotic; it’s real strong, so let’s giddyup down to Mas Barata, and get it.”

“OK. Is it pills I should be taking?”

“Nope, shots” said Jim.

We took off to La Farmacia Mas Barata immediately. I sat in the truck, while Jim, who speaks Spanish, went in and talked to a smart looking lady behind the counter. They checked over a medical book, and, in no time, Jim came out with a bagful of stuff and said, “Right, here’s what we need to clear up any darn staph infection, Maryann. They call it Trixona, here in Mexico.”

“Just in case Hon; we wanna make sure that every base is covered,” said Jim as we headed to the Sanatorio Santa Monica, a small hospital in our neighborhood.

There, the nurse will give you a shot for only 30 pesos ($2.50).

In Mexicali, an ampule for a one gram shot of Trixona (ceftriaxone), the antibiotic Jim decided on, costs 120 pesos ($9.60).

For the first seven days, Jim decided on one gram each day. For the second week, it was two grams, each day.

This was a big shot and was given with a large syringe. For the 14 day treatment, I changed sides on my buttocks for each jab.

The cost of the entire treatment came to a total of $201.60 for the antibiotics. Combined with $35 for the hospital shots brought the total to $236.60. And no doctor fees!

In the US, such a treatment for a staph infection would cost a fortune!

From the first shot, I could feel something going on; some of the pain and inflammation from the incision site was going away. It just got better with each shot, and by the end of Jim’s treatment, I felt a huge improvement.

“Hon, as I suspected, you probably had a staph infection,” said Jim.

“Jim, I think you were right – I feel so much better now,” I said. “How did you figure that out, and how did you decide on ceftriaxone?” I asked.

“Twarant nothin, just a little research with Dr. Internet,” answered Jim. “Look,” he continued, “all a doctor can do is either slice you up with an operation or give you a prescription – in Mexico, you can do your own prescriptions – no doctor needed.”

My Jim can be so brilliant!

I put myself back on Lyrica and Soma.

My decision. I don’t need a doctor or his prescription to tell me what to do, at this point in the game.

Lyrica helps with the nerve recovery and the Soma helps to relax the muscles.

Of course I pace myself. When I overdo errands, I do get very tired and find I have to rest up for one full day.

It takes us one and half hours to cross over to the US town of Calexico because of the line going through US Customs and Border Patrol.

In Calexico, we usually check our mail, and then go off to Denny’s for a great breakfast. Jim and Matthew always order the Grand Slam breakfast, and I make it a point to eat more proteins, and less carbs. So I order a double bacon and cheese burger, with french fries a dill pickle, followed by a large chocolate milkshake! A treat for me!

The less weight I carry, the less pressure on my spine. I had really taken my spine for granted during the last 40 years of my life, lifting, running, falling down. At one point, I started to wonder what might have caused my Tarlov cyst. I recalled that some years ago, I had knocked the back of my head really hard. At the time, I thought to myself, “Oops, I hope I’m OK!”‘ Well, I think that may have been part of the cause of my getting two Tarlov cysts.

I do get into a funk, of course!  Many times, when I wake up, I think I can just run up to the bathroom, run out and do errands so quickly, and now, after the Tarlov cyst surgery, I can’t do that.  That gets me very down. I can’t hike, play tennis or tango right now. I hope I can get to the point where I can move fast enough to play some tennis with Jim.

That’s the frustrating issue I face everyday as a Tarlov cyst survivor. However, I am pleased with my 9 month recovery, and Jim says he can see almost daily improvements in the way I walk.

When we last went to Denny’s, Jim and Matthew were very surprised to see me slide out of the truck and walk, with no signs of a limp. “You’re walkin like normal, MaryAnn! I’m impressed!” said Jim. So there is good news for all Tarlovians who are angry and frustrated.

Give the healing time! Be patient (and watch out for post-op infections).

Yes, thank the Lord, I am doing very well – no pain medications needed.  I will continue to keep all my Internet friends posted on my recovery.

Jesse called us on the phone a couple of days ago and said they were concerned about us, and also had BIG NEWS to tell us. Jesse also said he and his family had decided to visit us here in Mexicali for Memorial Day.

Saturday morning, Jesse and family pulled up in front of our casa in their SUV, dragging a trailer with all their belongings.

Maude poured herself out of the front seat holding a big box of wine, and our two grandsons, Wilbur and Orville, now tall big strapping young teens, got out to greet us.

“Well, long time no see!” said Jim.

“Hya Dad, Mom!” said Jesse, “it’s great to see you!”

Maude then gave Jim and me hugs, and handing us the box of wine said, “Here’s a box of wine, guys – its Gambino’s Red Cinnamon Orange Wine – it’s a California wine.”

“Hey, that wine really sounds good,” said Jim, “C’mon in, you guys must be tired.”

Going inside, Wilbur said, “Hi Grandpa, Grandma, and Uncle Matthew. Dad said we’re big enough to join the football team soon! Ain’t that great news!”

“Yeah,” joined in Orville.

