Bye, Bye Fideicomiso! Could it Really Be True?

PLEASE READ THIS AND SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS!

If we were communicating today by drums, the air around La Paz would be vibrating with the coconut telegraph sounding the word, about the impending doom of the fideicomiso. Gringos are all abuzz thinking that they will be able to shed the annoying fideicomiso that is the instrument that allowed them to buy their little piece of paradise. And perhaps they will, but not this week or this month.

The Mexican government changed their constitution in 1997 to make it possible for foreigners to own property in the restricted zones of Mexico. Those zones are 50 km from the coast and 100 km from a foreign border. The fideicomiso ( a trust-like contract) was amended and adapted so that foreigners could safely and legally own property on the beach.

The original logic behind creating restricted zones was to keep foreigners from aiding invading navies or armies. It is highly unlikely today, that Belize or Guatemala or even Uncle Sam will invade by land or sea, or invade at all.

Foreigners owning homes in Mexico complain about the recurring administration fees for their fideicomisos. The fiduciary banks do nothing really, and yet they get their $450-600 dollars every year.

For years we have been hearing that any minute now the federal government was going to do away with the fideicomiso. Well the time seems to have come. A bill was presented to the federal congress to eliminate the fideicomiso.

It passed.

It is now awaiting discussion in the Senate. Once the Senate approves the bill it goes to the president for signature.

But wait! Even after the presidential signature It is not law yet! The signed document must be published in the Diario Nacional (like the Congressional Record in the US).

So, don’t go running to the bank and demand that they close your fideicomiso.

It isn’t going to be all that easy.

First the Senate and others need to decide how the Calvo clause will work if foreigners will now have escrituras ( Mexican fee simple titles). The Calvo Clause is used the world over , in Mexico it is part of the fideicomiso and when you sign your new fideicomiso, you agree to act as a Mexican national and will not try to invoke the laws of your native country when it comes to issue surrounding your property.

Then there is the Investment clause. And this clause states that if you have land larger than 2,000 square meters you must develop it within 24 months and spend at least $250,000 on the improvements. And that investment figure goes up as the size of the property goes up.

Oh and then there is the Secretary of Foreign Relations known as the SRE here in Mexico. When I closed transactions for buyers in Guadalajara and San Miguel de Allende, even though there was no fideicomisos, there was still a permit issued by the SRE. These take time and cost money.

Escrituras are titles that Mexican citizens get when they buy land. There is no SRE permit, no Calvo or Investment Clause in the existing escritura. So how will this work for foreigners? Someone has to figure this out.

My sources say the Senate may very well pass this law, and the president will sign it IF:

  • · If the US doesn’t do something objectionable that affects Mexicans
  • · If the banks don’t somehow throw a monkey wrench into the works
  • · If the bill does not have too many additions or deletions that the president cannot abide

This is wonderful news for new buyers, for  foreign owners, and for real estate attorneys and notarios.

Closing costs may be significantly lower for new buyers.

Existing property owners can drop the fideicomiso and save $400-600 a year, that’s a lot of tequila.

Real estate attorneys and notarios will make more money. And houses can sell and transactions can close more quickly

BUT! Already one buyer has wondered why they should buy now and pay for a fideicomiso that may be no longer necessary in 6 months or a year. The excitement  and the spreading  of misinformation may affect the decisions of buyers.

Could we have a moment of silence while everyone reads this blog post and shares it?

I am as happy as everyone else to wish the fideicomiso farewell, but I can see the issues that have to be ironed out.

We have at least six months, and more likely a year before anything changes.

Watch this space for new developments.

Notes From Big Pink: How I Broke My Ankle

This is the first in a series of missives about trying to function for the next EIGHT weeks in a cast. This one is long, it sets the scen.

