La Comida!

Without a doubt, people move to Mexico for several reasons: the beautiful scenery, the gracious people, the pace of life, the less expensive cost of living, and the food.
An old joke is that Mexican food has all the same ingredients. Let's face it. Nachos? It's fried tortilla chips, with meat, cheese or vegetable. Burrito? Tortilla, with meat, cheese or vegetable. Taco? Tortilla, with meat, cheese or vegetable. Gordita, Enchillado....and the list continues.

The Food! La Comida.

It goes without saying that the food in Mexico is anything but your typical “combination plate” Mexican food dinner in the United States. Very, very few restaurants here will serve you chips and salsa when you sit down at your table.

What kind of food is in Mexico? There’s a lot of variety but the most popular type is tacos. 

Tacos

Obviously, tacos. And more tacos. One of the first questions posed by friends here was: “Do you like tacos?” It’s difficult not to.

And across from our apartment, we have two taco restaurants. Well, they’re not really restaurants. They are more people’s homes, who use their inside front area to cook sopes, tacos, quesadillas and gorditas. Of course, like many businesses in Mexico, they choose their hours: Monday to Friday from 8-10. Kinda of. They could be open earlier. Or decide not to open at all. One Sunday, they were open, and we were shocked.

Selecting the right Gordita, Sopes or Taco

And...what kind of stuff is in these tacos? The staples are puerco (pork), eggs, lettuce, onions and cilantro.  Of course avocado, if you want.And homemade salsa--usually verde or rojo--sometimes spicy. Okay, usually spicy. One taco is usually about 15 pesos. One woman, Marina, stands over a hot griddle, flipping the tortillas to perfection with her hands, precariously close to the burning hot iron. Another rotund woman sits, pounding and  flapping out tortillas by hand. This is Jana (pronounced Chana), whose restaurant bears her name. Those are their jobs, and they enjoy flipping the tortillas, talking and pleasing their customers. In Mexico, there is something intrinsic about food service. It’s not about making money, but about completing the job correctly. It’s all about pride.

After a hard day on a grill!

Right next door, there is a small door, Juan stands over a pig. Yes, that’s right. He starts out at 8 p.m.(sometimes) with a pig carcass and starts chopping up the whole pig. He divides it in 3 kinds of cerdo: everything from the pig (uh, that’s everything), only the middle, and then the legs and other not disgusting parts. People say the first part is the most flavorful! But I’ve only tried the last kind, and it was delicious. 2 tacos for about 24 pesos (that’s about $1.22 for both)

Now, Juan is interesting. People line up for hours for these pig tacos and for the show of him chopping, chopping and chopping.. Inside the restaurant (shop, home, whatever?), it is usually silent as people just watch him chop. For this reason, we call him the Taco Nazi--I can imagine someone saying they want chicken instead of pork, and he might scream, “no taco for you.!” 

We talked to him when he opened his restaurant and home  for a Posada and he was so sarcastic. And spoke good English. After that, he always gives us a smile. The Taco Nazi. I just hope George and Elaine don’t wander by.

Street Tacos

We won’t even talk about the street tacos, but let’s. A couple months ago, 2 men were frying up street tacos. Diane and I were starving (okay, only me). We had a couple, as the men used their cart on the street (hence the name: street tacos) to quickly throw down some tortillas, heat them and fill it with 
carne or pollo or pork.
It tasted great, as Diane and I downed the tacos immediately. You can either

The famous "street tacos"

eat them there: they give you a brightly colored plastic plate with plastic wrap over it and place the tacos on that..or you can take them to go. We ate there. The next day, Diane was in miserable pain, and the doctor diagnosed it as a parasite (she nicknamed it Charlie). The doctor advised us not to eat anymore street food, at least until she was better. Fortunately, I didn’t get sick. It might have been the tacos, or not.

