Ruiz Mazatlan Adventure

Someone slapped a sticker on a steel box right outside of Colegio Rex, Andre’s school. I know the basics of Spanish vocabulary now but even though, I had to ask Rick several times what Bien Raices meant, it would not stick. I read it every day and every day I asked myself over and over what the hell does that mean. It means good roots. I have seen it on other signs around Mazatlán and have come to learn it’s a construction development company name.

“Me first” My interpretation of the driving style in Mazatlán Mexico

I started this blog counting the number of days we have been away from the United States, as well as the numberof days I have lived here in Mazatlán. We have been here for 8 months (33 weeks or 230 days). It seems silly to start my posts with its day 230 at this point.

Our family relocated to Mazatlán, Mexico in February of this year (2025). This is my first time living outside the United States. I had been to Mexico a handful of times before our move and although I paid close attention to the way of life here as a visitor, I can’t help but to realize the remarkable differences and some parallels to the US when you live here as a resident. 

We all know the ebb and flow of life. The highs and the lows. The waves of stress coming at us and the lull before another one hits.

This month flew by. We were eagerly awaiting June 2nd for months. My dual citizen husband has not been able to get a bank account, or a loan or a credit card without his INE card. The only way to obtain that is when voter registration opens to the public. We arrived just days before it closed because of the election on June 1, 2025. It seemed like all of our goals have been hinged on getting this INE card so in a few days we hope to rocket forward.

Molly, our 21-year-old is graduating from Elon University in North Carolina on Friday May 23rd. A much anticipated and planned for trip back to the United States. Flight leaves Mazatlán at 6:22 AM. We wake at 3:30 AM and leave for the airport by 4 AM with Augustine our new friend we met at our apartment complex. He makes money by taking people to and from the airport in his minivan but this morning he decides to go in our car (AKA piece of shit) because we only have one bag, and he had car issues earlier this week. We are 20 minutes into our highway voyage when I ask Rick (who was driving) if the car is accelerating properly. He was busy talking to Augustine and not paying attention that his speed was dropping rapidly.

hings that I will miss not being in MD:

I was reminded of a couple of things about myself during my trip back to the United States. The first thing I learned (or perhaps I knew but took for granted and forgot) was that I am happy. I learned at a young age (probably 20) that happiness comes from within. It is NOT a man’s job to ensure my happiness, and it isn’t the job of friends or even a fulfilling career. It is the internal perspective that drives your happiness. My location is not a reason to be happy/unhappy. I am happy here in Mazatlán. I was happy in the United States. I am happy wherever I am because I take myself with me wherever I go, and I am comfortable in my own skin. This is not to say that there is an energy within us that aligns (or not) with our environment. And if ignored can be awful for humans. I believe that my husband cannot live in an environment that is cloudy, cold and very little sun. He would fall into a depression. Iceland is cold, rainy, windy and cloudy A LOT. My soul on the other hand, thrived there. 

We came back to the US for two weeks. We used our son’s two-week spring break to return to our home here in Maryland. We have 4 more days until we return to Mazatlán and my husband, and I have already started talking about what we have missed in Mexico over the last 10 days.

We are 3 days from returning back to the United States for 2 weeks. Up until today I was bursting inside with excitement. I could not wait to sleep in our bed, sit in our hot tub, drive my car, see our friends, see my mom and my girls…I could not wait to breathe the cold morning air and go through my belongings.

I am married to a man who spent most of his childhood in Mexico City. He is fluent in Spanish and has a love for the culture and food here. I met him almost 15 years ago in Annapolis MD and we have been together since. He is a meat eater. He is a meat and potatoes kinda guy. He will almost always prefer a meat dish on the menu when we go out and when I ask him what he wants for dinner it is one meat dish or the other.

In continuation from the last blog, last paragraph I would like to point out an observation of my own biases and feelings.

In our transition to our new life here, my husband and I are in constant conversation of comparisons with the United States. Everything is “you would never see that happen in MD, or the price for that was so cheap in comparison to the United States”. While all that is true, it is so nice to have fresh eyes and appreciation of where you are in the moment. Most is all positive. Happy to be here rather than there (especially under our circumstances), but there are a few things that require a little ‘adjustment’.

It has been 60 days since we have been here in Mazatlán. We have had our share of challenges in becoming normal functioning residents. It took almost 2 months to get our driver’s license and although we didn’t need to test or prove our road skills (which would be hilarious in my opinion) it still required paperwork and proof we live here. It wasn’t until we decided we would look to purchase a car did the sales guy at the dealership say “you need a driver’s license from Mexico, but don’t worry, I have a guy” turns out that guy got us fast-tracked and an hour later we were holding our licenses. I have a motorcycle license (which I will NEVER need here) as well as my automobile license. Rick has all three, truck, car and motorcycle.

I realized today that I look like a typical American. Most people look at me and speak broken English. Once Rick starts talking, they exclusively look and talk directly to him. I then listen intently and slowly get further from where the conversation started. Like lost in a tunnel searching for the light. Imagine their surprise when I become fluent, and they are focused on the Mexican man standing next to me…

Our personal and business bankruptcies gave me the opportunity to self-flog. Not only did I weep and mourn the loss of everything I knew. I found a way to internally self-flog. Blame myself for failing. Punish myself for the shame associated with complete failure. Turns out my father and his wife didn’t have to hang us in the center square for all to take hits, I was doing in on my own.

After being here for 33 days I have realized a few pretty significant things about relocating to a new country. No one I know has ever done this but my husband, so I figured it would be worth it to mention what I am learning about myself in this transition.

In the short 32 days here in a new country with a language I was barely familiar with, I found that listening and trying to understand Spanish is exhausting. Literally. I discovered I have a shut off point of 3 hours. I am 100% surrounded by Spanish. I am reading (trying to read) and I am listening and barely putting two words together to get my point across. I think the only difference is that I have always wanted to be bi-lingual. I cannot wait to be able to speak and understand Spanish like a local. I depend on my bi-lingual husband begrudgingly.

I had this great idea to start a blog of my relocation to Mazatlán Mexico. I needed a place to put my thoughts and feelings and an outlet for my journey. Good, bad or mediocre I am going to write until I don’t feel like it’s necessary anymore.