Usually, that battle cry would be answered in less than a heartbeat. “Usually”.
But, alas, not tonight.
See, this is a “dry weekend”.
Almost like Utah dry.
There is an election Sunday and the government prohibits the sale of alcoholic beverrages until the election is over. I guess. So much controversy.
Imagine. You fly overnight into Cancun this morning from tim buk three, check in to your hotel, get all psyched up for the cheap liquor the fabulous beaches the outrageous food and incredibly beautiful women from all over the world (or for you ladies, the man models.) And see nothing nowhere selling alcohol is open.
Panic sets in. The kind of panic that happens when your lower GI decides to be tired of holding last night’s Tai dinner and you’re stuck on the 405 at 5:00 pm with the nearest off ramp 2.5 miles away.
Yeah. THAT kind of panic.
You’re stuck. You’ve got no choice than to, I dunno….enjoy the incredible place you’re at…sober. Yeah, yeah, I know. WTF kind of fun is that?
So, I decide to take a chower and walk the neighborhood to see “sup”.
See, I smart. I always stock up the moment I arrive.
Guests? No problemo!
Beach time? No problemo!
Elections? NO. PROBLEMO!
So, I also have some of those red party cups. I build myself a nice lil two-block-walk cocktail of Bacardi and Coke and I’m off.
It’s amazingly cool tonight. Like a, “turn off the a/c”, kinda night.
So, the night on Isla, well, in my experience, in ALL Mexico, is where the magic happens.
Whether that be love, sports, or food. It’s just better at night.
I follow two things, as we all should: lights and sound. The sounds of blasting music and competition.
La dee da dee dah…as I stroll..YES! I stroll. By myself!
I live in an area known as “La Gloria”. It’s a cluster of I think 11 (Someone o Isla correct me please) unique neighborhoods…kinda like the boroughs of NYC.
There’s a futbol match going on. Excellent. Except, wait. It’s not…futbol. It’s like basketball without the hoops. Just goals. Uniforms. A ref with a working whistle. Interesting.
I bail at halftime because I hear another attraction.
Um, on the walk over, you CANNOT believe how difficult it is to NOT whip out a few pesos every 100 feet and buy something that’s baked, boiled, broiled, roasted, fried, pounded or smoked. Seriously. The aromas, sounds and feel of the neighborhood is…alive. With so little they live so large. ALWAYS happy. Even when things are tough, they are HAPPY. They have little, but will offer you much. It’s a lesson long lost in many parts of the world. To love Mexico and her people is to love humility.
But, I digress.
So, for some reason I have no clue why, there was a block party in full rip, and I mean FULL RIP.
I’ve been to EDC (The Electric Daisy Carnival) and this sight was a flashback to that weekend.
Four DJ’s on an island in the Caribbean competing with each other and SLAYING it.
All in Spanish electronic music. No clue what any of the songs meant, but I was the only one.
A smile in any language is a smile.
I tip my red party cup back and discover, I’m out. Time to return to the casa,pour a nightcap, open the windows and let that cool Caribbean breeze and sound of the rhythmic waves lull my perfectly buzzed head to la la land.
Nighty night peeps.