There are a ton of Canadians in Mexico. Like ten to one versus Americans, it seems. And Quebec—what is the deal with Quebec? Does that whole province just get to leave for six months of the year? The population there must drop by half in the winter. The Americans down here like to call Sayulita “New Canada.”
With Semana Santa—the big Easter holiday—coming up in a few days, the gringos have fled for home. Whole cloth. It’s said that the beach turns into a swarming mass of ten thousand Mexican families who come down from their homes inland. We are actually anxious to see the spectacle—especially since we have such a nice spot to lay our heads down at night.
Ouest and I were out surfing today when a lady who was taking a lesson paddled into a wave right next to us. I held Ouest back and let her go by, but as she did I could see a look of anguish on her face. The wave flipped her over head first and when she came up it was obvious she was hurt. She turned to her instructor and pointed at her shoulder. It was quite clear—even through her rash shirt—that it was separated. Oh man, that’s nasty.
The instructor and I reached her at the same time—he looked at me and asked, “Do you know how to put it back in?”
“Ummm, no. But I’ll carry her board in for you.”
We walked her up to the beach and she sat down with her friends while the instructor ran off to find the lifeguard.
I imagine her day did not get much better from that point.
We have continued our beach bum ways. It can quickly begin to feel like a way of life—like a rhythm that there is no reason to disrupt. Wake, play, eat, beach, surf, eat, sleep.
Ouest is loving her daily sessions, and catching a ton of waves. And Lowe is enjoying being pushed in on some ripples too, though he isn’t inclined to stand up just yet.
No pavement. No problem.
The OXXO (convenience store) getting ready for a wild week. Holy week. Religious holidays make me chuckle.
Watching a baseball game. The kids are constantly asking me to tell them stories. Oftentimes I can’t think of one, so I go to my fallback story about Babe Ruth. It’s 90% fiction, concerns a boy named Timmy who is in the hospital, and a promise by Babe to hit a couple of home runs for him to make him feel better. I elaborate a little more every time I tell the story (it’s become a very long story), and the kids absolutely eat it up. Now, every time we see a baseball player they ask if it is Babe Ruth. When I tell them no, they say, “Awww, when can we go see Babe?”
Good form. I love that moment when I lose sight of her on the other side of the wave, and then boom, she pops up.
Normally I’d say this is not our scene at all, but for Holy Week (actually this is just the lead up to it) I can totally live with it. The crowd is fun. There are tons of families, three generations deep, as well as a younger party crowd. But even the partying is pretty low key. Some music, some beer, some food, and some laughs. It’s a fun vibe, and we’re happy to be here and be a part of it.
Local style. Micheladas and shrimp brochetas.
The girl has a lot of skills.
18 Comments on “New Canada”
My husband used to tell our kids lots of stories, until our daughter went to school in the second grade and told her teacher and the class that her dad invented the exclamation mark. The story went something like “until then no one had any excitement in their lives…”
I can picture Ouest and Lowe sitting on a bench with their baseball teammates telling them the story of Babe and Timmy. That will be a fun day.
Great story! Love the pictures. Especially the one of the last supper, with the doggie. Most of us Canadians don’t know what’s up with Quebec either. Every country has a rogue province or state…
And Judith’s comment is priceless! Exclamation mark and all.
Loved the picture of Ouest exploring the virtues of cat vs. mono blades 🙂
What a great post and excellent pictures as usual. I can’t get enough Bumfuzzle, even the comments rock!
Thanks. I was always a little unsure about adding comments to the blog, but I must say, you’ve all been a fairly civilized bunch—mostly.
Yep. Nothing quite says Easter like a 12=pack of Dos Equis or a masked Jesus drinking Corona. Fun pics!
Mark and Cindy
Heh . . . Yeah, especially when the masks are Lucha Libre hood masks! 🙂
TJ
It sure looks like fun in Sayulita! Oh, and the other half of Quebec is in South Florida.
Funny. I don’t doubt it for a second.
Gotta ask what’s up with the masked last supper guys..combining Passover, Last Supper and some Voodoo/Mayan something??
Those are lucha libre (wrestling) masks, and they are everywhere in Mexico. As for the religious stuff, well, that’s just easy to poke fun at.
When are the kids going to get POGO sticks?
Maybe on your computer you can stream The Sandlot for the kids. Never met a kid (or grown-up) who didn’t love it…….
Wow – I gotta say I love that photo with the Mexican couple. I’m not sure what it was about it, but just took my breath away. So much love there…..or maybe something else, but I’m gonna believe it’s love. 🙂
PS – I just had a PTSD flashback of being at anchor in La Paz off the Malecon during Samana Santa two years ago…. Between the chaos of the partying and the La Paz anchor waltz I don’t think I slept all week!
Katie and Mark
They were talking, smiling, and kissing, for a few minutes before I picked up the camera—so yeah, you can go with the love.
What a beautiful place. And that head shot of Lowe… wow is he ever growing up.
Happy Easter Bums!
I am starting to read your comments, they are often good. Sometimes I wish I could indicate that I like them. I love the comment with the story of the exclamation point. We will have to go back to Sayulita and stay longer. I wonder what the Micheladas are.