The Procession

From our second story perch, we rested or read or drifted in and out of afternoon siestas while daily Sayulita life came and went, on the streets below us. It's neither quiet nor loud -- just life.

We don't even look up when a shrill burst of a trumpet blares from down below. Likely a passing car, with the volume cranked up. Then the single trumpet is, one by one, joined by a chorus of other horns. Crisp, clean and strong. I look at Nic, excited thinking about what it might be, it sounds like live music!

He shakes his head.

I sit. The horns overpower every other possible sound. No birds chirp, no babies cry, no motors hum, no other sound exists but their slow tune. I hop out of my seat to the balcony just to see.

"You guys." is all I can whisper over my shoulder.

The cobblestone street below us is a sea of silent people. All, slowly walking, down towards the sea -- to the playa de los muertos. All, intent on the road ahead and the cream colored Escalade that leads the procession. Behind this simple procession of people, behind the rickety truck carrying two walls of red and white roses, come the band. Shiny gold cowboy shirts, tan slacks, slicked hair and horns, belting with all their might the song that hushes the crowd (and tourists alike).

We sit in silence, observing theirs. It's breathtaking. An honest and personal moment, suddenly shared to all. A glimpse into someone else's life. A glimpse into someone else's death. No poetry to quote, I only had a cliche feeling of being "inextricably bound" to my neighbor in that moment. We talk of dia del los muertos, the comparatively ornate tradition of caring for the dead, the bittersweet belief that on that day the departed loved ones walk among us once more, and just the seemingly relative comfort with death that's distilled in hispanic cultures. It seems like it's not something to fear, but merely the passing of life, into...the next stage of that life, death.

(Very guiltily I sneak a couple photos after they've turned their heads so we'll remember this moment.) Sometimes, in the midst of travels and the desparate pursuit of relaxation, it's easy to forget that around you continuously swirls the lives of others in their own unique way...and long after you're gone, the dance continues.

As promised..

Here's the video of the dancing horses, live music and just general partying going on last night.

¡Viva Mexico!

¡Viva México!

I was pleased to discover that we accidentally traveled during a holiday season here in Mexico. As Wikipedia can attest, a common misconception in the United States is that Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Independence Day. Instead it is actually September 16, which is the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico. The party really begins on the 15th of September.

According to the young doctor that treated me earlier in the week, the 15th is when Mexicans celebrate by performing what he called "The Shout." The purpose, to honor Hidalgo y Costilla’s battle cry declaring a revolution against the Spanish (oddly enough, his cry wasn't recorded, so nobody knows precisely what was said). It is actually formally known as Grito de Dolores (or the Cry of Dolores which is the town where the cry was made). He made this declaration sometime in the night between the 15th and 16th so in proper fashion, citizens of today flock to the streets in the evening and revel into the night. A huge amount of people flocked to Sayulita to celebrate. I can only imagine what it was like in a large city.

Things got started as the emcee shouted
something and then the crowd responded each time with an enthusiastic "Viva!". It then ended with Mexico getting the viva treatment three times. What ensued after that both delighted and amazed me. However, I don't have the pictures or video to show you -- and I just can't put what we witnessed into words, but I will give you a hint. The good news is Nic got some of it on video and will share it with you once we figure out how to use youtube. :)

The following morning it was the children's turn to show their appreciation for their country. Children from various grade levels lined the streets while they performed color guard ceremonies, patriotic recitations, and a shout of their own. After this, they gathered into the plaza for traditional Mexican dances and re-enactment of the beginning of the revolution -- which incidentally ran roughly a decade after the initial shout in 1810.

Everybody was draped in the colors of the flag, but this little girl's dog really took the cake. Other's marked the occasion by wearing green, white, and red streamers in their hair. One thing I've learned over the last 24 hours is that Mexican's really know how to throw down. This town transformed overnight from a sleepy village to a crazy party overnight and then back again -- just in time to show a sublime respect for the history of their country.

From what I could tell, before both last night's and this morning's reveling came a public history lesson. The speakers blared to the packed plaza the events leading up to Mexican Independence. If only I understood Spanish then perhaps I could have learned something. What I did learn however, is that the story of how this country came to be is hearts and minds of every citizen and there is no reason to think it won't make it to future generations.

