As the granddaughter of a former Chief of the US-Mexico Border, the story of why my husband, our 8-year old-twins and I decided to immigrate to Mexico in 2012 from the States is one that I am compelled to tell. 

Burnt out on the consumerist, rat-race grind of life in Southern California, we left San Diego with nothing but a car and trailer full of our “essential belongings” after having sold, donated, gifted and tossed the rest. 

Our remaining earthly treasures included every lego known to mankind, our twins’ organic mattresses, a large-screened tv and the bicycles you can see hanging off the back of our boat! Our 95-pound chocolate lab Seamus rode in the back seat right behind Frank, panting and slobbering in excitement on the entire 4-day drive down!

A sight to see we were, something like a scene from the sitcom The Beverly Hillbillies! 

Roots, Us-Mexico Border 

Growing up a half an hour away from the San Diego-Tijuana Border gifted me with a bilingual-bicultural upbringing and an ability to move easily between both worlds. Communicating in both Spanish and English at school, work and play has always been my norm since I was a very little girl.

I have always had a profound love and respect for Mexico–for her people, her magic and her fervent sense of community. I value and treasure the freedom and safety I feel immersed in Mexico’s rich culture. 

With my parents working outside of the home in their careers as Psychologist and School Teacher, MariaElena (our co-CEO of the family) was a blessing of a second mother to me. She cared for me as if I was her own until the age of five when my parent’s painful yet necessary parting of ways took us away from each other.

It was with MarieElena, that the template of my life was established–a life destined to be immersed in Mexico with her people. Crossing the border as a teenager in the 80’s to go clubbing in Tijuana or to head further down south to Puerto Nuevo for lobster and off-roading in the sand dunes formed a huge part of the tapestry of my youth.

Later in life, my husband Frank and I would come to lease a 30 by 60 piece of sand in Bahia de Los Angeles where our twins Mairead and Liam spent many a barefoot vacation enjoying freedom and discovery to their heart’s content. 

“Big Joe”, Former Chief of US-Mexico Border

Dressed in his signature crisp-collared Oxford shirt, ironed slacks and shiny leather shoes no matter the occasion, my “Big Joe” as we affectionately referred to him, was a thoughtful, bright, witty gentleman with no time or concern for nonsense. His words were concise and powerful, leaving an echo in the rooms in which they were spoken. 

My relationship and time spent with my Grandfather was one of the most significant influences in my life and my love for and connection to Mexico. 

He modeled such a deep respect and brotherhood for our south of the border neighbors, that I too could not help but fall in love with a land and a people so magnificently rich in corazón y alma (heart and soul).

Sitting in his living room overlooking Mission Bay, he would speak to me of his many adventures, of his life on our family’s dairy farm in Chula Vista, of the beautiful horses in his care, and how at the age of 14 he left his home to become a cowboy on the last ranch that spanned the US-American border. 

Family historians share with me that he was considered the “Paul Revere of Chula Vista” by warning the Otay Valley on horseback of impending rain that ultimately ended up bursting the Sweetwater Dam.

I would listen in awe, taking mental notes of these sacred conversations, knowing that I was bearing witness to a living history book. 

My Grandpa Joe was as tough as nails and lived his life to the fullest until the age of 94.

A Living History Book

We would drive down to Rosarito Beach on weekends for an early dinner at El Nido and I would marvel with pride and joy at my Grandfather’s ability to conduct himself so eloquently in both Spanish and English. Sitting in front of the open, wood-fired oven where quail, whole potatoes and lobster tails would cook, my Grandpa turned the ordinary into magic.

His affinity for conversation, his charisma, thoughtful ways and sharp sense of humor attracted people to him. It felt good to be in his company and I was just lucky enough to be his granddaughter. 

Although my Grandfather passed when I was 18 and before I began my teaching career, I know that he would have been so very proud that I had chosen to go into a line of work that shares the beauty of the  language and the culture of Mexico with the youth of today. 

Life in Mexico

I thank my beloved Grandfather for setting the bar high, for leading by example and showing me a love and respect for Mexico that is forever imprinted in my heart and has forever changed the trajectory of my and my own children’s lives.

Life in Mexico WAKES you up from whatever slumber you might have previously found yourself in, RESETS your outlook and REMINDS you that true, mindful, engaged living results from paying attention and participating in a life of design.

Mi Querido México, thank you for taking my family in, for welcoming us with open arms. These past twelve years have been one heck of an adventure and we are better people for it. 

!Qué Viva México!

~Katie 

Looking for an excellent read on US-Mexico Border Relations? Vanishing Frontiers: The Forces Driving Mexico and The United States Together

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*Protect yourself and your loved ones with Carbon Monoxide Detectors for both home and travel*

Each of the times I have flown with my sweet Luna Love–my buddy and indeed my emotional companion–from Mexico to the States and back during our 12 years as permanent residents of Mexico, it was always with Volaris.