Here is where I will be sitting with my laptop at my side:

Aaaah, La Paz! There are good days and there are bad days.
On the good days, the sun is shining, the air is cool and tastes of salt, the sea sparkles and the espresso comes to the table hot, with the foamed milk just right, and maybe there is even a flower drawn in the milk.
After 12 years in La Paz, my blood has thinned, I have acclimated. What was once “sweater weather “ in California, and may feel downright balmy to those of you from northern climes, it is bone chilling for me.
But last Saturday, the sun was shining and the sea was sparkling, we had just finished breakfast at Maria California , where they always draw a flower in the foamed milk of my double decaf, extra hot macchiato.

We decided to take our precious Chihuahua Coco-Nut Ibrahim Garcia for a walk on the Malecon ( ocean front promenade)
And then it happened.

After our usual Saturday breakfast with friends we braved the cold to take Coco-Nut for a walk on the Malecon. I tripped on a step fell and broke my ankle. That was six days ago. I will be in a cast for 6-8 weeks.

At first the pain was so excruciating, I was writhing on the ground screaming in pain.
It slowly subsided. I could wiggle my toes, and my foot was numb.
“ I think I broke something.” I wailed to my Beloved.
“Well maybe not”, he said, “since you can wiggle your toes.”
I sat and considered my options for a moment. The car was parked nearby, like a bright yellow beacon it sparkled in the January sun. It was little more than the length of a crosswalk away.
My Beloved held me and we hobbled to the car. By the time we got home I could not put any weight on my foot.
Luckily Salvador, our gardener was there and he helped my Beloved, Ira walk me inside. I took some Tylenol, Ira wrapped my ankle and iced it with some frozen peas. ( still in the bag)

Salvador finished his work, I took a nap in my pink chair. Ira napped in the bedroom.
Then Salvador came flying in our front door yelling for Ira.
The same weird man that tried to get in my house last week was sitting on the chairs in front of the casita taking off his clothes! Salvador was driving past when he saw him. And he knew it was not our present guests because he makes a point of meeting all of our guests ( they all are charmed by him).
The guy walked off and down the street. And there ensued one of our famous neighborhood mobilizations. But he always disappears into the wind. We have called the police, but they did not get it, that this guy is a nuisance and needs to go to a mental hospital. When I called the police they thought I said that Ira needed to go to the mental hospital!
So when the clamor died down we decided I should go to ER. .
Ira looked up the word for wheelchair so that when we got to the ER he could tell them what he needed.

Tomorrow, I will amaze you with the  prompt, personal and inexpensive medical care, at a private hospital.

Blowin’ in the Wind: My Patio Furniture!

It was still dark, but the sky was starting to lighten.And the remnants of last night’s storm gave us this gorgeous sky.

Just after sunrise taken from our terrace in El Comitan

Something woke me. A bump or the sound of something being dragged. I saw a flash of lightning, so I turned over and tried to sleep a little longer.
There it was again, like someone was in the house or on the roof.

“ Did you hear that?” I shook my Beloved awake. “Someone is in the house!” “ Get up!”

He took a moment to pull on some shorts and slip his feet into slippers. I got up to get dressed and find a weapon to help my Beloved. The dog jumped off the bed, but did not bark. He was following me into the dressing room. I pulled on a robe and a pair or mismatched flip-flops. I grabbed what was at hand for clothing and shoes in-the-dark. No time to be a Diva when someone could be robbing the family silver.
My Beloved was already in the front of the house, I could still hear bumping but not a word from him.

I grabbed the heavy flashlight from my bedside and went out to the main part of the house. He was there looking out the patio doors.
“It was probably that bucket right there.”
The little blue bucket was sitting upright, exactly where he had put it the night before.

“ No way that little bucket made enough noise to wake us. And it is right where we put it last night.”
“Well it is windy.”
This is male logic: A tiny bucket that has not moved from its place near the pool made noise loud enough to startle us awake, twice. In other words he had no idea what made the noise and illogical as it sounded, he blamed the bucket. Once when we still lived in San Jose, CA our backyard sensor lights came on in the middle of the night.
I called to him:
“ Sweetness, there must be someone in the backyard, the lights came on, go check!”
“ No dear, don’t be silly, it must have been a cow walking by.”