That big package from the store.. (Pt 3)

As anyone with a modern laptop knows, they run hot. So hot in fact, that manufactures no longer call them laptops, but instead 'notebook' computers, because unless you are wearing asbestos pants, having them on your lap just isn't going to work.

As Eric pointed out, a real part of this trip is to get some work accomplished as well and sometimes there just isn't enough counter space. These MacBook pros run so hot that often having them even on a tablecloth seems a bit unwise. Commercial cooling solutions are available but we are in Mexico, so we had to come up with something else.

Which of course wasn't hard, since we still have a giant bag of inedible wafers. A little bit of carving with the knife, and presto, we have an elevated platform to help our high performance computing run as cool as the night.

Thanks inedible wafers!

Modern Conveniences

Walking through Sayulita for the first time it definitely feels like a town that time forgot. I can only imagine what it was like a short 10 years ago before it was generally discovered as a tourist destination. A few different times we've discussed what we would miss the most if we picked up and just moved here. Jen focused on supermarket item variety. It's true that the scant amount of items in the grocery store can get your attention. However, I think I would gladly forgo half of the aisles at Safeway for fresh pineapples, mangos, and avocados. Throw in some warm tortillas waiting for you by the register and it makes it easier to forgive the store for not having 30 different kinds of napkins.

Nic seems to feel perfectly safe taking the plunge especially knowing a big town like Puerto Vallarta is only an hour away by bus. I personally think I would miss the fresh cool air of the pacific northwest the most. That, and I'm pretty confident that I will never be an accomplished enough surfer -- or at least I'm not willing to put in the time to become one.

Even with its homes sans walls, poor plumbing, and plethora of beach peddlers, Sayulita still provides enough for even this geek to feel comfy. I mean, with WiFi and a laptop it's hard to feel too terribly disconnected. I've not let it interfere with my goal of feeling unplugged for the brunt of this trip. However, this is the first time since I've had kids that I've been away from them for more than a weekend and being able to video conference with them by virtue of the internets is good for all of us.

This town almost forces you to have a laid back vacation. So much so, that my number one goal for the day today was to do some laundry. And by do my laundry, I mean pay some nice lady $45 (that's $4.50 USD) to do it for me. It does make me feel a little bit guilty. I guess I should try not to feel too much guilt as my tourist dollars are greasing the wheels of this small town economy. Between the daily housekeeping, eating around town every day, and the laundry service we are doing our part to help folks provide for their families.

There are many parts of Sayulita I wish I could bring home with me. While Sayulita may be short on modern conveniences and variety, what it does provide it does so very well.

Hard at Work

As most of you know, none of us down here have a job. I guess we are all a bunch of lazy lima beans.

That's not to say we are without responsibilities though. While we spent a good chunk of our first week relaxing and letting the lazy flow like a busted sewer pipe into the Pacific, eventually we will start spending some time actually doing something that perhaps might resemble productivity. While some may say it's a shame to spend even a minute on anything other than hardcore vacationing, it's not fair to call a lot of what we do here "work."

One of the beauties of working for yourself is you work when, how, and on what you want. This allows you to work at a higher level than what is possible when work is shoved into a cubicle at a typical nine-to-fiver. Not only does this generally yield higher quality, but higher productivity as well. And besides, we've got the best office around.

Escorpion

With Joya's arrival we have now moved to the second floor of the building. It's quite a bit more spacious and has two full bedrooms at the sacrifice of not having as much outdoor space under palapa roofs. One night just before we left and as Eric was going to bed he commented that he had found a scorpion skin in the bathroom. Although we knew they could be found around here, we hadn't seen any signs of one yet. I went to check it out and sure enough it looked like the carcass of a scorpion moving up in the world, but I thought just maybe I saw it twitch a bit. I quickly nudged it with my finger and it was off, starting to scurry about. This was hardly a large specimen, but they do say the smaller they are the more dangerous, so we made sure to give it its proper respect.


In the end we used a door stop to put it out of its misery like the overgrown bug it was. All this served a nice reminder as to why flip flops are the footwear of choice here, as scorpions can't go hide in them at night for a morning surprise.