Chilaquiles

Imagine Nachos gone wild and spicy. Those are chilaquiles. They are tortilla squares or strips smothered in verde or rojo salsa. But there’s more. We usually add pollo and cheese and top it with crema (uh, cream sauce) and anything else around. There is a franchise (or a lot of stores--it's difficult to tell in Mexico) called ChilaKing, which specializes in Chilaquiles--and tacos, sopes, etc. These particular Chilaquiles were eaten after we had played 2 hours of tennis--an unusual habit to down tortillas, chiles, cheese and pollo right after exercising. But, hey, this is the land of "anything goes." 
Especially with food.

Next: everything else: Sopes, Pozolli, and even non-Mexican food.

Pests and Posadas

Beautiful Los Arcos at night...

Pests
It seemed like a normal night in Queretaro. Diane was sitting on the couch and I was working on my computer in the kitchen. Then, I heard a blood-curdling shriek from Diane, as though they she was being attacked.

Diane only screamed “Scorpion. Scorpion.”

She didn’t say where it was. Originally, I thought it was on her body.

She jumped over the insect, like Jesse Owens hurdling over a fire-breathing dragon. She must have jumped 5 feet over it. She ran to me, I jumped up from my computer (hitting my glasses on my eyelid, causing bleeding). For some reason, we both cowered in the laundry room in the back. Gavin picked up Rudy and retreated to the laundry room also.

Diane screamed, “Get it, get it.”

Scorpion in House

(I made the photo small not to freak people out. Feel free to make it larger..)

I told her I couldn’t because I couldn’t see it--my glasses were knocked to the floor. I kept asking where it was. She pointed to the middle of the floor. Remember, I was under the assumption it was on her.

When I got my glasses on, sure enough, there was a 1-2 inch bug which resembled a scorpion. In the middle of our living room. On our white tile floor.

Keep in mind--we had no idea what this bug would do--was it fast, did it spray venom, was it poisonous? Did it breathe fire? We had no idea!

All 3 of us had no idea what to do.

So, Diane ran out to our neighbors, Michelle and Alessandro--we figured they had lived in several other countries before and they would know more than us. Diane ran to them, and they immediately came over. They told us quickly they had never seen before this (not giving us much comfort), but told us to trap it with a cardboard box.

Diane then sought out our next door neighbor, Carlos, who works for Queretaro. He immediately asked us if we had alcohol. Diane and I looked at each other, and said “Sure, Tequila?” He said no, and ran to his apartment to get rubbing alcohol. He then ignited the bug. He told us that you burn it so it lets off a scream to the other scorpions not to come near. (Later, we found out that you also burn it because the bug might have had eggs, and smashing it would have spread the small eggs around the room).

I immediately took the cardboard and emptied our friend into the toilet. We cleaned the area with disinfectant and Michelle and Alessandro took Diane to the store to buy insect spray. We decided not to use it because it was not safe for pets inside. .

What did we learn from the internet about our "scorpion?"

1-When we told our friends in Mexico about the scorpion, some matter-of-factly said “Oh, yeah, we have those,” while others were shocked, saying “We’ve never seen one.”

2-Apparently, it was related to the scorpion, but an alacrane, which is very common in Mexico. According to my internet research, everyone--even the small ones --have venom, but usually will not kill, but just make you sick. There are hundreds of species but only a couple are dangerous. But a hospital visit will relieve the pain, if any. It may only be fatal to small children-under 2-and small pets (our dog!)

3-They live in dark places. So, every dark spot we saw for 2 weeks, Diane asked me if that was a scorpion. Now, we shake out our sheets and check our shoes.

4-This was just a fluke, we think. We hope. We do live next to a farm-with the rooster and chickens. And we heard all kinds of stories, like they fly through the air, they live in trees, etc.

5-Our house is in Southern California, where there are black widows, rattle snakes, possum, and the lethal brown recluse. I think all of these may be more lethal than anacranes.

Bottom line: be careful where you step.

Ponce at the Posada

Afterward, we were invited to a Posada, which is the Mexican tradition of opening up your house and/or restaurant to your neighbors. During Christmas, it is the “celebration” of Mary and Joseph looking for a place to give birth to Jesus Christ.  

