Call and Response

“The treasure of life is missed by those who hold on and gained by those who let go,” Lao Tzu

Jackie, Louie, and I stand in front of our hotel, the La Victoria on Calle Guadalupe Victoria in the center of Ajijic, Mexico. We arrived late afternoon in a state of utter exhaustion. Yet we take a moment to stare at what’s in front of us: a giant mural painted on the side of the hotel wall with the words “La Victoria” emblazoned across the bottom.  The irony of the visual message does not escape us. Just as the mythical figure of La Victoria embodies resilience, pride, and triumph for the Mexican people, it also echoes, in our own small way, the spirit of our own hard-won arrival.

We are here in Ajijic to complete our Canje (the process of finalizing residency) at the Chapala immigration office, and to get our Temporary Residency cards, making it official that we will become Mexican residents.

Jackie and I showing off our official Mexican temporary residency cards, with Gaby Pellicer who helped facilitate the immigration process.

La Victoria will be our temporary home for the next two weeks or until we finish the immigration process, which is complicated, time consuming, and requires the assistance of professional facilitator who specializes in helping future ex-pats become Mexican residents.

In the past we had always traveled to Mexico on a tourist visa which required us to return home after six months. But this time, it’s different.  We’re moving here permanently. There is no returning home. There is no home to return to.

Permanently? Have we really burned all our bridges?

Some would say that it’s insane at our age to cut all ties, burn all bridges, give up all that was familiar and valuable to us, all to begin a new life in Mexico. What compels a couple in their seventies to sell their house, part with everything they own, risk their health, and then navigate the complicated Mexican immigration process?

In one way or another, we’ve always had this dream of moving to Mexico. Dreams are powerful things, but difficult and frightening to realize. Paulo Coelho, in The Alchemist, writes, “There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”

We knew what it was like to visit Mexico. On the other hand, despite all the people we talked to, of everything we read, of all our preparations and planning, we couldn’t predict what it would be like to actually live there day after day. Trying to control the unknown and unpredictable is futile. We just had to move to Mexico, make a “leap of faith” and just embrace uncertainty without knowing the outcome. Maybe that’s the insane part.

Reactions to our dream of moving to Mexico were interesting.

Some people called us fearless, astonished that we’d make such a bold decision at our age. Others marveled at the sheer audacity of uprooting our lives after a lifetime of stability and security. Some found it so inspiring, they started to wonder that maybe Mexico was where they were meant to be.

One family member questioned incredulously, “Why on earth would you want to do something like that? Don’t you like it here anymore?” 

We heard the warnings: “But there is so much crime down there. What about the Cartel? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be murdered? Or kidnapped?”

Casting doubt on our judgment, one friend asked, “Why would you ignore your own governnment’s travel advisories? Don’t you believe them?”

We had our reasons for moving to Mexico.

We wanted to live where we knew housing costs are significantly lower, where healthcare costs are surprisingly lower compared to the rising costs in the U.S, and where we could enjoy a mild, spring-like climate year-round. We longed to live in a place where an abundance of low-cost, fresh fruits and vegetables are available year-round.

But there were other less practical, yet no less important, reasons for moving to Mexico.

We believe that at this stage of our lives, shedding material belongings and familiar surroundings will help us redefine ourselves in a new culture, providing us with a sense of freedom to experience a new culture and a new way of life.

Living in Mexico will provide us with the opportunity to find out who we are without being surrounded by the anchors of our past. We’ll be able to focus on what truly matters to us—making connections with the Mexican people, experiencing the culture by living in it.

We didn’t want to settle for the ordinary and the familiar anymore. We wanted a new cultural environment that challenges us and keeps us growing despite our age.   

It’s well-known that the pace of life in Mexico is slow, steady, and unhurried, in contrast with the hurried rhythm of American culture.  We want to live in a country where the daily routines are carried out without rush, where food, music, art, history, social gatherings, and celebrations of long-standing traditions shape the natural rhythm of life.

Louie behaving himself at Mario’s Restaurant and Hotel. Almost all Ajijic restaurants with courtyards are pet friendly.

At our age, fulfilling our dream of finally being able to live full-time in Mexico is exhilarating. Despite the unpredictable challenges and mishaps (I’ll get to those later), we’re happy to be here. What does the future hold for us? Wrong question. We’ve given up that old life of constantly striving to secure the future, and we’ve replaced with the richness of Mexican life.  Can’t say much more than that.