UkuAdventures in Mexico: Churros!

UkuAdventures in Mexico: Crabs 'n' Machetes!

Dear Blob,
The Nature in Mexico is Off The Hook, as the teens would have said a couple years ago. Last night I awoke to Jessica's squeaks of quivery surprise, upon discovering a large crab in the house. Casa Azul is pretty far away from the the beach. The only way it could have gotten inside is by hitching a ride with us. I can't figure out how that happened, as Mr. Crab is not small! He's about as big as my 2 hands put together and we would have noticed a large crab in our small beach bag; the same bag narrowly-missed being peed on by the basset hound. Mr. Crab was not interested in being saved, grapevining, ballerina-like, quickly under a bed. He's still there, as far as we know.

Do boys in Mexico receive machetes the way boys in the US get pocket-knives? The hombres here wield machete's to cut coconuts in the their bare hands. No cutting board; just the coconut, held aloft like a crystal ball, and then the machete thwacked upon it. I can't believe no blood was shed, leading me to believe this is a 10,000 hours practice Malcolm Gladwell writes about in Outliers. The Mexicans are incredible at hacking coconuts open with machetes. They also carve a majestic mango.

How old are babies before they are fed salsa and onions around here?

The Paper 'n' Ribbonery store sells notebooks featuring animals with monocles.

Love The Ukulady
ps: That makes a Frog, Cucaracha (not exotic or unusual), Cicada & Crab in the house. Hopefully Mr. Scorpion will not join his Nature Friendsies
pps: Reader, The Ukulady is raising Funds for her New Album! We have 7 Days left of the campaign! Contribute to the Downfall of Evil and Get The New Album!

UkuAdventures in Mexico: Crocodiles, Butterflies & Paddle-Beak Birds!

Dear Blob,
1. Every outing in Mexico is an unexpected adventure, from crocodile-watching to getting my bag peed on by an Mexican basset hound, to stumbling upon a carnival.

2. The 1980's arcade games, once a usual item in the US, are not in private mansions, like in the Silver Spoons mansion, but they're all in Mexico enjoying a second life.

3. Cornrows on any and all non-black people are the International symbol of Vacation.

4. Mexicans seem to be the ultimate Salespeople/Entrepreneurs. Everyone has something to sell, from tacos to sponges to coconut balls.

Yesterday, leaving Jessica home sick, I visited La Manzanilla, the ultimate stereotype of a Sleepy Mexico Fishing'n'Vacation town. La Manzanilla is not Manzanillo and features a crocodile preserve, which riveted me for almost 2 hours. Crocodiles are the perfect example of Darwinism, crawling out of the water on their stubby webbed-feet-legs; almost land mammals, but reptileish water creatures. Their hefty-thick torsos are fascinatingly leathery and they would totally win at Statues. I also saw a pink paddle-beaked bird, butterflies and schmoozed with Pedro, the fish-taco-truck guy, who used to live in San Diego.

The La Manzanillo beach is almost perfect, except for the distressing piles of garbage everywhere. It was difficult to find a garbage-free place to sit. Apparently, the restauranteurs only clean the beach during the high season. Regardless, it was deeply pleasant, lolling in the water, people-watching wealthy Mexican families and nibbling a honey-drenched coconut ball, purchased from a Beach Vendor.

I felt smugly self-reliant, pampering myself with a Fresa popsicle until my quiet moment was interrupted by a chatty & probably-pervy gringo who asked if I wanted to "Take a Ride."

In other news, there is a tiny carnival in our barrio, Buster is a musical genius, amongst his genius-titles, and we enjoyed straws coated in tamarind and sugar from the grandmotherly Candy Stand lady - super tangy!

Love The Ukulady
ps: Mexico's dichotomies are Much More ShinyBrightBold, as is everything here, than in the US. We have shantytowns and shacks made of garbage, but it's all clustered together; if you avoid LA skid row, seeing shacks of garbage is rare. Here you come upon a poverty-shack right next to a middle-classish home, which is surprising.

pps: The Carpet has moved back inside!

ppps: We mistook a lizard-chameleon creature for a butterfly! Stick-colored, it blends in until it swells it's neck into an exotic, orange fan, which looks like a butterfly wing! Total show-off!