“Why, yes it is,” I said.

Everyone just crashed down on our living room sofa as I stepped into the kitchen and got some snacks – Hostess Twinkies, M&Ms, Nachos, Oreo Cookies, Planters Peanuts and Fritos Mini Bean Dip, and salt and vinegar pork rinds.

“Geez,” said Orville digging in, “all our favorite stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said, “and I got pork roast and baked potatoes in the oven.”

“Gonna boil some corn?” asked Wilbur.

“Whadaya think’s in that big pot on the stove,” said Jim.

“What’s with the trailer and stuff on top of your car?” I asked.

“Well, Mom, that’s the big news! We’re movin’ to Truth or Consequences,” said Jessie.

“Truth or Consequences?” asked Jim.

“Yeah, Dad, Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, a small place just 120 miles from the Mexican border,” answered Jesse.

“Well, you could do that close to us in California, somewheres like Calexico,” I said.

“Can’t afford to stay in California! The place is getting way too expensive,” said Jesse, wiping his forehead. The sweat was just running down his shirt.

“Thought we would crash here over Memorial Day, if that’s OK with you guys,” said Jesse.

“Sure! we’ve got plenty of room here!” said Jim

Maude was quiet as usual – she’s real nice like an old-style woman. Matthew was keeping quiet too, except for the cracking sound of the pig rind he was stuffing into his face.

“Looks like you guys are having it real good here in Mexicali,” said Jesse.

“Yes we are, the place is great for us, and we’ve made some real nice friends here – this is our home now,” I said.

Jim picked up the box of wine, “Mind if I try some, Jesse?”

“Dad, we brought it for you guys,” answered Jesse.

Jim got a glass from the kitchen and returned to the big living room sofa. He picked up the box and read the label.
“Hey, this here Gambino’s Red Cinnamon Orange Wine is a pretty classy wine – says ‘varietal’ on the box, and that means it’s a top wine – varietal is some kinda certificate thing,” said Jim pouring a glass.

“Gramps, you sure know a lot about wine and stuff,” said Orville.

“Yeah,” added Wilbur.

Jim took a deep drink and started coughing, “CHRIST that stuff is strong!”

“Glad you like it, Dad,” said Jesse.

“OK,” said Jim gathering himself, “no just how are you guys going to support yourselves in Truth and Consequences, New Mexico.”

“It’s Truth or Consequences, Jim,” I said, “named for that radio guy, I think.”

“OK, whatever,” said Jim, finishing his glass of Gambino’s and pouring another.

“Yes, that radio fellow was John Edwards,” I said.

“No, John Edwards was the guy with the hair – that  politician guy who was sleeping around – it was Ralph Edwards,” said Jim.

“The porn guy,” giggled Orville.

“I don’t feel well,” interrupted Matthew, his mouth still full of pork rind.

“Well you just been stuffin your face with that fried pork fat – no wonder,” I said.

Matthew got up and headed for the bathroom.

“Thazz your Unc…Unca’ Matthew for you,” said Jim, and we all had a good laugh.

“You OK, Jim?” I asked.

“I’m OK,” answered Jim, who was slurring his words.

“Yeah, I can tell,” I said.

Turning to Jesse, I asked, “So what are you guys gonna do in Truth or Consequences to make a living.”

“It’s a small place, Mom, only about 7,000 people, but it has a couple of restaurants where Maude could work, and the high school has a football team for Orville and Wilbur. Maybe I could do some coaching work at the same high school.”

“Well, maybe with some luck,” I said.

“Think so, Dad?” asked Jesse.

Jim was asleep and snoring on the sofa.

Let’s hope he wakes up in time for Memorial Day,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Orville and Wilbur, together.

More than 6000 earthquakes hit Mexicali in April.

This includes 702 earthquakes of three to four degrees on the Richter scale, and 72 of between four and five, and 9 large earthquakes between five and six on the Richter scale.

This is more than a month after the 7.2 earthquake killed at least four people, injured 223, and damaged at least 2,500 local homes.

Four new earthquakes, one of which reached 4.6 degrees on the Richter scale, centered south of Mexicali hit us early this morning..

People living to the south of Mexicali on the road to San Felipe are afraid that their damaged houses could collapse completely. Many of them are sleeping in their cars and tents. More than 25,000 people are now living in shelters.  You won’t read that in the U.S. news.

Jim wanted to drive down to the earthquake area to take a look, but Matthew and I said “No!”  Jim should have better sense with all his talk about the birth of a “Baby Moon,” and our being blasted out into space.

Meanwhile it is the Cinco de Mayo (Spanish for “fifth of May”). Most Americans think this is Mexico’s Independence Day, but it isn’t. It celebrates the underdog Mexican army’s victory over the French at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.

The Cinco de Mayo is no big deal in Mexico, but, somehow, it is in the U.S.

So what did we do for the Cinco de Mayo?

Matthew, Jim, and I sat around the house just waiting for the next earthquake.