Festivities during the Posada on our street

Inside our neighbors' houses, music abounds. 

The Posada was right outside our apartment, and, although we were still shaking from the alacrane incident--we went anyway. Beautiful, colorful banners were streamed across the street and fireworks and sparklers were given to everyone passing by.

 Festive for the Holidays

It was about 9 at night, but small children were still outside, twirling the sparklers and eating the food. It’s a charming idea--and very hospitable-to let people into your house and serve them ponche (a kind of apple cider filled with fruit, cinnamon sticks and sugar canes.)  

We met our neighbors who own the 2 taco and sopes stands across the street. Of course, they were serving tacos and other food (which I couldn’t identify) for free as part of the Mexican Posada. Just part of the Mexican hospitality.

It was quite a night in Mexico.

Sights and sounds of Queretaro

Our Backyard

 (Turn On Sound)
That's right. We have a rooster in Queretaro. So, when we wake up in the morning, we don't hear the sounds from our suburban home in Agoura. Instead, we hear the crowing of a rooster and the cackling of hens, chickens and other creatures in our backyard.

The first day we heard him, I affectionately named him Rusty. Rusty the Rooster. It seemed like a fitting name. Kind of an All-American name in Queretaro. As Rusty cock-a-doodling the morning here in Mexico, we are all scurrying about, going to school and to work.

This is Gavin's high school--and Diane's work!

                      C-H-A-N-G-E-S

So, has life for us changed? Well, yes. No longer do we hear coyotes howling, sirens blazing, the traffic from the 101 freeway or garbage trucks in the early morning. We just hear Rusty the Rooster. 

Rudy guarding la fuenta at Jardin Zenea

Other things have changed as well. We Uber everywhere. As the Uber commercial says, it's like having your own personal driver. Because that's what they are. Financially, it's less expensive here than to drive--if you factor in insurance, maintenance and the high price of gas. Plus, this way I can put on my tie, text in the car or Diane can put on her makeup. In Los Angeles, I would walk up to 1 mile a day; in Queretaro, my average walk is about 2-5 miles a day. No, we're not walking everywhere--but it is faster to walk to the restaurant than to drive there. We walk to the bank, to the panaderia (Queretaro's Bea's Bakery), the gym, the market, the park--for Rudy--the hair stylist, and, oh, we just walk almost everywhere. 

The mysterious "Los Arcos" lit up by a full moon

There are some disadvantages about being in Mexico--a "third world country." Our apartment has no garbage disposal, no dishwasher, no heat or air conditioning. Sometimes the hot water runs out, and other times the electricity just turns off.

Life is simple, here. Manana seems to be the word of the day. Everyday. Especially tomorrow. 

And the advantages? Lots. 

I have yet to find a mean person in Queretaro. Even when you are trying to speak Spanish, they will try to help you and figure out what you need. People smile and say "Buenos Dias" all the time. At the park, couples will just hold hands or be arm-in-arm. No hidden agenda. Nowhere to run to--just being with each other.

Streets at Night

And, the food is fantastic. Even the tacos on the street are delicious. (more on this on a later blog called "la comida"--I think that means "the food.") Diane continues to cook, and usually not Mexican food. She has cooked salmon, "panko" chicken with rice, pulled pork sandwiches, and baked cookies, banana nut loaf, and brownies. Yes, when we are all starving, Gavin might throw a tortilla on the fire with some avocado and cheese--and salsa. That can be the dinner.

Working at El Mercado

Where do we go shopping? El Mercado de la Cruz, of course. The first time we went to el mercado we were aghast--the smell alone could have killed us. Now, we buy much of what we have at the market--fruits, vegetables, tortillas, soap, juices, yogurts, kitchen supplies, gorditas, and even electrical supplies. Diane found a baker's store--a kind of Sur Le Table del Queretaro--which has everything a baker would ever need. No packaging--usually, the clerk divvies out the rice with their hands. The elderly woman makes corn tortillas with her own hands. Fresh. Good. And there is no USDA here. Your receipt is scrawled on a little piece of paper by hand.