UkuAdventures in Mexico: Fish, Schmooze & Popsicles!

Dear Blob,
It’s been a social couple of days, schmoozing with the Expats, being poured tequila from Tequila and making new friendsies. America Day, as the Canadians call July 4th, found Jessaly in Melaque at 2 birthday parties. Invited & chauffeured by Buster, I ate cake twice, finally swam in the perfect-temperature tropical ocean & shopped at Super Hawaiian, the largest grocery store nearish, which sells my favorite, imported fancy cheese!

It’s confusing to the expats that Thessica works. (The Ukulady's Day Job) Hawaii Carla informed us that Work is a 4-letter word around here. Regardless, I’ve been somewhat productive, cobbling together a routine, which needs to change. My usual work ‘n’ workout in the morning/run errands in the afternoon is not compatible with the climate or the tortilla store, which closes super early, a new discovery.

Today, after working all morning, marketing my Fundraising Campaign for my upcoming new album (Contribute here & get the album for free!), I introduced Jessica to Anusara yoga, practicing via the interweb.

An hour yoga practice in this climate is just about the only thing I can accomplish in the heatyheat day, aside from voraciously reading sociology books about Mexico. Eye on the Prize, I did manage to record harmonies for Flowerweek, as well as mistakenly running errands between 2 – 4, which was unbearably hot, hence the need for change. Work later, errands early…

I’m in love with the Fish Co-op! Interestingly buying groceries here is more expensive than eating out; except for Fish! Fish is ridiculously cheap and outrageously delicious! I purchased a satchel of giant shrimp for $2.50! We will live on Fish, mango limes ‘n’ avocados!

It is thrilling to have the laundress do my laundry for a mere $2.00! I adore Cheap Thrills!

In addition to working, we had our first dinner guest; Drummer Ian popped in for a visit, just in time to enjoy Delicious Fish with us. We met Fernando, the proudly-open neighborhood Meep dealer, who delivers shirtless, via bike. We enjoyed popsicles , running into ItalianSanFrancisco Mike, who invited us to his brother-in-law’s palatial mansion for Smoked Steaks on Sunday!

The day concluded with being reminded I’m on TV Tonight! No need to clarify Mexican or American. Old friends on the East Coast caught iKid with Brad Garrett, and via Facebook said Meeep! Ukulady, you are on TV Tonight!

Love The Ukulady

ps: I wish we could ship OC to the Tea Party HQ.
pps: The temperature returned to Hot today , Calour, as my new amigo, Pedro the tchotchke-salesman corrected me, not Caliente. Which is good for the carpet, bad for perkiness-factor.
pps: I heard Mexicans listening to MJ's Human Nature! Listening to people listening..

UkuAdventures in Mexico: My Sexy Suitor is Not For Sissies!

Dear Blob,
1. Mexico is not for Sissies
2. Like a Disney Princess, Mexico is ridiculously Charming and Magical.

(2) Yesterday Jessaly discovered the Scenic route to town. We wandered the cobblestone streets of the Wealthy neighborhood, a mix of garish & tasteful villas, which meanders along canals, leading into a CharmFever townspeople-neighborhood next to downtown Barra De Navidad; I will call it Townie Town.

Big News: In Townie Town we found Plastic Recycling!

The lack of recycling in Mexico has been stressing me out. Mexicans are enthusiastic aluminum-can recyclers, but everything else is thrown away, either in the basura (garbage!) or a vacant lot. I've been hoarding plastic bottles for no reason other than I'm emotionally unable to throw them away.

The Plastic Recycling is located across from fabulous topiaries, spelling out HOTEL. As Thessica cooed, photographing HOTEL, a plastic-recycling Townie amusingly pointed out a Fabulous Chicken topiary. A Chicken Plant, similar to Chicken Pants!

