the naming of things

Several years ago, Mexico provided funds to local communities to erect signs proclaiming their names.

The signs were metal and painted in bright colors with images of the individual community's icons. For blogger-photographers they were a boon. Every essay needs a hook, and nothing is more effective than an establishing shot.

Barra de Navidad was no exception. Its letters were not only colorful, but they also proclaimed how Barra saw itself. Sailfish. Dorado. Even the fallen-arms Jesus with his theological ambiguities.

And, unlike most towns and cities that placed their eponymous signs on their public squares, Barra de Navidad decided not to do that. Probably with good reason. Barra's square is not the center of activity for the town. Most of the time, it has the sad countenance of a disused parking lot.

But Barra does have a center of activity. Its malecon topping the remnants of the sand bar that provided the town's name. There is no better view -- with the laguna on one side and the bay on the other. It was the perfect place to erect that sign. And that is exactly what happened.

It was a hit. Every tourist that walked by had to shoot the sign. Usually with family members clamoring over its letters.

Maybe it was loved too much. The combination of the letter-climbing, the sea brine, and petty vandalism had its toll on the sign.

First, the accent lights were stolen or broken. Then the metal started giving way. There was no choice but to cart the sign away.

It was soon replaced by another sign that was supposed to be temporary. Its peculiar use of English was not a propitious sign for the future.
 

Its utility ended abruptly less than two weeks ago, being the victim of the same factors that killed the first sign. Too much love, brine, and vandalism.

I recounted most of this tale two weeks ago in a mere shadow of itself. Even though I had not solicited any solutions for a future sign, northerners, being the problem-solvers they are, posted lots of comments with numerous ways to preserve a future sign.

One of those suggestions was to cast the letters in concrete other than in metal. Someone was paying attention to that avalanche of advice.

When I walked to the malecon yesterday, I ran into a work party uncovering a stack of letters. Even before I interviewed them, I knew this was not a Sesame Street road show. The letters were for a replacement sign. This time in concrete.

Because I had other boats to sail yesterday, I decided to return this morning to see how much progress had been made. It turned out to be a lot.

The sign is not yet complete. The "Barra" portion of the sign will accompany "de Navidad" just below it. The letters will then be painted in a pied pattern.

I really liked the first sign. It not only had character, it captured the essence of this little village by the bay. I hope this third sign will re-capture that long-lost spirit.

At least, it appears its survivability has been heightened.