Zapatos, Sombrero, y Abenico

The door to the left will be mine to the upstairs

I am definitely taking the upstairs apartment with ocean views starting April 1st.  I and my landlord will try to rent it out while I'm in CA April 9-22 or 23.  And also while I'm gone in the summer to Italy and Bethlehem, to at least CUT my obligation for rent. I will have two terraces with an ocean view, as well as a more secure feeling.  Having a living room door on the street takes getting used to.  Victor, my landlord, said that he gets 30 or more email responses every time he lists his apartments, because everybody loves this street!  Let me know if anyone needs a vacation!

Around the corner is the beach.  I met a nice man from Canada there early this morning.  A few men meet at 7AM to have coffee, so tomorrow I am joining them and me and the one guy, John, a master electrician, will swim in the ocean.  He, like me, prefers not to swim alone.  So excited, but I PRAY I can wake up!

I walked into town with this John today and told him I was wearing my sneakers because my feet hurt in my sandals.  But now my feet are so hot! 

He had just bought $12 sandals and so I went and got some too - they are really ugly, but have a thick sole, and I walked in them all day and feel great!  For twelve bucks!

I also bought a "sea grass" hat for $15 - a very well-made one.  The guy wanted $30 but I promised him I'd bring him customers if he gave me half off.  He did.

I don't like wearing hats, but this one can be dunked in cold water without losing its shape, and it "breathes" - and it's necessary to keep the sun off my beautiful face! (smirk)

John and I walked a lot that first day, and my face was sizzling went I went to bed, despite the hat which I bought far too late in the day.  After two melanomas, fighting the sun will be this sun worshiper’s greatest challenge here.  A quick dip in the post-sunset sea provided refreshing relief for my sunburned skin and sore soles.  NOTHING, however,  could have prepared me for my walk the next day.  Talk about exhaustion! It all started with a simple “abanico.”

I had met Consuelo at Sunday Mass.  She squeezed into the pew next to me, even though I had positioned myself on the end for two purposes; one, to be solitary, and two, to feel the slight breeze through the open door next to which I had sat.

Second in the pew, I am still content, until the Church became so full that I now was actually squished.  And perspiring profusely.  Fact is, I sat for nearly forty five minutes feeling hot, anxious, and eventually, cramped. Wait, I digress.

Our Lady of Refuge is only three blocks away - arriba! - UP!  I arrived just as the bells were ringing, only to see about forty teenagers gathered in the courtyard area filling out papers - likely answering “Jesus” questions.  

I am quite familiar with “teen nights,” having been a Youth Minister at two different Churches, trying to elicit some semblance of spiritual interest out of these pre- and pubescent creatures.  I snickered a bit at the sight of these Mexican young people behaving exactly as “my students” did both in 1982 and again in 2005.  Though obviously bored, they managed to transmit sexual signals and inflict peer pressure, while simultaneously answering “God is love” for every query on their “inner-view” sheet. (I'm sure of this)

I found my place in the Son, alone in a pew exactly in the middle of the Church, near the door, where air would hopefully flow.  There were about twenty people in the Church.  The bells rang.  Teens were still scattered outside, and some sitting up front near the sanctuary.  No priest in sight.

As more faithful file in, I decide to read the day’s readings on my I-Phone 6 Roman Catholic Buddy APP.  Bells ring again at 6:45.  Still no priest, but a lot more people.  I’m now beginning to think they changed the time of the Mass behind Google’s back.

It was nearing 7PM when Consuelo plopped down next to me, forcing me to slide and squish into the lady on my right.  I took out my “abanico” (Spanish fan) I had gotten in Sevilla.  I was one of about five ladies “fanning,” as the locals are obviously acclimated to this humidity and heat.  I’m getting there!

When the bells rang again and the Mass had still not yet begun, I turned to my neighbor and asked what time Mass was supposed to begin.  She giggled and said,

“Cuando el sacerdote está listo” (When the priest is ready).  I rolled my eyes, flourished my fan, and laughed.  A friendship was born.  She admired my abanico as I waved it in front of both of us, providing a mediocre respite.  Problem is, waving a fan requires energy, and energy produces - you got it - more heat!