I am not making this up! My scientist husband, said a cow walked in our back yard. We lived 2 miles from downtown San Jose. Ours was an urban neighborhood with nary a cow, nor a plot of land big enough for a cow to turn around in.
“ A cow? A Cow?” I asked him twice.
He just looked at me as if I were speaking an unknown language and walked away.

So why am I surprised that he would say that a little plastic bucket we bought to keep near the pool so we could empty the strainer into it instead of piling dead bougainvillea leaves on the side of the pool that would only blow back in when they dried, that little bucket woke us? No Way!

Seeing that in fact we were not the victims of home intruders, I went outside to take pictures of the gorgeous morning sky. The breeze was heavenly. Well actually the wind was heavenly.
I opened up all the doors and windows to let the fresh air in.
When I opened the door to our “Spa Terrace” I saw this:

This is what went bump in the wee hours.
This terrace is my refuge, I like to meditate here, I like to sit and enjoy a coffee, the city lights, the moon, the silence. It is always beautifully arranged in a cozy grouping. The chairs have lime green cushions with striped piping(they blew away, but I found them). Because of the storms, the umbrella was closed and sitting where it belongs in it’s GRANITE base. It is a very big and heavy umbrella. Did I mention that it was closed? The potted palms were in new places as well. It is almost impossible for me to move those potted palms.

And this is what a little wind did.
Well I guess, not such a little wind. The wind was strong enough to lift this chair, move the chair flip the rug and drop the chair on the folded edge and rearrange all of the furniture, and scoot the potted palms around.
Look:

Why did all of this stuff move and not the famous bucket? The Spa Terrace is funnel shaped so any wind becomes a vortex. The bucket sits on the main terrace in front of the pool. It is surprising that the lounge chairs near the bucket moved in the wind. The cushions on the other patio furniture were tossed about, and one throw pillow is missing, but the bucket did not move.
Those must be some heavy bougainvillea leaves!
Here is what the grouping should look like. Well the cushions are now safely inside until the wind stops:

Hurricane John is well south and west of us, but we have had rain and thunder storms for days. This morning’s wind is a wonderful refresher after all of that humid air.
So now I know that if there is a hurricane looming even my potted palms need to be secured. And Mr. Stubborn “you don’t have to move everything”, may not even argue with me when I insist on battening down.

Do You Know Where This Is in La Paz?

Do you know where this is in La Paz

Just as a goldie-oldie on the radio can bring your teen age summers at the beach rushing back with the smell of suntan oil, French fries and the salty sea, so can other sights, sounds, smells or objects.
After a couple of wonderful, but long rainy days in El Comitan, my Beloved and I were hankering for some time in town.
We went to town in the early evening and decided on a cold drink, and a light snack.
As we were waiting for our food I snapped the picture you see above.
It feels like an old port on a windy coast after a storm.
It brought back memories of Half Moon Bay or Princeton, California before they became chi-chi.
We would walk on the beach , the wind so strong we could lean back against it and be pushed along. When our faces ached from the cold, our glasses fogged over with salt sea spray, and our hair was full of sand, we would head back to Nancy’s Fish Trap in Princeton, or one of the cafes in Half Moon Bay.
Once we sat in the first location of Main Street Sushi, the weather was wild, windy, slashing rain, it was cold, it was summer. The windows rattled and the wind wailed. We enjoyed a wonderful sushi platter. The streetlights came on, the streets glistened in the rain, the lush flowers and trees were whipped by the wind and their blossoms stuck to the window.
We felt truly alone and isolated like castaways washed up on a foreign shore.

It was romantic.

Same picutre a few minutes later!

This picture took me back to that wonderful day in Half Moon Bay.
It was a balmy night, there had not yet been any reain in La Paz, but the clouds over El Mogote created a magnificent sunset.
This is a light on a post on the Tailhunter at street level.
Did you guess it?
Please leave a comment here on the blog ( upper left there is the word COMMENT) telling me whether you knew where the picture was taken, or if you had to read to the bottom.
Thanks,
Susan

Flying Over California in a Tiny Plane With My Son as the Pilot!