This is the true story of two young men in their mid-twenties, who decided to cross into the border town of Calexico, from Mexicali – it happened only a couple of days ago.

We’ll just call the young men Alfonso and Roberto (Bob for short). Like a lot of the young people in Mexicali, both Alfonso and Bob speak English very well.

Alfonso wanted to cross the border to buy a pair of sneakers, and go to IN-N-OUT Burger in El Centro, only about 12 miles across the border from Mexicali.

Bob said, “Sure! That’s a great idea. We’ll take your car as it’s all gassed up and I’ll drive.”

“No problem dude!” said Alfonso.

Knowing Alfonso was big on smoking marijuana or “weed” as they like to call it, Bob said, “Make sure you don’t bring any weed crossing the border. OK?”

“Hey, you think I don’t know? Sure, no weed!” sighed Alfonso.

The two young men got into Alfonso’s car and headed out for the border crossing into Calexico in the mid-afternoon. They waited in line for an hour and a half before coming close to the Border Patrol check point. That day, the line of vehicles crossing into Calexico was long and congested.

The young men waited patiently. Alfonso seemed agitated, and from his jean’s pocket, he removed a marijuana pipe wrapped in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” yelled Bob, “I thought you told me you were not gonna bring weed. man? You are gonna get all of us into trouble!”

“Hey, just relax, it’s just a tiny bit of weed stuffed into my pipe, and it’s wrapped in plastic, Dude. I’m not bringing in tons of marijuana. We’re just gonna sit and wait in line. Chill Dude. It’s just the Border Patrol guys, they can’t find it” said Alfonso with a confident look.

“Here, I’m gonna put the pipe with the weed into my side pocket, deep in!” said Alfonso.

As their car crawled up to the US check point, a Border Patrol agent approached their car – he was walking with his sniffer dog, checking each vehicle.

“Oh shit! There’s the dog, we’re in trouble,” called out Bob, “See I told you not to bring weed in!”

As Bob was scolding his friend, the sniffer dog and his handler approached their car. “Light up a cigarette dude!” cried Alfonso.

“Wha? No way man, I just smoke a cigarette now? That’s too obvious!” said Bob angrily.

The sniffer dog and the Border Patrol agent passed their car and walked right by.

Bob and Alfonso heaved a sigh of relief. The dog had not smelled anything. Alfonso looked at Bob and smiled – a smile which Bob did not return.

All of a sudden, in the rear-view mirror, Bob saw the sniffer dog stop right in its tracks! The dog pulled on the leash, and started to lead the Border Patrol agent back to their car!

The two men sat frozen in their car – Bob at the wheel, and Alfonso in the passenger’s seat.

The dog stood up putting its paws right on the closed window next to Alfonso. The Border Patrol agent motioned to Alfonso to open the door.

Alfonso complied.

Immediately, the dog  jumped into the car, on top of Alfonso and put its snout right on Alfonso’s pocket – exactly where the plastic-enclosed pipe was.

Alfonso sat, not moving or blinking, terrified at what the sniffer dog could possibly do.

“Both of you get out of the car, now!” yelled the Border Patrol agent.

Alfonso and Bob got out quickly.

“Place your hands on top of the car, and spread your legs, now!” yelled the Border Patrol agent. “And don’t move!”

The sniffer dog was all excited and started sniffing the car, the back seat, the front seat excitedly. It looked happy, as the agent gave it a treat.

“You get your keys and pop the hood and the trunk and then get back into position, with you hands on the vehicle” said the agent. Three other burly Border Patrol agents arrived at the car as backup.

The other vehicles hummed silently and the people watched with anticipation.

The sniffer dog returned to Alfonso, and jumped excitedly and barked.

“Remove all the stuff from your jeans!” yelled the Border Patrol Agent to the two terrified young men.

Alfonso sheepishly dug out his pipe which was stuffed with weed and wrapped in plastic, and placed it on top of the car, with his wallet.

Now, the car was surrounded by four Border Patrol agents. The people waiting in their cars must have feared that a shoot-out was about to happen. Fortunately, Mexicali is not like other Mexican border towns.

“Here’s the weed, stuffed inside the pipe, sir!” said the Border Patrol agent to a senior officer.

“A pipe? That’s drug paraphernalia,” said the senior officer, “Put the evidence into the trunk. You two, get back into the car, get back in line, and wait your turn at the agent post.”

Both the young men got back into their car, and waited in line.  When they reached the border check point, the agent wanted to see their papers.  Both men showed their papers, which included visas to enter the U.S.

The agent checked over the documents and said, “OK, proceed to the secondary inspection area!”

At the border crossings there is a dreaded Secondary Inspection Area – where they go over suspected vehicles and people very carefully.

We know one woman who was hand-cuffed in the Secondary Inspection Area, with the handcuffs being attached to a hook on the wall. Her feet barely touched the ground. She was on an innocent shopping trip to Calexico, but her car had Tijuana plates, which may have been the problem.

