Mexico

Below will be a series of stories from our trip. But first, an intro!

But First, An Intro!

When I was about 15 we went on a family trip to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I bought the beautiful Mexican blanket I still have today, that sits here in my office and sometimes comes out on picnics with us (although I stopped using it in that way due to my realization of how special it is to me and my fears of leaving it someplace!!). 

Ever since, I have looked back fondly on that vacation. It was the first of a handful of special trips my family took growing up, that weren't just In State or Visiting Family--we went to NYC, Cabo, Phoenix, Hawaii, Disneyland, and Washington DC from when I was 12-21! I felt rich, doing such things. Cause before I was 12 we never did such things, and others around me came back from spring breaks with tans, and talked about airplanes and stuff like that. 

Of all the trips, Mexico always held my heart the most. I love the beach and the sun, we ate dinner at restaurants with our toes in the sand, adults got wild and I joined them in the Macarena (which was all the rage at that time), I remember the people selling the gum and the jewelry, I remember the jet skis on the beautiful blue ocean, the trip to the nearby towns that were less resort-y, the colourful blue tiled kitchen in our place and our view of the pool and the ocean, the time I ate the end of everyone's fried ice cream because they couldn't finish it but I could--and then some! I remember the boat ride we took through the arcs on the ocean, and that cute Mexican boy who I made eyes with all evening finding him peeking around at me here there that place that doorway--oh and I was peeking too. Where did he go? I always remember him. Oh I was lovesick for that boy for forever after that trip. We never talked, but you know how it is. I wonder if he remembers me?

Fast forward 31 years and I FINALLY WENT BACK! This time to Puerto Vallarta. This time with my own kids. Did my girls have any similar experience to me? I saw lots of boys around that reminded me of my boat boy, making eyes at the tourists haha. 

It's been a dream of mine to do these trips my family did, with my own kids, before they get too old with obligations of their own. Thanks to a number of factors I was able to finally make it happen! You know, something that you just long for, that you think is probably just a crazy dream...well, it happened!!

Have you been to Puerto Vallarta?

It's much different from Cabo. I wanted to go to Mexico City, to be honest, but the kids wanted beach--so this was a nice compromise of old world cobblestone streets and big waves.

We stayed in a condo out of the hub bub of the cobblestoned mazes, where it got much darker and much quieter at night--with just the sound of the waves crashing right there below our building as we slept! A 20 minute bus or Uber or taxi into town, with iguanas and lizards and beautiful yellow birds and large winged butterflies and funny crabs as our company. Plus, a handful of other Canadians and Americans on the property, along with many other Spanish speakers. 

The first morning I woke up there I went out to the living room to sit and just take it in by myself, while the place was still quiet. I kept hearing this weird clacking noise and finally realized it was a little hermit crab that had gotten inside and was walking along the cylindrical dowel sliding door stopper! It kept slipping, because of the roundness of the dowel--the wood would move around like when a person tries to balance on logs upon the water! A bit later I noticed it had gotten off the dowel and was on the carpet! I stood up for a closer look and it suddenly stopped to a complete freeze and tucked its little legs inside its shell so all it looked like was...that shell. If I sat still, it would move again. If I stood, it would tuck and freeze! Ahhh that little crab. Hilarious!!

Eventually it must've found its way outside because I never saw it again. However, it's possible others came in because I swear I heard that clacking at night as I tried to sleep in the huge king sized bed with the amazing pillows.

Anyway. The wildlife! Walk up the steep driveway from our building and look carefully cause those lizards or iguanas or whatever they are sure are camoflouged and STILL! And amazing to look at. Are they like the squirrel to Mexico, though? Like, a dime a dozen or something? 

You know how vacation can be--a little hard to get into maybe at times. We stayed for 10 full days and just as I was finally getting into a rhythm and feeling ok with afternoon siestas and ok with not "doing everything" and ok with "things not being how I'd imagined they'd be"...well, it was time to go home! Everyone else was ready. How dare they miss the rain? How dare they miss their friends? How dare they miss their own beds? (Oh, maybe I should be glad they love their lives here, actually.) I, for one, was Just Getting In To It. Plus, you should've heard my Spanish! I was chatting it up with those Uber drivers, now wanting to say "Si" and "Gracias" and phrases like "Muy mal" and "Donde estas" and all that...but, we're done! You should've seen the tan I was working on! I'm sure now as I begin to write this, 24 hours back in the dark rain of fall here, it's halfway gone already! My tan!!! Therese was impressed by it, and that's saying something cause that girl can tan let me tell you. Mine was better :-)

As we tripped together, and I stayed off screens and didn't even bring my computer, I did long to write about it. I had so many things on my mind, so many realizations and funny stories and wonderings I wanted to document. I'll see if they're still accessible now, so I can share them here for you but mostly for me, and for my kids to read through someday. We made a lot of memories there, and it's not leaving The Place that was hardest for me, it was leaving the Time Together (as fraught as it can sometimes be!) behind, knowing it will now live in our memories like my Mexico trip from 31 years ago. We won't look forward to it anymore, we won't be on it anymore, we will forevermore have the memory of it, the things from it, and the ways in which it changed us. Cause it did!

... 

"To them, you live in a castle"

Just below our place were three beaches, all connected and easy to walk between. On our first full day we tried them out, especially loving the beach at the end: it had the most waves, but was still calm enough to feel safe in. The Big Kids had gone inside by this point, so it was just Joey and Simon and I there, enjoying the variations of undulations up to the shore, bobbing around together watching Joey running from the water as it travelled up the sand to his little feet! Simon later noted that it really felt like a locals beach, as we were really the only tourists there. Oooh maybe a special treasure! Travel like a local! Isn't that what they say? Hey, let's come back to this beach every day!

These cute little boys came up to us at one point and gave us back a couple of buckets from the sand toys  bag we'd brought down--that we'd borrowed from the condo. "Aww, that's sweet of those guys," Simon remarked, "They can borrow that stuff if they want! Hey, no problem, thanks for giving it back!" and we'd smiled at one another. Myself, maybe thinking look here we are really mixing with the locals already hey this is great! 

