Sometimes I get just a little more than I can handle. My frustration level is unbearably high, and I rail and curse uselessly. When we got our electric bill and then an idiot broke our window, I had one of those moments when I wondered why I moved. If those things happened to me back in the US, I would be able to deal with them in my native language in a culture where I understand all of the rules. Sometimes things seem just do daunting here. But whenever I am slipping in to good old-fashioned mean, Mazatlan finds a way to make it up to me.
Friday morning, the mechanic from next door stopped by bright and early on his way to get a price on a new rear window for the truck. It was terribly sweet, and I sagged a little in relief. I would not have to track down an auto glass place and negotiate prices myself, all while driving a car I would rather not drive with a missing rear window. I was free to get the car directly to the auto ba&ntile;o a few blocks away without any other worries.
The lavadero was sympathetic and did an extra-special, bang-up job of cleaning the truck and removing every speck of glass from the recesses in the dashboard and the crevices between the seats. I was really concerned about nasty surprises lurking to cut the dogs' feet when we took them for a ride, but he made sure I didn't have to worry.
I picked up the truck an hour later and brought it home to find the mechanic patiently waiting for me outside. He had a price for me on the window – a very reasonable price. He took the keys from me, and whisked my truck away to I'm not sure where. He brought the truck back an hour later with a beautiful new factory window professionally installed. There is no evidence looking at the truck that the window was ever broken. And I never had to leave my house to get it done.
And if the kindnesses and ease with which everything had been accomplished were not enough, Mazatlan had a special surprise in store for us at sunset. We went to our usual oceanside bar for a couple of Pacificos and to watch the nightly show. The day had been cloudy and the sky was already blushing when we arrived. I smelled the salty air and signed contentedly as I looked out over the Pacific – just in time to see a whale tail standing proudly above the water.
I have listened in envy as people told me tales of whales in the bay, but in the five years that we have been here, I have never seen one. Friday night, I got to watch a pod of gray whales frolicking in the bay. They stayed for more than half an hour, emerging every few moments to give us another glimpse. It was amazing to watch, and it felt like a gift just for me.
I love Mazatlan!
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