The convenience of crossing the Tijuana/San Diego CBX footbridge to ultimately make my way to my family’s home in La Jolla, made Volaris an easy choice–that and the ease of their policy on flying with an emotional support dog. 

Being able to have my Luna Love in cabin, on my lap (with leash and harness on), and not in a carrier under the seat in front of me is an allowance that I do not take for granted nor advantage of. The fact that Luna is an excellent traveler makes the process even that much more possible. Luna and I have this flying together thing down to a science and it has just became a normal part of my travel plans, because, wherever I go, Luna goes. 

When Frank and I decided to travel to South America (beginning our adventure in Argentina), we needed to determine which airline could best accommodate our needs based on flight route (for example a short layover in Mexico City vs. an overnight in Colombia), if our luggage would be checked all the way through to our final destination of Buenos Aires, price, and the most important detail–which airline would allow me to fly with Luna in cabin as my emotional companion.

We ultimately decided on Aeroméxico for all of the aforementioned considerations for our flight from Puerto Vallarta (with a short layover in Mexico City) to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Traveling by plane, let alone to an entirely new continent, is involved enough, I’m sure we could all agree to. Add to that making the necessary accommodations (now with a new and unfamiliar airline)– being sure to follow each and every one of not just Aeromexico’s protocols but also, Mexico’s SENASICA and Argentina’s SENASA to a T for traveling with Luna–required its fair share of research, steps, and yes, a bit of stress…but ultimately all worth it! 

In the month leading up to our July 21st departure from Mexico, I literally spent hundreds of hours researching, reading, printing out documents, taking notes, underlining, highlighting, and then taking notes of my notes–keeping nothing short of a minimum of 15 tabs open on my laptop at any given time–communicating directly with our Puerto Vallarta vet, SENASICA in Mexico and SENASA in Argentina (all of whom were incredibly responsive, helpful and cordial–mil gracias, mil gracias!)

If you too are considering a similar adventure–that of traveling from Mexico to Buenos Aires, Argentina with your emotional support pup–I hope the information and links in this article are of help to you! 

If you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the comment section below and I will get back to you pronto!

Ciao,

Katie 

P.S. Tomorrow marks almost two months since we arrived Argentina. We are loving our time in Buenos Aires, have been walking, discovering, eating, learning a new Spanish, meeting incredible people, and well, having a fabulous time in this new chapter of our lives. Frank and I invite you to follow along here on Los O’Gradys in South America as well as our Facebook page.

While we consider ourselves to be fairly seasoned and informed travelers, never once did we think that packing a carbon monoxide detector was an essential and life-saving item until tragedy struck and my husband was severely poisoned by carbon monoxide at a hotel in Lake Chapala, Mexico in 2017.

After dropping our children off at their much-anticipated 6th grade camp outside of Guadalajara, Frank and I set out to enjoy our weekend together, knowing that our twins would be in the good hands and company of their camp counselors and classmates and that we would enjoy some time together.

But instead of spending our weekend sightseeing and relaxing, we spent it fighting for Frank’s life at both an ER and a Hyperbaric Chamber Facility in downtown Guadalajara. 

Confirmation of Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

After working at his computer for several hours next to an open window in our hotel room, Frank was overcome by severe visual disturbances, full-body weakness, confusion, headache, difficulty speaking, extreme nausea and a ghost-like, white color to his skin.

Confirmation by the hotel management itself that two carbon monoxide leaks had been found in the hot water heater just outside our bedroom window–together with all of Frank’s symptoms, hospital diagnostics and treatment–verified that carbon monoxide poisoning was in fact the cause of his alarming symptoms.

Do mistakes and bad things happen? Absolutely.

So does gross negligence.

A simple and affordable installation of a CO detector would have easily prevented this tragedy, not to mention the proper checks and maintenance of the hot water heater by the hotel management and owners themselves–who, as an important aside–both buried their heads in the sand, denying and deflecting any negligence and responsibility. The owner went so far as to state on social media that it was “something else” that nearly killed my husband. Disgusting, much? 

Shameful, careless, and deadly, to say the least. 

Only removal from the carbon monoxide itself, oxygen therapy in the ER, and back-to-back hyperbaric chamber treatments in a private clinic (that we had to wait until the next day to get into) would save Frank’s life.

Friends of ours from Puerto Vallarta showed up at the ER to help us in any way they could and I will forever ever be grateful for their loving kindness in one of the scariest and darkest times of our lives.