Later, we get ready to leave. Only, we can't find Joey's shoes anywhere. "Are you sure he was wearing them when we came over to this beach?" I asked Simon, a few times to be sure. "Yep, cause otherwise he would've wanted me to carry him over all those rocks"--he was certain. I held out hope that he'd left them at the other beach and the Big Kids had taken them in when they'd gone back up. 

"Girls? Do you have Joey's shoes?"

Nope. So, Simon went back another time to check. It wasn't a big beach. The shoes were gone. 

He was pissed! "Someone took his shoes! I think it was those kids that took his shoes--and their parents were watching!" We live in the city, we know what to protect at the beach--money, phones, keep an eye on your stuff!--but...kids shoes?

Yeah, pretty sure it was those kids and the whole bucket returning thing was just some kind of cover. Joey's shoes were gone, and now we had a new problem of needing to get him another pair cause well hey we'd only brought the one pair and I'd only just bought them for him before the trip! Cute little green Sketchers with farm vehicles on them. And, the cuteness increased cause they (totally unplanned) matched his green bike helmet and the green zipper on his jacket!

That night there was a man smoking down by the pool at our building who seemed approachable and familiar in a land where we now felt kind of...out of place...maybe...unwanted. Gosh nevermind the romantic idea of travelling like a local we now felt like we'd been sent a clear signal by that beach and the people there to just stay in our own place--at our condo's beach. Simon recalled how no one really interacted with us, and "everyone was looking at us". So the smoking guy, well I asked him about that beach. Told him what'd happened. Here's what he said to me: "To them, you live in a castle. You can buy another pair of shoes for your kid." And the implication was: they might not even be able to buy the one pair.

He was right, cause that's what we were gonna do. And what an annoying task because we had NO IDEA where to do it!!  He also gave us a brief history of that beach, how it used to be very secluded but then some TikTok video of it went viral and it's the beach in front of this senator's house, this senator who was married to this super wealthy property developer in Puerta Vallarta and when people saw the beach could be used (apparently beaches are all public property in Mexico) there were busloads of visitors from as far as Mexico City coming Just For It. They come down during the rainy season when the whole pathway is a river, they pack it full of beach umbrellas every weekend and even moreso when it's a long weekend (as we ended up seeing). I read that as a big F-U to maybe the government and the developers--the regular people are claiming it for themselves, because they can. 

And, turns out, Joey's Sketchers are maybe a hotter ticket than I'd thought. I just bought them at the local shoe store in our neighbourhood where I always buy his shoes, remembering how when my 3 were little I could never do that--I had to rely on hand-me-downs and second hand only. But with Joey, yes I take him for new ones. The trying on is so fun. He runs across the store to show that they're good. We buy the sale prices for the most part, and they are good, sturdy, new shoes. I don't shop by brand, just find a solid pair to last him for the season.

When we went to the mall the next day (Simon's making lemonade out of lemons "Hey don't you want to see what a mall in Mexico is like anyway?" (ummm no that wasn't on my list but ok you do have a good point)) the shoe store had a few pairs of cute and practical knock-off seeming Spider-Man or whatever else options that Joey immediately fell in love with. We chose them and as we left the store I noticed that in the glass door-ed locked case of other shoes were things like Nike, Real Spider-Man stuff, and...Sketchers. Sketchers in the locked case.

So. You know what? I think of those cute little boys often now. They taught me something, they reminded me of something I had maybe forgotten or had buried. I'm not saying what they did was right--and who knows if it was prompted by them or their adults--but...I sure hope they're enjoying those Sketchers. They're just shoes, but sometimes that's really all you need. 

 

 

The Jungle

We had this one Uber driver Josue several times. He was very pleasant and friendly and it helped me get my mind off how fast he was driving by just engaging him in conversation. He gave us tips about restaurants and beaches, and even a river jungle hike we could take. I asked him if it would be ok with our little guy and at first he said no not likely but then when I told him he was actually 4 (like his own kids ages 4 & 5) --4 and just kinda short!--he continued with his recommendation.

I probably should've also asked him if my teenage daughters would be ok with it. Hahahahahaha!

See, so anyway we tried the hike out maybe the next day. I'd just been bragging to Simon about how much I love the adventure in travel. (I do!) The unknown. The newness. The strangeness of being in a different country. Ohhh I'd LIVE here, I bragged. (I would!) Just...no not in the jungle parts! See, I guess I realized what I meant was the adventure of the people things culture history all that...not, ummmm, the spiders. And the unknowns of, you know, nature. Yeah, we tried the hike. Joey was a total trooper and could've made it the whole way. In fact, he never asked for a shoulder ride "shoulders!" in sharp contrast to all our meanderings along the cobblestoned streets of town! Give him jagged rocks to traverse, up steep inclines or across water, and he's...fine. I mean, within reason. "Dada! Uppy!" Hosea, too. No complaints there. (Twas a marvel to the ears!) Ok, so the guys need this kind of thing. Ok ok ok ok.

The girls are keen hikers. Just, not when there are massive spider webs overhead with spiders "as big as Joey's HEAD!" on them. (Ok Therese I think that was an exaggeration but...) This wasn't really a tourist spot, although we did run into other English speakers along the way. I guess what I mean is, it wasn't really a tourist destination, in any official seeming way. It was kind of a hey I heard about this from someone how far is it REALLY up to those alleged waterfalls??? Simon had told us it would be 3 hours round trip. The girls kept quoting that. ""Round TRIP' is what you'd said. Not EACH WAY." It was turning into a long thing, or maybe it just felt long amidst the spiders. At any rate, we had one of those lovely vacation fights where everyone is tense and upset with one another, and we realize yet again that not everyone likes the same kinds of things or sees "vacation" in the same kinds of ways. We could've persevered, but I broke the seal and began siding with the girls. I wanted to to go back. I was feeling so uneasy. All those spiders! Where even WERE we?! There was garbage here and there and this weird pipe running along things it's not like it was some pristine natural wonder of a place. Plus there were barbed wire fences along the edge of the jungle where empty future construction sites or whatever they were stood awaiting. So much barbed wire!! I'd never seen such barbed wire. Travel!!