Mi abanico de Sevilla (My fan from Seville)

Mass did indeed begin - about 7:15 - and although my hearing aid batteries died during the celebration, I wasn’t disappointed, since I can barely follow the Mass in Spanish anyway.  I’m learning slowly, and adjusting as well, to receiving the Eucharist on my tongue (“when in Rome”), something I haven’t done since 1966.  Although I am aware of the ongoing controversy surrounding the practice of receiving in the hand, the tongue thing still kinda bugs me.

After Mass, Consuelo and I formally introduced ourselves and exchanged phone numbers.  We talked briefly about our families and grandchildren (she has five), and before I knew it, she had invited me over for coffee and food the following day.  I told her that I didn’t eat much, and that coffee would be enough and wonderful.

“Ensalada, entonces!” (Salad, then!) she insisted, and I accepted.  Yummy!  Coffee and salad!  (Dios Mio! - My God!), what a combo.

Bag on head, this mama and niña climbed - I followed, bent forward like  a hungry giraffe!

When I arrived at her humble two-story concrete “row home” at the top of Uruguay St., I was drenched.  Not mincing words here - this was all out sweat, not mere perspiration.  The ascent was grueling.  It is both steep and uneven.

  

Consuelo met me at the corner with an "almost" completely teeth-filled smile.  Before we entered, she apologized for her poverty.  I assured her that her home was perfect, and that I already knew that she was, in many ways, an immeasurably  rich woman - or I would never had "fanned" her.  She agreed, giggled, and gave me a big tight hug, before sitting me 

Nueva amigas! (new friends)

A salad fit for a Queen!

before a lovely huge "ensalada" that was all for me! (Oddly, she had already eaten.)

I barely made a dent in it, however, that was neither all I ate - nor all I experi-enced.  With-in the next two hours, I would indulge in the enticing wealth that has drawn me back to Mexico for more than thirty years.

(Stay tuned for the "Magic of Abanicos," the "14,000-foot Birthday," and "St. Anthony and the Boob" story)

FEBRUARY 20, 2015

Canadians, Couples, and Captain Don’s!

Mine is the open door downstairs

What a glorious day!  Trenie and I enjoyed a complimentary meal at Cinque Terra at Krystal last night.  She spent the night, and claims I didn’t snore!  (good friend)  Today, my property manager, Victor,drove us and my two pieces of luggage (yes, that’s ALL I brought for my new life) to my new abode on Calle Paraguay! Wahoo!

My street - Paraguay

 I absolutely love it here.  Quaint quiet street in the middle of it all!  Colorful and cozy, I feel so very blessed to be here.  I bought hangers, shower gel, beans, some veggies, salt and pepper, and olive oil today at La Ley, claimed to be the most inexpensive grocery store in town!  Lucky me, it’s a block away.  I also had two copies of my key made, one for Trenie and one for guests, for a dollar apiece.

After shopping, I decided to high tail it over to Captain Don’s, two blocks away.  This is a local hangout for Americans and Canadians.  The owner is my neighbor, Don, who unfortunately lost both his wife and his left leg in the last three years.  The latter from cancer, the former form hospital staff infection in the United States. 

Anyway, I was sitting with Darrell whose wife left today for Denver, Colorado to do taxes as an accountant.  She will return on April 16, so he is “solo” for awhile.  We chatted awhile when in walked a young mother of thirty, Alejandra, with a daughter, Selene, 9, and a son, Ricardo, 7, as well as a backpack carrying the ashes of her deceased son, Jared, 3.  She had been living in Guadalajara for two years, where she met a fellow who brought her and her children here for a vacation, as well as an opportunity for to sprinkle the ashes of her child into the sea.