Bob drove the car into a separate lane leading to the dreaded Secondary Inspection Area where both men got out of the car. They were immediately handcuffed by the US Border Patrol agents. All of their belongings were removed and placed in plastic bags, including their cell phones.

Handcuffed, both men were lead to separate holding cells, where they were locked up.

After waiting for a couple of hours, Bob was released from his cell. He asked whether he could call his family. There was no answer, but he was asked to sit down on a bench and fill out a form.

Bob was now feeling a bit better – until the agent cuffed his ankles to the bench.

“Officer, am I in trouble here – is this a misdemeanor or a felony?” asked Bob.

The agent responded, “You’re free to go; you were not caught with any drugs or drug paraphernalia. We checked you thoroughly. No needles no drugs. You’re free to go!”

Bob was relieved and exhilarated that he wasn’t going into any prison, but he worried about Alfonso.

“Officer, what about my friend? What will happen to him?” asked Bob.

The agent answered, “Who knows how long he’s gonna be locked up? He was found with marijuana and an unlawful pipe on his person.

“We have documented in the papers that, on American soil, the weed and pipe was found in the trunk of the car. Everything has been searched, just let his family know where he is, and he will be released soon. Lucky for you boys that the weed was a tiny amount.  If we had found more, the both of you would have been charged and the penalty for crossing the US border with weed would have been severe. Good Luck man! You’re free to go.” said the Border Patrol agent.

In the early morning, Alfonso was released. He collected all of his belongings and called Bob. “Hey, I’m out Dude. Can you come get me Bob? What did you tell my parents?”

“I told your mom that you had an argument with your girlfriend, I didn’t want to freak her out and get her upset. I’ll come get you now” said a relieved Bob.

Bob was lucky; no charges were filed against him. Alfonso was not so lucky. His visa to enter the U.S. was canceled, and he would have to go to US Consulate in Tijuana to get a new visa, which would probably be denied. No more IN-N-OUT Burger for Alfonso – at least not for a long time.

When Bob told us his story, Matthew said “Bob, I wouldn’t want to cross the border with you!”

“What do ya mean?” asked a baffled-looking Jim.

“Well, some of the smell of marijuana must be on Bob.” said Matthew.

“That’s crazy,” said Jim.

“Not so crazy,” said Bob, “They stopped one of my friends, brushed and brushed the carpet on his car until they came up with quite a bit of weed.”

“What happened?” asked Matthew.

“The guy is in prison, and he doesn’t even know how the weed got into the carpet of his car.”

“Ya just don’t mess with them Border guys. We’ve seen those there dogs MaryAnn, they are really good at smelling out the dope,” said Jim shaking his head.

“Well I’m glad nothing happened to you and your friend – it will be a learning experience for you guys,” I said.

Bob got up to leave, shook hands with Jim and gave me a hug. He turned to shake hands with Matthew.

“No way,” said Matthew backing away, “God knows what you have on your hands.”

Eight long days have passed since the Great Mexicali Earthquake of 2010. Eight long days and perhaps 800 aftershocks ranging from 5+ on the Richter Scale on down.

Every few hours an aftershock – when will it all end?

Friends from as far away as San Diego and Phoenix have felt Mexicali’s aftershocks, and have called to ask how are we doing.

We are doing just fine. However, it has been a whale of a lot of work getting our house back in shape. Luckily there was no structural damage that we are aware of, but what a mess, inside!

Not everyone got off so easy, however. A total of 5,000 families in and around Mexicali lost their homes due to the earthquake.

“We need help in getting hold of tents, because many of these people are going to live in emergency shelters for several weeks while we build new homes for more than 5,000 families in need,” Baja California Governor Jose Guadalupe Osuna Millan said, adding that he had already begun receiving help.

Osuna pointed out that Sunday’s quake was the worst on record in Baja California. The last strong quake was 1940’s magnitude 7. 1.

Tents have taken over the parking lot of the Iglesia Apostolica de la Fe en Cristo Jesus, a church in Mexicali, since Sunday, when the earthquake struck.

“We saw the mountains shaking and dust rose as if somebody was moving them,” said Arturo Macias, pastor of the church who has been trying to calm fears among worshipers since the earthquake. Many of his flock consider the earthquake to be a warning from Jesus.

All 300 patients were evacuated from the Mexicali General Hospital because damage to the building, which was also without electricity and water. Some patients were taken to private clinics but others had to be placed in tents.

The parking garage at Mexicali’s City Hall collapsed but no one was injured. A miracle!

Still, scientists agree that, in contrast to Haiti, where a lesser 7.0 magnitude earthquake caused thousands of deaths, Mexicali was spared the worst, in part by better construction standards.

This is stuff you don’t see on the U.S. news. One of our kind readers sent us a link to a set of photos that show just how bad it is for the poor folks who have lost their homes.

Folks on both sides of the border are still checking out the damage and trying to repair shattered nerves.

Caltech and the U.S. Geological Survey, called the aftershocks “robust.” Well, who didn’t know that?

And guess what? Those Caltech guys say they have no idea of how to predict an earthquake!

