Sometimes I think the world is getting a certain sameness as I travel–and certainly there were McDonald’s and Starbucks stores that made the landscape of Puerto Vallarta Americanized. But in this little town of Sayulita where we are staying, I’m delighted in how different it still is and how this culture is alive and well. Not everyone is trying to immigrate to America and today I met a man who lives here instead of Los Angeles. “I wanted to get away from the crime and heliocopters and sirens and violence. It’s so peaceful here and quiet and no violence.”
There are the many ways I need to adjust: no toilet paper in the toilet; the water warmed by a tank in the sun, an open air kitchen, living and dining room, the water from the faucet undrinkable, and all the code violations on the buildings that Steve can pick out. And probably the most challenging is not speaking much Spanish. I always feel badly that I haven’t tried harder in my life to master Spanish–I got closer when on my pilgrimage, but then I didn’t use it again and it’s all rusted away. Even this morning I wondered if I might try once more.
What I enjoy again about Mexico is the friendliness of the people, the likeliness of smiling and joking, the respect of elders and ancestors, the bright colors and the music. Oh and the food. I love that the menu last night had items not found in our local Mexican restaurant in Eagle River–marlin stew tacos, octopus enchiladas, and sweet corn ice cream. They were all so good–but perhaps it was the sound of waves, the sand under our feet or the full moon rising.
We are adjusting to the 100 degree rise in temperature quite well since leaving Alaska two days ago just in case you were worried : )