The last days

My last days have been very full. I packed my whole  house into plastic bags, where did all this stuff come from. I gave away my Pepto Bismal pink dress and threw away termite eaten shoes. I defrosted my fridge, which I am getting good at as you have to defrost your fridge here on a regular basis, not sure why but  we blame the humidity because it is custom to blame everything on it, just like how in Peru we blamed everything on the altitude. (before blogging)

I tried to walked the beach with a sense of gratefulness instead of sadness,  then while I was meditating on how amazing my life is a herd of handsome horsemen picked me up and invited me to eat carne asada with them,  normally I wouldn't let a herd of horseman pick me up, but they weren't headless and there was carne asada...nuff said.

 I helped my Mexican sister and brother build a palapa at sunset on the beach way into the dark of the evening.

 I walked in the water and splashed around in the bioluminescence plankton one starry night, plankton only comes out to play when the stars are bright. I sat on the beach in the dark with a good friend another night, we talked of hopes and dreams and how they change with the times and he told me stories of being at sea at the night while I ate ice cream and he smoked marijuana.

 I sat on a pail in another friends bus, we drank tea and talked about going to Chili together where he would sing on the streets and  I would knit gypsy shoes, while we talked his dog was giving birth under the bed to 11 puppies, we can hear her licking them, we look out the window into the dark night and see the glow of the surf curling up on the shore and lights from the light house twinkling, we both can't believe we are here. 

 I cruised down main street alongside the malecon in Mazatlan on the back of yet another friend's motorcycle as the salty air blew through my hair I couldn't believe that this was my life, this is how I live, how unreal is that? This is my new normal.

 I sit at the hotdog stand and ate my last Mexican hotdog and watch a volleyball game in progress, the women there give me tips on how to keep my Spanish fresh while in Mexico, listen to Spanish music of course, they rattle off names of their favorite singers, most of which I forget later.

 I lay in my hammock with another friend and on our Iphones we look up Spanish music, we look up information on bats (because they were flying all around us), we look up what racoons like to eat besides mangoes, we  look up Chichalacas, we look up how many kms long Italy is and how many days it would take to explore it on a motorbike, we compare the Canadian government to the Mexican government.

 I say good bye to my neighbour, I compliment her on her new hairstyle, she tells me where the shop is in Mazatlan where I can buy hair just like hers.

We had one more party on the beach, It's "mothers" (my Tia) birthday, she is 70 something years old, we had head tacos, beans, ceviche, escavechi, and of course cake. The music was loud, the moon was big and the waves were tall. My Tio kissed my Tia under his cowboy hat, she blushed and slapped him (like you slap a cute puppy) he laughed and took her hand and danced with her like he was dancing with her for the first time. My Tio danced all night, when he couldn't find a partner he danced alone. I stood at the bar and looked down at my family and some of my neighbours all together one last time before I leave, it was sad and comforting, comforting to know that when I come back they will still be here. My Mexican brother sends me a text,  he is lonely tonight and  he wants me to send him pictures, he couldn't be here tonight. I text him pictures and a videos and chat with him all night. At one point I move towards the outer edge of the party and slowly slip into in the dark, I walk alongside the tide a bit before I head home. The tide always looks so magically in the dark, even without plankton it glows a bit.

 The vegetable guys makes a big deal about selling me my last papaya and limes, I can't afford to eat them in Canada. 

I go to say good bye to another friend, we hug and I say "have a nice life", he laughs and says "thats a lousy good bye" I know, I suck at good bye, I prefer to just sneak away.

 I go say good bye to my Mexican sister, we agree we won't cry, however, as  I walk away she ask me what time her dad is driving me to the airport, I say 10 am, she says "maybe I'll stop by for a quick cry". She doesn't show,

 I cry later as the plane takes off, the person sitting beside me thinks I've left a lover behind, and I have. Oh Mexico, how I love thee.

 I recover soon as I think of my new life about to unfold in Canada, a new job, my new vintage home (one with wheels), a whole new area to explore on my bike and my paddle board. My grandkids will live closer, I can teach them to fish, ride a bike and paddle. Will I have a garden? Maybe. Will I wake up to the sounds of birds, I hope. I will be living in the south, less daylight, less sun, will I miss it, probably. Will I be too busy exploring to notice, I hope. The forests aren't as thick and the trees not as tall but will the prairies and the ranch lands have something new to woo me, we'll see. I like to be wooed. Maybe the waters and the fish will win my heart. I hope. 

Chano's burgers, go there. 

Cruzin downtown Mazatlan

The enchanted palm forest

when your cab and box aren't aligned....no problem

See you in Canada 

Mermaid in training

Last winter was the first time that I spend time in the water, learning to swim. I had a very patient teacher, I was not a good student. Then one day I connected, I felt the water, I smelt it, it was deep in my skin, I felt it in my hair and tasted it on my lips, then I became determined. I was ok, then one day I made a mistake and got nailed hard by a big wave, the sea swallowed me and spit me out. I was fine, but it slowed me down. Then I went back to Canada, no more swimming. Until this year. I was more determined, I had no coach or partner, I was on my own.

I went to Los Chivos, the most south point, there's a little bay with no waves, the water is crystal clear, you can see the bottom, the sand, the pebbles, the little fish and the occasional manta raya. I was there 2-4 times a week. Swimming is not the problem anymore, it's my breathing that is the problem. I am no longer afraid of the water, I love it, I jump right in, no tippy toeing, I want the water on me, sliding off my skin as I push myself through it. It's so soft and silky, like swimming in a tub when you have used one of those bath salt bombs. I leave it on me when I get home, I don't shower until the next day. I love it when my bed sheets smell like sea.

There is a pizza place, they have cold cocos and beautiful garlic pizza, and a trampoline by the sea, you can jump on it to dry yourself off before walking home. I swim, eat, lay on a lounger, swim again, and sit around until I am dry. I meet a new friend there this year, she has a restaurant too, good fish. A wonderful Christian women who love to talk about scripture. She cooked a lobster dinner for me and some other Canadian friends of hers before we left. It was very special, it was at sunset and we watched a cruise ship leave on our way home. When I am lounging I imagine opening a surf shop of sorts. I would have a juice/smoothie/milkshake bar, no food, I would rent out paddle boards and other beach toys, no one else on the beach has this. I would have my Mex sister's menu and she could deliver her food over.  I would have a paddle instructor on hand, he would be handsome and single, he would massage my neck in the daytime and serenade me in the evening while we salsa dance in the plankton....ops, different dream never mind.

I should continue swimming when I get home, I can't imagine swimming in a pool, indoors, that smells like chlorine, kids pee in there, old men spit in there and who knows what the staff do in there. I need to find a shallow lake, it won't taste and smell like the ocean but I just need to swim so I don't lose momentum.

The bay at Los Chivos, photo from the web

Drying my clothes