Hitchhiking back to the Sea of Cortes

Sea of Cortes, Baja, California.

Ed dropped me off at the local convenient store. Two minutes later, I saw a red truck and asked the driver where he was going. He had a motorbike inside. I asked if I could join, and he wondered with the motorbike in the bed. I said, "I'm small. I can fit."

So he said, "Yes."

I hopped in the back of the truck. The sun was beating down on me, and I could feel it.

* * *

Yesterday afternoon, Aidi, Ed, and Olivia went to a beach. They were social. And so the bartender liked us very much and brought us out free mezcal. It was strong and tasted like agave. I wondered if it was Aieda's mezcal. Her brand is called Apapacho. It's an Aztec word for when a hug is given and two souls connect.

I ran on the wet sand. Sometimes I jumped into the cold Pacific Ocean. There were many stones at that beach. Aieda's dog followed me and barked and barked. She was the most undisciplined and needy dog I ever met. It would howl if it didn't get attention for even a second. 

Olivia's two dogs on the other hand were well-behaved. I told Aidea's dog once, "Gallete." (Shut up in English.) And Aieda said, "No. He needs to be free."

No wonder why the dog was so undisciplined. I thought about our cat at home and how well behaved he was. 

Earlier in the day, Aieda told me the most interesting story. She said it was in her family that they could sell anything and that her grandparents used to sell candy and dresses in Mexico City. One day, a rich businessman partnered with her grandfather in a candy making business. But after the businessman stole her grandfather's recipe, he kicked him out of the business. So, he had to come back to Mexico City and start all over.

I asked her, "What happened to the businessman?"

"I don't know," she said. "But what's crazy, is that one of the grandchildren of my grandfather, and one of the grandchildren of the businessman ended up marrying each other in another part of Mexico three generations later."

The people listening were impressed with the story.

* * *

Then for dinner, Ed and I ate at a Sushi place in town. They raved and raved about it.

There, I asked Ed about his time in Thailand and Bali. 

We talked about forgiveness. 

I told him about some of the people driving me crazy in life. If you don't have such people in your life, you're lucky.

I added, "You know what they say about resentment. Unmet expectations are at the root of all resentment."

He said, "That's true. I had a teacher who talked a lot about forgiveness. He said the same thing. You have to let go of the expectations you have others."

I said, "It was worth coming out here, just to have this talk." 

But I don't know if I'd go back to the same restaurant to eat. The service was slow. The food was good but not awesome. I should've just ordered the sashimi.

When the bill came, I realized I didn't have my wallet. How embarrassing. Ed had to pay for me. I was worried about it. How about if I lost it? How would I pull out anymore money? 

Every second I had to wait to get back to the house felt like hours. But when we got back, I rummaged through my backpack and found my wallet. A sense of relief washed all over me.

* * *

Me hitchhiking back with Alexander and his father

10 minutes into the ride of the pickup truck, the truck pulled over to the side of the road. The driver asked me to join them in the cab. I knew that he wanted to talk.

The father and son only spoke Spanish. They were from Michoacan originally. The father was in the import and export business for 30 years, and now he had owned his own business. He imported and exported fabrics from Guadalajara to around the whole country. He was proud of himself he had enough to support his family and 

He told me about the slangs and foods of Michoacan. He told me that the most beautiful girls come from Michoacan.

I told them they were in Colombia, Cartagena, specifically. He said they were all full of plastic. And we all started laughing. I told him I did see a lot of women in Cartagena who had plastic surgery. 

I told him about my world travels all over South America and told him Peru had the best ceviche. I highly recommended seeing Machu Picchu to them.

When the ride was over, he dropped me off at the supermarket.

* * *

From there, I bought some coffee and red wine and walked back 3 miles to my hostel. There, I called my client and talked to them. 

After talking about 15 minutes, Monse came back with Arturo (same Arturo the baker) and said, "Paul, get ready! We're going to the Full Moon party now. We want to see the moon rising."

I said good bye to my clients and rushed out with my stuff. I was going to my first Full Moon Party at the beach.