Our Bags Are Packed... But Still a Few Hiccups

Randy and I have very different packing styles. We’ve know this since about day 3 of walking the Camino, and yet still we haven’t quite figured out how to mesh our styles.

Randy is a hurry up and get it done packer.

I’m slow and methodical, making sure everything is in its perfect place. Dusting it before it goes into a box, maybe conjuring up a couple memories, feeling all the feelings that go along with that particular item.

The one thing we do have in common is that we are both procrastinators.

So even though we’ve known since August that we were moving to Mexico, even though we’ve known since August that we would have to pack up our entire house and put it into a 16-foot trailer, even though we’ve known since August that we would have to itemize every single box in order to satisfy Border Patrol, we still waited until 3 days before we had to be out of our house to start packing.

We were busy! We had a party to plan. Work to do. A yard sale to have. Friends to hang out with. Pizza to eat. And all those other excuses…

Three days to pack up everything you own definitely justifies a Randy-style packing.

However, the Mexican Embassy’s particularities about itemization made me want to argue for my more methodical style. If the box says “kitchen items,” you can’t throw in a pair of shoes. If the box says “tools,” you can’t throw in a dog toy. Not to mention the fact that this was the first home we ever called ours and I wanted to feel a little sentimental about leaving it.

It wasn’t a perfect three days. We butted heads a couple of times. But by day three we could see the light at the end of the tunnel and that made it easier. We found ourselves encouraging one another, giving high-fives and multiple accolades. He did an amazing job packing up the garage, and I managed to pack up our entire pantry (which was filled with office supplies!) in no time at all. Our hard work had paid off, and we’d both had space and reasoning to do it “our way”.

With everything boxed up and the trailer loaded we headed to the Mexican Consulate in Sacramento to turn in our list of personal items and pay the $127 fee to take it all over the border. The consulate, you might recall, that denied our initial application for visas.

“You look familiar,” she said to us. “How did you…?”

“We went to a different consulate,” we said with smiles.

Our smile waned, however, when she denied us once again.  

“First of all,” she said, “this list should be printed in portrait, not landscape.”

Oh brother!

“Were you given an example sheet?” she asked. “It showed you where to put your address.”

The sheet I’d been given to show me how to setup the list of our items was entirely in English. Except for one word: “direccion.” I read right past it, failing to realize they wanted me to print our old and new addresses on the top of the form. We were promptly told to go home (an hour roundtrip) and reprint our list with addresses and portrait layout. Sheesh.

We’d planned a hike with Randy’s brother for the next day, but instead we went home, took a little extra time cleaning, packing, and saying goodbye to the first place we'd called our own.

The next morning our paperwork, with addresses and the proper layout, was easily approved. We paid our $127 and can now take our personal belongings into Mexico. Hurray! Perhaps the second time is the charm when it comes to us and the consulate...

But then we got the bad news that we would also have to pay $700 to take our vehicle with us. Ouch! That definitely was not in the budget.

We were given a piece of paper that said: “Aduana”, followed by a phone number.

“So, if we call Aduana she will answer our questions about the import fees?” I asked.

Randy chimed in, “Who is Aduana?”

The lady behind the counter said, “Aduana is not a she,” and left it at that. 

We googled it and discovered that Aduana is Spanish for "customs."

Oh.

I guess we’d better keep practicing our Spanish!

Want to help cover the unexpected cost of importing our vehicle to Mexico? Donate through PlumFund: Sonshine Hacienda Missionaries.