Templo de San Francisco

And, yes, prices here are low. Generally. If you go shopping at United States stores, they are usually the same price (Gap, Old Navy, Office Depot, Costco, Home Depot, Buffalo Wild Wings, etc. are all here). But with the peso quickly dropping against the U.S. dollar, our dollar is worth about 4 times the peso. 

The view from Gavin's room

Me at the apartment

Our Apartment Courtyard

Another view from our apartment

A typical Queretaro street

Then, there's the beauty. The streets of Queretaro are colorful and filled with mystery.  Diane always remarks that you don't know what is behind each door. While one door may look old and decrepit, it may open up into a beautiful courtyard. Our friend tells us that the city wants to preserve the history and the doors looking old, but the people want newer apartments inside. So, there are a lot of renovations going on--behind closed doors (literally).

This is not Southern California. It rains. And there are white, billowing clouds which fill the sky. All in all, this is a beautiful place to live.

Living the good life

A beautiful day in Queretaro

Next blog: La Comida, Celebrations (including Yom Kippur and Thanksgiving), Educational system, and Bureaucracy--that will include my 8 visits to the Immigracion Office to become a temporary resident, and the election (gulp). 

Your Papers, por favor?

Exit Strategy:  As we rolled out of John's van with our massive amounts of luggage and carry-ons, Gavin, Rudy and I said goodbye to Los Angeles and our suburban life--at least for a year or so.

We should have known something was wrong: the first warning sign came when the Aeromexico ticket counter clerk asked for Rudy's health permit. He told us the documents were not original, but after conferring with his supervisor, they decided they were okay (a mistake as you will see later).
  

We were told by everyone (the vet, Diane, people who have dogs, the internet--that's everyone) that you should give Rudy the "pill" to calm him down about an hour before the flight. But we had to get him into that little doggie carrier for the flight.

Okay, so how many of you have had to drug a cute, fluffy white dog at 5:30 in the morning in a TSA line? Not many, I bet. But there we were--trying everything. First, we tried putting the half a pill into the doggie treats. That didn't work. Then, we took one of our turkey sandwiches, and rolled the turkey around the pill. That didn't work. Finally, somehow, Rudy took the pill and we could sail through TSA with no problem.

But we had to wait about 30 minutes for the pill to take effect, then Rudy happily went into the carrier.

The flight to Mexico City was uneventful. The food was good, the flight attendants were courteous, and we thought everything would be perfect in Mexico. Even Rudy was well-behaved. He whimpered a bit, and at times he snuck out of his carrier. We got excited about the upcoming adventure. Well, at least Rudy did.

Mexico City Airport Food

When we got to Mexico City airport, everything seemed so clean. Gavin and I chowed down our first food in Mexico--focaccia pizza, which was rather expensive (about 270 pesos ($12) for 2 small pies and sodas)--as we ran to get our connecting flight to Queretaro. I marveled at the irony that we had just flown from the U.S. to Mexico and were now eating Italian food. We thought this food was a safe bet and had been warned not to eat anything strange. Plus, we didn't understand the Spanish of the other dinners. Little did we know that all kinds of mystery meats would be awaiting us in Mexico.

Spanish/English signs

We both noticed that Mexico had a lot of signs in Spanish. Wow. A minor culture shock. Most were bilingual, but most everyone was speaking Spanish, even some pilots.

Then there were the bags. 11 of them. I had to have my camera bag and Gavin wanted his pillow. We had 4 massive bags of luggage. Customs seemed to be a breeze: we just answered some questions, filled out the form in Spanish (with help from several agents) and we thought we were done.
Nope.