The father of her three children is allegedly in jail for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Stupidly (admittedly) she hooked up with a guy with enough money to make her “sprinkling” dream come true.  This morning, he slapped her and punched her.  Moments later, after he whacked her precious son, she ran away with nothing  but her backpack full of ashes, and a few pieces of clothing for each of them.  The sacred beach where she had wanted let her deceased baby fly, is now toxic to her soul.

Darrell, Alejandra, Selene, Ricardo, and I

I spoke to nine-year-old, obviously very bright, Selene on the side, and dug for the truth.  In the end, Darrell and I believed their story.  They needed a little more than three thousand pesos (about $200) to transport them by bus back to Mexicali.  I bought them dinner, for about twenty bucks, and Darrell agreed to pay for their bus tickets to Mexicali, IF I would accompany them to the bus terminal.  I walked over to the OXXO (7-11 equivalent) where tickets can be bought, and found out there is no availability until 7:30PM tomorrow.

Darrell generously offered to take them all home, let them shower, watch TV, and eat some more, and we all agreed to meet back at Captain Don’s at 5PM tomorrow, from whence I planned to accompany the trio to the bus terminal and bid them adios.  Even if they are scamming us, we will have done our best to help what we believe to be honest people in a crappy situation.  I did  take photos of their “certification” papers (just in case).

We enlisted the translation aid of one of the servers, Gloria, and she too believed the story, but warned us that scams do indeed abound.  However, if the three get on to the bus, there is no way they can return the ticket for cash.  So tomorrow will tell.  I read a text from Alejandra’s mother, saying, “Please find a way to come here.  You will experience life with no worries.  My house is paid for and I have plenty of beds and food.  I also have a job for you where I work with the telephone company, and your “tia” (aunt) can take the children to school and bring them home each day.

Darrell bonding with the children

A blowfish captivated the 2 young ones

Darrell did indeed give them food, shelter, showers, clothes laundering, and a wonderful day at the beach.  

Trenie agreed to escort this wayward bunch to the bus station with me, so after feeding them tacos on the street, we did so.  We all cried.  Selene had a handful of change, and, like any child, rich or poor, decided to drop a coin into the massage chair at the bus terminal.  It was priceless to see these siblings giggle as they enjoyed the titillating rollers of this strange mechanism.

Tears, fears, and cheers - they were off.  Trenie and I bussed it back to town, hoping they would arrive to Tepic safely for a thirty-minute layover, (nowhere near as exotic as Anthony Bourdain’s), then on to Mexicali, for a total of about twenty four hours to home.

Alejandra promised to text me both from Tepic and Mexicali, but I never heard from her.  I pray they arrived safely.

                               It’s times like this, I count my blessings.

As if that weren’t enough, Trenie and I were in for the timeshare presentation of our lives.  Desperate for any cash we could get, we went as a “couple” and endured, not the “promised” ninety minutes of high pressure sales, but FOUR hours, in addition to an hour back and forth to our destination.

Me negotiating 

After an absolutely amazing gourmet buffet (in which we liberally gorged for about an hour), a grueling sweaty walking tour of Disney-esque property, and another two hours of sales rigamarole, we escaped with two bottles of yummy flavored tequilas (coffee and almond), cash for a taxi back, 90% of which we pocketed, as we opted to share a cab (after seeing an “Alligator Crossing” sign) with another “couple,” and about $340 (US) apiece.  As a former actress, and timeshare connoisseur, I fared well.  Trenie?  Not so much.

“Never again,” she pouted.  “No matter how much I love you.”  We laughed and agreed that such “fun,” as well as an honest attempt at a reasonable buyout of my current timeshare ownerships, would from henceforth, be a “sola” act by me.  Without my “partner.”

We shared a taxi into town with a lovely Minnesota couple, who, like us, decided to walk to the main road for a bus, only to find out that on Sundays, buses weren’t so frequent, and, quite frankly, we could be wanting in the blazing sun for an hour!  We quickly bonded with the “newbie” couple. About 80% of the people ”gringos” meet here are either from Canada (mostly Winnipeg), or Minnesota.  As we hailed a taxi, and an elderly driver stopped for us, another , much younger driver, passed by shaking his finger at us as if to say, “No!  Don’t trust him!”

