Easter Sunday

Sunday remains my favorite day; it’s family day. This Sunday is mega-family day. As Semana Santa progresses towards culmination with Easter Sunday, incoming water taxis are engorged with nationals enroute to Yelapa to visit their “country cousins.” For every adult there are generally at least two children; most are under the age of ten. Our village affords the “city cousins” the opportunity to freely and safely roam the streets, play a limited number of primitive video games, romp on the beach or generally just hang out while large circles of parents, aunts/uncles, grandparents and other adults occupy collections of plastic chairs on balconies, patios or along the main path through the village. It is a happy time.

My office platform affords one of the best vistas to observe this activity. Immediately in front of me resides a multi-generational collage of family members. Grandpa is fast asleep between the platform and a ramp accommodating foot traffic from the seaside units above. Two couples occupy sand-filled beach towels which evidence the frequent visitation of young ones. Coolers bear assorted snacks and beverages. The adults’ attention scans the water’s edge less than twenty feet away. There, I observe no less than a dozen jumping, splashing, running, squealing young boys and girls.

Down the beach resides a group of older girls. They scheme and then swim out to a nearby vacant panga.  It is quickly repurposed into their offshore headquarters. Other like-minded females follow swelling the panga’s occupancy to near capacity. This concentration of femininity does not go unnoticed. A like numbered band of adolescent males rushes into the water a la Braveheart. Fortunately, they bear appropriate attire. Girls scream, boys growl, bodies leap through the air. Pandemonium abounds! The damsels (the prey), flee to safe harbor from the warriors (the predators), and focus on sequestering a second panga. The young men, unwilling or unable to take prisoners, amass on the now vacant panga to plot their next move. No discernible discussion evolves. The term “Mexican Standoff” defines the moment. One girl seizes the stage and leaps into the water, swimming toward yet a third panga. The ensuing block of time finds the two groups ultimately melding onto and off of three pangas. There is continuous swimming, jumping and screaming. The boys digress into attempting acrobatics from the panga. They bear no idea as to why they must do this; it is a validation of ancient instincts.

Three couples in their mid-teens descend a ramp to assume positions next to a tall stone wall. The senoritas are clad in snug semi-revealing tops complimented by short shorts or equally brief cut-offs. The boys all wear the basic Yelapa uniform: T-shirt and board shorts. Each of the six has a cell phone in hand; they silently settle into their world of addictive texting. Periodically, one glances upward to exude disdain at the noise level of the groups occupying the water. The beach scene is reminiscent of a Carmen Lomas Garcia painting. A smile creeps across my face.

The afternoon sun drops early in Yelapa due to a high ridge line on the southern border of the village. Following some inaudible signal, perhaps a group text, the teenagers arise and retrace their steps up the ramp. The remaining trio of panga pirates sits silently astride individual benches. The clutch of little ones are retrieved and dried before returning to the homes of their hosts. Tomorrow, hundreds of family members will return to their city environs fatter and browner; affirmed that nothing beats a weekend in the country.     

Commercial Break

For the balance of April, up until my departure on Friday, April 26; hours of operation will return to the normal 10 ish to 2 ish. It might be wise to check availability before planning a day with a Yak. Local cell phone is 044 322 146 5064 or contact me via email at billrisdon@gmail.com. Happy paddling--memo