Street Art III
A Taste of Vanilla
where to buy stromectol online Layer-cake Pyramid of the Niches at El Tajin
When visiting the archeological wonders at El Tajin in the state of Veracruz, we also explored the nearby city of Papantla. There we found many vendors selling vanilla on the streets in centro, downtown. The price of dried and cured vanilla beans was low—a pleasant surprise. Vanilla is very expensive in the US.
On many occasions we have found something we wanted in Mexico, deferred buying it and later when we returned to make the purchase, it was no longer available. So we try to be more opportunistic. We stocked up. Although it’s been several years since we were in Papantla, we still have a few vanilla beans from there in our larder.
Orcutt Dried and Cured Vanilla Beans from Papantla
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To our great happiness we found vanilla orchids here in Puerto Vallarta growing at the Jardin Botanico Vallarta. In addition to their display of several varieties of vanilla orchids, they also sell cuttings and give workshops on their care.
The Rooster/El Gallo
Pesky Rooster at Dawn
It’s been a long, dry winter in Puerto Vallarta. I’ve been sick with gripe, flu. We’ve moved across town to a much quieter place—except for this rooster.
He’s a really little guy and has a harem of just one little hen, but he’s extremely vocal. He starts his quiquiriquí, crowing, at 4:30 am, then again at 5:30, 6:30 and finally signs off around 7:30 as daylight breaks.
My landlord tells me he is una mascota, a pet, of our next-door neighbor. He told me to get a slingshot and pelt the little strutter.
I’d be afraid to hit him with a rock as I might badly injure or kill him. So, I’ve decided to embrace this particular noise and the soul currently inhabiting this little rooster body. And I determined to learn to live with him.
Godzilla versus Big Red
Godzilla
Bits and Pieces of Iguana Life
The two huge iguanas charged out of the jungle from opposite directions—heads furiously bobbing, tongues flicking and dewlaps extended to create enlarged, intimidating appearances. Behind the two five-foot-plus male iguanas—looking for-all-the-world like dragons—were the armies of each of the Iguana Kings.
A pick-up truck full of vegetables had just arrived and two lizard teams from either side of the farm had come to compete for food.
From the east, Godzilla led his forces, and from the west, Big Red marshaled his unruly pack. There were iguanas everywhere! Little iguanas scurried over the backs of larger iguanas, joining the stand-off before the feed.
Way Down Yonder in the Pawpaw Patch
Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.
– Charles R. Swindoll
I suppose my first grade teacher deposited this one.
My son recently sent me a note with a couple of photos he took of Pawpaws he picked “in the wild” from an island in the Potomac River near Washington, DC.
When I looked at his pictures, a flood of memories from the public elementary school I attended hit me. And this song we sang magically reappeared:
Camarones Gigantes
“The term Jumbo Shrimp has always amazed me. What is a Jumbo Shrimp? I mean, it’s like Military Intelligence – the words don’t go together, man.” George Carlin
Driving east from Papantla, we first hit the Gulf of Mexico at the Veracruz beach town of Tecolutla. It was an early summertime Friday and it seemed as if everyone in eastern Mexico had the same idea—let’s go to the beach. We found a small hotel and quickly joined the crowds cooling themselves in the soft breezes and inviting waters.
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The following day we wanted to see more of the seaside village. So we walked over to the riverfront where the mouth of the Rio Tecolutla enters the Gulf and defines the southeast corner of the town.
The Angels of Ek’ Balam
Mayan Angels
Angels in a Mayan pyramid? Surely not Christian angels as we think of angels in a church or pictured in an illustrated Bible with pseudo-Renaissance prints…
No. Although they do look a lot like the kind of angels we think of seeing in a Christian context, I prefer to understand these angels as naturalistic people dressed up like birds.
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The Mayan archaeological site of Ek’Balam, Black Jaguar, in north central Yucatán is not only home to angels, but also to a monster.
Motmots at Uxmal
In 1989 while working on a business venture in Belize, I took several days to look for wildlife around the Coxcomb Reserve.
I am interested in birds and was lucky to see Scarlet Macaws near the village of Red Bank. One dark night on a mountain trail I saw a small wild cat, a Margay, exposed by the headlights of our jeep. Also I saw some huge snakes, boa constrictors—locally called Wolas, and one aggressive venomous Fer de Lance—a serpent Belizeans call a Tommygoff.
One bird I was particularly interested in seeing was the Motmot. These birds have long ‘paddle tails’ and electric coloring. They are easy to identify. For me however, finding the Motmot in the wild proved elusive. After spending a good part of three days looking around the edges of the Coxcomb Reserve and adjacent banana plantations, I gave up and decided that Motmots were just not destined to make my list.
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When Alice and I were driving around Mexico looking for a place to settle, we spent six weeks in Mérida—trying the city on for size.
Whale Walk
When living on Calle Ecuador in Puerto Vallarta, the view of Bahia de Banderas from our balcon stretched wide—an awesome vista. We could see Punta de Mita across the bay to the north. South from Punta de Mita, straight in front, lay the Islas Las Tres Marietas. Scanning the open water further south, our eyes met land again at Punta La Iglesia on the south side of the bay.
Each day we watched the sun as it moved north toward Punta de Mita at the summer solstice, then south to over land to Punta Iglesia at the winter solstice. Every day at sunset, we noted the apparent solar movement. By mid-January, the sun had moved north from Punta Iglesia enough to set over water in the south of the bay.
One morning looking out at the bay, we spotted whales. The whales were here.
Whales, ballenas!
A quarter-mile offshore, a catamaran and two pangas floated dead in the water within a hundred yards of two wallowing whales. The people in those boats were getting a close look.
I had a morning meeting in Old Town, Colonia Emiliano Zapata, so I kissed Alice goodbye, hurried down to the street, and scrambled down the steep Calle Panama to reach flatter terrain. I zigzagged across the cobbles of Colonia Cinco de Diciembre toward the north end of the malecón, the shoreline’s broad walkway.
There they were—the whales. They had moved further south, even closer to shore—now just a few hundred yards out.
I could swim to them from here.
As I eased into a comfortable pace weaving along the broad walkway through strolling tourists and locals, the whales seemed to move along with me. They sounded, came to the surface after gaining a few hundred yards, then dawdled together for a while. I was so pleased my pace synced with the whales’ movements it took me a while to realize most of the people on the malecón were oblivious to the whales. Every hundred feet or so, I met a person whose gaze also had locked on the whales, and we exchanged smiles.
It was like walking along with a dog—until I arrived at the south end of the malecón and the whales turned west—out to sea—untethered—free—wild.
A high-five tail-wag. Gone.
Whales. Humpback Whales.
Forty-thousand Flamingos
Ria Lagartos/Rio Lagartos
You don’t pass through the little fishing village of Rio Lagartos, Alligator River, going anywhere. Unless you intend it as a destination, you will never come upon it. The village is remote—at the end of a road in the middle of the northern coast of Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula. However, it is a place rich in wildlife and natural beauty, the home of Mexico’s Reserva de la Biospera Ria Lagartos.
Alice and I drove from Merida to Rio Lagartos. Once there, we hired a guide to take us on a birding adventure. We wanted to see some of the hundreds of species of birds living in or migrating through this reserve. We understood very large numbers of Flamingos were the main attraction, and we were not disappointed.
Our guide, Roman Fernandez, was a gifted naturalist well versed in the life histories and habits of the creatures we saw—birds and others. He told us Flamingos weigh 2.5 kilos for females, 5.5 kilos for males. They may live for 20 years, have few if any predators, lay and incubate one white or green egg per year and mate for life.