After some discussion with a “trabajador” (worker) a few yards away, we decided to indulge the old guy and hop aboard - for a pittance of what it would’ve cost us at the immediate entrance of the resort.  I immediately became the completely illl-equipped interpreter.  Halfway to El Centro, the blinking lights pulled us over.

“He ran a blinking yellow light,” said the Minnesotoan male in the front seat, as the elderly driver disembarked to go greet the “policia.”  I was, as I am in Santa Barbara, unnerved, as there are so many other “crimes” worth unravelling than a random “gringo transporter” running a yellow!

Nonetheless, our guy got out of the car and began to yell at the police!  Nonplussed, i told the Minnesota-ans and Trenie that we needed to be ready to hop out and catch a bus.  I warned them that such behavior could likely get the old guy “cuffed.”

But “cuffed” he was not, as he returned cursing, spitting, and shaking his head.  I kept telling him in Spanish that I was sorry this happened, but the female of the couple said, “He knows the rules, doesn’t he?”

“You must’ve been a teacher,” said Trenie.  And guess what?!  She was!  So there, in the back seat of an irate, rule-defying old Mexican’s taxi, sat three former school teachers, agreeing that the old fart was a hothead, and should’ve known better!

The couple got off with Trenie and me at Our Lady of Guadalupe, and we tipped the poor stubborn dude about a buck. (USUALLY, THERE IS NO TIPPING TO TAXI DRIVERS HERE, BUT IT HELPS - IF YOU GET THEIR NUMBER FOR FUTURE RIDES).

We gave the couple a quick overview of the lay of the land, and set them free to explore El Centro, the Romantic Zone,, the Malecon, and the amazing restaurants of Los Altas and Conchas Chinas.  We pointed out Our Lady of Guadalupe Church (NOT a Cathedral as many believe) perched like a hawk overlooking the town square where locals gather on Sunday evenings to dance, flirt, eat, and watch a movie!

The church buildings is topped with an elaborate crown, "allegedly designed to resemble a tiara worn by one of Emperor Maximilian's mistresses"

We, on the other hand, were headed to the Rio Cuale, under the bridge, to catch some shade, and perhaps make some shady deals on change purses and fans. (It’s hot!)

Trenie shopping on the Rio Cuale!

The dripping Banyan - read about this intriguing
epiphyte. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banyan

The mercado (market) along the River Cuale is cool and charming, but more expensive for the usual trinkets.  

"Shaky" tourists rock and sway!

We strolled through the shade of Banyan trees, gave directions to... ...the“suspension bridge” to an elderly couple who could hardly walk (I don’t trust the suspension bridge), 
and stopped at El Huarachon to share a “Haurache,” the Mexican flatbread pizza loaded with carne asada, cheese, and salsa of roasted tomatoes and ancho chiles for 25 pesos ($1.72) but the drinks were $7 apiece!

Great for cheap yummy food - drinks, not so much

I pass by Martin at Huarachon daily!

A Carne Asada Haurache (Mexican pizza)

ADVICE:  Drink beer or water, cuz that’s where they getcha! (except for dollar Margarita’s at Cheeky Monkey, Sea Monkey, and Oceana). But man, was this Huarache delicious and filling!

Bag Ladies sell homemade purses!

We leisurely strolled through the weekly Farmer’s Market in the Old Town Square a block from the Blue Shrimp Restaurant, where prices are high (popular Gringo gathering), and everything has to be made from local ingredients. 

Meeting up with another gal, Rose, with whom Trenie had been conversing online for eight months, under a palapa on the beach, we sampled yummy candied pecans, dried mangos and kiwis, and a few other goodies.  Trenie and Rose each bought quite a bit, so they guy gave us all a free bag of our choice.  I chose the pecans and gobbled them up before you could say “deliciosos dulces!” (yummy candy). 

