My Life in Mexico: Kindergarten--With Wrinkles

You Get Older but Somehow It Still Seems Like Being in Kindergarten

We’re all getting older, dear readers. It sucks, but it’s better than the alternative. We’re also supposed to be getting wiser, but it’s not happening to me.

What about you?

Do you ever feel like you are back in kindergarten, but this time, with wrinkles? I have a theory that life is like kindergarten.

We all keep ending up stuck behind tiny little desks, again.

Now, I’m 67. I’m in kindergarten down in Mexico, where they speak Spanish. I don’t know how to sing the ABC song yet. That funny-looking N trips me up.

---

Being back in kindergarten is what happens when we find ourselves in a new situation. Like when you start a new job. You don’t know how the copier works. Or who makes the coffee? Or whether it’s safe to leave your lunch in the fridge.

For four years, since I got into van life, it’s been kindergarten all over again. Except there’s no teacher, no rules, and no one to keep the other kids in line.

This could end badly…

Wherever I go, I am always the new kid. I never know anybody; no one knows me... It puts me in a new-kid-in-kindergarten position, trying to make friends.

---

Four years ago, I got a campervan and a dog and ran away from home.

Initially, I was just going to try to visit the lower 48 states in six months. Then, I got hooked on van life and turned into a nomad. I didn’t want a home anymore.

At first, we were on the road year-round. After a year, I got tired of driving, so we started taking breaks. We spent a summer in Asheville, North Carolina, before the flood, and spent winter in Mexico, in a little fishing village called Kino Bay.

It was back to kindergarten, but with wrinkles. Everyone there was even older than me. At Kino Bay kindergarten, some kids were nice, and some kids were weird.

Like when we were little, there were naughty kids to avoid. The ones who got sent to the principal’s office every day, who laughed sadistically when kids got paddled.

Remember those kids?

Did you ever wonder how those kids turned out? I know.

They graduated from kindergarten to join a life of crime at age seven, and before long, they became felons. And now they’re hiding in Mexico. More on that later.

In my first year of kindergarten in Mexico, I sorted the expats living in the RV park into four groups: The friendly old farts, freeloaders, free birds, and fugitives.

---

The friendly old farts were in their 70s and 80s, nice folks, other than the flatulence. If I smiled at them, they’d smile back, dentures on display.

The freeloaders wintered in Mexico because it was cheap and warm; they spent their time pinching pennies from heaven.

The free birds were anti-establishment rule breakers and anti-vaxxers who ran away during COVID to avoid the vaccine. They wore clothes to avoid sunburn.

I saw the same groups in La Paz, Baja California, during the following winter.

---

Don’t freak out about the felons. They don’t bother anyone.

They were frivolous felons, not murderers or rapists. One guy was a pilot who flew drugs into the US. One ran away from grand theft auto charges.

I’m not scared of them, but I’m not going to say who they are or where I met them. Like in kindergarten, stay away from bullies. Don’t let them catch you.

---

So, old age is like kindergarten, but everyone is getting cranky.

It’s April 2026. I moved to Patzcuaro, a lovely town of about 100,000 people, high up in the mountains. It’s reported to have an expat community, if I can find it.

Because my Spanish is rudimentary, it’s hard to make friends with Mexicans. I run out of things to say after Hello, and How are you? I get tired of smiling and pretending to understand when I have no idea what they’re saying.

Then they expect me to speak!

Now, it’s recess.

I’m out on the playground trying to make friends. I went to the expat guys’ brunch at the cafe on the main square in El Centro. Six old guys, including me.

As the youngest guy at the table, I remembered their names. They said, “Wow!”

The first time we met was like snack time in kindergarten. “Quiet children!” We ate our eggs quietly, then we got a gold star, paid our bills, and left after an hour.

---

But my big news is I finally got a place. My Mom, bless her soul, looked down on me, smiled, and said,

“Sonny, it’s time for you to find a place and live on your own.”

“But Mom, I’m still in kindergarten. Geez, I’m only six… uh, I mean … 67!”

I got a little casita. For the first time in four years, I offloaded the campervan. I dreaded doing it, for fear of finding …a live animal … or maybe a dead body.

(I threw the bit about the dead body in the last sentence just to see if you were paying attention.)

I am happy to report that I found nothing untoward, either dead or alive. The most alarming thing I found was a thick mat of dog hair in every crevice.

---

It was nice to move my things into my own place. I like sleeping each night in an actual bed, instead of on a two-and-a-half-foot-wide platform with only about 18 inches of headroom.

Living indoors again takes some getting used to. I’ve been outside for the last four years. Four walls and a roof block my view of the trees, sky, sun, and stars. It’s a challenge.

For one thing, I get antsy when the front door is closed. The way I used to get squirmy in kindergarten was if the teacher made us sit still too long.

Now, I keep the door open all day, and only close it when it’s time to go to bed.

With the door and windows open, I can breathe. As for my dog, Mr. Bones, he leaps on the big, comfortable bed, lies next to me, and snuggles up. I like that.

Except when he snores, which he does a lot.

Wish me well in kindergarten, living on my own, adjusting to staying put. Next time we talk, I may have learned my ABCs and a sentence or two in Spanish.

AFTERWORD

Are we ever done being the new kid in kindergarten?

Do we ever actually learn the rules—and obey them even when no one is looking?

Subscribe? Free or Paid? Buy Me Coffee?

If this resonates, please subscribe. For free! No pressure.

If you want the inside scoop and complete access, you can pay to subscribe.

If you prefer, go to Buy Me A Coffee and make a one-time $5 gift. Keep a tired old man caffeinated: https://buymeacoffee.com/carlcamembert

---