Mazatlan On
the Pacific
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Greetings from Mazatlan. Every
morning I sit on my balcony and watch the waves sloppy kiss the sand. Bird
Island sits directly across a narrow stretch of water. Condors, vultures by any
other name, circle thermals upward from island nests, then split off in search
of wider skies and prey. Shrimp boats troll the horizon. Frigate birds patrol
the sky. Pelicans dive face first into the sea, bob up with fish hanging from
beaks. Morning sun splatters the beach through coconut palm filters.
One morning I scattered crumbs on
the balcony wall for a persistent dove in search of a handout. The following
morning she showed up and demanded more. My “cupboard” was bare. Now I make
sure to save a tortilla or bread roll from dinner. She brought her mate, then
her family; now I suspect she invited her neighbors. If we stayed much longer,
I’d have to bring a daily loaf of bread.
This week I’m in Mazatlan with
Denise, a Harlem classmate, and her husband, Don, mixing medical business with
pleasure. Don is having extensive dental work. Denise is getting teeth cleaned
plus an eye exam and new glasses.
I returned to Dr. Paty, my, now our,
dentist, in fear and trembling, the way I approach any dentist. I like her so I
keep coming back, covert excuse for holiday in Mazatlan. I had a tooth throwing
my jaw out of alignment. The tooth never hurt. This sounds crazy but that tooth
was driving me crazy. Some days it was hard to eat, hard to talk. Have you ever
had a dentist massage your jaw throughout a procedure?
The larger part of the week I get to
show off my Mazatlan, tourist spots as well as the places tourists never get to
see.
Meeting old friends from when I
lived here delights me. Our beach hotel is in my old stomping grounds, the
neighborhood in which I walked daily. So I know a lot of people, neighbors,
street vendors, restaurant workers. All greet me with hugs; their faces beam
welcome.
My dear friend Carlos made my heart
sing with his report on his son, Carlitos, who has been undergoing cancer
treatment this entire past year. Now, hopefully nearing the end of chemo
treatments, Carlitos weighs over 60 kilos, between 130 and 140 pounds. In his
current photo, he looks good, baseball cap tightly pulled over his head. The
last photo I saw, Carlitos looked like a skeleton with skin and nobody had much
hope.
Carlos gives his wife, Selena, a lot
of credit for her strength and faith. When Carlitos wanted to quit, his family
kept him going. Hope, we have hope.
For me, simply being with Don and
Densie is a treat. Denise and I are discovering even more things we have in
common. At reunions, we never had the chance to spend hours of uninterrupted
time. We knew one another quite well, but now have reached a deeper level.
I never knew Don at all, really,
outside of a series of intriguing email messages. Now I have a new friend.
This article sounds like a letter
from a distant relative, so I’ll close, sincerely, with love from your favorite
Aunt Sondra.
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
January 18,
2018
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