So, we all went back down. I think we'd made it over halfway, saw some beautiful pools of fresh river water, and people swimming. But, when Greta saw a spider IN the water as well, as we were crossing over it for the millionth time to catch the path that was now (again?!) on the OTHER side of said water well...that was it. 

I know Hosea would've gone the whole way. He had no opinion when asked, which meant YES. But, when Simon went back later that afternoon to do it on his own, Hosea's interest had waned. Simon got to have his moments alone-ish in the jungle while I took the kids to the ahhhhhh how civilized pool and beach.  

He found the waterfalls, swam briefly but not too much cause he too was a bit sketched out by it, "Hey, it was deep and there was really no one around under that waterfall..." and he got to take lots and lots of photos along the way without girls squealing behind him to hurry up there might be a SPIDER what are you looking at NOW?!!! 

Ahhhh. Vacation! 

 

The Ubers-ers Think They're Driving Mario Cart or something like that...

You know what? The traffic was nuts in Puerto Vallarta. And NO ONE honked a horn! Drivers would just wave one another through, like hey after you no problem. (Is that what our neighbour was referring to when he said that in Mexico everything is "manana"?) The streets in town are narrow and hilly and there are no traffic lights (at least, traffic lights are rare). When those Uber drivers get to the open road of that winding two way street up the mountain and along the coast to our place, well wow do they hug those curves with a terrifying speed -- that is, when they can. When they can't, they tail the car or bus or motorcycle ahead of them with a vengeance. A vengeance that said to me, hey no no no no no do NOT pass that vehicle there is not time plus don't you see this is a SOLID line between our two lanes and doesn't that mean the same thing it means back home? Doesn't it? Ok, so no Uber ever did any crazy passing. But I swear, they wanted to.

I kept panicking over how to tell them to slow down please, in Spanish. Without pissing them off. I've been with crazy drivers before, and sometimes making requests / suggestions about their speed just makes them want to drive...crazier.

Also, Simon doesn't drive. So I'm always in the driver's seat if we have a car (unless we're on the e-bike!) and I have trust issues so yeah let me be in the driver's seat please I'm a GOOD driver! I promise. 

But Carlos, you were the best. On our last night I had wanted to just "can't we take the bus back tonight, instead of an Uber, guys?"...I mean, I didn't want to die on our last night there. How tragic that would've been!!! Please! We got this guy Carlos. An angel! He drove so responsibly. 10 and 2. Reasonable speed. Reasonable slowing down in advance. I told him hey thank you, YOU do not drive too fast. In my broken half English half Spanish way. He smiled with pride maybe as much I was smiling in relief.  

The buses were a trip too. The bus stop by our place got loaded up with garbage, even though there is a sign that even in its Spanish we all knew meant hey people do not leave your garbage here don't you see there's no receptacle for it? Bags of garbage. Leftover food. Broken wine bottles. All of it accumulated over a few days and had grown each morning when we went back out to wait there for our beloved bus. Then one day...it was gone! So. Anyway, more about the buses themselves: I swear they barely close those doors before they start going after picking you up! The stops are not very distinguishable. And cars can park there--at the bus stops!! Taxis too! So sometimes you have to walk around the parked cars kind of out into the street in order to get on the bus. They always wait for you, though. All of it: NOT like in Canada. And the playlists those bus drivers played were so fun. Party time! Definitely not allowed here.

Anyway. When I flew home I stayed much more calm on the plane than I ever had before, grateful I at least wasn't in an Uber anymore.

 

 

Waves

I remember jumping waves in Mexico and Hawaii, and that feeling of such joy! Over and over and over and over again! Always a new wave, a new variation. Always a bit unpredictable. Kind of addictive: you don't want to get out of the water for fear you'll miss the next good one!

Ahhhh just writing this makes me miss those waves.

I was more of a chicken, 46 year old me compared to 15 year old me...even projecting this chicken-ness on my kids hey don't go out too far oh no those waves are too big watch out there's a rock there DON'T DROWN!!!!!!!!!! "Mama, we know how to swim." "Mama, I swim out farther than this at camp / with Papa / since I've been like 5 years old." Ok ok ok. But I'M not going out there!!!

So, I stay closer to shore, but kind of right where a lot of the waves are BREAKING so they're not super high anymore but they're super strong. And they kind of knock me around. If I'm sitting down, they kind of MOVE me around, against my will, running my skin along the sand. 

Hmmm. Maybe the kids have the right idea?

Eventually (and by eventually I mean days and days into the trip) I venture out farther. I summon the girl I used to be, that one who was a little-bit-less of a chicken. And I remember.

Better than all that, though, is watching my 3 Big Kids bond in the waves. They look at each other and smile and laugh and yell, "Oh here comes a big one!!" and "Watch out!" and they check on each other. They pair off in different ways sometimes, so one of them comes in closer with Joey to just feel the water creep up to the toes (that's what he liked best). The girls spend HOURS out in the waves together just CHATTING about who knows what! They don't do that often. Lots of these ways of interacting don't happen super often (or at all) when there aren't any waves involved. When there isn't any vacation involved.

I do sure miss those waves.

The sand up the swimsuit, though...not so much! 

 

PS Maybe we should go to Tofino soon. 

 

Chiclets

I never bought any, but I wish I had.

Not just because chiclets are actually kind of yummy, and come in all those different colours in those tiny little packages, but because the people I saw selling them could've probably really benefited from my buying them.

In Mexico it gets a bit tiresome, constantly being bombarded by people trying to sell you things. Have you been? Do they do that in other countries? (Probably.) The ethical implications are something to spend time thinking about. As a tourist economy, the region we went to relies on, well, tourists. Rich(er?) people coming from elsewhere to spend their money on some fun. Those rich(er) people might be Canadians, Americans, other Mexicans, from elsewhere in Central or South America or beyond. But, the point is presumably they are coming from farther away and have the resources to "take a holiday". 

The women I saw, faces wrinkled to the max, sometimes with no shoes, or with wrapped feet and legs due to injuries of some sort...they are not going on holidays with the money they get from selling chiclets.

