Dia de Muertos, Part One

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In Mexico the whole Halloween thing is overshadowed by a more ancient version of the holiday: a combination of All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day called Dia de Muertos (“Day of [the] Dead” — which this year is today, November 2nd). On this day the Mexicans celebrate the lives of the people they’ve lost, with altars. The altars typically have a picture of the late dearly beloved, as well as bottles of whatever libations and vices the person preferred, favorite foods, and symbolic objects.
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The Tale of Eleven Tacos

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I’ve been eating in Mexican restaurants for a zillion years, but I didn’t know how ignorant I was about Mexican cuisine until faced with multitude of unidentifiable foodstuffs in the Mexican supermarket. Dried beef? Tripe? Hominy? Pozole? Menudo?
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Bouncin’ on the Blue Bus

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We live right on the beach, so when we go downtown or uptown, we take the blue bus. For 45 American cents, we can go just about anywhere we need to.

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The Great Coconut Harvest

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I’ve written earlier about Los Tules, our home for six months — a former coconut-palm plantation, complete with fear of coconut missiles falling from sixty feet. Amazingly, there’s no concussion wing at the local hospital.

How do they avert danger (and certain litigation)? They harvest the coconuts by climbing up trees with machetes between their teeth.

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Gringo Bars — A Research Project

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We have so much time in Puerto Vallarta — six months! — that we’re determined to spend a respectable part of it pursuing worthy causes. After all, there’s only so much hangin’ out by the pool that a person can endure.

It is with these lofty intentions that we have embarked on a research project that will benefit all our soon-to-be-visiting friends. With benevolence in mind, we have set out to explore PV’s gringo bars.

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Doing Nothing? Nothing Doing!

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I am a caged animal, strapped into a hot, sweaty sling, with a healing wound on my shoulder. It’s too hot to sit outside when a girl can’t swim, and I’m too cheap to sit inside in the air-conditioning for long. So I pace back and forth. I bead, and read, and pace again. I’m eager to go somewhere and don’t feel like it either.
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Frogger for Keeps

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The street that fronts our apartment at Los Tules is named Boulevard Francisco Medina Ascencio. It’s a long name for a long street. Walmart is on this street. So is Costco. You can buy a Ford or a Chevy on this street, or souvenirs at Señor Frog’s.

With all that industry, it’s no surprise that Ascencio is not only long, but wide — eight lanes wide. Eight lanes of rattly buses, death-wish motorcycles, and cars — lots of cars, all traveling at homicidal Mexican speed. We cross this road almost every day. Our nearest grocery is on the other side of Ascencio and crossing it is like playing the game of Frogger — for keeps.

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Surgery in Puerto Vallarta

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Just arrived in her private room, Louise smiles with anticipation.

Just arrived in her private room, Louise smiles with anticipation.

October 10, 2013, 6:30 AM
I awaken to our warm bedroom. The bedroom is upstairs and heat rises. We don’t use the air conditioner up there because it makes noise and we prefer to hear the surf at night through the open window. In the kitchen I fix one cup of coffee — for myself. There will be none for Louise as today is the day she is scheduled for surgery.
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Bring It!

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Sometimes when you go to visit friends in third world countries, you are asked to bring something desperately needed and locally unavailable. Peanut butter. Clinique cosmetics. VooDoo Donuts.
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She Got a Coffee Maker, After All

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Well yes: you can Google Walmart and read about their oft-quoted unfair labor practices in the US, but in Mexico — where benefits aren’t expected and a living wage is a fraction of what’s required in the US — people love the place. It’s only about two miles up the road. Naturally, we had to pay it a visit.

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