When we arrived around dusk, these two kids found us. Their families helped us check in to the only motel in town. The mother of the household sent someone to get the keys from the owner, who was across town at some function. We spent lots of time with the kids of the town over the next few days.
This is the view from the motel we stayed in. It was the most expensive we encountered in the trip, at $50 bux USD per night. But, man was it worth it.
The night we arrived, this taco stand was sitting out in the street in front of our hotel. We ate no less than 15 tacos each. We ate every piece of beef the lady had for sale. Drank Cokes all night. Ate an absolutely gluttonous amount of food. It cost $9 bux each. The next morning the local dog licked our leftovers.
This is Oscar. He lives next door to the motel. He is rather quiet. We did talk quite a lot, but mostly, he would just sit quietly and comfortably. No need for him to speak. He is a great kid.
This is the house across from the motel room. It is the house that hosted the taco stand the night before.
Here is a shot of the motel from down the cobblestone street. Jim was upstairs. I was downstairs.
This alley connected the motel to the main drag. There is a restaurant we frequented right past the azaleas.
A typical Mexican breakfast. Chorizo and eggos.
Generally, the town was very neatly painted and maintained. We learned that this is the case because cruise ships frequently take shore excursions from Mazatlan to El Quelite.
This was "our table" at the restaurant we frequented.
This is Jesus. We met him while walking the streets of El Quelite one morning. He had a job of handing out fliers to potential patrons of a restaurant in town. We talked from 9AM in the morning until 3:30 PM in the afternoon. We talked about everything imaginable. George Bush. How to get Catholic girls into bed. Why America is great. Why America is bad. The same two questions for Mexico, as well. You name it, we talked about it.
At one point when talking about the Mexican concept of sexuality, Jesus shows us a secret in his folder. He is quite proud of her.
We pass the whole day sitting with him and talking.
While talking to Jesus, the Watermelon lady visits. I buy a small one for a buck.
Then this freaking iguana drops out of a tree near our bench. Scares the bejeezus outta me. The lizars hisses then starts running down the street. Those things can boogie. A man could never outrun one.
As we continue to talk to Jesus, out of nowhere comes a perfectly behaved column of cattle. We have no idea where they are going. There is a dude with a horse at the end of the column, but it is not like a cattle drive or anything. Just cows appearing and walking down the street.
Strange stuff happens when you talk to Jesus all day...
Then this little guy comes by selling these sweet things that are like fried tortillas covered with sugar and cinnamon. We scarf a few. Notice the watermelon we bought from the lady behind Jim's right butt cheek. Also notice the numerous Pacifico beer cans sitting around. Thankfully, there was a deposito (beer store) only two doors down and a public urinal only three doors down.
So ended our day with Jesus. We took a walk around the town square. Here is an example of a statue we found.
Of course, every town of any size at all has a church with a steeple. El Quelite is no exception.
This is a shot of the town square. The small yellow building with a brown roof, barely bigger than my bedroom, is the town library. It serves the entire town and school. There are maybe a hundred or so books in the building.
Another shot of the church spire.
This little guy was always around us.
Jim and I figure it is time to communicate with home, so we go to the local Internet Cafe. I tell you, you only thought 14,400 baud dial up was slow. It took an entire half hour just to log on to Hotmail. I sent a one sentence mail to my wife. Took almost an hour.
The sum total of all the computers in the entire town are in this room.
This next photo is really just the beginning of another much more significant thing. The hand is that of Fernanda, the local medicine woman. The potion she is holding cures the bite of the scorpion. Notice all the scorpions in it. We got into a conversation with a guy who swears that this stuff is all that will save you if you are bitten by a big one.
It also turns out that Fernanda is the town's chistosa, or jokester. We spend about an hour listening to her tell stories and sing songs filled with the filthiest sexual double entendres and the like. Also, Fernanda likes to dress in drag, i.e. as a man. She also has elephantitis in one leg. She makes a living making pinatas.
One of the guys who was joining us and Fernanda for the evening conversation tells us that Fernanda has a large paper mache penis that she likes to wear to special occasions like bachelor parties. Imagine that, a 70 year old woman, with elephantitis in one leg, who is a witch doctor, likes to cross dress, and wears giant phallic prostheses shows up to your bachelor party singing songs about how the virgin you are marrying has the, well you know... I won't let it get any raunchier than that, but suffice it to say that Fernanda has some songs that would make a sailor blush fully red.
This whole conversation was another major Mind Buzz on the order of that we had with Robert(o) the Giant Squid Wrestler of La Manga Dos.
Now on to other things.
Below is a nice picture of a park bench. Near that bench is a trash can. Something significant happened near that trash can.
Close by, there is a little tienda, or grocery store. Jim and I go in for some junk food, and these little spherical candies catch Jim's eye. They are handmade Tamarindo candies. Jim looks at me. All I can do is say "It ain't what you think it is..." The lady behind the counter starts chuckling. Jim, with his mind fixated on a chocolate sugar covered donut hole, negotiates the sale of one Tamarindo Candy for one peso, and pops it in his mouth. We walk off.
We walk for what must be like 5 minutes in silence. Next thing you know, we pass near this park bench and a garbage can. With no warning, Jim horks the entire Tamarindo, along with about 2 cups of collected saliva into the can. The noise is more than alarming. It is fully disgusting.
I say what the hell??? He says, you are right. It ain't what it looks like! I said "told you so".
For the uninitiated, Tamarindo is a heinous concoction sometimes passed off as candy in Mexico. Gringos cannot eat it without dying, so don't even try it.
Sadly, the day came for us to leave El Quelite. On that day, the little boys gathered around to see us off. As we boogied, they chased behind us waving and waving. It was a wonderful stay in a wonderful town.
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