Our cruise took us to three ports, Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan, and Puerto Vallarta.
When we stepped off the ship in Cabo, we just started walking. All around the peir area, there were people set up inside and outside of the fence, selling jewelry, giant plates, ocharinas, and silver. Everywhere. The kids were instantly taken in by the array. N immediately started begging for a whistle, which I very stupidly bought him. Because even though it brings him joy, it is the exact pitch to pierce through my ears and straight into my brain. I couldn’t have waited until Thursday to get it for him? And, of course, if he got one, Ty got one. By Friday, I had to lock the stupid things in the safe.
At any rate, most of the people we interacted with were pleasant. Some were a little pushy, some appeared more desperate, and some had kids do the selling for them. Being a big old bleeding heart, we made sure to buy a few little trinkets from the mom and 3 kids at the end of the pier. And resolved that we would start bussing into TJ to work in the orphanages there.
The farther we walked along the pier, the rougher the crowd became, and the more we saw men selling silver jewelry. It was mostly link bracelets and necklaces, none of which looked like they would survive the sailing to our next port. And frankly, the girls prefer the bead necklaces over the silver anyway. So, imagine my surprise when one of the men grabbed R’s arm and started layering bracelets onto it.
Where was I? Several steps behind, corralling two little boys who only wanted to watchthe crabs running along the rocks by the water.
Old Mexican Guy: Almost Free
R: No, Gracias
OMG: Almost Free
R: No! Gracias
OMG: How many you want?
R: No! Gracias. No Dinero.
Me-Right in the guy’s face now: NO! NO! NO! No bracelets! NO!
And then, the smell of pot wafted off of him. And his pot smoking buddies started smirking from the shade. And my stinky little boys were still climbing on the rocks. And I was removing bracelets from her arm and walking her back towards her brothers.
Still handing him bracelets, OMG changed tactics and waved a little packet in my face. I can only assume it was pot. Smirking, he said, “Almost free”
Before we return to Mexico, I must learn how to say, “Get your nasty hands off my child!” in fluent Spanish. With any and all appropriate threats included.