Hubby and I walked to the village of Ajijic last night, something we do usually every night and at least once a day, about a 25-minute walk from our home here in Mexico, where we’re spending a couple of months. The bo-bos were out in full force, as they usually are at around 6 p.m., just before dusk. Zillions of those pesky, teeny, almost colourless flies swarm around you, especially about your face. They’re only out for a short time, maybe for a 15-minute period (not sure where they disappear to the rest of the day and night). You learn to keep your mouth shut, wear sunglasses, and swat your hands at them like a crazy person. We cut across the carretera and sauntered down one of the side streets, where the bo-bos didn’t seem quite as bad.
Carefully, so as not to trip on the uneven pebbles and stones, especially me who has a habit of falling every season and tearing my slacks and skinning my knee, we sauntered down the cobblestone road toward the boardwalk. (Yep, my yearly fall came early this season; I fell one morning last week and tore a hole in my favourite slacks and gouged my knee.). The waterfront was alive, a change from the previous night when, for a Saturday, it was dead. Children frolicked in the recently-made concrete play area, including a large, angled dugout about twelve feet deep in the centre. Little kids ran up the slippery slopes trying to get out of the hole, while others on the flat surface grabbed hold of their hands to pull them out. More often than not, the ones pulling ended up sliding to the bottom, too. It was hilarious. Further on, dare-devil skateboarders zoomed up and over huge concrete humps. Bicyclers, even more daring, soared across the high, slanted walls. Up and down, over and up.
After watching for a bit, we walked to the square where more crowds congregated. Tall Boys, a local band, were putting on a free concert. We sauntered around examining wares for sale before stopping at the corner ice cream parlour, which hadn’t been in my plan due an excess 10 pounds I’ve suddenly found myself with. But, oh, the cappuccino cone, full of huge chunks of chocolate—more chocolate than ice cream—was worth it. Hubby selected a bar on a stick, which, unbeknownst to him, turned out to be a frozen banana coated with thick chocolate and nuts. He said it was delicious, if you like bananas. Both for 24 pesos, about $2.00.
The walk home was tranquil and balmy. Night had fallen. Reddish brown ribbons interspersed with strands of white streaked over the mountains that seemed to rise from the lake’s edge. Flickering lights from the mountains appeared as thousands of stars, but only one lonely, large star twinkled from the massive black sky. “It’s the Star of Bethlehem leading us home,” I said.
I thought my comment quite apropos, since Christmas was two days hence. Hubby, however, said Bethlehem was too far away.
Merry Christmas from Mexico to all my friends!