sanding the edges

"I suspect our guests are going to approve of their handiwork."

That is how I ended yesterday's essay.  And I had to wait less time than usual to be proven absolutely correct.

The crowds have been trickling in this week to enjoy the salubrious joys of inhaling lungfuls of sea water and contracting all forms of sarcoma. 

By Thursday night, Mexicans from the highlands were descending on us, as Lord Byron would have it, "like a wolf on the fold."  And residents of Mexico City were publicly displaying the manners that get them confused with Parisians.

In the six years I have lived in the area, I have set foot on sand in Barra de Navidad no more than the number of my feet which have touched that sand.  But, yesterday, I ventured down to let you have a look at how the new beach is being put to use.

Our local lads have lugged umbrellas, tables, and chairs onto the beach to accommodate our guests with sensitive tastes.  The rest have simply thrown up tents and tossed down sleeping bags on what will be their personal conquered territory for the next few days.  And once conquered, it will be relinquished to no one.

What you see are the Good Friday crowds.  Today should be host to an even larger group if the number of cars, SUVs, and buses are any indication of new arrivals.  We had a traffic snarl almost a mile long yesterday around noon.

This year I skipped the Easter passion march that passes just a block from my house.  It is usually quite dramatic.  But I have seen it before.

However, I intend to get out and about this week.  I fronted some money to a young man to set up his own table space on the beach -- along with some rather creative food offerings.

I do not intend to see a return on the money.  But I am always impressed with the entrepreneurial spirit of the people around me.

While I am busy celebrating Easter in my way, they are doing their best to transfer pesos from the pockets of tourists into their own.

I wish them well.