One woman I saw was sitting on the ground in a sketchier part of town, barefoot, leaning against some electrical box on the sidewalk, half heartedly extending her box of chicklets outward as people walked by. I didn't see any takers.

Like here, walking by some people for whom we should probably show more compassion? How, though? I'm not sure.

Another woman came through some of the market stalls selling the gum. She was so browned and wrinkled by the sun and looked very very old hobbling around. I noticed that the woman running the market stall actually bought some from her. In fact, I noticed some of those market stall people buying other things from the people walking around selling.

Simon and I got a bit guarded and jaded, especially after our initial scam. We hardened our hearts, perhaps. A bit too much, perhaps. Seeing parents(?) selling items with their children after dark, children coming up to us as we sat in restaurants(!) (yes, over the railings of the outdoor space, or on the beach if at a table in the sand) over and over and over and over and over again, selling things we had NO INTEREST in! Wondering why do they come back they already asked us?

We are already spending our money here. Contributing in some way(?) while, yes, enjoying ourselves. A strange position to be in.

The woman I'll remember the most, though, came ambling into a restaurant in the town by where we took our snorkeling boat. We were eating at a restaurant there after our trip, as part of the ticket. She came in, maybe about my age or younger, with her 4 year old looking son with her, carrying his truck and holding her hand as she offered some little wrapped pastries. Her face nearly life-less. Pock marked and wrinkled from so much sun. Not the holiday sun, the out all day working sun. I wondered how long her son would spend with her doing this. He reminded me of Hosea, a bit of a bowl-cut, truck in hand, mom's hand in hand, she looking as tired as I often felt towing him around places. Not to work, though.

No one bought her little wrapped pastries. We were already getting food anyway.

She left, on autopilot, to the next place, as one of my kids got their heaping pile of pancakes with whipped cream and cherry on top.

 

 

Saved the Best for Last

Maybe like in life in general it always feels like we find The Thing right when time's run out. We found That Beach! I finally got into a rhythm of being ok with relaxing. We had "our spot" for ice cream, and a great restaurant to try again. Someone told us about some other place we should try. We watched sunsets and realized how many more we could catch but didn't.

That last day Simon and I went down to the beach right outside our condo, first thing in the morning --together. We hadn't done that yet. If we could've stayed I would've done that some more. "It's so quiet down there" he'd said, having gotten out before me, "You wanna come down?"

Still, tho, I swam in the pool with Hosea nearly every night, or at least accompanied him. I swam every day, got so good! Especially during the mid-day siesta when everyone else was checking out on screeeeeeens (no, not ruining this with a post on screens but I'm tempted!). Anyway, I'm not a great swimmer, but I realized it's just because I rarely swim. Get in the water, sure, but SWIM? Doing a lap of the crawl stroke tired me out that first day, but by the end I could do 10 nearly across that pool without stopping.  At least I found that Thing early on, and I savored every second of it.

 

 

That Time I Felt Like A Refugee But I Was Really Simply A Very Privileged Tourist

I wanted to sort of re-live that boat experience I'd had in Mexico as a kid. Not the looking for that boy part, but just the boat itself, out on that water. The exploration and adventure. Somewhere I'd snorkeled once (perhaps in Hawaii) and I wanted the kids to get a chance to try it out. Hosea had been asking for the ziplining and ATV types of "excursions" but that's hard to do when it's (mostly) only him that wants to. Snorkeling, though, that was an excursion we could try.

So Simon and I booked this boat snorkeling tour. With a private guide.

It started in a beautiful area, I think some kind of fishing village. Definitely hit by tourists but in more of a quiet way, where it was REALLY OBVIOUS when tourists would come in, making their appearance. Tourists like us, I guess. But when looking at THEM I couldn't relate. Weird.

Anyway, the guide took all these great photos of us before getting on the boat--it started off so fun and funny and lighthearted (for me). Hahaha I laughed when he had us throw our hands up in the air for one of the photos. (Is that on their website now?)

Then, we got on the boat. 

Not a super big deal, we just stepped from the dock to it, with a little help as needed. More help for Joey but ok fine.

We start going and I start freaking out. I haven't been on a boat like this in forever, it's kind of like a speed boat, the life jackets are not super great or even the right fit. I cry. I think I will need to get off this boat, like a ride at the amusement park "Please let me off!!!" and the whole thing stops for me and I'm not even ashamed cause I just want so badly to not be on it anymore.

The guide is very empathetic and caring, and he checks to make sure I'm ok, gives reassurance for what we will do, that we will not go too far from the shore, all that. No one else is scared. But at this point I might rather be on an airplane.

Greta, the one who knows the most about these kinds of fears, she is so so so empathetic and careful. She starts talking about how some of her friends are more afraid of boats than planes, and how she can't understand that cause she's sooooooooooo afraid of planes but she (apparently) LOVES to be on a boat! I know what she's doing. And it's working.

Her chattering away calms me down. I ask if anyone else is in the least bit scared. "No" they all tell me, ranging from eyes of empathy to eyes of what is WRONG with you anyway? Either way, they're all there for me. I get acclimated. I don't ask the driver to turn the boat around and drop me back off at the dock!

I do get a little sea sick though, and feel like one of those cartoon characters from a Disney movie, green face hurling over the side of a ship. I don't hurl, don't worry. But I feel like I might, especially when the boat is stopped for the snorkeling and I stay on to keep Joey company...and we're just lulling back and forth on this water in the hot hot hot sun while everyone else looks for fishies. This is why we did the ride, hello Megan! For the snorkeling! Endure it!

I do. I endure it. Simon and Hosea snorkel the longest, as expected. And they both eventually get creeped out by the closeness of the fish, and even though they're friendly enough they do not trust the situation and feel a bit out of place that up close and personal. So, they don't stay in for too too long.

