Semana Pascua and beyond

Next time I want to invite friends I won’t tell them to come the week after Easter when all is calm. Two reasons: First off it’s not. Semana Santa, which is the week before Easter is crowded. But the following one, Semana Pascua, also has its own name. That should have clued me in that it too would be busy. In fact it’s also packed here at oceanside PV. Somehow it works out that the group that second week replaces the young, single Spring Breakers from DF Mexico and Guadalajara with families from the same areas whose younger kids are on spring break .

Apparently you feel that change big time if you live in the tourist zone (Emiliano Zapata aka to gringos and other tourists as the Zona Romantica). Which we don’t. We live in a Mexican neighborhood. Both weeks were crowded here, but there was no major difference for us. Well it was a bit noisier than usual but mostly it was different noises — more people laughing in the middle of the night and cars showing off. It outdid the regular noises of dogs, pick-up & delivery trucks and the stereo early calls of roosters. By Monday a.m. of the following week life had returned to normal, but not.

That brings me to the second reason I’d reschedule on the invitation thing: The weather is getting muggy, hot and hotter&muggier. When we moved here 1 June a year ago after close to a year in Suriname, a relentlessly hot and muggy tropical country, we thought we knew muggy. HA! and HA! By July we were hoping for a let-up. By August we were panting. By September we were really REALLY over and done with the damn humidity, sweat and mold. By mid October we were moldy. By beginning of November we thought we had moved to another part of the world. Or, pardon the pun, had a sea change.

So begins the cycle of perfect weather in paradise that lasts close to 6 months. But now I’m S.A.D.ding and I didn”t think I would. Some snow bird friends are gone NOTB (that would be north of the border). Some activities have stopped and places shut down, but that’s not it. In Seattle we take that Seasonal Affective Disorder stuff seriously. When you’re sunless for months on end it’s no surprise to feel the loss of all the goodies we get from Vita D and sunshine. But here in paradise? I expect it’s the transition. My body is arguing with me about going out between oh, say 11 and 5. It’s complaining when I try to sleep, and I’m astounded when I go on the terrace at midnight and it’s not much cooler than it was 5 hours earlier. So I figure I’ll just do what the animals do and learn to live with nature instead of arguing with it.

I’ll let my body and psyche adjust and jump into the ocean to cool down, go to the occasional afternoon movie, seek out air-conditioned coffee houses to work in, and snuggle into the major PV contraction known in other places as Summer.

 

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