Friday, January 21, 2011 — No doubt why I'm here

If ever there was any doubt whether or not I should come here this year, it is gone with the wind. Just talked with JP and he has heard that it is freezing cold on the Mendocino coast. It is just a little cooler here than I remember ever, but it is oh, so pleasant. I swam this morning with ladies from Canada and Michigan. Needless to say, we were universally celebrating the warm air and water.

After I swam, I walked up to what had been my favorite local super market. A place called Riso which boasted one of those upstairs levels that held every old fashioned kitchen wonder you'd ever wish for, super art supplies, sewing notions and all kinds of appliances and things I can't even remember. As I walked into the store today I immediately became disoriented. I kept looking in the right place for the stairway and finally came to the realization that all possibilities had been thoroughly blocked. Seriously blocked. Permanently blocked. I was in shock. I finally asked around, and it seems that this big change took place sometime in the last six months. Not only are the precious items from above nowhere to be found, but the whole layout is vastly opened up and bare looking. Ah, progress. Looks suspiciously like new ownership. I found a few substitutes for the paper I was seeking and walked out resigned to one more Vallarta change that I wish had not taken place.

But then.......... I had a late lunch in the Los Arcos dining room. "Welcome Miss Jackie," has now become music to my ears. I asked a lot of questions about the soups offered. One was labeled "fish soup" and I was told, after a long consultation with the chef, that it was made with white wine and contained small carrots as well as fish broth. So then I asked about the "seafood soup" and was told that it was heartier. That was an understatement. I ordered it and requested a side order of pico de gallo to go with it so I'd be assured of some vegetable. I thought of our friend Tim when it arrived because he had told us that he was planning on a very special cciopino (sp) last Tuesday in San Francisco. Well, nothing could have been more beautiful than what arrived before me along with an apology for the time it had taken. At least three waiters questioned me seriously about whether it was to my liking. It featured crab, white fish, a host of things like octopus and who knows what in a lovely tomato base with green veggies of some sort. I ate a bit and then bravely added the pico de gallo, stirred it and slowly savored every last bite. They were still coming to me and asking how I liked it and one waiter seemed to be taking credit for putting in a special word with the chef on my behalf.

After finishing, I sat there drinking and reading. One of my boys put The Brothers Karamazov on the kindle recently and I have finally fallen prey to it. Truly engaging if you can just get a handle on the list of players. Usually, when I read one of these Russian wonders I make a list as I'm going along, but I haven't started doing that yet. I may regret not doing so.

Of course there were also all the engaging distractions. The baby and his mother sitting as part of a pair of couples. Young mama had eyes only for that baby. She cooed, tickled, rocked and generally put her all into entertaining him. Then the musicians who frequent the malecon stopped by and began playing and singing right by this foursome. They sang their hearts out and the other woman finally paid them off and they moved on. But only halfway down the length of the restaurant. Down in the smoking section was a table with about ten prosperous looking young women and one man. I noticed them several times as they became more festive. I don't know what they were drinking but it just kept getting better. They began singing each song along with the outside musicians. Then some of the table members were standing and swaying and pointing and acting the conductor. It built up to a startling crescendo. I almost cried on the spot, it was so spontaneous and gleeful. And it just kept on going. Better and better. I couldn't really understand the words but this bunch knew every syllable and were finally shouting the words to beat the band. I think they went on for half an hour before I left and they were still at it when I went out on the balcony of my room. I couldn't help thinking that this was something I would never see happening where I live. I love where I live, but I love this too. With a passion.

The phone rang just as I entered the room and it was JP who responded to my "Bueno." He said he and Yael had been talking about me at lunch and wondering if I was having a good time at Los Arcos. He got his answer and then some. A description of the whole last two hours just poured out of me and I could hardly slow down. From the man who helped me cross the wildly busy street by the supermercado to the drummers on the beach to the fabulous seafood soup to the wild and crazy table full of singers and conductors. He asked and he got an earful. Tomorrow they pick me up and we'll go to photograph the tapestry show and then do the lovely drive up to El Tuito to begin the next phase of this liberating Mexican voyage.

I thought I was finished with this edition, but my balcony door is open and the sound of young girls singing to some hip music in the pool has me entranced. As I walked out to see what was happening, I was just in time to see a ring of girls holding one long, slender teenager up above the water, flying angel style, and cheering to beat the band. It has the feel of some TV thing and I'm back in my room but every few minutes they break out into lovely harmonies and spoken verses and then sometimes screams of applause. Obviously a lot of direction is taking place. It's sounding more and more like a" heart felt commercial." Have to go out again to check it out. Took about twelve quick pictures when my batteries ran out. Quick trip down to the lobby. Back via the pool scene. I asked a few questions and was told that it is a group class learning to express themselves freely. OK. Freely, with a lot of direction and encouragement from the sidelines, especially from the very handsome brown eyed man I have been thinking of as the director. He really gets them going. Well, it's just one "feliz" moment after another and you never know what's coming next. Much to my liking.

Sorry, I can't stop now. It's 10:00 now and I've just finished a nice endive and goat cheese salad and set up my laptop to copy what I wrote this afternoon into the blog while I'm on wifi. I can hardly stand it, it's so wild and wonderful. They've been playing some mambos and a huge crowd is in a circle on the dance floor yelling and screaming as someone performs in the center and the circle dances one way and then the other. I've never seen people have so much fun. Now they're screaming in unison for some special selection. But,,,the band and the beauties are going by the book and taking their break. Probably everybody needs a little break after that gorgeous mayhem. Ok, end of this report as the table with the most crazies right by me is laughing their heads off and stamping their feet over something. Obviously, this could go on forever, but I hope you liked a little taste of what I'm enjoying beyond words.