Friends in high places

Sunday I head into Maz to attend Spanish church, they have moved to a new location, I have a photo of a map and an address. Along the way I ask 3 people for directions and they all send me in a different direction. I find the church and I am late but I am not. (Mexican church always starts late) I am greeted by friendly familiar faces. The worship is incredible, ,the songs are familiar and I feel Jesus' presence. My Spanish however needs some work....my Spanish brain isn't turned on yet, I remember that I forgot my Spanish verb workbook in Canada, I'm annoyed at myself.
A friend invites me to her mother's house for lunch, she lives close to the Island docks. We take a bus. It's her brothers birthday....and it's a party, I am introduced to about 20 people, my Spanish brain does not keep up. In true Mexican tradition tables are set up in the middle of the street, even a tent (because it's blitzen hot) cars have to detour and they do so without issue and without being told, there are no signs, no police officers directing traffic.....it just happens, it's how we party here. The cake is beautiful, the carne asada tacos are awesome, I underestimate the salsa roja, my eyes and nose start running, I overcome, ceviche is great, (but no one makes it like my Mex. sister) the beans were a new recipe for me, they were awesome. 

The vanilla cake was great  and the ice cream was cool and soft. Once again my Spanish is frustrating me, maybe another Spanish immersion school is needed.....but isn't that what I am doing right now....total immersion?
On my walk home I see another party on the street, and that street is blocked too.....I'll try this when I get back to Canada, just to see how it would go over. 


I have friends that live in high places...really high, high up Ice box hill in Mazatlan, I choose a blazin hot day to visit them and the hottest part of the day to make the climb...what can i say, they are just that special. I pick up 2 slices of pizza and eat them as I climb up. This is a good system, to refuel as you are burning energy, and it slows me down...all that swallowing and breathing you know. Dried and cracked back iguanas scurry as I stumble up the steps. Climbing these rock steps makes me think of my time in Peru, sure glad I went there when I was still young....would die there now. I think of ice cream, I should buy these friends a pail of ice cream so that I can always have a big bowl when I get to the top, but the thought of carrying a pail of ice cream up here isn't good. Could it be any hotter? Has it ever not been hot when I climb up here? It's always hot getting up here. I get to the top and am awed at the view and forget about ice cream.

There are 72 steps going up to ice box hill, of course once you get to these steps you are already halfway up

The view

The view from their living room window. The malecon (sea side walkway is 13 miles long, the longest in the world, is beautifully painted and is so nice to walk day or night

More malecon, great for walking, rollerblading and biking

The Mexican flag

 We have a good visit. We drive down (yes I got a ride down...not up lol) to our favorite papa loca place and eat an amazing papa loca....my first of the season, it did not disappoint. Never mind that I just had 2 pieces of pizza....I worked those off, my body didn't even feel them. My friends brought a pencil to make a mark in the doorway for every papa they eat this season, I choose not to count mine. Why is it so comforting to sit at a plastic table on the busiest corner of this big city, eating and talking while the traffic roars by, a mixture of cars, chili trucks, motorbikes, dust and buses.....oh the buses, roaring, honking (because this speeds up traffic), as exhaust fumes float in we eat our papas and talk about how great this country is....and how great the papas are, the chaos around us is there, but the peace of Mexico rides you though it in soft waves of familiar comfort. There is comfort in knowing that when we come back next year, the marks in the door frame, the same waitresses and the same papas, and the plastic tables will still be there. ..... and the buses will still honk....to speed up traffic. Things don't change very quickly here, and I like that.
I am alone on the boat across the water to the Island, I love the lights of the shrimp and tuna fleet in the port. The tuna fleet is parked until after new year's. They light the port up like a Christmas tree. The breeze on the ocean is so welcome....I wish I could sleep there, on the boat. I should have bought a fan while I was in town....surely it will cool off soon. Walking home I notice Christmas trees are up in some houses....doors and windows are open in our homes. 3 stumbling drunk cowboys pass me, there are arm in arm singing a love song, they don't notice me, a dog barks in the distance, I hear the surf, the chicken place is still selling chicken, 4 guys are playing basket ball on the court, some friends are eating on the street in front of Patty's, there is the usual cowboy tailgate meeting in front of Los mangoes, aside from the dog barking and the surf....not a sound. I know I have coffee, cream and toilet paper at home, so straight home I go. I wish I had a pail of ice cream.