A 4.5 earthquake hit early Saturday morning around where the 7.2 hit and woke up people in San Diego, Palm Springs and southern Orange County.

On Sunday, four quakes measuring above magnitude 4.0 struck in a three-hour period, doing little physical damage but adding to the emotional toll of the never-ending quakes.

Living in Mexicali is like living on a boat.

Across the border, in Calexico, public schools are closed until they get some plan for the 800 students from Jefferson Elementary School, which is considered too badly damaged for use. Two Catholic schools in Calexico will be closed for two days.

The grand old De Anza hotel, once a playground for the Hollywood stars, was so damaged that it may have to be torn down. The hotel now serves as a residence for old folks, all of whom have been moved out.

Caltech says the Mexicali earthquake adds to the unusual number of strong shakes reported around the world this year, particularly in Haiti and Chile.

“Shucks,” said Jim, “all these aftershocks really begin to get to you.”

“What’s an aftershock?” asked Matthew.

“It’s another earthquake,” I answered.

“Another earthquake? When will it ever end?” asked Matthew.

“No way of knowing – even them Caltech genius guys ain’t gotta clue.”

“Jim, what do you think is going to happen?” asked Matthew.

“One of three things, as I see it.”

“C’mon Jim, you’re just gonna frighten us,” I said.

Jim continued, “Either they stop…”

“Yes,” nodded Matthew.

“Or the earth splits a bit, and the Sea of Cortez comes right on up to Mexicali.”

“Water?” said Matthew.

“Yeah, we could wind up livin on the beach – or on the bottom of the sea,” said Jim calmly.

“Oh my God,” yelled Matthew, “That’s the worst thing anyone could imagine.”

“Well, not quite,” said Jim, with a slight smile.

Now, I was getting interested, so I asked, “Yeah, just what would be worse.”

Jim sat down in his easy chair, and smiled. “Fission – I read about it in this here Christian book, Astronomy and the Bible – it explains that all science is already in the Bible – gives examples, too.”

“Fission?” said Matthew.

“Yeah, fission theory says that the moon split off from the earth like mud thrown off of a truck’s tire and left a huge hole in the earth.”

“A huge hole? What huge hole?” I asked.

“The Pacific Ocean,” answered Jim calmly.

That’s what I so much admire about Jim – he just seems to know everything.

“Yeah,” answered Jim, “and just maybe that’s what happening with all these darn earthquakes – maybe we are gonna split open and throw off a new baby moon.”

“Oh, that’s nuts,” I said, scared out of my mind.

“And what would happen to us?” asked Matthew.

Jim thought a bit, and then answered, “Guess we would be livin somewheres out there in outer space on a new moon.”

It was Easter Sunday April 5, 2010. Jim and Matthew had just left to go to Home Depot at 3.30pm.

I was alone in our bedroom reading a book when the light in the bathroom went out. After several seconds, all of a sudden, the ground began to shake. I checked our little bedside clock – it was 3.40pm.

There was a low rumble, and then floor started to shake. Quickly, I bounced out of bed as the shaking of the floor increased and stood in the doorway to the bathroom – just like Jim had told me to do. I stood, with both my arms holding onto the walls. The entire house was now shaking, vibrating, and trembling at such an angry rate that things began to fall off the shelves.

It was just like someone had grabbed whole of our bedroom and shook it up and down, sideways, and tilting it all over the place!

I was terrified! I thought of my husband, Jim, and Matthew, and our kids. I looked at the ceiling and I thought will it collapse?

I started to say the Lord’s Prayer,

Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever.
Amen.

I heard the lady next door howl out as I heard the sound of heavy items falling down in our house. Like me, she must have thought the house was going to collapse.

After a good ten minutes give and take, the shaking started to subside. And then the aftershocks started.

I heard the front door open. It was Jim, shouting out my name. Jim stood under the doorway to our bedroom, and calmly said, “Maryann, come over here now.” I put on my slippers and walked quickly towards him. We held hands and walked out of our house by the front gate and jumped into our truck which was parked outside. The garage door was not working because there was no electricity.

“Oh, thank God, you came back so quickly!” I cried.

“Yes Hon’, said Jim, “The earthquake struck just we were driving and turning the corner. The truck began to swerve around. I thought it was a flat tire, so I pulled over, and turned off the engine. Well, no sooner had I done that than the truck starts bouncin up and down. I joked to Matthew, that our truck was acting like a darn Toyota.”

Jim turned, and looked back to Matthew, “Didn’t I say that Matthew?”

Matthew didn’t respond – he looked like he was frozen, and was as pale as a ghost.

Jim continued, “So, I got out to look! No flat tire, but the road was really shakin, and the truck was still bouncin – right Matthew?”

No sound came from Matthew.

“Shucks,” said Jim, I knew it was an earthquake so we came right back home – swervin and bouncin all the way – “Right, Matthew?”

Matthew now was covering his eyes with both hands.

At this point, Matthew and I were too stunned to talk.

The earthquake had stopped, and Jim just drove around the streets to see what had happened.