Do You Know a Good Vet in Mexico City?
"Sir, your dog needs to be cleared for Mexico through the health inspector," one of the agents told me.
Okay, no problem. I walked over to the health inspector and had my papers.
Inspector: May I see your papers, please?
Me: Sure, they are right here (handing him the $130 health certificate from Agoura and Rudy's vaccination records).
Inspector: No (this was not a mean "no"--it was matter-of-fact, as if to say there was a small mistake for a big problem)
Me: What?
Inspector: Where is the original?
Me: Huh. That is the original. From Agoura, er, California.
Inspector: No. We cannot let your dog in with these papers. You need new ones.
Me: What? What do you want me to do?
At that, he just walked in the back, and asked his colleagues for something.
Me: Sir, what do I need to do? These papers are fine? They are from the United States (I learned later you should never try pulling the "U.S. card" with Mexican officials).
Another inspector: No.
Me: But they are the original (not telling him that I had made 4 copies and the inked one was sitting on my desk in Agoura). I paid U.S. dollars for this.
Inspector: You need another one.
I was quickly becoming super-frustrated. Gavin was waiting by the carousel with our horde of luggage and I had the dog in his carrier. We schlepped our bags in a cart over to the inspector's office and Gavin helped out.

Gavin at Mexico City Airport waiting...waiting...

Gavin: So, if we get an inspector, we can pass through Customs?
Inspector: Si.
Me: How do I do that? How much? How long will it take? We have a plane to catch.
Inspector: Ok.
He went into the back and plopped down a massive yellow pages with pages of veterinarians. I was shocked that 1) people still had "yellow pages" and 2) there were so many vets in Mexico. Exasperated, I asked him which one, and he immediately pointed to one.
Me: Could you call him for me?

He called and within 10 minutes a phone rang to signal the arrival of the vet. Rudy and I were escorted to a shady room on the side of the airport (Gavin was not permitted because they said only one person could be with the pet). The vet took out his stethoscope and heard Rudy's heart, looked at his eyes and said, "Ok, he's good. "
Me: What now?
Vet: When you pay me the 820 pesos($41), I will sign the health certificate.
I immediately took out my iphone and tried to figure out how much U.S. cash that would be. I only had a $20 bill and gave it to him.
Vet: No.
Me: That's all I have. Do you take credit cards?
Vet: (laughing). Well, we will just have to....
Me: Wait, let me ask my son.
So I ran across the baggage claim area, asking Gavin for another $21. He only had $15 total.
Me: This is all I have. Please. Please...
Vet. Ok. That is okay.
Me: Are you sure? Is that okay?
Vet: Sure. Enjoy your stay.
He signed the health certificate, then he said something in Spanish to his friends and laughed. I am sure it was about Americans not having enough money. We're still not sure if it was a scam between the vet and the inspectors. Maybe. Maybe not. A rude awakening to the policies in Mexico!

Helpful Tip: When traveling with pets, make sure you have originals and copies.

Viaje a Queretaro:
The plane trip to Queretaro went through a thunderstorm, so the ride was very bumpy. I don't think Rudy noticed as he was in his little doggie bag.
We got in at Queretaro about 10 p.m. in pouring rain. We walked down onto the tarmac but the Aeromexico attendants held out umbrellas for us. A nice touch.

Diane and Rudy at the airport (not really)

At baggage claim, we had to claim our 6 bags (minus carry-ons). Outside, Diane was waiting for us, with her colleague Jake, who would later drive Gavin to our apartment in Queretaro.
Knowing my wife, I immediately went up to her, gave her a big kiss, and handed the dog to her.

Then, I tried to go back inside to help Gavin gather the luggage. A security attendant was at the gate.
"No."
Me: What? My son is in there. Please let me back in.
Attendant: No hablo Ingles.
So, we tried to speak to him, but the rules in Mexico are rules (except when they are not followed). After a couple minutes, Gavin got all the bags, Diane and I called an Uber and we drove through the rain to our glistening, slippery new city.

We were ready to start our new adventure in Queretaro.

Packing the House, Renting and Flying Dogs...

The Call
When Diane first got the call to work in Mexico, it was June. She was at camp and I was home with my son Noah. Her response: "Eric--It's easy; just pack everything."

House in a Box

It was like packing up the entire house. Because that's what I did!

