The Rains

Yesterday the rains began. It has been a dry season around here and despite the fact that all the vegetation looks bright green to me, everyone tells me that things are dry. Very dry. Try visiting California if you want to see dry, I think to tell them, keeping my mouth shut as I remember that I am a guest here.

When the rains, it pours. I know, I know, it’s trite, but trite is true for a reason, you know. Yes, tautologically speaking, because it’s true. The rain just comes down in buckets and everyone who has been out on the streets or in the plaza runs for cover under one of the many overhangs that can be found in the town. Folks just wait it out, standing there next to each other, chatting and becoming new best friends. You couldn’t ask for a better time. The sky brightens with lightning then comes the crash of thunder, followed by a renewed surge of rain. If you are lucky enough to be near the Paleteria Michoacana (popsicle shop), you can chat with the amiable Salvador and his wife Eva to pass the time while eating a frozen fresh fruit concoction that will send you into a seventh heaven. I’ll note here that you can find a Paleteria Michoacana in Vallejo on Broadway just before getting to Tennessee, more or less across from what used to be Pluto’s. It’s not the same, but the paletas are pretty delicious, nonetheless.

This morning, when logging in to the internet to post, I discovered that Blogger logs you in to the closest network, which is, as you might expect, in Spanish. Add to that the relatively slow connection speed, and we have a situation wherein the uploading of pictures is difficult at best and downright impossible practically speaking.

Last night we went to Cenaduria Led-Mar, a venerable lunch place on the plaza that has only recently begun to serve dinners. I’m surprised by how many dinner house have closed here in town, but then again, I’m always surprised at how few choices there are for dinner. I had the chicken tacos while my dining and traveling companion had the pork taquitos. What was not to like about sitting under an umbrella munching crispy taco things slathered in Salsa Huichol, the local hot sauce, watching the rain come down? Under such conditions, even the lowliest meal will taste delicious. The beers are ice cold and arrive at your table with the merest flick of a finger. I’m glad this isn’t an auction where I’d be obligated to buy the entire town by this point.