In between snorkeling dips, the driver suggests we stop off at one of the "hidden beaches" advertised in the tour. I guess at my request cause I'm so nauseous I don't know if I can take another snorkel wait around. They intend to drop some of us off so the rest can snorkel some more. But when we get to the place for the drop off I realize ummm hey guys there's no dock here(?) like ahh what was the plan? The waves are pretty good, and they can't get the boat very far to the shore so after a panicked moment of what in the world do they think I'm just going to SWIM off this boat through these waves to the shore(?) they say, "We're actually going to look for a different beach where we can get the boat closer to the shore for you,"--"Ok, thanks" like ummmm why is this a criteria? Not What I Was Anticipating would be an ISSUE! It's ok, though, I'm pretty sure I can trust these guys they know what they're doing.

 

Next beach. 

A little better. A little. A little little little bit better. 

Point of no return though, hey we're supposed to check off the "hidden beach(es)" portion of this tour at SOME point aren't we?! The guide takes our stuff that we want to bring to the shore with us, so he can use his savvy skills of getting them there without soaking them in the ocean. Cause, well, again there's ummmmm no dock. "Make sure you give me the items you want to bring to the beach," he announces again. Ummmm what if I don't want to go to the beach after all? I think? 

One by one the others in my family start getting off the boat and swimming in. There are big waves here too, I mean bigger than I'm comfortable with. There isn't really a ladder option of getting off the boat. I mean, there is, but it's pointing in the wrong direction (what are they thinking?!!!) so instead we just hand Joey to this big guy who's part of their team--hand him across the big waves to this total stranger who will then walk him up to the shore! Joey is NOT a fan of swimming, or showers, and has been looking like how I had been feeling (the green face part). But, he totally trusted that guy and did not complain AT ALL. He made it to shore before me.

Take note, Megan. Take note.

My turn! "Ok, so I just need you to sit up here on the edge of the boat and I'll catch you," says the big guy in the water. "Sit up there?!! What?!!.....How do I even...how do I even get UP there?!" And then I have this push from deep inside myself, in this tiny moment of do-or-die (not really but) and I think of things like refugee boats I've seen on the news washing up to shore, desperate people doing whatever it takes to get off that boat and make land! Storm or Waves or Not! Handing children over! And...I just do it. And he just catches me in his big strong arms no problem and delivers me to shore.

 

Big surprise: we had to do it again to get back on the boat, in order to get back to the dock. And I did it. And Joey did it. And those guys, well, they knew what they were doing. I could trust them.

And I could trust myself!

But, would I want to do that again? 

No thanks, I can see the hidden beaches from the boat. I wouldn't want to miss the fresh coconut with the spice and lime on it, and the straw to drink the milk but. Let's set the record straight: in no way was I a refugee. And at the same time, we've got to do what we've got to do. I was reminded. 

 

 

You're walking us to a Closed Bakery?!

"A 'vacation' with Mama and Simon just means lots of walking!" I overheard. This was after...lots of walking. In the hot hot sun. Along the wind-y cobblestone streets!! Amidst the beautiful old architecture!! Hearing the Spanish and the music and smelling the food.

"So, where are we going again?" they asked me. At this point completely drained. We were about to call it a day I mean...a morning.

"A bakery! ...it's closed right now but..."

"You're walking us to a Closed Bakery?!"

 

At that the tension from the complaining and the not-finding-it ceased and I laughed. 

The Big Kids, in their little clique, they laughed. "She's walking us to a 'closed bakery'?!" "Oh, it's ok guys, we're just looking for a 'closed' bakery!" "'So, what'd you do in Mexico?' 'Oh, we walked forever to go find a 'closed bakery'."

Hey. I think we found it. We saw the storefront.

It was...closed though. So we didn't eat there.

And! Despite my initial plans, we didn't go back to find it again. On a day it was open.

 

Saw a lot of town, though! That's for sure. I think the kids even got another soda out of it, too: their favourite Squirt or Mexican Coke. So, there's that! 

 

 

Vacation Personalities

Some people want to sleep in, just lay on the beach, lounge about, have some down time

Some people want to catch up on books or shows or articles or projects

Some people want to set an alarm, walk the town, buy the tickets, eat ice cream every night but not at "home" and no never at the same place

Some people want to adventure and seek thrills

Some people want to see how much money they end up not spending

Some people want to spend every last cent cause that's why they saved it!

 

 

Scammed -------- Scammed 

We didn't do much research on Puerto Vallarta before our trip. Just the basics, like was it safe enough and why would people go there, a little bit about top attractions and general ideas of things to do. I wanted to wait until we actually got there to really decide how we'd spend each day. We also were on "spoiler alert" not looking at too many photos of the place or watching any videos about it. We did, however, watch one and only one: a "do not do this in Puerto Vallarta" kind of video. Just to be ready and aware, visiting a foreign country and all.

Most of the tips were innocent things like, "don't only eat at restaurants" to get you to try the food trucks. Things like "don't just stay in your resort" (if that's where you're staying). Others were more objective, like...don't get sucked in to the Shark Tank at the airport.

Do you see where this might be going now? We didn't!

Yeah, so the video highlighted how once you get off your plane and thru customs and all that, well, watch out for the Shark Tank. Instead of getting delayed there, just Keep Walking and catch your taxi or Uber outside. Apparently these Shark Tank guys were all about selling you Time Shares. Just Ignore Them!

Ok, I remembered the whole go outside and catch your ride there thing. I did. So something felt off when we passed thru this very busy area, totally exhausted and overwhelmed and excited about our travels thus far having only just landed and gotten through customs. Customs, by the way, was wayyyyyyyyyy easier than US or Canadian customs ever are. Just Put Your Phone Away(!!) and show us your documents, make sure you aren't bringing any chicken or other fresh foods in, and go on your merry way. No invasive questions. No wondering where you're staying and for how long, what do you do for a living, why are you coming here, what's in that bag. Just, well, pretty reasonable. So, maybe we were so pleasantly stunned by that experience that we had our guards down?

