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Moving to Baja? Don’t know how to move your household goods across the border? Maybe my story can help you. Our 46' trailer, with 26' of stuff in it had been sitting in storage in San Diego since June, waiting for us to complete the demolition and re-construction of our little villa in Calafia. We were not really ready to bring it here, but we had to do it because you have six months from the date your FM3 is issued, and mine was issued on Feb. 22. So on Aug. 22 my coach was due to turn back into a pumpkin, and the move had to be made, ready or not. I've gotten used to living without furniture, clothes, and household things over the months since I arrived in April, but I don't think I could live another six months without a chair to sit on or a table to eat at. I got used to the air bed, but was still longing for a real mattress. Besides, summer is almost over, and all my pretty linen pants and embroidered skirts, and fancy sandals were still on that truck! Now I have only two weeks to reconnect with it all. I figure if I change clothes at least five times a day between now and Labor Day, everything will get worn for at least a few minutes. Since I'm new to West Coast weather, I don't know if everyone changes their wardrobe after Labor Day. The process for a household move is to make a detailed list of every item in every box (every box numbered) and every piece of furniture. This list is your “Menaje de Casa” and you had better get it all right. I had packed carefully, but I had not understood that customs does NOT want to see anything new on the truck. Not knowing this, I had purchased some things for the house because I knew even last fall that I wanted a different kind of house from the one I left in VA. So there were boxes with new linens, pillows, tableware and lamps somewhere in the 26’ of space on our trailer. When he learned this, the mover told me to make a list of every box that might hold something with a price tag, then to pull out all those boxes, open them and remove the items. Because Mexican customs is concerned that people are going to bring in things to sell, they are very picky about electronics. Every electronic, and that includes not just TVs and DVDs, but also your paper shredder (Hey! I lived and worked in Washington, DC.) ice cream machine and kitchen mixer, must be listed with its make, model and serial numbers. I had foolishly followed the directions on the web site of the Embassy in Washington, which told me that I just needed to list the item and its serial number. Since our list was incomplete, our mover insisted we pull all that stuff off the truck, put it into the storage unit, and bring it separately later. That means we’re still entertaining ourselves with the 12" TV our neighbors lent me last April. We have been very grateful to have it, but I swear, some phones have larger screens... The mover advised us that there are two ways to make your list. The most difficult is to number every box and have a list of what is in each box, as in, box 29, books, box 111 clothes and shoes, etc. The difficulty with that is no matter how careful you might be, mistakes do happen, and if boxes are opened, and don't contain what the list says, you may then have to unpack every box. You REALLY don't want to do this. But, you should prepare a list this way, just in case. The other way to submit your list is to list all the furniture first, and then write "289 boxes containing..." and then list categories. The mover advised me to first present this simpler list to customs and hope they would accept it. If not, then you have the detailed list available as backup. So, you make your list, and take it to the consulate in San Diego, and pay them. I was delighted that they accepted the simpler list for us. They are supposed to return it to you that afternoon, but when I went, in August, they said, “Come back tomorrow.” “No,” I protested, “we need it back today.” “Too bad,” said the lady behind the window. “People are on vacation and Mexicans come first!” Well, you can’t argue with that can you? So the next day I returned while the guys were packing the truck and picked up my list, with its official stamp. We started unloading the trailer and loading the truck at 8 am and finished at 1pm. The truck took off for the border. We ran some errands (Read: got more cash from the bank), and headed off after it. We arrived first. Then we waited. And waited some more. The truck went through at 3 pm. We were praying for the green light, which means "go ahead". But it seems they almost always stop trucks with household goods, so we got the red light. (Damn!) The truck had to wait in another line to get a place at the dock. The truck then has to be mostly unloaded for inspection. The mover told us that the broker would have to be paid $150 to unload and reload the truck. This in a country where many laborers make $20 a day. I probably would have paid it, but Steve was getting tired of being jacked every time we turn around, so he told the mover we were NOT going to put any money in anyone's hands. If we had to pay any money, we were going to pay it over at the official window, and only there. At this, his eyes got big and he stammered that he would go "see what I can do". When he returned, he said that he had some men who would unload and reload for...any guesses? Anyone? Thirty dollars! It really bothered us that we paid $1400 to the mover and they still tried to get more. Two men unloaded about half of the truck contents. Boxes and furniture lay out on the dock while we waited for an inspector. Eventually, a woman in her 30s came by, took a look, told them to open some boxes so she could check them and walked off. I was impressed that women were working in this very male environment, in a country famous for its "machismo" culture. Good for them! The men opened some boxes, and we waited some more. The inspector returned and went to the first box (the FIRST box!) and pulled back the flaps. Inside was a silk lampshade with the price tag dangling from the edge. Oh Lord, how did THAT happen? I couldn't believe it. She looked up at me and I hustled over. "Is this new?" she asked. Unfortunately, I’m a terrible liar. Really terrible. So, I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "No, it's not new". She looked puzzled