When we hit Justo Sierra, the fancy shopping street. The people were all standing outside – even at La Farmacia la Mas Barata, all the pharmacists were standing outside.
We continued to drive. All the traffic lights were out – there were no lights, anywhere. The lights in the stores and restaurants were off, and people were standing calmly in the street.

Just as we passed a large building, we saw a huge piece of wood and plaster fall off from the front of the building to the sidewalk. Luckily, no one was there.

Many of the large display windows were broken in the banks, the fancy shops, and furniture stores. Broken glass was all over the place.

Here it was – Easter Sunday, and there was an eerie silence all over town! I noticed that the normally daring Mexicali drivers had become very subdued and polite, and stopped at the traffic lights, even though the lights weren’t working. Vehicles passed each other with uncommon and silent courtesy.

I said to Jim and Matthew, “Let’s get some ice cream! I really could use a sugar fix right now!” Jim pulled over at an OXXO store; hopped out and went to door of the store. No ice cream – the employees had locked themselves in, and we could see fear in their eyes! After all, it was Easter Sunday, a holy day in Mexico’s Roman Catholics. I asked Jim, “What do you think people are thinking since this is a Holy Day!”

“God’s will…” said Jim. I turned to look at Matthew. He was silent, his eyes were closed, and he was praying – first time I had seen him pray.

We passed the Pemex gas station and it was closed. Jim turned around, and we headed back. When we stopped at our house, we saw that the neighbor across the street was selling capirotada – a special bread pudding for Lent. Capirotada is made of toasted bread soaked in syrup, sugar, cheese, raisins, and walnuts – it is spiced with cinnamon, and nutmeg, but no custard.

These are native ingredients, and are the recipe dates from the 1600s.

Capirotada is viewed by many Mexicans as a symbol of the suffering of Christ on Good Friday.

“Here’s just what we all need!” I said, getting out of the truck.

The lady, Lulu, selling the capirotada in front of her house, spoke perfect English, as did her brother, Mario. He had just been on his cell phone to San Diego. After hellos, Mario said, “This is the biggest earthquake Mexicali I have ever felt. Our friends up in San Diego even felt it!”

We bought three capirotadas from Lulu at only $3.00 each (each one must be a thousand calories). Handing us the capirotadas, Lulu said, “Listen, if you all need anything, water or anything, just come over.”

“The problem is the electricity. We are now waiting to see how fast the government is going to get it fixed,” said Mario.

“Let’s hope soon,” said Jim, and added, “Nice folks,” as we crossed the street back to our house.

Like most of the people in Mexicali, none of our neighbors seemed worried or upset.

Matthew was still in the back seat of the truck – staring out the window.

“Hey, Matthew,” I said, “I’ve got something pretty good for you.”

“Yes,” said Matthew, turning slowly in my direction.

“It’s a delicious sweet – special for Lent – called capirotada; you will love it,” I said.

Matthew snapped out of his funk and smiled from ear to ear, got out of the truck, and asked, “Which one’s for me?”

Back home, we were happy to find no real damage, just items that fell off the shelves – and our rack with all the computer stuff on it fallen against our work table.

“I’ll just set it all up, again,” said Jim. He’s really great that way! Hardly ever loses his cool.

The three of us sat down and ate our capirodadas, enjoying every bite of it. The sugar fix made us all think clearly. Matthew started giggling over the slightest things.

I searched for my box of emergency candles, and began lighting them. Darkness was coming.

By candlelight, we cooked up some pasta with some left-over meat sauce. Dinner was good. Must have been the candlelight! From outside, we heard great Mexican music coming from Mario’s car stereo.

There were still aftershocks, and there still are!

Exhausted, we finally went to sleep; I woke up after a strong aftershock swayed our bedroom. “Jim, wake up! Did you feel the aftershock?”

“Huh…yes, I’m here, zzzzzzzzz.” Jim went back to sleep.

The next day, Monday, April 6, 2010, the electricity came back on in the morning.

When the TV came on we learned that the  Mexicali earthquake was 7.2 on the Richter scale and that the epicenter was just 36 miles from our house at Guadalupe Victoria in Mexicali Valley. We found out later that Mexicali had suffered some serious damage on its roads and it was reported that six houses burned and a three story parking lot under construction collapsed and power was suspended city-wide until this morning.

The Governor, Jose Guadalupe Osuna Millan, has declared a State of Emergency for all of Baja California.

Jim even managed to get the trash out for the Monday pickup.

We are fine, just tired and a little shaken up. Our dog, Rex, and our two cats, Moss and Twiggy are all OK as well.

After all the excitement, we just relaxed watched TV, and the Tiger Woods interview.

Just another day in Mexicali.

We have been crossing the Mexicali- Calexico border regularly, since we re-located to Mexicali in 2008.  The normal waiting time to cross from Mexicali to Calexico is 1 ½ hours, or more.

The waiting time for coming back to Mexicali from Calexico has always just taken a matter of minutes – now it can take hours.

