Day two in a fishing village
by Gary Warren
Early each morning I like to take a fitness walk and to get re-oriented to new places. Here, I also knew it was going to be hot, and it was still cool at 6:30 am. Two of the students beat me to it, and were up and gone before I got out to the street. They jogged in one direction, and I wandered in another (I’m afraid my jogging days are far behind me).
Two interesting things to write about. First were the many fishermen who brought in their catch from a night of fishing out in the Pacific Ocean. No nets, no trawlers with refrigerated holding tanks – just bushel baskets and coolers with 100 or so fish in each. Restaurants and families gathered around to pick and choose what would be on the table for the day.
The second occurred when I turned a corner to see about 30 Mexicans intently staring at a fence. They were pointing, commenting and reaching for cameras. It was a squirrel. Nothing fancy, just a plain old squirrel, but these are rare here. The same thing had happened in the jungle last week, when our guide brought us to a quick halt and told us to be quiet. He was amazed at seeing a squirrel. What is common in some places, is unique in others. I guess that’s part of travelling.