The array of choices on the candy cart, reminded me me of a dream I had many years ago of brilliantly-colored cotton balls along Highway 99 in Bakersfield, leading to a luminescent rainbow over the Grapevine!  As i enjoy my photographic glimpses of Mexico, one word repeatedly and consistently comes to mind - colorful.  Bright, deep, intense, and lovely - the colors make me feel alive! 

GOOD MORNING, IGUANA!

                                                                                        FEBRUARY 16, 2015

                                                                                  GOOD MORNING, IGUANA!

Though fascinating, these pests can unnerve the squeamish.    My friend, Carmen, is deathly afraid of reptiles of any kind.  I get it.  We all have phobias.  Mine is fear of paralysis.  But, today, thankfully, I am a reptile-lover, and was, along with a handful of other guests, anxious to snap a few photos of a rooftop visitor this morning.  He seemed to be posing, frozen in the hot sun, as we came within inches of this ancient-looking animal.  I named him “Fiddler.” (on the roof))

Today I was witness to a baby turtle release  right in front of the Krystal resort.  These precious  endangered angels, particularly the Olive Ridley breed, hatch all over the Banderas Bay and other parts Mexico, but particularly here in Puerto Vallarta,   They can be found in Costa Rica and several other Latin American countries,  but Vallarta pays particular attention to their plight, having several "Save the Turtles" alliances who strive to locate, hatch, and release thousands of this species' offspring annually. 

Unfortunately, approximately one in on hundred actually survives to adulthood. See what I witnessed, an actual "egg-laying" moment, in the middle of the day (which is highly unusual), in Banderas Bay!               https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBC6iEj8JHc

 Marine turtles (tortoise are land-only animals), have flippers with one or two nails on them.  Amazingly, they are born with ONE tooth, with which they break through their egg shell to enter the world.  In a short time, this single tooth evaporates.  No need.  These toothless beauties snag shrimp, crabs, jellyfish, seagrass, and a myriad of other creatures from the sea to satiate their large appetites.  They do not reach maturity until between the ages of eight and twelve, and they begin to Pro-create around the age of fifteen,  Many females have multiple breeding males, and guess what?  Once a male is hatched and crawls back into the sea, it never again touches land.  The females, however, after years in the ocean, must crawl onshore, lagging their nearly one hundred pound bodies, drag themselves in circles onto the beach, dig a hole up to 1 1/2 feet deep, lay their 50 to 135 eggs (no fun), then busy the little “wannabe’s,” and crawl back to the sea.

This has definitely been an "animal awareness" week!

An internet trip to Starbuck’s at Peninsula Plaza, and an Espresso Americano Grande, provided a canine treat as well.  I met, and made friends with, a darling Mexican Hairless.  The dog’s owners, a young couple, who had two other dogs as well, said that this breed was actually bred, like pigs, to be food!  Their personalities are quite pig-like, in that they are solely concerned with satisfying their own appetites, and couldn’t care less about their owners or other dogs.  They do not follow a pack, and, though loyal, do not crave attention.  Like pigs, and many cats, they are independent and unpredictable.  Her smooth skin reminded me of that chemical play-dough we used to make in science class.  Goop.  Cold, but not sticky.  Oh, and they are hypo-allergenic!  I want one!  But after having had many dogs and other pets, and being the gypsy that I am, I think I’ll stick to loving the pet families of others.

Though I have a wonderful family of two living parents, two siblings, four children, two granddaughters, and a slew of cousins and aunts and uncles, I am, essentially, alone.  We all have our own lives, habits, patterns, and styles.   I don’t want to be dependent on my family, but I do have the luxury of knowing they are always there.  A nasty five or more-year divorce, has left me in a distressing financial state.  Long story short, that’s why I’m here - in Puerto Vallarta, my second home, trying to live well on a budget, and set money aside for my latter years.  I’m so amazed and grateful for technology.  Had I moved here years ago, I would never have been able to see the beautiful faces of the people I love.  Today, it was my son, Chris.  Yay FaceTime!

