Donny and Eric meet us at the airport in Zihaut. They have already been in Mexico a week and have lined up everything, including a taxi with a cargo rack on the roof. Brad and I attach our board bags with twine and nylon and we make the hour or so drive to Nexpa. The surf is flat when we arrive, but the beer is almost cold.
Sunday ~ 9/2
The point is too small, so we hike down the beach and wade across the rivermouth. We find some nice sand bars around the corner, and waves just big enough to ride. After about two and a half waves I brush against something as I’m paddling and feel the sting throttling my fingers. Soon others are stung and we realize there is a massive flotilla of jellies overwhelming the beach. We drift back to shore carefully, trying to paddle without touching the water. The locals call the jellyfish the agua mala, and say sometimes it lasts for a week or more.
Tuesday ~ 9/4
The agua mala has subsided, but so has the surf. We walk down the beach again in search of waves but find the ocean barely licking the shore. Returning to the palapas we pass a couple jeep loads of policia taking lunch break near the rivermouth. They watch us suspiciously as we hike past, standing with weapons slung around their shoulders. Most look about 18 years old. They take turns firing their large military rifles into the river.
The pounding of the waves wakes me up sometime during the night, a much more comforting explosion than gunfire. (more…)
Only one bad thing about traveling; the return to home, like a crash landing. Broke, burnt-out, mosquito-bitten, bad breathed, and culture shocked. All things of consequence mortgaged to finance six months of vagrant bliss, which suddenly and inevitably spirals back to this. Home.
Car sold, apartment relinquished, girlfriend gone, savings account on a horrible downward trajectory. Couch surf and search for employment. Scour the wants everyday and circle promising ads. Administrative Assistant. Busboy. Delivery. Sales Associate.
Fifty applicants per ad. Forced by desperation to accept something temporary perhaps. Like the graveyard shift at the Donut Hut. Just until something better comes along.
In the middle of the night, at Donut Hut, there are a few quiet moments. Eyes closed, the sounds of the video games take over, shooting, pinging and dinging. Step right up and witness the GREATEST SHOW on EARTH!! The Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey’s Circus pinball machines announces over and over when nobody is playing it. The only way to stop it is to tape an out of order sign on the front and unplug it. Enjoy these quiet moments, channeling past adventures and planning future ones. Live the moment has been mantra, but living the moment in Donut Hut is difficult. Relegate the moment to a later time. Relive past moments. Just until something better comes along.