Townie Town's cobblestones wind around and down, connecting with the Lagoon-side of downtown, which is lined with Robinson Carusoe-like tree-housey buildings with palapa roofs and tropical hotels. Barra De Navidad has all the ruffle-fixin's leftover from Colonialism, like lacy streetlamps and slim, windey cobblestone alleys. I just realized Wind and Wind are spelled the same!

We concluded our walk in true vacation-style, lounging at a beachside snackery, our feet in the sand, cervezas & chips in hand, ocean view charmtastically grand!

Mexico is like a sexy suitor, courting me and winning! I even met Mexico on the internet! I know the suitor is flawed, as everything is, but Meep! She is Charming!

(1) I'm beginning to physically feel like myself. My first week, I was like a puffy, woozy sausage, constantly feeling vaguely withered, dehydrated, swollen. I finally feel normalish! Acclimated! It may be due to the 10 degree weather drop, as it's still raining (the flooded carpet is still damp & the towels on the clothesline are pretty-much made of water). I'm sure that once the rain subsides and the temperature rises, the Woozy Sausage will return, but ever an optimist, perhaps this acclimation is permanent!

I went jogging this morning during a break in the rain, jog-nerd thrilled by the temperature-drop. Of course I was caught in an extreme downpour, far far away, out on the Mexican highway, I joyfully jogged alongside the jungle, thinking of marathon runners & the Biggest Loser TV show. The rain was extreme; if it was in LA, it would be Front Page Headlines. I wished for eyeball windshield-wipers and jogged joyfully, triumphantly, reminiscent of Shawshenk Redemption, minus the sewage.

Jogging in Tropical Rains is not an activity for Sissies. My sexy suitor, Mexico is a Curve Ball Enthusiast.

Love The Ukulady

ps: I'm reading Mexico books and gaining understanding of the culture; most Mexicans are mixed blood and the Aztec civilization was all about the social hierarchy. Most Mexicans have 3000 years of the Aztec class system embedded in their psyche. Racism runs deep and silent here, but unlike the US, the darkest people have been on the bottom for 3000 years. The Aztec warriors were probably all killed in conquistador-battles, leaving the lower class Aztecs, used to being marginalized, left to continue being the lowest class in Mexico.

UkuAdventures in Mexico: Tacos, Gatos & Thessica!

Dear Blob -
The Tropics are like Munchkinland, brighter than elsewhere, as well as ridiculously moist and lush. No wonder the Latins are renown for their passion; the colors are so dramatic, romantic & vibrant. My skin is super moist here, unlike LA, where the desert is like a baby, enthusiastically sucking, but moisture, not nippleish objects.

Evil Sandwich & Master Crafter (maker of the Unicorndog), Jessica, has arrived! Her first time in Mexico! She got hives the first night from the Mexican-detergent-washed sheets. On our banana-grove-filled drive from the airport with Heroic-Burbank Larry, she asked, "If we were a celebrity couple, would we be Jessaly or Thessica?" From here on, Blob, I will use one of our celebrity-couple monikers instead of typing 2 names.

She brought her omnichord, a little-known instrument, best described as an electronic autoharp. It was a hit with the Bar Reymomo patrons; New Orleans Barbara being ready to buy one, writing down it's name and asking Jessica to find one on ebay, send it to her and ensuring reimbursement.

LA/Marin Ian, a professional drummer, became an Evil Sandwich last night, accompanying songs of cupcakes, robots & tornadoes! It was a Magical Show. I've taken to geographically naming the expats. Except for Buster, who remains my BFF. I'm already bummed I won't be able to email him later, as he leads an internet-free life.

Jessaly dined at Mexico Lindo, a local raved-about-eatery, with a charming tropical-plant-laden patio. Prices are the same as Echo Park taco trucks.

We have a horrible stray cat Jessica has named OC. I said, "For the OC?", likening the awfulness of the Orange County, to the cat.
"Orange Cat.". She said.

OC has the most distressingly horrible yowl; similar to a Peacock, but with a gaggy-throw-upish inflection. Conchita is the Gato of Casa Azul and hates me because I won't let her Inside. She is the reason I locked myself out a few blogs ago. Conchita's number one goal is to get Inside. When the Casa Azul Owners were here with their awesome dogs, Conchita couldn't have cared less about Inside. She enjoyed lazing in the Magic Garden. These days she skulks around the front door, scheming entry, occasionally darting in like a Cat on Speed. She responds to my threatening Velvetina Evilwich voice, Cat-on-Speeding it outside.