Approaching Morro Bay

Gorgeous scene, no? It would look good on a postcard don’t you think? As scenes go, it is one of thousands that can be seen in coastal California.
So what makes this scene and this picture so special?
Circling Morro Rock in a wondrous flying machine

I took it while sitting in the co-pilot’s seat of my son’s Beechcraft Bonanza! It is a beautiful little plane. And it symbolizes so much for him and our family.

A year ago in April, my son, Avram lost his precious youngest son, Thomas to cancer. It was a fierce battle, with hardly a victory for Thomas. And it was a battle we knew he could not win from the day he was diagnosed. We hoped the treatments-the horrific treatments- would buy Thomas time, and maybe new treatments would come along.
There just wasn’t enough time.

When Avram announced that he had decided to leave his flying club and buy his own plane, we were thrilled for him. He said that one thing he learned from Thomas is that life is short, and he was not going to put off his dreams any longer.

Pre-flight check. He keeps his iPad at hand for info.

Two years ago, we had flown with Avram in one of the small planes owned by his flying club. We were flying over the Santa Monica pier when we were ordered out to sea because President Obama was aboard Air Force One and it was entering our air space, we had to make way. We circled for a few minutes and were given the all-clear to return to our route During that same visit we joined the LAPD air support team on an actual shift in the police helicopter. We were warned if there were a big event like an O.J. chase, we would be in the helicopter until the event was over.
No crimes that day, just a false alarm at the local bank. But we did do a “beauty pass” of the HOLLYWOOD sign, which I blogged about two years ago.

HOLLYWOOD sign an American icon

So back to this past July. Avram took us from Camarillo airport to Morro Bay and we circled the famous Morro Bay rock.

He banked hard so I could get good photos. My Beloved in the back seat said he felt as if he was going to fall out. I kept the wing in the picture so you could see I really was flying through the air in a light plane.
Pre-flight fuel check,Avram and Ira, my Beloved

I loved every minute of it, even when on the way back the sun, and motion of the plane combined to put me to sleep. Good thing Avram was not also lulled!
After we secured the plane, we ate lunch outside at the Camarillo airport, a place where the rich, the famous and hardworking people with a love of flying hang out. We watched planes come and go, and felt very nostalgic. Small airports still have the romance of flying.
Last pass and then home

Baja Bottles and Shells, Magical Things From the Beach in La Paz!

Antique bottles nestled in one of Mary's Shell Wreaths

Beach, just seeing or hearing the word takes me away to a place of salt, sand, sun and peace.
I grew up in New Jersey, and Fort Hancock on the end of the sand spit called Sandy Hook was where I spent many a summer day.
The only day I did not go to the beach in August 1970 was the day my darling daughter Melissa was born. That was August 17th.
When we were kids growing up in Atlantic Highlands New Jersey, we lived a few blocks from the Sandy Hook Bay beach. My mother did not drive. So she gave us each an inner tube to carry, lined my brother, Merrell’s wagon with an army blanket, plopped La Princessa Patti ( my younger sister) in the middle and surrounded her with our lunch, our towels, change of clothes and beach toys.

Off we trekked to spend the day at the beach. And we loved it. Every second of it. And of course we collected shells and lots of other flotsam that washed ashore. My mother, as mothers do, had to limit what we could carry home, so we were told to only collect perfect shells. Otherwise we would have carried home every fragment, shard and sliver of shell.

Just an artsy shot of some candle ring shell wreaths on my patio

Now I live on the beach in La Paz, Baja California Sur. I collect shells of every size and color. For years I was addicted to collecting what we call jingle shells, gorgeous fragile, oddly shaped shells that range in color from pearly white to yellow, golden yellow and vibrant orange.
I love the gorgeous spiral curves of the inside of shells that I will dub “snails” anything that had a creature inside that spun their gorgeous homes.
These gorgeous yellow and white striped shells came from El Mogote, the sandbar that forms the La Paz harbor. We were wading and started to see these gorgeous shells lying on the bottom. We fulled bag after bag with them, and had to float the bags as we walked back to our chairs.