Like Moving Our Entire House

The next couple months were some of the most stressful I've ever had, arranging and labeling every box into the back room (thanks to Sandy, Yael, et al), arranging every bill to be paid online, researching how to rent a house, drawing up a lease and getting the correct insurance for our house.

Car-Less
At the same time, we realized that you cannot just leave your car on the street for a year--it either has to be in your driveway, at a car parking garage (the same rate as a storage facility=expensive) or sell it. We decided to sell the cars. All of them. 
First, the CR-V.

Noah and I say goodbye to the CR-V

The idea of selling our cars was like departing with your prize running back in a Fantasy league. Ouch. But it had to be done. 
A friend of ours told us to try Carmax and they might give us the best price. Yup. Noah and I went on August 14, they gave us an offer and we actually came out a couple thousand dollars ahead, and thought we had the best deal, until Erica saw our CR-V for sale for $6,000 more on the Carmax website. 

Then, selling my Accord:

I remember that Accord...

In foresight, I should have started selling it months ahead, but I loved that car. After playing with the Kelly Blue Book prices and other B.S. sites, a mechanic offered me a fair price 3 days before we were to leave for Mexico. The day before we left for Mexico, we sold the Camry to our housekeeper. 

3 cars sold within 2 weeks! 

Diane and I figured we saved thousands on insurance, registration fees, smog checks and gas. We were now in the Uber-mode of getting around. For most of you reading this, the thought of not having a car in Los Angeles is like, well,  not having a car in Los Angeles. It's just not done. But we did it!

Renting:
We had the good fortune to rent our house to our close friends, the Kanes, who were moving back from Israel and we could keep the house furnished. We all agreed everything would be done online--including the rent, bills, etc. Now, although Mexico is erroneously considered a "third-world 
country,"  http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/third_world_countries.htm
it does have the ability to call toll free numbers, so we could call our creditors. With that settled, Gavin, Noah and I prepared to move out, as we took photos of everything in our house (a tip from several renters and realtors). We secured the correct insurance policy (thanks to our niece Sandy--who was a lifesaver) and were ready to go to Mexico. Our friend John Friedman agreed to drive us to the airport at 5 30 a.m. (gulp) on August 19. 

The Dog...and Traveling
Funny thing about Mexico--they love dogs...and cats. So, taking our little Rudy would be no problem, right? Well.......

Rudy in his new doggy airplane home

First, we had to visit the vet in Agoura to get a health permit.  Because Rudy is so small, he could go under the seat but had to stay in his carrier. Now, Rudy would be fine on the plane; it was getting him into a small pet carrier that was the biggest problem. I was a bit angry that Rudy wouldn't get choice of steak or fish for dinner! But how would you like to be in a carrier for a 4 hour plane ride? And this is Rudy--a dog we feed from the table, who sleeps in our bed and Diane considers her fourth son. Can you say spoiled?

As we were advised, we gave Rudy a pill 1 week before the flight to see how he would react to the pill. Rudy is usually very calm, but after half an hour, he seemed drunk. He could hardly stand up. He started bumping into things. Then he started to sleep. And sleep. I was worried, so I made sure he was alive by checking his pulse. He was calm, but this was way too calm. And this was half a pill His drunken stupor lasted for a good 4-6 hours, and he finally came back to normal. 

We were ready for the flight...and Mexico..or so we thought....

Yes, the next blog will actually have photos of Mexico....

Why a Blog? Why Teaching y Tacos

Why Blog?

Buenos Dias,

Let's face it: 

So many blogs are sooo serious and tell the same story over and over. Like "Then my friends and I went out for dinner and had Korean food"  (well, you are in Korea)

    

or "We saw the most beautiful sunset over the lake--only in Austria"(not mentioning the sun is all over the world). 

This blog will TRY to be comedic...and poignant...and insightful. Yeah, right.

The key word there is try. 

Now, I'm not a comedian. 

Mi Familia (sin dog Rudy)

I'm just a teacher, and a dad with 3 boys, a wife, a dog and a very "dry" sense of humor. I've never tried comedy (does it show?). 

