Market day dawns hot and sunny and ocean calm. We are set to take the bus down to the market again. Let me tell you about the buses here in Mexico. There are so many different types: old, new, ratty, bullet-riddled, plastic seats, cushioned seats, iron handles, rusty, beaten, newly painted, shiny, Primera Plus and ETN! You can ride the city bus for 60¢ (more like 55 CDN). Very often, we are entertained on the bus. Anyone can do this. Clowns do an act that is very amusing for the locals. One person (often played by a young boy) uses a gravelly, high-pitched voices and the other engages him in a conversation about gringos, which the non-gringos find hilarious. You also get preachers who warn of the dangers of not following Le Seigneur’s word. One gets on and plays a lovely, haunting tune on his guitar, collects donations, then begins to lecture. It’s a very clever ploy. He has a very interesting face – long and thin, pointed ears, native roots, arresting eyes. His presentation style is mesmerizing. The bus drivers will stop anywhere to pick someone up or let you off – we assume they are paid a percentage of the fare. They will sometimes screech to a halt or veer off suddenly to do this, so you must always be prepared by hanging on tight. One very young driver weaves like a maniac between lanes, around other buses, passing trucks. Another cuts off a couple of vehicles and they retaliate by stopping in front of him to close off the lane and getting out to tell him off.
Tonight is potluck by the ocean. We look forward to this weekly camaraderie, laughing and talking and eating in the sea breeze under the stars.