Some days, I have to do a shell intervention with Mary. When she starts hodling her back, I know it is time to stop. She always says " Just one more...please."

My friend Mary and I spend hours in the winter collecting shells, and we are always surprised what we find. And certain days big shells attract us and that is all we will pick up, others it is small to tiny shells. And always oddly-shaped shells. Mary makes the gorgeous shell wreaths pictured in this blog.
I take credit for inspiring her.
We would collect the shells and take them home to pile around the house, or stored them in jars and otherwise drop them and forget about them. There was no mother to tell us to only pick the perfect ones, or to only take home five.

Then I decided to see how many household objects would look better adorned with shells. Out came the glue gun, and nothing was safe! I glued shells on mirrors, picture frames, I wrapped a yogurt container with fabric then glued shells on it. It was to hold a roll of toilet paper in my outside bathroom.

Soon Mary and I were having shell contests.
But she has created the most amazing objects, including seashore Santas, modeled after the Victorian Santas that are so popular. But hers were standing on a base of sand, garbed in pieces of Mexican cloth, and some palm bark. Slung over his shoulder was a bag of shells.

Mary’s work has evolved into gorgeous wreaths. I am proud to say my small wreaths pictured here are the prototypes of Mary’s ongoing work. She gave them to me for my birthday a few years ago.

These wreaths are wonderful candle rings. They become part of my seasonal dlsplays and centerpieces for dinner parties, and are always where I can see them.

Now when I need a gift, I call Mary.
Her wreaths grace the homes of friends and family all over the US. They are in Denver and Dallas. One large wreath made just for her, was the centerpiece at my sister’s wedding in Amagansett. And there is the all black one. Mary dyed all the shells and turned her fingers black, they stayed that way for weeks. From Minnesota, to Idaho, South Dakota, California and New Jersey, someone I know and love has one of these wreaths. And a few years ago, one of Mary’s shell wreaths went to Paris with Madam Francine Cousteau.
Francine was here to dedicate the Jacques Cousteau memorial at Centro Investigaciones Biologicas del Noroeste (CIBNOR).
And here is the wreath that is always on my dining room table it is really very big abut 12 inches in diameter. Take your time, look closely, and you can see hundreds of different shells, a sea star, and some broken shells with gorgeous shapes. If you would like to know more about Mary’s shells contact here here Mary’s Shells: bigfishes2@aoldotcom

Mary always makes sure there is an orange scallop, and often a piece of sea glass on every wreath.

Birdsong in Baja


What shall I write in my blog today?
I am always talking about the gorgeous view from my terraces, and my office and my bathtub.
I never get tired of the colors and textures, and the ever-changing sea and sky and in winter the colors are pastel in morning, and silvery for part of the day. Very different from the fire-y summer mornings, and hot sun drenched azure sea.
This morning as on many mornings, the sound of gulls and other shore birds squawking woke me, long before dawn. The birds, sea and shore dwellers fly by all night and honk, and squawk. I love the sound.
One particular great blue heron flies right across our terrace and honks, loudly! He has no care that people may be sleeping inside. He loves the updrafts that the shallow X shape or our house create. And I assume that the honk is one of sheer pleasure. Although it does not sound much different from his imperious honk when he is chasing other birds from his feeding grounds…or waters, I should say.

There are some birds whose calls I have dubbed “Jurassic Park” sounds. They sound as if they are huge and calling from deep in a distant jungle. You know the sounds that are background for jungle movies? That’s what some of these birds sound like…and I am charmed.

There are over 60 identified species of birds living in our neighborhood. We are surrounded by a biological preserve. We have a pair of Great Horned Owls. They are huge, and their haunting “hoo-hoo” can be heard throughout the area.

