Bears in the Jungle

You know that bears do not inhabit the jungle or tropical climates, right? So just what is it that I am attempting to say? Ah, I thought you’d never ask.

In Yelapa, there are several really large men. We’re talking the size of tackles for the New England Patriots. These are big guys. The first one with whom you are likely to come in contact is Sipriano. Along with an ever-present orange Truper wheelbarrow (caretilla), he plies his trade of baggage porter, cargo hauler or just general diseminator of Yelapa information. His toothy smile beams from one end of the town pier to the other. He and I share abusive greetings, he shouts “hey gordo” and I respond “hey flaco.” We grin and chuckle, this is Yelapa. For a reasonable fee, Sipriano will transport your luggage or packages to their destination. He traverses the hills of town many times each day. His bodily profile is bisected by a black kidney belt. Instead of granting him a svelte hour-glass appearance, it looks more like a broad rubber band stretched tautly around the center of a large potato. If it is intended to add to his comedic ambiance, then it accomplishes this well. He is a gentle giant and a trusted villager.

Our second bear, known to anyone who has visited Yelapa, is Pajuelas. He can be spotted at a great distance, or even off in the bay, as the result of his signature piece of apparel—a Rasta hat. He is a member of the family which owns/operates Tacos y Mas and the Rosewood Shop on the path up to the town falls. He also free lances as an outboard motor mechanic. His travels throughout town invariably include a handful of disciples. A pony tail descends his back; an infectious aura of laughter accompanies this man like a ray of sunshine. When he chuckles, which is more often than not, his entire girth engages. He is a friend to all.      

Our third bear is Sami. Ah, where does one begin when describing Sami? This gentleman is “somewhat” challenged in height yet abundantly blessed in width; something akin to a plump grapefruit with little legs. This physical set-up does not lend itself to walking the streets of Yelapa, so he relies heavily on a blue moto (quad). Now most motos make noise, the older the moto, the more noise it makes. Sami has an old moto, yet he is the only human in town who can be heard a block down the road while revving his moto up a hill. He has a highly-pitched voice capable of disintegrating wine bottles two kilometers away. Sami’s occupational specialty is doing things that no one else wants to do: 1) he picks up and collects anything which is metal (refrigerators, washing machines, sinks etc.) transports them on his panga and sells the metal for scrap. As a result of his sole effort, perhaps a dozen panga loads of rusty, unsightly metal were removed from Yelapa. 2) he is available on short notice to haul people and stuff to Boca as well as pick up people and stuff from Boca—naturally this is on a fee basis. 3) of late there is a sign posted at Sami’s front door—Organic Chicken and Duck Eggs for sale. No telling what could be next, but you can bet he’ll be on it. If you ever need him, he’s easy to find. Walk down to his house next to Yuri’s Market; look inside; if you see Sami sitting on his moto in his living room watching TV, then he’s available.

These are but three of the bears that inhabit Yelapa. Feel free to feed or offer drink to them. They don’t bite. Much to the contrary, they typify the warmth of our village. We are lucky to have them.  Gracias

Commercial Break

Kayaks at summer discounted rates are this week’s specialty. My cell is dead so contact me at 209 5110 if you’d like to go out. Happy paddling--memo