And the Journey Continues!

It’s been almost 20 years since I moved to Mexico, driving alone from California with only a few months preparation and planning. I didn’t know anyone else who’d done this, and I didn’t know anyone in Mazatlán, Sinaloa, where I was headed.Friends said I was either courageous or crazy, but I knew this was an adventure I had to go on, one that has changed my life immeasurably for the better.

Six months earlier I had been in Mazatlán on a two-week vacation and fallen in love with the city, especially the Centro Historico. The picturesque turn-of-the-century buildings, charming cobblestone streets and enchanting tree-lined plazas spoke to my heart. Add the miles and miles of beautiful beaches, warm, sunny weather, and friendly, welcoming local people, and, well, I knew I could be happy living there.

Besides all of that, Mazatlán’s cultural landscape is unparalleled and known throughout Mexico for its sophistication, professionalism, and the world-class artists the city’s cultural organization brings to perform in a myriad of events, many of which are free and held outside. Streets are closed off, giant stages and sound systems set up, and whole families, from babies in strollers to grandmothers and everyone in-between, come out to have a good time.

Its Carnaval has been held for more than 100 years and is the third biggest in the world, with a week of parades, concerts and festivities; the oceanfront malecon plays host to a myriad of marathons, triathlons, and bicycle races, attended by international competitors, and holidays like Day of the Dead and Christmas are all celebrated in iconic style. The restored Angela Peralta Theater is home to a symphony, music and dance schools, and a world-renowned opera company, and hosts performances year-round that are affordable, fun and beloved by both the local and expat communities.

During that trip, I felt like a different person, and it wasn’t just because I was on vacation! I was deeply happy, calm and at peace—a distinctive, undeniable “new me” that I wanted to continue to explore. I know that sounds corny, but it’s true. 

It had never crossed my mind to move out of the U.S., and in fact, this trip to Mazatlán was only the third time I had ever traveled out of the country. My life in Santa Cruz, California, had all the requisite “pieces”—a job I liked, a loving community of friends, a beautiful location—but still, something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it but once I was in Mazatlán, somehow, unexpectedly, it felt like home.

I think sometimes you just have to make that leap into the unknown and trust your gut! And ultimately, it was the feeling in my heart that gave me the courage to “just do it.” My biggest concern was what my three grown children would say, and they were all 100% supportive of me following what had suddenly become my dream. In hindsight, one regret I have is that I wish I’d kept more things I was sentimentally attached to; Those reminders of my family, my children and our history have become more precious as we ceased to make as many new ones, except for the few weeks a year when I visit them.

That was 2006, and at that time, even thinking about becoming an expat was nowhere near as common as it is now. Nowadays it’s an entirely different climate, and you can find heaps of information in every imaginable form about “going expat.” The why and where and how and who have all expanded tremendously. When I look back, mine seems like a vastly more simple and straightforward decision than what folks have to consider now. Also, at that time, the Mexican government made it really easy for foreigners to live in the country, with less restrictive financial requirements and a much simpler application process.

My journalism background meant I needed to research and find enough information that I felt comfortable with such a big decision. Everybody does it differently, but I investigated and planned for a few months before I went back for a trial run to see if I really could live in Mazatlán. I obsessively read expat Facebook pages, blogs and websites about moving to Mexico, made lists of concerns, questions, challenges, and fears, but also of all the positive aspects of moving. Then I took a month-long leave of absence from work and went back to Mazatlán to explore and do my due diligence. On that trip, I talked to anyone who would speak to me, practicing the Spanish I had started taking classes in.

I discovered that pretty much everything you hear about living in Mexico is true. The cost of living was tremendously lower than where I had been living in California, and rent, utilities, and food were, at that time, less than half what I’d been used to paying. (With the passage of time and the stronger peso, that has changed, but costs are still much more affordable in Mexico than in the U.S.A.) For example, in Mazatlán I never paid more than about $500 dollars a month for a spacious two-bedroom apartment a block from the beach. My electric bill was never more than $40 a month, and Wi-Fi and cell phone service hovered around $17 a month.

Depending on your lifestyle, pretty much everything—going out to eat, attending concerts or other performances, basic food costs—is going to be less than you’re used to paying. That said, of course you can spend more! I might only pay $500 dollars for my apartment but a few blocks away are brand-new condos with all the bells and whistles that rent for triple or quadruple that price. It all depends on what you want and what you can afford.

Healthcare is another big concern for many people; doctors and medical care should be at the top of your list of things to investigate as you consider moving to Mexico. In most big cities in Mexico, you’ll find top-notch medical and dental care, with modern hospitals and experienced specialists. While it’s true that simple office visits can sometimes be shockingly inexpensive, specialists and surgical procedures can be another story. I’d say costs are reasonable: less than in the U.S. but not ridiculously so.

Safety is something I think people worry too much about. The media loves to paint a scary picture of Mexico, but I feel safer here than when I visit the U.S. Of course there’s crime—it’s a big country, with millions of people—but the vast majority of those people are living their lives happily and safely.

Recently I moved away from Mazatlán to San Antonio Tlayacapan, a small town on Lake Chapala. It’s not much more than a village, really, but it’s only about a 15-minute drive or bus ride to the fun, bustling towns of Ajijic in one direction and Chapala in the other. And Guadalajara, the second largest city in Mexico, with its cosmopolitan shopping, fantastic international airport and kick-ass cultural scene, is only 30-40 minutes away, depending on traffic.

My new home is an adorable two-bedroom house with a front yard, gated parking, a back patio, and rooftop terrace. My rent is—are you ready? —$9,000 pesos, about $490 dollars. And that includes water.

My friends were shocked that I was moving, especially inland, hours from the ocean. But my needs, goals and desires have changed, and Mazatlán no longer filled them like it once did. It’s become a resort town, with too much traffic and too many tourists for my taste. The coastline I once loved is now lined with 20-story condominiums and hotels, and even the most remote beaches are crowded with visitors and vendors. It’s not the kind of place I want to live.

One of the good things about being retired is that you can move. You can change your mind, change your home, change your life, with much fewer problems than when you have a steady job, a family to raise, a mortgage to pay. I don’t have to stay in Mazatlán – there’s an entire country to explore!

It may seem obvious, but living in another culture changes your perspective. I think I’ve evolved into a better person and it’s hard to imagine ever living in the U.S. again. (Although grandkids are a big pull!) There’s definitely been lots of stumbling—the language, the customs, starting a business—but even more, it’s been smooth sailing. I smile more, relax easily, am more patient and open to that very Mexican concept of “manana.” I don’t stress about the small stuff and watch curiously those who do. When I visit family now, I increasingly feel like a “stranger in a strange land,” a fish out of water, a visitor. 

Living in Mexico has also made me humble. I don’t see how else you can survive here, without a healthy dose of humility each day, in almost every exchange. You learn to expect that you’re going to make mistakes, and the only way to learn and move forward is to do exactly that: Learn and move forward. After all, I’m the foreigner here; the clueless one struggling to use the correct pronoun in a simple sentence.

During the years I’ve lived in Mexico, I’ve met many other expats, from the U.S., from Canada, from Europe and elsewhere. Everyone’s story is different: why they came, how they got here, what it took, why they stayed, how their lives have changed. If there’s a common denominator, it’s that everyone says how happy they are now. And that’s something we’re all looking for.