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The Best Baja has to Offer - Textures of the Peninsula
Baja Is for Everyone Essay Entry
John Michael Sullivan
Living the Textures of Baja
I have now lived full-time in La Paz, BCS for two and a half years.
What do I think is the very best time the Baja offers? Quick now, take a guess. No. Want a hint? The answer is both obvious and subtle, and refers to something that occurs on a daily, on-going basis.
Here’s the answer. Savoring sights, smells, sounds and textures of the Baja are the best time to be had. And the people of the Baja are the very best part of this experience.
Contracting the state of mind that I call “being Baja’d” is helpful in the pursuit of these pleasures. Among other things, the signs and symptoms of the condition include: sleeping more soundly than you have in years, slowing your tempo, and forgetting what day it is. Warning! This delicious malady is not fatal but you are likely to go into withdrawal when you return to the rest of North America or Europe.
Let’s take a walk at sunset along the malecon to find out what I mean. The malecon is the long, paved concourse following the shore of the Bay of La Paz.
Notice the family that is taking their evening “paseo” or stroll. Dad is carrying tenderly his infant child and mother is trying to shepherd the other children. It’s rather like herding cats. Mexican families are very close and do things together. Watch them.
Yes, the sun is hot and there’s a cooling breeze. Nice combo, no?
You’re surprised to see so many couples canoodling under the palapas? If you live with your parents, what are you doing to do?
That horn? Oh, that’s Maximino. He’s driving by in the black SUV. Hola, Max!
And here comes Carla and Gonzal. Como estan, mis amigos? Here’s a kiss on the check for Carla, a handshake and slap on the back for Gonzal. A cardinal rule here is always, but always, greet someone you know, even if you have to stop traffic.
Why did I try to speak in Spanish when they spoke in English? Because we both want to practice the other language, that’s why.
Do you smell grilling meat? I do and I’m getting hungry. Are you? There’s a great café just up that alley. Let’s go. The people-watching is great and there’s a great breeze off the bay. Afterwards, we’ll walk in “el centro,” a real downtown where people still live, work and shop.
We’re back at my place now. Let me unlock the door. That strange, haunting pitch pipe sound? It’s the knife-sharpener making rounds.
Now here’s a commercial break, courtesy of a good friend in Mexico City. What are the Mexican complex T vitamins? Tacos, tamales, taquitos, tortas and, of course, tequila.
I’ve had many subtle but magic moments here in La Paz and the rest of the Baja. Sitting in the cathedral and soaking in the prayerful silence is one. Another is seeing the flaming hues of bougainvillea against a roughly textured and painted wall. There is the burnt vanilla smell that comes in from the desert when it rains.
Floating on my back in the calm, warm waters of Balandra and watching a huge flock of frigate birds ride the thermals over my head is sublime. A short drive up into the mountains brings me to deep canyons and a roaring river. Viewing the cave painters humbles me. And how about tacos with fish freshly caught only several hours ago.
The courtesy and warmth of the Mexican people delight me. I went to review my FM3 visa, determined to speak only Spanish. After two sentences, though, my brain locked up. In Spanish I apologized, explaining my Spanish was not very good. The clerk, with good English and in a kind way, said that, no, it wasn’t and then thanked me for trying.
The locals treat my eighty-something mother during her stays here like a queen, helping her cross streets on her walks and count out the correct amount of money for purchases. Mexicans will always ask for permission to enter your home and never presume. They will always stop and help if you have car trouble.
Folks will greet you instinctively with a “buenas dias” or good day. Greetings among strangers are not a threat or a come-on. As they get to know you, and if they like you, they will call you amigo, or friend. And, if you’re really in, Mexicans will call you “hermano/hermana” or brother/sister. And they mean it.
Going to live here for extended periods of time? Then you get an adventure squared. You’re not in Kansas anymore. Such things as paying property taxes, refilling the propane tank and getting telephone service will stretch your comfort zone. Here a few tips: expect everything to take three times longer, always make extra copies and, above all, think of these things as a challenging, rewarding puzzle to solve. But the satisfaction, after the last piece of the puzzle is in place, is a small rush.
Did I mention that little, ole’ La Paz and the rest of the Baja is an international crossroad of sorts? I number among my friends and acquaintances not just Mexicans and other North Americans, but also Germans, Danes, Italians, Brits and even New Yorkers. And stories of the old-timer gringos are just great. John Wayne used to come into your shop?
Take a deep, slow breath in and out. Then, the doors of your senses and mind wide open, immerse yourself in the best times to be had in the Baja.