This spring we heard a lovely birdsong that sounded somewhat like a burbling creek. We looked around to see where this sweet warbler was. To our amazement, a plain, scruffy black, bird was singing that perfect song. On the sill outside our eight-foot kitchen window were two of these plain birds.
The male, the one with the voice was strutting and preening for the not-so-interested female.
She would ignore him, and walk to the end of the sill. He would hop in front of her and puff up his chest and sing. She was not interested. She would turn and march to the opposite end. He would fly off and land in front of her and sing his heartbreaking song. This went on for days in front of this window. Showtime was just around our breakfast time, we would hear the first chirps, and drop what we were doing and head to the kitchen window.
Call us voyeurs. But we were also rooting for the little guy, hoping his beloved would accept his attentions. And finally, after many repetitions of the song, the puffing and preening, his lady love succumbed.

More than once I would hear the screeching of what sounded like a bird in distress. I would run out to the terrace with my binoculars, and there would be a baby osprey perched on a dead palm. Some baby, its talons were longer than my fingers, and it’s wingspan over six feet. I asked an ornithologist friend about this, and he said the bird had been pushed from the nest. It was able to fly and deemed ready to go out on its own by its exhausted , yet doting parents. It was screeching for mama or papa to come feed it. Mama and papa were clearly done with child–rearing, but baby was not happy. After an interminable time of pathetic screeching, the parents would fly by and coax the baby down and show it one more time how to hunt. The baby would learn to feed itself or die.
I have never seen a dead osprey on our beach or in the mangrove, so I believe that baby went off to feed, and soar, and mate and train babies of its own.

Soon I will write about “Eddie the Eagle’, that turned out to be a very sick baby osprey that turned up in our patio once many years ago.

Sexy, Exotic, Hawaiian Flower, Showing Off in La Paz Baja California Sur


Do you recognize this gorgeous, exotic bloom?
It is an anthurium, and it actually is native to Central and South America. Wikipedia says nothing about how it got to Hawaii, but that is how I think of it.
And Cecilia, a flight attendant friend of mine says cut anthurium are popular take home gifts for tourists leaving Hawaii. She has seen them specially packaged in small bunches for a lot of money and they are carried right on the plane.
Well, back to my anthurium.
My dear friend Maria gave me the plant for Christmas this past December 2011. It had much smaller leaves and was bursting with many blooms and some tightly rolled buds. I thanked her profusely, and wondered if it would survive my three-week Christmas vacation, with the maid caring for it.
To my surprise, it survived, and flourished. It had pride of place on our kitchen island where it was kissed by morning sun. But it grew so large and full, my beloved asked if I would consider moving it.
I was sure that moving it would mean certain death. But here is another picture showing how shiny and healthy the leaves are
And this is not the first time it has produced buds, here are two making their way out to the sun. It has been in constant bloom since December. It is still in the plastic pot. I am afraid to re-pot it and kill it. It s so healthy and shiny, and happily blooming, that I think I shall keep it right where it is!
One of the nicknames for the anthurium is the “boy plant”. Well it does have a big, yellow, penis, Uh, excuse me, it has a big erect, knobby spadix.

And when the flower starts to die, the red bract turns muddy green and the big, erect, spadix develops yellow bumps and lumps, I call it gonorrhea of the plant world.
I am sure my grandson Patrick aged 11, will just love seeing photos of this guy:

Before this bract withers and dies it will be covered with the yeloow bumps, which get uglier and uglier. The firts time I saw it I thought the plant was diseased! I am going to try to propagate the plant by laying the withered bract with it’s blistered spadix on a nice bed of potting soil. Stay tuned!

The La Paz Multiple Listing Service: A True Story for Sellers to Heed

By Susan Fogel


It happened in La Paz just a few weeks ago, and it is about the Multiple Listing Service (MLS).