and asked, "Then why is the price tag on it?" a perfectly reasonable question. I replied, "We keep the tags on because we move them from room to room". Now you are scratching your head and saying "huh?" which is exactly the right response to my statement. It made no sense. The inspector looked baffled. Steve looked baffled. I felt embarrassed. But the inspector moved on to the next box. I guess she thought this was some inexplicable gringa habit. Next the inspector walked into the truck while we waited out on the dock. Because there are boxes packed to the ceiling, and they can't pull out the ones in the middle or on the bottom, they use a knife to cut into the sides of the boxes and pull down the cardboard to see what's inside. The inspector and her two assistants pulled down the flap on one of them and peered inside. Then she turned and gave me a very strange look. I thought, "Oh Lord, what have they found?” Please understand that we were not bringing in anything illegal. But with bureaucrats things can go very wrong very fast. (Remember, I am from Washington DC.) So I was really worried. After a few more inspections they exited the truck. We were pacing nervously on the dock while trying to appear serenely confident. The inspector came over. "Nice photo." "Thanks," I said, "Which one?" I had no idea what she was talking about. "The one with Bill Clinton," she said. Can you believe it? They cut open a box that happened to have photos, and there smiling out at them was President Clinton, with me sitting next to him at dinner, at our Georgetown class reunion at the White House. Bill saved the day! Now we had to reload the truck, which took another two hours. At about 7 pm the mover called to say it was getting late; the truck would spend the night in Tijuana and come to us in Calafia the next morning. I said, “Nothing doing!” We’d never discussed leaving the truck anywhere. Yes, we understood that it was late, but the truck should be driven to Calafia to spend the night in front of the villa! They could return in the morning to unload it. The mover grudgingly agreed, but that is not what happened. As the truck finally left the dock at 8:45, he called to say that unfortunately the headlights didn’t work, and the truck wasn’t safe to drive. They’d have to leave it in Tijuana overnight. I’ve heard that there are some nice parts of Tijuana, but most of it that I have seen is shabby and scary. It is a HUGE city, and incredibly confusing. I was unhappy, and let him know there was no way my entire household belongings were going to spend the night in the driver's neighborhood in TJ. He was irritated and explained that the truck would not be parked in the driver’s neighborhood. It would be stored in a secure parking lot. So, we followed the truck over to the lot to see where it would be. I'm sure it's just a coincidence that the headlights came on at a place where the driver needed to see the road ahead, and then went out again. Just a coincidence... We got home at 11pm and fell into bed. The next morning the truck arrived, and the movers unloaded everything. Oh, the piles of stuff! Boxes to the ceiling in every room, the hallway, and the garage. We have little lanes to walk through, but that's all. There are so many boxes, and the house is so small. God knows where everything will go. I have already opened a few boxes to find things that are definitely destined for eBay. Let some other woman get excited about building a collection of Ferragamo scarves. I am determined to have a simpler life. It’s hard to believe I gave away or sold so much in VA, and still have so much that came all the way to Baja. I was well advised last year about what to bring and what not to bring. But no matter how ruthless you think you are being during the packing, it is not enough. Life here is different, and you want your environment to reflect that. Why bring boxes of stuff you (or someone) will have to dust all the time, or that you will end up storing. A move like this is a wonderful opportunity to simplify and lighten your life. Now here it all sits because we were not really ready for it. The kitchen is unfinished. My bathroom is unfinished, (by “unfinished” I mean no tub, no toilet, and no sink.) So we can't unpack into those rooms. Oh, and the 6' whirlpool tub is sitting next to my bed waiting for plumbing. My mattress is set up on a base of book boxes - but at least I have a real mattress for the first time in 5 months. My closet is full of boxes, so we can't unpack my clothes. And there are lots and lots of clothes! The cabinetmaker is due to install the bottom kitchen cabinets shortly; then we can begin to make some progress. We can put things away before the countertops and walls are done. We can finish the doors later. Emptying some boxes will open up room to work on others. But, I just wonder why it is that I can put my hand immediately on the box with Steve's dinner jacket, but the one with my Tee shirts is nowhere to be found... Numbers and lists don't help when boxes are unloaded and stacked up randomly. I had not moved in 30 years, and did not think to instruct the movers to stack all the boxes so that the numbers show. With numbers we can refer to our list to find things. But boxes piled up to the ceiling with no numbers showing are just a mystery - for now. Our eventual unpacking will be wonderful. Like Christmas! A lot of this stuff we packed last August. I hardly even remember what I own. Most people who move to Baja are moving into a completed house or condo, and would not face the challenges we face. If you are not under construction, your boxes will arrive and you can unpack easily. We have it extra difficult because of our many projects in this small house. And when the stress level goes way up, we just walk outside to our patio and look at the beautiful ocean, the sky and the palm trees, and remember why we came here. We wanted the adventure of living in another country, and, so far, that is just what we got. Melinda Bates, a native of Washington, DC, served as Special Assistant to the President and Director of the White House Visitors Office for President Bill Clinton. She is the first person in history to hold that post for all eight years of an administration. She is writing a book about her White House experiences. She can be reached at: melindabates@bajawireless.net |