Sunday Afternoon in Mazatlán

I went from having a reasonable queue of work from Client A this weekend and into the new week to having an “OMG, must type and not stop till I’m done, holy cow!” type of queue when my, “Definitely not going to have anything for you this weekend,” Client B pulled his, “Can you do about 50 billion hours of work for me by (impossible deadline),” stunt. Since I’m taking next weekend off, I agreed to take the assignment, but negotiated a more manageable deadline.

Everything was going well until this morning when I realised that there was a major issue with the second part of a project due for Client A that meant I could not proceed at all with it. Because it’s ultimately a government contract, there could be no answers till tomorrow, a business day. So that meant that I’d be scrambling tomorrow to do that project and should therefore start Client B’s project so that I wouldn’t be scrambling with it on Tuesday.

By noon, I had already done three hours of work finishing the first part of Client A’s project that I could finish and I’d done nearly three hours of work for Client B, enough to determine that this was a very rare easy file from him that I could easily complete between Tuesday and Wednesday morning.

Dale and I had made plans to meet downtown for one last beer today at 2:00, so I found myself going from, “Need to make this super quick!” to “Hey, don’t have to go back to work after!” Woohoo!

I left a little earlier than I needed to so I could run two errands before meeting Dale. I got to the panga and had only a 100 to pay for my 8-peso fare. Contessa had offered to loan me a 20, but I figured the panaga folks would have change or, worst case, I could run into the City Deli for a water. I asked the lady at the panga booth if she had change for a 100 and she said yes, but only because I asked her so nicely in her language and then winked at me as she pulled open a drawer with heaps of change in it. Hee!

The first errand in town was picking up some avocados and red onions. Avocados were easy, but I had to go to about six merchants before I found non-rotten red onions!

Then, I needed a jewelery repair shop because the chain on my pendant broke a couple of days ago. For some reason, I actually noticed and remembered that there was a jewelery repair kiosk on the exterior perimeter of the Mercado. I walked around until I found him on the side across from Waldo’s, towards Leandro Valle.

The man greeted me in perfect English, so I didn’t bother to look for the correct Spanish words. I pulled out the pendant, spread it out, pointed out where a link had broken, and asked if he could fix it. He confirmed that it was silver, then said, and I quote, “Absolutely! Take five minutes! 40 pesos!”

It indeed toook about five minutes and he showed me the link, explaining the discolouration was because of the welding process and that the colour would even out over time, none of which was an issue.

He dug and dug for 10 pesos in change from my 50-peso note and I told him to not worry about the change. I was so grateful that the repair had been done so quickly and well, knowing that I would have had no idea where to have a repair like this done back home and that it would have cost me a fortune. He was so grateful for an extra what amounts to 80 cents for me that I think both our days were made.

I then went across the street and Dale arrived a couple of minutes later. We headed down to Olas Altas as I unloaded about my work day.

I hadn’t planned to have lunch because I thought Dale was having a dinner out with friends this evening, but I wound up only having more than some crackers, cheese, and fruit at 11:00. So when Dale said she was hungry and was only doing drinks with her friends later, I suggested we go to the Copa de leche restaurant for a proper meal.

There, I ordered the enchiladas mole like last time and Dale shocked me by ordering the beef tacos. Beers were two for one and so we had two each. The food was just as good as last time (although I didn’t have any sesame seeds this time and had to ask for extra tortillas for the sauce). Dale loved the mole sauce and one of her tacos, loaded with extra grilled onions, materialized on my plate…

We drank our first beers really fast and so hit the pair of them hit us pretty hard. Dale was in hysterics watching me try to figure out the tab, something I usually do effortlessly for us. We were stuffed with good food and just about rolled out of there. We were rather giggly walking back to the Mercado. 🙂

There, we stopped in at Panamá’s so I could get some sandwiches for tonight and a croissant for the morning. Dale didn’t have any change, so I made her pick out something for her breakfast as my treat. The cashier had no trouble understanding me when I said that I wanted two bags, but the fact that I wanted two sandwiches and a pastry in one bag and one pastry in the other made her scratch her head a little.

Then, Dale went, “Oh!” which told me she had almost forgotten something. As it turns out, she had gone to the fabric store before meeting me looking for Velcro. It had taken 10 minutes to get the clerks to even pay attention to her and then saying Velcro and pantomiming got her nothing but disdain from the young girl at the notions counter.

So she had me go in and I pulled up a picture of Velcro on my phone. The girl haughtily said that they had some in black and white. I checked with Dale and then asked for white. Then, Dale put her fingers apart to show how much she wanted. The gal shook her head and showed us the metre stick. It a minute of her just shaking her head before I exasperatedly told her that I might not speak Spanish well, but I understand it and what was the problem? Dale needed to buy a whole metre. Geeze, Louise! That wasn’t so hard, was it?!

But it wasn’t over. The gal cut the amount and then handed Dale a ticket, telling me that we had to go to the till and then come back to pick up. We got to the till and Dale handed over a 50. The cashier would not take it and kept saying, “No, no. Five. Five.” I finally clued in and said that neither one of us had change. Okay, fine, Dale gets her 45 pesos in change. She had balked at buying a whole metre but I had told her it would be cheap and I was right!

It still wasn’t over. We went back to the notions counter and the girl looked at us like we were nuts and pointed vaguely in the direction of the till. I have to say that she clearly told me, “Regresa aquí” (come back here), so nothing was lost in translation!

We went back there to the till and I looked around until I saw a sign that, while I couldn’t translate perfectly, suspected meant merchandise pickup, which is exactly what it was.

Whew! This was my second unpleasant encounter with a merchant in nearly five months here. I usually think I’m doing well if I only have a couple a week back home!

And then, it was time to go since Dale had to get back to not just the Golden Zone, but really far up there, past where she lives even, to meet friends. She thanked me several times for being her buddy this winter and I said the same to her. It would have taken so much longer to figure out this place without her.

She pulls out first thing Tuesday and if the fates allow, she’ll pull into Haven sometime this summer. We both refused to say goodbye, just, “See you later!”

One thought on “Sunday Afternoon in Mazatlán

  1. Not sure where Dale is headed but she can always stay here on her way across the border. She’ll fit just fine in the driveway. We liked her, very nice gal.

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