Now that has all changed.

At first all we noticed was that Mexico has spent a lot of money to upgrade its border entry, giving it a brand new high tech look, with wide lanes, and big impressive signs for vehicles entering into Mexicali.

“Guess the Mexicans are taking revenge on the U.S. for all the delays our guys cause,” said Jim.

Later we learned that this had nothing to do with revenge, but is part of a new federal program started by the Mexican Government known as SIAVE, to search for illegal weapons from crossing into Mexico from the U.S.  You can’t bring guns or ammo into Mexico – before there were just warning signs – now there is an inspection.

The new surveillance program takes eight seconds to inspect each car, making, for the first time, long lines to cross into Mexico. The wait has been as long as three hours on the U.S. side of the border.

This has backed up traffic on Calexico’s main street, Imperial Ave., and caused a lot of problems for the businesses on the road.

The vendors and shops on Imperial Avenue are beginning to find business tough. All of their entrances have been taped off by the Calexico police, to keep people from breaking into the waiting line. Anyone using these shops has to head back to the end of the line if they want to go to Mexico.

This also affects people who work in Calexico, and other nearby towns, who live in Mexicali and have to go back home. In spite of the fact that they have the best of both worlds – U.S. salaries and Mexicali living expenses – it is a problem.

Once while waiting in line way back at the end, near Calexico’s Wal-mart, a couple of wise guys in SUVs cut around us and zipped down the dirt median by the side of the road. They were churning up a lot of dust as they sped by the rest of us law-abiding folks to get ahead of us in line.

Well, guess what?  Boom! They were all stopped by the California Highway patrol and given tickets. The rest of us in line rolled down our windows, clapped and whistled as the “smart guys” got tickets.

“Geez,” said Jim, “don’t that just make you feel good all over?”

Matthew, who is a bit of a day dreamer, added, “Gosh, I thought it was a dust storm?”

I answered, “Well, it was – look at the hood of our truck it’s full of dust!”

Since we always have a ton of errands to complete in Calexico, and El Centro, we now return home to Mexicali late in the evening – about 8 or 9pm.  Like everyone else, we patiently wait in line. No rush, we just listen to the radio, eat burgers and fries in the truck and relax!

Like Jim says, “Ain’t no one paying us to rush back home.”

Jim turns up his favorite cowboy music on the radio, and we all relax.

Well, not exactly – Matthew fashions himself to be a singer, and sometimes, he sings along.

Until Jim says, “C’mon, Matthew, gimme a break.”

A Mexican businessman by the name of Carlos Slim is now the richest person in the world, according to Forbes magazine.  Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, of the U.S., have to settle for second and third place.

Carlos Slim is worth a staggering $53.5 billion.

With the name of Carlos Slim, you might think he was a south-of-the-border cowboy who rolls his own cigarettes – nothing could be further from the truth.

His full name is Carlos Slim Helu.  Mexicans respectfully add their mother’s name onto their own, hence the “Helu.”

Slim was born on January 28th 1940, in Mexico City, one of six children – Carlos was number five and the youngest boy.

Carlos Slim’s father, Julian (who changed his last name from Salim to Slim), was a Lebanese immigrant living in Mexico City and running a small store.  His mother, Linda Helu, came from a distinguished family, also of Lebanese origin, owners of a magazine.

Slim started young.  On the school playground, he profited by trading baseball cards.  At 11 he had already bought his first government savings bonds.  At 15 he had invested in Banco Nacional de México shares.

In Mexico’s financial crisis of 1982, Slim bought out dozens of companies at rock-bottom prices.  Slim became a major player and he was only getting bigger.

In 1990 Slim snapped up Telmex, the former state telephone firm – and he never looked back.  Slim now owns controlling interests in at least hundreds of companies.  By some estimates his firm accounts for a third of Mexico’s leading stock market index and some 7% of its annual economic output.  In addition, Slim has interests outside of Mexico, including a major position in the New York Times – which he may just take over. Slim also owns an 18 percent stake in U.S. retailer, Saks.

In spite of his vast fortune, Slim lives in the same house he purchased with his wife, Soumaya, 40 years ago. He has no yacht, and no homes outside of Mexico (hotels are cheaper, he says).  According to a friend, on a vacation to Italy, Slim haggled for two hours to get ten dollars off the price of a necktie.

Carlos Slim’s only expensive passion is art. Today, his art collection includes 66,000 pieces, from 15th century European masters to the second-largest private collection of sculptures by Auguste Rodin outside of France.

When his wife died 1999, he built a  183,000 square-foot art museum in Mexico City and named it after her – the Soumaya Museum. The museum is part of a 12-acre urban development that will include two 22-story office towers and the corporate headquarters for Slim’s business conglomerate, Grupo Carso. There will also be a shopping mall, two upscale apartment towers, and an underground theater.

