cabo

mexicans LOVE the rain because it’s different than the sun they see every day. americans with only two full days in the tropics? not so much.

only i would carry sunscreen in my purse in the middle of a rainstorm just in case.

“i’m either asleep or awake.” if only i lived and slept with the same conviction as R.

we met up with three of R’s coworkers for a drink. i’d met all of them at least once, if not twice, but only had had snippets of conversations with each. each one hugged me hello. there’s just something about seeing a semi-familiar face in a foreign land that it lends itself to hugging.

R and i left the resort every day and mingled with the locals. thanks to R’s effervescent smile strangers became friends, catcalls became compliments, and Holas! became invitations to explore.

almost every non-local we encountered was on their umpteenth visit to cabo and generously shared information on where to eat, what to see, etc. it’s a blurry line between local and tourist and visitor. well, except the part where the natives speak spanish.

12 hours of flights, 2 hours of delays, 3 hours early to the airport, 12-14 pesos to the dollar depending upon the day, 2 for 1 drinks during happy hour, $0 and 0 pesos for ladies for drinks on tuesday night.

R still delights in my discomfort when she gets the waiter to bring a cake, a candle, and a barrage of backup singers (with maracas!).

the trajectory of your life can change due to the arrival of one person.