Sun Day is the best day of the week. A whole day at the beach in the warm sun. And I love the palapas. It really cuts down on the amount of planning you have to do. You just show up and there is a table and food and drinks just waiting for you. No lugging of picnic baskets and folding furniture. What could be better?
We always go to the same palapa. Once we get our table moved where we want it on the sand and get settled in with a cold Pacifico and a snack, it's time to do some serious people watching. There is always something to see on the beach. Young men strut and girls try not to get caught noticing. Kids dig in the sand and chase pigeons. There is always at least one dog having a great time. In the late afternoon, a pair of boys usually shows up that goes back flipping and hand springing all the way down the beach and into the water.
There is always one old couple that you can tell has never been to the beach before, never seen the ocean. They guiltily take off their shoes and stand at the shore, giggling like children when the first wave creeps up and washes over their toes. Some retreat after that, but most hold hands and bravely go into the ocean – fully dressed. It is such a treat to be part of that wondrous moment, if only as a remote observer.
I have discovered that there is nothing more therapeutic than digging my toes in the warm, soft sand. I spend the whole day digging trenches with my feet, then covering them over, then digging them again. It is so relaxing! Chuck has suggested that we should build sandboxes under our desks.
One of my favorite things about Sun Days is seaside shopping. And endless parade of vendors come by proffering goods from shoes to tattoos. I have bought hammocks, anklets, sunglasses, purses, beach bags, CDs, and hand puzzles. One of these days, I am going to buy one of the kits that include a plastic pail and shovel and build a sandcastle.
I love talking with the vendors. I can't even imagine how hard it must be trudging up and down the beach in the deep sand all day in the sun, but they are always friendly and cheerful. Many have come up some pretty good opening lines: "Almost free today!", "Want to see some overpriced crap?", "You need souvenirs for the people you don't like back home." A laughing customer is a buying customer.
There is also a great array of edibles to choose from: fresh tropical fruit diced in cups, mangoes on sticks cut like flowers, donuts, and cookies. The is a man who drags an old fashioned hand cart of homemade ice cream and cones. One memorable man supported an enormous tres leches cake on a platter on his head. All the food vendors carry napkins, spoons, plates, forks – whatever you need to eat whatever it is that you purchased. This is very civilized beach sitting we are talking about.
I am always on the lookout for two particular food vendors. First and foremost is The Flan Man. His wife makes the best flan, ever! He carries around little individual plastic cups in a 5 gallon bucket with ice. You can choose from 5 flavors: vanilla, pecan, coconut, cream cheese, and Kahlua. In my previous life, I never would have guessed that heaven comes in a plastic cup. Live and learn.
The other vendor I look for is a man who is both mentally and physically disabled. He stumbles from palapa to palapa across the sand, weighed down with cookies and empanadas, festooned in a garishly colored shirt and a cowboy hat with the string tied securely beneath his chin. He is always carrying one small bag of each of the treats in his hand. If he goes too long without making a sale, the repeated bashing delivered by his lurching stroll renders the contents of the bags to dust. The empanadas are soooo good, even if they are broken. The crust is light and flaky and golden...enough to make my little Southern heart weep.
In addition to the entertainment the vendors provide, there are also actual entertainers about. Many mariachi bands will pass through the palapa during the day, offering to sing a song for a fee. I don't like having someone singing at my table. It is loud and awkward. But I love it when someone else has them play. The music is always performed with skill and passion.
The exception is one guy who walks around with a boom box to which he has hard wired a 6 volt battery so he can play all day. He turns the volume way up and croons along, usually to the greatest hits of Jose Alfredo Jiminez. He fancies himself an opera singer, but he just isn't. Not even close.
His method of making money is extortion. He goes to each table and absolutely will not move on until money is thrown into his cup. I have learned the trick. Whenever I see him coming, I get my two single peso coins ready. When he is in range, I slam them into his cup. Really, this is not to be rude. If he doesn't hear at least two coins jingle into his cup, he stays. He is so awful! I feel sorry for him. But if I ever find myself needing to sing for my supper, I now know the trick.
Last week a young group of native drummers stopped and performed for us. We jammed to a great beat while one of the band danced. Afterward a pretty girl worked through the crowd accepting donations. Nothing pushy. Just here's the hat – want to put something in it?
Late in the afternoon, everything slows down. Few people remain in the water. Most sit on the beach or tucked under a palapa, taking a collective sigh and the end of another wonderful Mazatlan day. We all sit, relaxed, alone and together, and watch the sun blaze its way past the horizon. Then it's time to go home.
Sun Day rocks!