We didn't just pass thru after that to head immediately outside to get a taxi or Uber. We......got sucked in. Some guy, Esteban it turns out, wooed us with promises of a ride! "I can get you a ride that's much cheaper than the taxis or Ubers. Just stay here. You don't want to pay that extra. We'll give you a deal." Ok? Before we knew it he was hypnotizing us with a map of Puerto Vallarta, circling things for us, quickly talking with his intriguing Spanish accent, so we couldn't quite keep up. We fell under his spell! He was promising a ride, but not only a ride! Also! A snorkeling boat trip (yes! on my loose agenda anyway!) a tour of the Malecon (yes! on my loose agenda anyway!) all at: "Normally this costs *some astronomical amount* but we'll just charge you *this ridiculously lower amount*" ----- oh! Oh were we wow-ed. And tired.

This guy was smooth. Once he'd kind of hooked us he kept on with the schmooze. Finding out I was American and Simon was Canadian, he sweet talked Simon (possibly assuming that since he was the male he'd need to be especially swayed, is my thinking) with "Oh, I like Canadians so much better. So much more kind and polite. Always prefer the Canadians!" (What?!!!!! I mean, call me ethnocentric but usually people say Americans are more friendly. And...that's my experience as well!) Simon's face, though. So tired, so At The Mercy. Ok fine, Canadians are better, whatever, this guy's giving us a deal! "And who doesn't like to save money?"...we heard that line many-a-time in Mexico. This guy next to Esteban, behind the counter where we'd all been led to by this point, he took a break from what he was doing to make sure and tell ME how great of a choice of a place to stay I'd made, having overheard from Esteban where we would need a ride to, and gathering that it had been ME who had booked the place. Oh, sure, keep working your spells on us! YES I DID choose a great place, thank you very much, oh look your womanly intuition was right on you (stupid) American woman hahahahahaha. I fell for it, he was charming me. What can I say?

Before we really agreed to anything, I look at Simon and try to kind of catch his real eyes, not his glazed over eyes. Like, hey wake up do you REALLY think we should go for this deal? (Or should we just go outside and get a frikkin taxi and then choose our excursions later?) No, no earth-to-Simon he was gone. He was hypnotized, or just way too overwhelmed. The kids, apparently, had their spidey-senses out though cause after the fact they were like really guys? Don't you think we might be getting scammed? "Yeah, they were offering people tequila shots right next to us, didn't you see?" they told us later. Ummmmm nope we didn't see that. We were under the spell hahahahaha. 

We didn't sign anything (or did we? did we and they kept the copy cause we sure didn't get a copy of THAT part!) and it turns out that just before we gave allllllllllll the money Esteban tells us the catch. The Catch being: you'll get all of this for a really good deal and in return all we ask of you is that you come to our resort tomorrow. "Our resort is locally owned and operated, and the place you're staying probably isn't--we want you to support locals." (*oh gosh another way to Get Me sucked in* must support the locals!!! not some big corporation!!! but wait, we're just staying in a condo so(?)...wake up wake up wake up!!) "We will pick you up tomorrow morning and bring you to our resort, and all we ask of you is that you listen to a 45 minute talk about our property. Then, you can feel free to stay there as long as you'd like! After our complimentary breakfast. We have a pool, we're by the beach, you can use our spa, have access to our water sports equipment." Wow my eyes had stars in them what a first day this would be! Too good to be true!!

 

Too good to be true, whoops that line was kind of buried somewhere behind all the pesos I then counted out from my pristine wallet full of untouched cash to be spent on our vacation. I counted out those pesos, thousands of them. Never having really touched pesos before. Seeing all the colours flash before my eyes as I handed them over. They didn't take credit cards (ha!) and...they didn't write down how much we gave them either. It was close to $500 CAD.

Pretend you didn't read that last part.

Anyway, then we were escorted like royalty out to our ride, not joking. Like royalty. So. The woman who escorted us said, once we got outside, "Oh, I'm sorry it looks like our Suburban isn't available right now. Are you ok with our Mercedes?" Ha!!!!!! 

I felt like royalty so I was tickled by that question, not yet realizing it was all part of the manipulation. "Simon did you hear that? Are we ok with the Mercedes?!" Oh gosh what a naive sweet summer child I was in that moment. The intrusive thoughts of having been scammed were started to bang around in everyone's minds though at this point, moreso than before. But hey, we already gave the money! Just give the money and run(?) I mean...get what you paid for? A totally unnecessary ride in a Mercedes van from the airport.

It got us to our place safe and sound.

 

Later that day, though, Simon keeps looking at the little paper we were given. Something's not right. He starts searching up about this online, you know like on Reddit threads and stuff like that. 

We got scammed! Sure, we could go tomorrow to that resort, do the tour and politely tell them hey no we're not interested in a Time-Share thank you very much we're really not that rich! But, horror stories online shared how sometimes those 45 presentations turn in to whole day affairs and it's nearly impossible to get out of there! Then, you have to go back two more times for the excursions you signed up for with them, providing TWO MORE CHANCES for them to try to sell to you! Given how horrible we were at this first test, well...would we have the cajones to actually be firm and flat out with them? And who were these people? What if we were saying no and then at the mercies of their rides they took us to some weird place to disappear us cause we declined the Time Share? (Ok far fetched but come on. A neighbour there told us not to ride taxis at night 'cause they're not tracked, Ubers are' so....)

Nothing on the receipt with the amount paid. It said we could get a half refund but ONLY IF we go to the resort and ask for it. Esteban had made it very clear that it was of utmost importance that we attend his presentation, "That's how I will get paid," (really?) "So please please, honour the commitment and show up tomorrow." (Do people actually NOT show up? My sweet summer child hypnotized self had wondered when he'd said it how people could be so...flaky! How rude! (Ha!).)

"I don't think we should go to this thing tomorrow," Simon said, looking at the little paper, the only evidence we had. 

And that's when we all woke up, shared our spidey-senses that we'd initially ignored or--in the kids' case--didn't really have a chance to voice in time. We realized we'd been played. We'd fallen for the Shark Tank!!!

I was expecting the Shark Tank to be more obviously advertising Time Shares! Like, their signs would've said Time Share and they would've used the words Time Share over and over in their pitch and we could've said no thank you we're not interested in a Time Share just looking for a taxi thank you very much! But! It wasn't obvious.

Like, duh. That's how it works. 