I will also try to tell my story with anecdotes, funny links, photos, and lots of humor. I will try to keep the blogs short because, hey, you don't have time to read all my stories, and I don't have that much time to write them.

So, let's start with the beginning: Why Teaching y Tacos?

If you've ever started a blog, the title is one of the most difficult parts to complete. Try to make it interesting and relevant. Yeah.

Not me, but could be!

If you are interested in either international teaching or tacos or our family, you should visit this blog. In Queretaro, we are inundated by both--teaching and tacos. The entire "taco" idea is ironic, considering my first job was at Taco Bell, where I thought a Burrito Supreme was the best meal ever. Hey, it was a burrito, and it was Supreme!

I have been teaching for almost 24 years in Los Angeles and our journey to Mexico was a bit of a shock (more on this later).  There are tacos y sopes y chile rellenos y mas tortillas on virtually every street corner. One of the major streets is Universidad. It's apparent that education is important here. Hence, the name: Teaching y Tacos. 

In the Beginning....

Our Agoura House

In the Beginning...

After 24 years of teaching in the San Fernando Valley (Los Angeles), why would we leave beautiful suburbia and travel south of the border? The answer is not a simple one. It was a difficult decision to leave family and friends. But, we figured, this would only be for a year or so. We took the plunge to go overseas to experience a new culture.

The One-Year Plan

It was time to get out of suburbia and go exploring--something my wife Diane and I have wanted to do since we visited Australia in 1992 and met teachers who swapped houses and jobs. The thinking was: I would teach, she would be a high school college counselor or event planner, and my son Gavin would go to an international school. When we talked to our friends, it seemed that everyone knew someone who had taught overseas and loved it. Our friends who learned about our plans either said one of two things: "You're crazy," or "Wow, what an amazing adventure." Most mentioned the last one. 

Recruiting Services

We googled everything about international teaching and kept finding the same sites recurring: Search Associates and TIE. We called both recruiters and found there were amazing jobs all over the world. Yes, Search Associates cost a lot of money (about $400) but the resources were deep: detailed descriptions of schools, international job fairs, personal contacts with international educators, blogs, etc. TIE was a little more limited(about $29) and just listed schools with descriptions. After getting our coffee, my wife and I looked at both sites almost daily. We applied everywhere, except certain repressive Middle East and Eastern European countries. Yes, there were (and are) listings for Afghanistan and Lebanon. 

                                                                    

Eventually, I received Skype interviews from Brazil and Poland. But they had someone else in mind, apparently, and did not hire me. Their loss, we figured.

From Beijing to Cambodia to Mexico

Unhealthful--even for Los Angeles

I was subsequently seriously examined by schools in Beijing and then hired by a Canadian School in Wuhan, China. But after consulting with our doctor, we concluded that living in China for a year would be detrimental to our health, with the air pollution off the scale, and we turned it down. If you think Los Angeles has bad pollution, living in Wuhan would be like walking into a toxic chimney everyday. Not only was the air polluted, but reports are that the "fresh vegetables" in China are also harvested with contaminated soil--at least in that area. Yikes.

Neighborhood of Cambodian school--not Agoura!

I also received an offer at a small school in Cambodia, but after looking at Google Maps, I found the thriving city of Phnom Penh would be a very difficult transition, with its dire poverty. Yes, it has beautiful temples downtown, but that is not where the school was located. I couldn't imagine Gavin walking to the local mall and getting a Slurpee. It was just too different for the first time experience.

Out of the Blue (Azul)...

By May, we had given up and contemplated applying for 2017. Then, out of the blue, my wife received an email in June from Teachers-Latin-America, stating there was a job in Queretaro, Mexico and asked whether she was still interested. After a series of short Skype interviews, she was hired as a high school college counselor. Our recruiter, Guy, told us it would be simple for me to find a job in Queretaro and gave insight into the city and the schools.


We knew little about Mexico, and even less about teaching there:

it was time to start packing up our entire house, find renters, sell our 3 cars, get work visas, buy plane tickets and move onto Mexico for at least one year.