An American PC Display in Mexico (Premium)

We were surprised to discover that Amazon Mexico is often as good as the version we get back home, with seamless one- and two-day deliveries. Indeed, we’ve bought a wide range of items for our apartment here, including electronics like a 58-inch TV, a pair of JBL Charge 5 speakers, and some podcasting gear I’ll be writing up separately, plus normal apartment things like an anti-vibration base for the fridge, wall hangers, pillows, and so on.

Part of Amazon’s appeal here is a coincidence of geography. Had we purchased an apartment elsewhere in this country, the experience could have been quite different. But because we’re in Mexico City, the biggest city here, it’s been reliable and efficient. As with so much else here, it’s a little bit embarrassing, this first-world service in a place in which so many are destitute. But it’s also emerged as one of the unexpected advantages to us choosing this area.

Helping matters, our apartment is in a building with 24/7 security, and so Amazon’s delivery people will drop off packages with them, and then they will call us to let us know they’ve arrived. In fact, more often than not, they bring it up to us on the 6th floor. We’ve told them this is unnecessary, but as I’ve noted many times, the people here are, if anything, overly accommodating.

There are some challenges, of course. It is Mexico, after all.

Though we can use our normal Amazon sign-in to access Amazon Mexico, we have to be careful to switch the default delivery location to our address here because they will deliver things to Pennsylvania otherwise. Some of the items we shop for will come from the United States, which is undesirable because it adds to the shipping costs and time frame, but it’s not always clear which items will come from Mexico or the U.S: A small “Importación” flag is the only clue, and my wife and I have inadvertently chosen a U.S.-based item more than once.

Some items, especially electronics, are also much more expensive in Mexico for reasons that elude me. But we got a good deal on the TV and speakers, go figure, and because the speakers happened to be on sale at the time, I paid less for them here than I would have at home. The selection isn’t as good, either, of course. And with some items—like a polo shirt I tried to buy recently—I’ve come up short.

And, horrors of horrors, the Amazon Mexico website (and app) is only in Spanish. But that’s worked out: It’s a good way to acclimate to the language, and I can always use the Google Translate browser extension when I’m stuck.

Anyway, nearly two years into this Mexico adventure, we’ve never had any real issues using Amazon Mexico. Until yesterday.

My wife and I both use a More Mobile setup here in Mexico that consists of a laptop, a USB-C or Thunderbolt 4 dock, a laptop stand of some kind, and an external keyboard or mouse. My wife brought a USB-C external display here because she likes to use two displays, and we both switched to 16-inch laptops here on this trip because the typical 14-inch-ish laptops we typically use are a bit small. But really, even the 16-inch laptops are a bit too small compared to the 27-inch displays we use at home. And so we’ve been thinking about getting normal displays for here too.

The issue, as noted above, is that electronics can be much more expensive here than they are at home. And when we’re in a mall or department store here and look at the prices, that puts an end to that discussion. I’m not spending $400 to 600 on a 27-inch display, sorry.

This past Saturday, we were in El Palacio de Hierro, a kind of upscale, Paris-style department store, because we needed to buy coffee, and it has the closest Nespresso store inside. As always, the way we exited the store took us through the electronics section, and so we once again looked at the PC displays. And as has always been the case in the past, the prices were a bit north of what I felt was reasonable. Maybe it was time to consider something smaller, or just changing our perspective on price.

And then I came across the last display there, a 24-inch Dell P2422H display that was only MX$3400, about $200 US. It’s smaller than the displays we use at home, but it would still be a nice bump up from the laptop displays. And it was only 1080p, where I’d have preferred 1440p or better. But … maybe. I took a picture of the model number and figured that if it was that cheap at this luxury store, it would perhaps be even cheaper at Amazon Mexico. I also wondered whether I might find something more to my liking there at a reasonable price. Hope springs eternal.

Long story short, I could have gotten a 1440p version of this display at Amazon Mexico for a bit over $300. But the Dell P2422H was indeed less expensive there, just $185, and I figured it worth at least giving it a shot: Perhaps me and/or my wife would find it met our needs here nicely. So I ordered one from Amazon Mexico, with no additional shipping cost, and wasn’t surprised to discover that it would arrive just two days later on Monday, today. If this went well, maybe we’d even get a second one so we could both have a desktop display.

After nothing but full sun, no clouds for the duration of our trip so far, we woke up to rain on Sunday and decided to do a few errands, among them meeting an apartment need that Amazon Mexico hadn’t been able to fulfill: We’ve long needed a solid base for our bed mattress here. So we walked to the various furniture stores we know of in the area, and discovered what I had feared, that most bed bases these days are just cheap metal frames like the one we already have. And that we might be better off just getting some wood cut by a local craftsman. But we had one more place to try, a mall that’s only a block south of us. Suspecting we would strike out there too, we nonetheless headed over there just in case.

Just a half block from the apartment, my phone buzzed, so I looked down and saw a notification that only said “Messages.” (Stupid Samsung.) It began, “Un conductor necesita ayuda para entregar el pedido de Amazon.” Even without the word Amazon in there, my Spanish is good enough to understand that message. Amazon Mexico was delivering the display a day early, nice. The driver was at the apartment and needed help delivering the order.

I texted back that we were close, and we turned around and saw that there was a van in front of our apartment. Not an Amazon van, but a third-party delivery service of some kind. There were two people inside, and after confirming this was our delivery, the woman on the passenger side of the vehicle got out, slid open the van’s side door, and pulled out the display. Incredible.

Then she asked for a contraseña. Which means “password” in Spanish.

A what now?

A flurry of Spanish occurred. We understood only some of it, but my wife had ordered the TV earlier and told me that Amazon had sent her a code then that she had given to the security guard so that the TV would be delivered. The drivers needed a similar code so I could get the display. Ah.

But I didn’t have a code. I pulled out my phone and could see no text messages or emails from Amazon Mexico. I opened the Amazon app and impatiently switched that over to Amazon Mexico (it was on the US version) while the woman waited. “Lo siento,” I said. “Un momento.” I found the display in my list of orders and showed it to her. She shook her head, no. I brought up the tracking information. Nope.

The other person in the van got out to assist. More talking, more half-understanding. Finally, I pulled the Mexico temporary residency card out of my wallet, a government-issued ID that proves that I’m me and can stay in this country. I had the Amazon app with my name and the order in it. We were standing in front of our apartment, and I had responded to the text message the drivers had sent. I am me, and this is my order. Clearly, we had met the requirements for her to hand over this package to me.

We had not.

The drivers would not give me the display, which we could see inches away in its box, until and unless I gave them the code—the contraseña—they needed. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to prove that they had not stolen it. But you could take my picture, I noted, take a picture of my ID, and my phone with the order on it.

Nope.

The woman apologized, put the box with my display back into the van, and shrugged. “Mañana.”

Mañana?! But it’s right there.

They drove away. I complained about this inanity the entire way to the mall we were originally heading to, and my wife finally gave up trying to explain that I’d probably get the code for the next day, when the package was supposed to arrive anyway. I wanted none of it. This made no sense.

We struck out at the furniture store, of course, so we’re going to see if we can get some plywood cut to size locally instead. But while I was sitting down to work this morning, and email chimed. It was from Amazon. And it contained the contraseña I will need to receive the package containing my display when it arrives later today. Probably.

Oh, Mexico.

PS: I’ll be writing about the display and some other changes I’ve made to my More Mobile set up here soon. –Paul