The rain has brought the temperature down 10 degrees, an inward-celebration of epic proportions. I was actually chilly last night and had to turn 1 of the 2 fans, off and briefly use the very thin blanket! I don't feel as sausagey.

Speaking of sausage, we enjoyed late-night tacos in our neighborhood at Taqueria Ramos, which was packed at midnight with local young parents and babies. The tacos are 5-star Yelp, with tender handmade corn-tortillas. The most interesting and best part is the huge multi-compartment circular tray which accompanies the tacos. Similar to the enormous fresh-herb tray you get in Vietnam with your Pho, authentic tacos in Mexico come with more! At least 6 or 7 accoutrements to dress up the simple corn meat-flap: beans, 4 salsas, pickled produce and more. A short walk from the Casa, we hope to be regulars.

Love The Ukulady
ps: Sadly, the Frog died. Jessica bravely picked it up, as it finally moved to an accessible location. However, it was an Ex-Frog. I mourned briefly, but as Ukulad said, "It's own damn fault for stupidly getting in the house."
pps: How did it get in in the first place? Must have pulled a Conchita.
ppps: Thessica has been invited to a Birthday Party/4th of July Celebration in Melaque, the town across the bay, tomorrow. Stay tuned!

UkuAdventures in Mexico: Rain, Frog &Cockroach!

Dear Blob -
It's been an exclamation-point filled time! Brand new challenges, specific to the tropics continue to say Meep!

Last night I played an extensive Ukulady set at Rey Momo, the bar run my by new BFF, Buster, a ridiculously brilliant punk-rocker/former-AP-genetics-teacher, from LA, who writes hilarious-angry punk songs about cooters & pain.

The threat of tropical rain loomed, but we hauled Buster's PA & mics to the bar; Buster introduced me to the Expat Retirees, who socialize every Friday, known as White Night. A few White Nighters came to The Ukulady show and during songs of candy outfits, cake months & unicorndogs, a Tropical Rain, unlike anything I've ever experienced, started coming down. It is still pouring, as I write, enormous, violent sheets of water in varying stages of weight.

Show over, Buster drove me home in his persnickity stick-shift. Extremely Withered from the humidity, 2 hour show, yoga-class I did & constant-vague dehydration akin to Burning Man, I entered Casa Azul and discovered the entire dining room soaked in rain. The carpet squelched. Then the power went out.

I found the flashlight! I moved all the furniture in the dark! I gathered every towel in the house and mopped up, perhaps 1/6th of the water pooling in the carpet. Dumping the beyond-soaking-wet towels in the kitchen sink, I discovered an adorable frog, about the size of my hand, perched on a spatula. Breaking from the flood crisis, I cooed at it's silken cuteness and snapped it's superfrogmodel picture. Then I briefly fretted about how to get it out of the house before, exhausted, I collapsed into bed.

This morning heroic Burbank-Larry arrived and together we lugged the giant, soggy, dog-hair-covered rug outside onto the covered patio, in the process becoming soggy & dog-hair-covered, but not giant.

There was a break in the rain; inwardly-praising my pioneer-diligence, I rung out the flood-towels in the kitchen sink and hung them outside on the clothesline, which is Not under a covering.

Then it started pouring again.

Then I saw an enormous Cockroach on the kitchen ceiling, discovered the Frog, now covered in dog-hair, hiding behind glass window, in front of the screen, trapped and un-movable, even by stick-prodding.

The Frog and Cockroach are still in their respective areas, unreachable by my T-Rex arms. The rain continues to gush and the stray cats yowl. I think of the Donner Party.

Love The Ukulady
ps: Amidst the soggy-dog-carpet-lugging, Expat, David, brought by a bike for us to use!
pps: Buster called my show a mix of Pee Wee Herman & Cyndi Lauper! Beyond a compliment.