Long story shorter, Simon had Esteban's number on that little paper, and so he sent him a message politely changing our RSVP to Regrets. "We've made other plans for our day," he told him. Such a kind Canadian! He'd wanted to just not answer when Esteban Came To Pick Us Up the next day but I convinced him to please let him know in advance. I mean, I didn't want some Time Share Cartel(?) Salespeople just showing up knocking aggressively on our door in the morning! Scary! (Not likely because the security in our building was pretty good but...) Esteban was savvy, true to form, with several replies back trying to convince Simon otherwise. But Simon was firm and consistent and clear. 

We didn't go to any of their offers. And the rest of the trip Simon (especially) was vigilant, let me tell you! He was tortured and haunted by this event for the rest of our time there (and likely will be for the rest of his life!).

------------------

We almost went to the resort on our way to the airport, just to try and get our money back, explain how we'd been taken advantage of. I wasn't sure we really had a leg to stand on, plus--as I have mentioned here--and Simon kept pointing out--there was no "amount paid" on our receipt. So, we just absorbed the loss and earned the wisdom! Shark Tank Smarts! 

-----------------------------------------------------------

10 days later:

Checking in at the Air Canada counter, for our return flight, started becoming an oddly long process. Our round trip tickets had us on West Jet for the trip over, and this airline for the way back. After a long wait, wondering why they were still holding onto our passports, the woman behind the counter asks us how many bags we are checking, to which I reply, "Oh, none, we just have carry ons" yes indeed we packed smartly! Even with room for souvenirs! (Would someone tell Esteban, and his friend?? So they can be reminded of how smart I am??) The woman behind the counter then looks at us with concern, about to pass some sudden news I'm thinking: "I'm sorry, you don't have carry ons for this ticket." 
What?!!! Since when did airlines not allow carry ons? Isn't it still only recently that checked bags AREN'T included on your ticket? I didn't want to pay extra for checked bags so we packed smartly someone please tell Esteban! "Ummm ok well we need to bring our things home," (duh), "So...what can we do?" 

We had to pay nearly $500 CAD to bring our bags home, was what we could do.

Full circle, airport! Mexico ("But Mama HOW can the government just Let Them have that Shark Tank thing right there INSIDE the airport?" my girls had asked, when they'd fully realized we'd realized we'd been scammed INSIDE the airport under the full consent--seemingly, cause Customs was right next to it--of the government!) and Canada! I guess I needed to read the very fine print with the unexpectedly ridiculous and new to me exclusions on the already pricey tickets!

Well, after our first scam we just decided to enjoy our trip anyway.

And hey, at least Air Canada had TVs so after the second scam everyone was, again, pleasantly placated.

Just $1000 poorer. 

Grateful that it was do-able, scams and all. 

Soldier Cars and Guards

The first morning there we went to this great breakfast restaurant in the town. Stacks of pancakes with fresh fruit! Chilequiles! Oh it was hot in there, hey no air conditioning. But we were hungry cause we didn't really know where to get groceries, what with not having planned very well. We had a kitchen! Just didn't know where to get stuff to stock it! (We tried an Uber eats kind of thing the night before, but realized our place was kind of out of range. And in hindsight maybe a different app was more common there? Simon pulled a mission walking in the dark along the busy road to a little restaurant nearby with kind-of-gross overpriced American style food, so we could sleep with almost full stomachs that first night.) So yeah, we were hungry.

At one point I noticed out the window an army tank just driving on by with armed soldiers--pointing their weapons out--just driving thru town on a Tuesday morning! No one bat an eye, I mean except us. "Wow, you guys see that?" Did I feel safer now, or?.....yikes those weapons. Those were big.

Another point there was this little girl across the street waiting for the bus with her mom throwing the most massive fit! The mom had such patience, the girl was hitting her, kicking her, screaming, crying, yelling, really making a scene. It went on and on and on and on and on. "Wow that girl's giving you a run for your money, Hosea!" I said, knowing he no longer pulls those kinds of shenanigans. Well, he does, just in an 11-year-old way now. Waiting for the washroom with the boys a bit later we catch the eyes of a couple of the waiters, they're looking across the street at the girl still throwing the fit, kind of smiling. I guess it's more amusing and unexpected than the armed soldiers on the military vehicles? One of the men points to Joey, like oh I bet you know about those kinds of fits! I say, oh no, this guy!!--I laugh, and point to the older son, half English part Spanish mostly hand motions and faces to show oh no it's this guy, he's got that kind of stamina! The waiter laughs, he's probably about 10 years older than Hosea, and pretends to give someone a spanking! Hosea's face! Priceless!

Twas great. Our first morning in Mexico. 

Saw those armoured vehicles many a time and never got used to it! Kind of like Hosea's fits! Now, both a fond--and slightly unsettling--memory. 

 

 

That Night I Thought I Was Going To Prematurely Perish By Being Shot By The Cartel

This one night, early on in our trip, Simon and I got sucked in to some wondering about just how safe this area actually was. I'd read it was tops, in terms of a vacation spot in Mexico. Safe BECAUSE it's a vacation spot so the Cartel--working alongside the government (apparently) clamps down on any non-Cartel-sanctioned funny business, immediately. Comforting?

Strangely, yes.

We'd had a busy day, were still thinking about the whole shoe thing, and yeah, feeling a bit uneasy in this foreign place. Not super seasoned travelers ourselves. So we were searching some stuff up and talking about it.

Suddenly we hear these really super loud sharp and strong shots go off over and over and over and over again. Suddenly!!! We look at each other, like wtf is happening, both--ok, well speaking for myself--scared. I'm like omg what IS that?!! Simon's like oh sh--! We hear it again. It sounds like it's right outside our place, coming from somewhere really close. I'd never heard this kind of sound before, in real life. 

I started envisioning blood along the beautiful tiles of our unit. Our blood. Like in some drama. Some pristine scene gone gory with the shock of gunfire. I started thinking where are we going to hide? That dead bolt doesn't look very strong! Besides, doesn't gunfire go through walls and stuff? I bet it's those guys, those scammer guys. Who knew we were going to die in Mexico. We should've just stayed home!

