Mis Tres Amigos By Margie Harrell
A
s I leisurely strolled the colorful side-streets and paths of Chapala the village seemed unusually quiet with very little activity in the plaza. Then I remembered, it was siesta time. Between 2:00pm and 4:00pm every afternoon Mexico closes it’s gates to all business. As I enjoyed this peaceful day on the shores of Lake Chapala, my decision to retire in Mexico was beginning to feel like the perfect choice. Calm and contented I continued on my way. I had business in town and must get to it. It was here that I stumbled upon the first of my three amigos. My first stop was at the office of the realtor who handled the paperwork vis- a- vis my home in California. The arrangement was, all expenses incurred by the renter (me) were to be paid by the realtor (them) and I was required to go to their office once a month and settle up accounts. I am sure this honor system has changed many times over the years but I was fortunate to live in Mexico at a time when life was still fairly easy and simple. I recall a time when I was having my auto repaired and when it came time to pay I asked how much and his answer was quite a surprise. He replied “You drive two, three days, you like, you come back and pay me.” True story—Such innocence and trust. The Chapala Realty office is located in a century old two storied house in the heart of town, one block from the only traffic light for miles. The location was ideal at a time when the lake was clean and fresh with no dreaded lirio the hyacinth flower plant that seemed to grow overnight. It was possible at that time to swim and fish right from your front door. I hadn’t noticed the man sitting on an old chair on the porch but I immediately made a snap decision, a habit of mine, on who he must be. It was hot, everything was closed, so he had decided this would make a perfect spot to spend a couple of hours and cool off. I said nothing to him as he dozed in the shade.
La señora who answered my persistent knocking said she was not authorized to take pesos and please, could I come back after 4.00pm. Just then the stranger spoke. “I can take care of that for you” he said. He startled me at first but his outstretched hand soon held all my pesos. Why did I give him my money, I didn’t even know this man? With no receipt, no name to trace him later and worst of all—I liked him, I headed for the stairs. As I scurried off the porch steps he disappeared into the office—When I questioned further as to who this stranger might be the reply was. “OH, that’s Richard Tingen —he’s the owner of Chapala Realty and other local businesses. Richard Tingen, I must remember that name I thought—and I did. Technically Mr. Tingen was my boss when I wrote monthly articles for the Ojo Del Lago—As I headed back to my casa my thoughts were racing. This was definitely going to be a learning experience living in Mexico—not for Mexico, they already knew the secret of a long life—keep it simple and don’t sweat the small stuff. It was I who was the student and Mexico had much to teach me. Although we didn’t have a lot of face to face meetings over the years I always felt Richard was keeping an eye on my work. Periodically the editor would tell me that “the Boss” enjoyed my article in the Ojo that month”. And I thought he was just a vagabond traveling the warm spots for the season. My spies tell me he has found his permanent spot-in-the-sun in Puerto Vallarta high on a hilltop where he can observe the world but they can’t always see him. Just like the day we met in Chapala many moons ago. When I first met David Tingen I recall how young and eager he was, ready for whatever the world had to teach him. His family was growing and he was full of enthusiasm to work when he was offered the position of publisher at the Ojo Del Lago. His Dad would be stepping aside somewhat Continued on page 46
44
El Ojo del Lago / August 2021
