Monthly Archives: April 2011

Semana santa

Thanks to someone for catching this at Los Muertos beach

This is our first Holy Week and Easter Week here in Vallarta. Having been here in December with one party after another and the astounding marches on behalf of the “Virgincita” for the first 12 days and nights of December, we were looking forward to the same mellow atmosphere. A mix of Aztec and Catholic. Mmm. Probably not from what we’ve seen so far.

Rather think Ft. Lauderdale at spring break meets Rio for Carnival. You’d be a lot closer to the look and feel of PV right now. Thursday, through Sunday is considered the height of it. It being beaches packed with sunburnt kids, families, singles, party-goers mostly all from Mexico city and Guadalajara, some folks with light fingers, and lots and lots of drunks. It also refers to traffic jams, crowded stores and sell-out crowds. Despite diverting buses and bringing on minivans, traffic is already close to a crawl and the Malecon is packed.

This is the time when folks from the inland and mountain areas flock to Mexico’s beach towns and the coastal locals head into the mountains and inland. Musical places. Not much holy so far, but Good Friday is still to come. Hopefully good happenings for local business as well. It’s the last hurrah before the heat, humidity and rains sends Vallarta and Vallartenses into summer hibernation.

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Strawberry Magick

In 2002 I participated in a writer’s workshop. One of the activities was to take things like an emotion, a color, a fruit, a feeling, etc. and write it on a small piece of cardboard. These we put in a little bag and a take-away was to pull two whenever and write a paragraph using the random matches. As I waited at the airport to catch my flight back home, I was bored enough to try it. I was so astounded that anything appeared on the page that I kept it.
So here’s a random post if ever there was one. Exactly as it poured out all those years ago:

Strawberry Magick

At the airport the sounds of people -- excited, angry, loud, hushed.  Babies cry. Old woman next to me sits, eyes closed in a still quiet so profound it touches my shoulder hushing the nearby maddening crescendos of clatter and roar.  Not even her quiet overpowers the drama of the loudspeakers:  Security…Boarding Pass…Final Call..Arrival of Flight 1783…Unchecked.  The bellowing tries to push away last night’s dream where I pressed the wrong button and shook our house loose from its foundations. A shaking so powerful it reached the neighbors house and loosened it.  I awoke fearful. Alfred assured me all was okay because we had insurance. "Even if I press the wrong button?"  "Yes, even if you press the wrong button." I was comforted knowing that with my magick I could tumble the underpinnings of our house, reach beyond our strawberries, past the cherry tree, across the grass, beyond the fence and into the once solid foundations at the far side of our neighbor’s lawn.

Strawberry magick.  Covered by insurance.  Where shall I use it next?

 

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