All of this flashes across my mind in, I dunno, 60 seconds? The kids aren't even aware--amusing themselves with screens at the end of a long day, Joey playing somewhere in his own world. I start snapping at Simon to "DO something!" "What?!!" "Call that number!" "WHAT number?!!" "The one in the binder!" "What binder?!" "The RED one!" "I don't know about a red binder!" "The RED one! Why don't you pay attention? Don't you know about the red binder?!" I'm scrambling trying to find it, trying to find the page I'm talking about. I don't have cell service so hey I'm off the hook WHY DOESN'T HE CALL THE NUMBER?!!

Then, he goes: "Hey, I don't hear anyone yelling. I think it's nothing. People would be yelling."

 

I've never heard him say anything more smart and helpful! It was almost like he'd found the red binder and called the number without my even suggesting it...hahahahahahahahaha.

 

 

"Oh my gosh you're right."

I was so relieved. So. Relieved. My life re-appeared before me. I was in Mexico, on vacation. "I think it was fireworks," he says, "They have a lot stronger fireworks here I think."

They.....do. We looked it up. It was just, fireworks. Coming from somewhere for some reason, but hey why not it was Mexico?!

 

 

A few nights later we heard that noise again, looked down the beach from our balcony and saw them. I didn't need the red binder that time. I smiled instead, and went about my evening, shoo-ing away the memories of my former insane binder shrieking self. 

Ahhh, vacation. 

 

 

That Time I Cried During That Time We Had Our Date In Puerto Vallarta 

It wasn't that big of a deal. Simon and I realized we were all safe enough so why not go out on the town without the kids?

We did. 

We ran into lots of interesting things, what with all our walking around everywhere without having to listen to anyone complain! One thing we ran into was all these people dancing to the most iconic of vintage Mexican music. At least to my mind.

"Oh let's stop for a bit and watch! What are they doing?" I said.

"It looks like...they're dancing."

"Can anyone just go in there and dance?"

"It looks like...you might have to tip the DJs, maybe wait your turn?"

We watched them, along with so many others, watching. Were they waiting their turns? Could we just go in anytime we wished? Oh LOOK at that couple over there! They're so good! And that one, Simon do you see them? Ha!

I'm daydreaming that I'm them, I'm those couples. Dancing with such ease. Looking like they are out of some Hemingway novel set in Cuba or something like that (is that a thing?) unbuttoned shirt, wrinkled tan, drink or something in hand, beads swinging, mostly of the older variety (snowbirds? no, more local than that...) just dancing. 

"I...I'm not really a...dancer," Simon tells me. Preemptively, it seems.

Noted. I know that. Just...for a brief something maybe you can NOT be not much of a dancer? Get me out there! Dance like no one's watching hello don't you know that line?

Who CARES what we look like! It'll be all about what we FEEL like and it will feel GREAT! Oh YOU you don't think you're much of a dancer but I know it's in your genes. Plus what kind of musician can't dance?!

My bubble is bursting though, even more when I hear a timid, dare-I-say half-hearted, "But I'll go out there with you."

I hesitate too much. He's not a dancer, I know that. Will it just be...frustrating? Will it just ruin the fantasy I was having? I think it will.

My hesitation said too much.

"Wanna go walk around some more?" he asks me.

"Sure," I say. 

And then, I just can't help it. I start crying. He doesn't know until I'm forced to talk and then I just let it all out. 

That moment where you love someone and of course you don't want to be with anyone else but come ON if ONLY! If only they could dance like the way that person (me) dances with that person in her pretend little world of dancing to vintage iconic Mexican music! In Mexico (or anywhere else) no less! 

That moment where you just know you just don't get to have EVERYTHING and there might be some things you long for in life that you just don't get and I think maybe I just relished the longing and took a little comfort in how that made me feel. To acknowledge it, and let it go.

He's not a dancer.

And really, am I, even? In my little pretend world: yes. Yes. I. Am. And that'll have to do.

 

 

46 

On my actual birthday In Mexico! My gift was to get to walk around and shop without anyone complaining.

At least, that was the idea.

 

Did they pull thru? 

Mostly!

 

And then later we had a lovely dinner out. It was so loud, but it was lovely. Children were trying to sell us weird light up stuffies. But it was lovely. I was tired, I'd made everyone walk around a little too much. And beach, we beached that day so we had sand everywhere. 

But it was lovely. Lovely cause I kind of almost didn't even keep remembering it was my birthday, cause it all was just so lovely and I had my loveliest of people with me all day and I knew at the time I'd always remember this one. Turning 46 in Mexico, with my whole family. 

It was so lovely; I didn't even need to karaoke <or dance>

 :-)

 

And Now, An Outro 

I don't think it's a special idea that Mexico might possibly be openly run by the Cartel. It's just, it's more known. Openly talked about. So, I'm not trying to throw shade on (I have teenagers) the place by pointing that out. And I'm also no expert on the place (another real popular phrase these days!) like duh that goes without saying. Having these thoughts leads me back to the idea that, well, it's very likely that most governments are run by / heavily influenced by such organizations. Some just hide it better than others.

Some say that Canada is "so sanitized". We have rules posted everywhere for everything, so many permits required for so many things, we are quiet-er, more subdued, more the black and grey wearing type not the bright coloured type. More the yes it's true passive aggressive type, and not the type to say, "And who doesn't want to save money?!" I really enjoy thinking about cultural differences, and place, and how it seeps into us all. How there is such variety in the world. How places end up how they end up, and how they're changing all the time. It's fascinating.

Growing up my best friend was Mexican. Her family welcomed me like one of them--I was always over! I remember the large gatherings with the food, the sounds, the smells. The decor at the condo reminded me so much of all my time at her house. The feeling of the tile floor under my feet. So, maybe that's why I feel so at home in Mexico--and have such a longing for it in the in-betweens, however long those in- betweens end up being. Plus, as they say in dating: opposites attract. The place awakens something in me that oftentimes feels so dampened by the blacks and greys, the sanitization, the rules and "safety" and familiarity--sometimes I just want to toss all that into a big ocean wave and jump in!  

Hasta la proxima y muchas muchas muchas gracias, Mexico.