Well, I found my new apartment.  By the grace of God, I will be moving on Friday into a little one-bedroom place on my absolutely favorite street, Paraguay.  Just a half block around the corner is the beach.  One block up is a bustling street and a large tienda (store), La Ley, which is much like a Super Walmart.  There are restaurants and shops nearby, and within two blocks, I am on the Malecon (boardwalk), where activites, aromas, and  atmosphere abound.

This past week at the Krystal resort has been plagued with bug bites (though apparently not from my bed), isolation (my RCI exchange unit doesn’t have an ocean view and feels a bit like being in a single wide mobile home), and loneliness.  It is far enough from El Centro to be inconvenient, and I am surrounded by hand-holding couples and vacationing families.  I’ll be glad when I am in my own little casita, hopefully bug-free! 

The hotel exterminated my room and comped me a bottle of red wine for my “bug troubles.”  And they also made up my bed very beautifully each day!

I met a guy who is here on an all-inclusive plan.  I happily imbibed on food and drink - on his dime - but realized that he was lonelier than I.  He is here visiting his parents, who live here 8 months out of the year, and proceeded to unload on me about their familial unrest.  Ugh!  He has a LOT of money, at about 40 years old, but is very alone.  A bit cocky, but likable, this guy made me count my blessings.

My new friend, Trenie, will come over tomorrow to bask by the pool and have a complimentary dinner with me.  The other day she had bought a bottle of Kahlua and some milk, but after she left, I noticed that the “milk” was actually “La Leche Infantil” (baby formula)!!  No wonder she got nauseous after drinking it!  We bought four plastic chairs the other day at La Ley, but were so pooped out, decided to sit in them for about fifteen minutes in the middle of the aisle!  Then later, we sat on them in front of a gas station before we proceeded up her steep hill!   Trenie makes me laugh,  She has no faith in anything, which intrigues me, but her spirit is positive and alive.

My faith is what has sustained me through years of legal torture.  I love going to Mass, even though I loathe some of the “system” and its “operators.”  I was brought to tears at Mass on Saturday at Our Lady of Guadalupe, as I witnessed the marriage of a rather hefty couple, watching them, entwined by a giant rosary, pledging their lives to one another.  I cried.  I was the only one crying, and likely the only one who did not know the couple!  It was beautiful and sad at the same time.  After two marriages, I am somewhat skeptical.  Nonetheless, my faith remains my anchor.

My favorite Stained Glass at Guadalupe

A Valentin'es Day Wedding!

One of many captivating sunsets!

Adios Sayulita!

FEBRUARY 13, 2015

Adios Sayulita - for now!  My last day there, I spent mostly back at “the office,” Choco Banana.   Deb and friends went into Vallarta to run errands, while I stayed behind.  I had a yummy Huevos a la Mexicana breakfast for five bucks, and sat for hours working, people-watching, and greeting customers, since I appeared to be “in charge.”  Owner, Tracie, had to spend the day in Bucerias filing a report with the local DA, as her neighbor beat her and her mother (who intervened) with a stick.  It’s been an ongoing feud over the neighbor’s constantly barking (and chained up) dogs.  Apparently, Tracie had no luck, because Mexicans usually “win” over Americans. Bienvenidos!

I returned to Deb’s around 4PM, and realized I hadn’t hidden a key.  The dogs and I chatted it up, as I wrote my heart away on the serene patio, finally lighting a candle and rinsing my dusty feet off in the pool.  The unbelievable “reasonable” gardener, who comes three times per week, arrived and toiled for well over an hour!  I remember my gardener (Mexican in America) finishing my half-acre lot in under thirty minutes!  Needless to say, I was impressed with the young man’s work ethic and attention to details.

Deb came home, as did Pancho, and we chatted into the night about spiritual things, like the “healer” on the AllyCat the other day.  A group of women had chartered the boat for a day of intense relaxation and healing, specifically by a woman who travels the world circulating her hands over people (without touching them), and ultimately healing them of all sorts of physical and spiritual ailments.

