She Said...

It all started at noon on Thursday, August 14th. The thermometer showed 36oC (that’s equivalent to approximately 98oF in the U.S.) in the shade. I had to go out to the airport to pick up a friend of ours. As I had some time to kill (even without knowing that his flight would come in late), I figured I would take the day’s issue of the Tribuna de la Bahía with me, to read while I was waiting.

By the time I got there, the car was hot, despite the air conditioning unit working at full force. True, she is 8 years old… I noticed -again- that they corrected the sign that used to read «Nice Trip», which never made much sense to me. Now it says «Have a Nice Trip». That’s better. I walked into the terminal, expecting -and looking forward- to be hit by a wave of cold air, like usual, but that was not to be. As we were all standing there, madly fanning ourselves with whatever we could as the drops of sweat trickled down our faces, I got two different explanations from a couple of the young men waiting for clients of their travel agencies. One was «the air conditioning is not turned on», while the other was «the air conditioning system can’t cope with the all the hot air coming in each time the doors open» …which is every few seconds. Whatever the case, it was most uncomfortable.

I looked around for a place to sit. No such thing. I looked for the screen that normally shows arrivals, it was dark. Nothing there. I asked one of the airport employees if any of the screens were working, she told me that the one at the other end of our now expanded, huge international airport did. As I had already walked the entire length, upstairs and downstairs, looking for Starbucks and a cup of espresso, I was in no mood to undertake the trek again, especially considering the fact that I had put on high(er) heels to look nice for my friend.
I still wanted to sit down, so I went to the little bar nearest the time share enclosure through which all international passengers must pass before entering the airport lobby per se. Having already had my espresso while perusing the various shops on the upper level, I figured a would ask for a Coke Zero, for my friend, which would entitle me to a chair. They don’t carry Coke Zero, and no, I could not use one of their chairs if I didn’t want anything else.

Two gentlemen, airport employees both, were sitting there. They invited me to join them, despite the waitress’ menacing looks. I accepted and we started chatting. «Isn’t is stupid,» one of them asked, «not to let anyone sit down? The other day, I had to go up to my office to get one of the chairs there and bring it down for an old lady I thought was going to pass out. We do our best to welcome the tourists so they’ll have only nice things to say about Vallarta, and look what these bar and coffee shop owners do!» He’s right of course. But who you gonna call? The airport authorities obviously don’t care. I saw an «older» couple sit on the floor. They just couldn’t stand any longer.

«And when are they going to install a clock?» I asked the two fellows. They burst out laughing. The older one asked me if I remembered the huge digital clock that was up on the wall above the now disappeared escalators. I remembered. It was never connected. I think we have the only airport in the world without at clock anywhere. On the other hand, that shouldn’t surprise anyone, especially when we’re talking about the only city with a parking garage built on prime beachfront property.

Getting back to the events of that day, my friend’s flight finally landed, everyone came out of the time share «obstacle course» safe, sound, and unscathed, and we both drove into town to have lunch at ViteA (he had missed it a lot since his last visit a couple of months ago). As we passed the main square, he exclaimed, «They still haven’t painted over that ugly Hooters sign!» Our lunch at ViteA was excellent - as always. It was a beautiful day.

As the evening approached, another friend -with whom we were going to have dinner at Maximilian’s to sample the special Greek menu they’re offering this month- called to tell me that it was raining way too hard for her to attempt the perilous descent from her aerie up in Amapas. A few minutes later, the cloudburst hit Alta Vista.

Some of you may recall the flooding I experienced throughout the house last year at this time. Back then, it was the water and the mud coming down from the various unfinished construction sites up in the hilly Amapas area. Stuff that had previously been absorbed by the earth, the trees and their roots growing in it, now replaced by cement and concrete. But now it was different. Now it was clean, clear rainwater that came in so fast and furious that the city’s system could not cope with it. So once again, out came the brooms to sweep the current of water out of our living room and dining room, and out the front door …while the big bath towels were pushed up against closed doors to stop the water from entering the various rooms along the way. In the middle of it all, one of my kitties found herself stranded in a tree, during the worst part of the downpour. She was terrified, screaming hysterically, which is why I could hear her above the sound of the storm. By the time I got her down, she and I both looked like drowned rats. As I told my friend after it was all over, I felt as if I had gone through three full routines at the gym, not just one. Needless to say, I slept very well that night.

My colleague, T.J., sent me an email referring to what he called our «monsoon season» (some 6 inches in a couple of hours!!!). He wrote: «As a result of the heavy downpour, it would be interesting to check out some of the local underground car baths, er - underground parking facilities - at the new condo projects in the area.» If anyone out there has any juicy information to share on this topic, please don’t hesitate to send us a little email.

When the rains stopped, and my satellite feed of the Olympic Games reappeared, I heard the frogs sing. What a wonderful sound! The background track was provided by the crickets, or cicadas, I’m never sure.

The next day, when my girl Enya arrived, she looked around the house and said, very nonchalantly, «you had another flood, I see.» «Yes, we did, how can you tell? Just because the floors are immaculate?» «Yup.»

We got another rainstorm two days later, on Saturday, but this time, I was a little wiser. I set up my own version of sand bags (using crunched up plastic bags) to block all the entrances the rain might take into the house. There was no rain the next three days, but we did get one of the most impressive, spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen. We always talk about how many nuances of green the mountains sport at this time of year, but that night it was the blues that were incredible, and the fiery red separating those of the bay from those of the sky and the clouds above.

These last few days, the air has been as clear as could be. Every ridge on the mountains on the north shore could be seen. The mountains that surround us are more beautiful than they have been in years, and the Cuale River is powerfully charging forward, running for the ocean, as if it were competing in its own Olympics.Have a wonderful week, dear readers. Keep well and take care of each other. Hasta luego. pvmom04@yahoo.com