As a result of this terrifying experience, where my husband’s life was spared (not all are), we now ALWAYS travel with carbon monoxide detectors in addition to outfitting our home with them. We have CO alarms in each of our bedrooms and next to any gas-fueled appliances–i.e. the stove, clothes dryer and hot water heater. This is one area where redundancy or back ups is not overkill.

Even if your hot water heater is outside the house, it is essential to have at least one CO monitor in close proximity to where it is located, as well as check both periodically for proper functioning. 

Please protect yourself and your loved ones with CO alarms for both home and travel safety.

Carbon monoxide is odorless, and cannot be seen or heard.

The first sign of poisoning is severe illness, or worse, death.

Symptoms of Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

If one is suddenly overcome with nausea, headache, vision disturbances, confusion and other mind-boggling symptoms, consider a CO exposure and get OUT of the room/building ASAP (and to a medical facility) until authorities can perform necessary tests, repairs and assure that the area is safe to return to.

Don’t rely on the hotel, vacation rental, Airbnb or even a loved one’s home where you might be visiting to have done the proper and required maintenance checks of all gas-fueled appliances. It is vital to also consider possible exposures by neighboring structures.

Simply bring your own CO monitorS for your and your loved one’s safety and peace of mind.

*Carbon monoxide is silent, odorless and tasteless*

I hope this information saves just one life. Please share it with your friends, family, workplace and community. 

Get your CO monitors today and make sure to follow the manufacturer’s guidelines for battery replacement and equipment checks.

With gratitude for this one precious life,

~Katie O’Grady

#carbonmonoxide #carbonmonoxideawareness #carbonmonoxidealarm #carbonMonoxideSafety #carbonmonoxidedetector #carbonmonoxidepoisoning #home #travel #camping #collegedorm #classrooms #sciencerooms #hotels #airbnbs #cruiseships #boating #jetskis #sleepovers #summercamp #garagesafety #workshopsafety #youthhostel #familyvisits #holidaygatherings #motel #motorhome #trailer #playdates #schools #universities

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The view from our kitchen window allowed me to see the world pass by in the small town of San Pancho, Nayarit—a kaleidoscope of sensory stimulus throughout our first year in mainland Mexico.

We lived one lot back from the main street, Avenida Tercer Mundo. The overgrown green would bring the pueblo’s burros and horses—always willing to help out with weed control—right to the front of our kitchen window.

The town soccer field on the other side of the street provided its own myriad of entertainment, ranging from weekend soccer games—especially interesting on Sundays—and the daily activity of kids on their bikes, dogs, and families passing through.

On the terra-cotta colored planter edge closest to our side of the street, there was a consistent gathering of what I came to understand to be regulars, but once thought to be wanderers– “suspicious ones”.

And perhaps they were just that–wanderers–but it was here, on this makeshift bench, that they found their resting spot for the day, to sit on all day long…to look around, sit some more, talk, not talk, watch the world go by themselves, stand up, turn around, go out into the middle of the street, turn around again, only to come back and sit back down on the very ledge of the planter box that called to them early in the morning.

Back in the States, most people—or at least those conditioned to life in the overcrowded, chaotic, heavily-sanctioned and regulated city—would have deemed this “suspicious behavior” and likely called the police—or at least locked the doors, closed the blinds and peeked out from behind the perceived safety of their four walls until such “suspicious people” with their “suspicious activity” left the area.

Our first year in Mexico came to show me–allowed and encouraged me to see–similar to the post I wrote titled Vecinos–that sitting and engaging in conversation and taking the day as it unrolls and reveals itself is just part of the natural rhythm and ebb and flow of life in a small town with community, life and her nuances all braided together.

In the States, in Southern California, our lives are so different, much more agendized, time more accounted for with “productive”, “purposeful” and “meaningful” activity—with outward and tangible signs of accomplishment and success…with little down time and minimal contact with Mother Nature; of working, working, working to support ourselves in a unsustainable system.

Here, in our first mainland Mexico home, we learned to slow down, to breathe, to observe and to take it all in. We learned by example and by practice to stop for conversation—eye-to-eye, present conversation–where there is an exchange of speaking and listening, of giving and receiving…of unabridged communication.

At the one-year mark of living full time in Mexico, the valuable life lessons were plain to see: we learned to slow down, to enjoy the moment, to feel and to listen, to redefine what is truly important.

I am happy to report that individuals once seen as “suspicious ones” contributed to a radical shift in my life perspective.

They were not only a fundamental part of the dynamic backdrop that made up daily life in a magical little pueblo like San Pancho, but their presence and lessons greatly improved and broadened my life quality and evolution. These “suspicious wanderers” became my acquaintances, my neighbors, my friends, an integral part of the collection of life teachers on this ever-winding path of discovery.

Gracias, mi querido México, como te quiero. ❤️

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