I have several nice properties in El Centenario and El Comitan. My colleagues make jokes about how I live in the desert, the boonies, or “way out there”. I invited them to see my properties and they said things like “some day”, “it’s a good idea” or “the next time I’m in your area I’ll make an appointment to see your properties.”

Others said if they had buyers for my properties they would be sure to show them. In other words, no one was going to make the effort to drive a mere 20 minutes even to see beach front and beach community homes, even though beachfront and beachview homes are in high demand even in this depressed market.

So back to the true story. I uploaded one listing to the La Paz MLS and encountered Internet issues. All I had to show was one listing. The next morning my phone rang and a colleague from La Paz said he was looking for an easy care, one-floor home with a pool and a view. And my listing fit the bill.

The agent and client came out within the hour. She liked my house, but wasn’t in love. I suggested that since she was here, she see another listing next door. That house is two stories, is high-maintenance, and has a slightly smaller pool. The would-be buyer walked in and said: “This is it!” I want this house, I love it!” She made a full-price offer that day and the transaction is set to close shortly.

What is my point? The agent said he was looking only on the MLS. He did not have the time to search individual websites, even if he knew whose sites to visit. If my listing had not been on the MLS, he would never have known about it. The MLS allows agents to post as many photos and videos as they want. A buyer’s agent can preview the property and contact the listing agent to get more information. Then she can put together a list of properties and email them to her client. It’s efficient and, because of the strict rules of the MLS, it is accurate. This also means that when homes sell, the prices are listed so that agents will have comparable properties that will support the price of your home to the buyer.

The very next day, I uploaded three more properties. Almost immediately after hitting “submit” I received an email from an agent in Loreto saying that she had sent all of my listings to her client in the USA that is interested in La Paz, El Centenario, and El Comitan.

“How did you get hooked up with a La Paz buyer?” I asked.

“He was searching my IDX pages,” she said.

Sellers, listen up! This is the key. Under the new IDX (Internet Data Exchange) system, buyers can type “La Paz homes for sale” into Google and La Paz real estate sites will pop up. They can click on the name of a page and those that are members of the MLS will have a search function on them that allows Susie Q. Homebuyer to search for homes in La Paz and the surrounding area. Now thousands of buyers back in the USA and Canada  and anywhere in the world, can look at YOUR house long before they book their flight to come to La Paz. They can narrow their search to just a few homes or they can expand out to other areas.

The “Loreto man” was fiddling around, looking at everything on the market, when he found La Paz and decided on our lovely town for his retirement.

And how do you as a seller get to have your house visible 24/7 to the entire world? It’s easy: (1) Contact an agent that is a member of AMPI (Mexican Association of Realtors) and the MLS. (2) Sign an exclusive listing agreement and they will upload your home with photos and a video.

So you will have one agent looking out for your best interests. And you will also have an entire sales force of other AMPI/MLS agents showing your home. Isn’t it a good feeling that your property is in the hands of professionals that subscribe to a high code of ethics and use the latest technology to sell your home?

It’s the Fourth of July; A Video with Danny Glover

Today is Wednesday the 4th of July. I meet three other women every Wednesday at Cafe Exquisito for coffee and conversation. The other three are Canadian. I am American and have lived here in La Paz, Baja California Sur for 12 years. As the years pass, American holidays and their importance fade.

Oh my birthday will always be the most important part of February. Thanksgiving is special to me and we share it with another couple every year.

And Christmas is a lot of fun here in La Paz, we have parties, go to parties, exchange gifts, then head north to be with our kids for the big day.

We were chatting about things in general and when school would be out, since one og u s is young enough to have kids in grade school. At that moment I remembered it was the 4th.

We have no special plans.

And that is OK. America has not lived up to her Constitution in years and these last 4 years with the racism and hate flowing from Congress, and the Tea Party there is very little in the way of celebration in my heart.
I saw this very moving video sent by Moveon.org they lifted it from:The Howard Zinn Facebook page
He is reading the words of a former slave, written 10 years before the Civil War. It is rlevant today especially to blacks, Hispanics, Women and Muslims: