Phoenix Hocking: Housesitting Adventures in Alamos

My husband had passed away and I had retired, so I was ready for some travel and adventure. I placed a Situations-Wanted ad in The Caretaker Gazette, looking for a caretaking, housesitting or travel companion position and another Gazette subscriber, a retiree named Doris, answered it. She was going to her home in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico for the winter and wanted me to come with her. We met and seemed to get along fine, so a new chapter in my life was about to begin! Alamos, Sonora, Mexico is located about 400 miles south of the border. Originally a silver mining town, today it is a bustling little village that boasts some of the best bird watching opportunities anywhere, as well as an annual music festival that attracts talent worldwide.
From the time I began housesitting in Alamos, I started writing about interesting daily occurrences in my journal. Here are some of my journal highlights:

A few nights ago we bought some marlin from a street vendor who came to the gate. I had my reservations, (the word ptomaine comes to mind), but it was actually quite good and I am none the worse for wear. A little girl comes by in the afternoons selling lovely homemade breads that are quite delicious. The vendors on the alameda sell a little of everything.

Food here is different. The chicken pieces are in a big tub by the butcher's counter. Today I got two leg quarters and have them in the crock-pot for tonight. So far, Montezuma seems to not be taking his revenge out on me, fingers crossed and knocking wood. Of course, we only use bottled water, and I'm being pretty careful. It’s chilly first thing in the morning; I throw on my robe and head for the kitchen to put the coffee on. Roosters are crowing in the neighbor’s yard and traffic has already begun outside my window. Work gets started early here.

I check my email, drink my coffee, and take a shower. I walk across the dusty arroyo to where a vendor has set up shop, cooking traditional Mexican soups in huge caldrons. There are two kinds of soup - barbacoa and cabeza (both made from the parts of the head of a cow). The barbacoa is spicy, but not overly so, with a rich, full flavor and huge chunks of meat and potatoes. On the way back to the house I pass a woman sitting on the sidewalk, breast feeding her baby.

After my walk, I check my email, and then head back out to the alameda for lunch. Doris usually eats here at the house, but I like to sample the local fare, and try something new each day if I can. So far the hotdog vendor puts out a mean weenie, and I like the shrimp tacos as well. But today I’ve decided I’m brave enough to try the fresh fruit. Why brave? Because the fruit cups are positively crawling with bees! Now, if they were crawling with flies, I wouldn’t touch it, but I am assured that the fruit is safe and the bees don’t do any harm. I purchase my fruit cup and sit down on a bench to enjoy my treat. All is going well until I put my hand in the cup and almost come up with a handful of bees! I shoo them away and continue my lunch. One gets used to such things here. I stop at the local store to bring home some ice cream. Doris likes vanilla.

Sometimes it is easier to walk in the street here rather than on the sidewalk. The sidewalks change elevation three, four or five times in a blocks’ span. Sometimes they are quite high - two or three feet higher than the street. I cut through the Mercado, which is a wondrous sight to behold. Vendors here sell everything from fruits and vegetables to meat to fabric. Time for a small siesta. I stake out a claim on the chaise lounge and snooze for a bit.

Alamos is a bustling little town. Everybody and his brother has a business of some sort, it seems. And the Mexican people are very kind, helpful and nice, even when you have no idea how to ask for what you want, or understand the answer when they give it you! I’m pretty good at “Cuanto dinero?” (How much money?) And if I see the answer written down, I’m OK. If not, I figure it out, and in a pinch I just hold out a handful of coin and let them take what they want. If I give too much, they give me back the excess. People here seem very honest, and oh my...very industrious! Everybody works. Even the bag boy at the market is only about eight or nine years old. From the vendors on the alameda to the little girl who sells homemade breads door-to-door, nobody is sitting around waiting for a handout.

My typical week goes like this: Monday, Wednesday and Friday - Zumba class. Tuesday - Writer’s group. Thursday - History club. Wednesday and Saturday - Spanish class. Sunday - Church.

I could go on and on, but I only have so much time left here. I can only say that this has been a wonderful experience, and I can hardly wait for my next adventure through the pages of The Caretaker Gazette!