The most intriguing story Pancho shared was of a seventy-five-year-iold man in the mountains of Tuito who has six or seven senses.  He knows immediately if he will ever invite you to return to his sacred property.  He invites guests to imbibe in his “special” water, and if they are hungry, he leaves for an hour or three, not returning until he has killed a deer or other animal for his guests.  He has a policy of never allowing anything from his land to leave his land, so if any “meat” is not consumed, he feeds it to other animals nearby.  I entreated Pancho to take me there one day soon.  I truly want to experience this “mountain man’s” energy.

Debi took me in to Vallarta in the morning, treating me to a Mocha at Starbuck’s drive-thru along the way.  The other day, we had purchased a delicious “envuelto poblano” (chili and cheese panini).  I’m not a Starbuck’s “frequent-er,” but I would definitely go for another “envuelto!”

I checked in at the Krystal, but had to wait until 4 to get a room, so I went into town to look at two apartments.  One was amazing, on a flat street, but the decline to town killed my knees.  With sore “rodillas,” (knees), I decided against Vickie’s beautiful rental.

Another, the inside of which I will view Monday, had a great view, including a rarely-used giant terraza on the roof, with tables, chairs, umbrellas, a gas grill, and a stove top!  Trenie was with me, and although I can stay with her for a pittance, also really liked this place.  We then went over to her house to try and straighten out her internet problems.  Forty-five minutes, and about ten dollars of TelMex minutes, we accomplished “nada.”  They are coming Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, and are supposed to give her an hour window with a phone call.  The verdict is out.

I rode the bus back to my 2-star “resort,” and fumbled a bit as I sorted through my pesos.  There’s a new fifty-cent piece the size of an American dime and with flowery edges.  It throws me for a loop because it seems like it should be worth a penny!  Why would any country have two different fifty-cent pieces?

The Krystal is a total disappointment.  I’m here on an RCI exchange, and spent my honeymoon here in 1984.  Nothing has changed - or been updated at all.  Every timeshare I’ve been to has had INTERNET in the rooms, dish soap and sponge, paper towels or a dish towel, salt pepper, coffee and filters, more than just a giant serrated knife, and above all - an ocean view. The casitas allotted for RCI exchange guests are less than a cheap single-wide mobile home.  I have an email in to RCI, and will call tomorrow!  Nonetheless, I tend to turn lemons into lemonade.

Warm gentle rain accompanied me on a sunset beach stroll.  What I love most about PV weather is the warm nights - rain or not.  As everyone else, I am obsessed with the melon, purple, and magenta sunsets, an almost nightly show all year round.  I also love the friendliness and helpfulness of her people.  At Sorianna (the big grocery store), I only had a 200-peso bill, but I needed another 37 centavos.  The girl said, 

“No worry.  200 is ok.”  I told her I would bring it the next day, and she said, “It’s ok.  I remember you.”  Indeed I had remembered her as well, from many trips over the years to this very store.  I walked out with warm fuzzes filling my heart. 

Valentine’s Day came and went, with a few “gulps,” as I watched lovers holding hands, passing roses, dressing in red, and twinkling with amor.  Some hopeful guy paid for fireworks to go off on our beach, as well as a ground show of lights that read, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby!”  He also proposed.  I hope she said, “Yes,” but I kept wondering if any other guys took advantage of the hopeful guy’s dime, lying that it was THEM that arranged the show for THEIR girls!

My son Daniel sent me Valentine’s wishes, and today I FaceTImed him for his 22nd birthday.  I cannot believe the little guy I took on in 1995 is now a professional adult music producer!  Technology has allowed me to stay connected to my 82-year-old parents in Pennsylvania, my four children, and my two nietas (granddaughters), Hazel and Violet, but I DO miss hugs!  It’s only been a week!  Is it all worth it?  Stay tuned for my “Week #1 Budget!”