The entire complex has won praise in international design competitions. It was designed by well-regarded Mexican architect Fernando Romero, 38, who is married to Slim’s daughter, also named Soumaya,

Like most Mexicans, Slim is a family man and has six children.  Three of his sons now help with the family business. One son, Patrick Slim, is chairman of America Movil, Latin America’s largest mobile-phone company with nearly 200 million clients; another, Carlos Slim Domit, runs Grupo Carso; and a third, Marco Antonio Slim, heads the banking company Inbursa. Two of Slim’s daughters are married to telecom executives within their father’s corporate empire.

With all this activity, Slim has found time to donate $10 billion since 2006 through his two foundations.

Carlos Slim Helu has become the pride of Mexico.

This article was written by P. J. Padilla of Oscar Padilla Mexican Insurance, the company right across the border from us, in Calexico which was founded by his father.

We use Padilla for our Mexican auto insurance.

Padilla insured us for a whole year, including replacement of our vehicle (damage, fire, & theft), $150,000 liability, $20,000 legal service and bail bond – all for $261.75.

That also includes $700 for emergency repair, towing, and shipment of auto parts – not a bad deal.

Here’s the article, which is very informative and useful.

Jim says to tell you we’re not getting paid for posting this, but we do get paid (a little) if you click on the Padilla link and buy.

Mexican Auto Insurance-Know Before You Go

By P.J.  Padilla Owner-Oscar Padilla Ins., Inc

Although it accounts for how I support my family and, dating back to 1951, how my father supported us, I’m also the first to admit that a blog about insurance might be as riveting as paint drying!  That said, though, the importance of insurance can’t be overlooked, particularly when in a foreign country, which is where this begins………

Why is Mexican insurance necessary?

Mexico has traffic laws very similar to the United States.  The application of their laws is what accounts for the differences, and the reasons for needing Mexican insurance.  The law in Mexico is based on the Napoleonic Code where guilt prevails over the assumption of innocence.

In the U.S., the law is based on the English Common Law where innocence prevails over the assumption of guilt.

Mexico does not have compulsory automobile insurance.  The basic difference between Mexico’s and United States financial responsibility law is that anyone involved in an accident in Mexico must have the means to respond to damages or injuries for which they may be responsible….which in Mexico would be in the form of either cash or a Mexican insurance policy.

Can my U.S. insurance help me?

Before leaving home, you should inquire if your U.S. insurance policy will cover damage suffered by your vehicle in Mexico.  If so, ask if the policy has restrictions or limitations in this regard, such as miles from the border, or number of days in Mexico.  Once you’ve familiarized yourself with your own auto policy and the extent of it’s coverage in Mexico, you can then proceed to make a more qualified decision towards your Mexican insurance needs.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Whether or not U.S. insurance policy extends coverage into Mexico, you should always, at least, buy LIABILITY insurance.  The Liability coverage on your U.S., or any other non-Mexican insurance policy, is not recognized by authorities in Mexico.  Only a Mexican automobile liability policy is acceptable evidence of financial responsibility.

What does Mexican insurance cost?

It varies slightly throughout the industry.

First rule of thumb, which represents a significant savings, is getting a 6 Month or One Year policy if you spend more than three weeks a year in Mexico.  Second rule of thumb is don’t jump at the lowest priced one….a lesson we learned all too well ten years ago when we agreed to market a Mexican insurance company’s Auto program that offered very competitive rates.  A year later the CEO of the Mexican insurance company was missing, along with premiums we had been remitting to the company.

There are fine companies in Mexico with many years of credibility.  We, as an example, continue to be proudly associated with two companies for several years, Seguros Atlas and Qualitas Seguros, who represent a combined 86 years in business.

Will I go to jail if I have an accident?

If serious injury has not occurred, a Mexican insurance policy might help reduce red tape and allow the motorist to be on his way sooner rather than later, but the policy should not be construed as your “ticket out of jail”.

Some visitors to Mexico are unable to understand why motorists are temporarily incarcerated in Mexico following an automobile accident where injuries or deaths occurred.  In the first place, serious injuries or deaths have been committed against innocent persons due to someone’s negligence.  It is up to Mexican authorities to determine who is the negligent person.  While that investigation is in motion, all drivers involved in the accident must be detained.

Any person involved in the commission of a crime (and, as previously stated, an automobile accident in Mexico is considered, in principle, to be a penal offense) must be detained in a secure place to prevent their escape.  The only secure place is the police station and, therefore, the motorist finds himself detained awaiting the investigation of his involvement.  A visitor, if allowed to remain free, may likely flee for the border.

This `n that…….

The policy only covers foreign-plated vehicles.  It does not cover a vehicle with a Mexico license plate.

The policy is null and void if driver responsible for the accident was under the influence of alcohol or drugs.

Policy is null and void if driver does not have a valid driver’s license.

A towed vehicle must be described on the policy, otherwise it voids all coverage in case of an accident.

Should a claim be presented, the insured must declare the existence of any other insurance with another company covering the same risk.

All claims must be reported in Mexico before insured returns to U.S.

Failing to do so subjects the claim to a denial by the Mexican insurance company.

We now carry Home Owners Insurance.

We exist by serving.