Mike Humfreville - 10-20-2004 at 07:36 PM
A Queen
I met her couple of years back. Times have changed in her world and the world of her family. They?ve changed in mine as well.
She was the operator of a hot dog stand proudly positioned in the town square of Bahia de Los Angeles. The next time we visited she was there, and
the next and the next. We frequented her stand at first because it was the only place in the village offering Mexican hot dogs. We continued - the
food was limited but good and we were learning her personality, and that of her husband and son. The name of her stand was La Reina, the Queen. Her
husbands name is Selino.
On our recent trip to Bahia de Los Angeles we went first as always to Las Hamacas for lunch. We discovered, via the waitress, that the scene had
changed there. They had no scallops and no pescado empanizado. They had no permissions to sell cerveza, vino or liquores.
As we enjoy sharing time with others over our meals and because I talk too much we were interested in discovering how the village would deal with this
evolving situation. We asked Doc, we asked others, we tried all the other restaurants in town which we already knew. They are all good.
Gringos tend to group at Costa del Sol. Their food is superior. The palapas offer breezes off the sea and vistas beyond comparison. Unless you want
a great, intimate moment at Guillermos and bacon-wrapped scallops as an entr?e.
But of all the restaurants we experienced on this trip, the small palapa on the right entering town from the highway offered the very best atmosphere.
It changes of course, from time to time, but we tried several dishes at Palapa Reina, with four inside tables and one outside. October weather was
warm and Mary Ann and I ordered tacos or pescado empanizado and other dishes randomly and they were all well prepared. Who could have expected
otherwise? All the restaurants in the village are good.
On an afternoon over a beer and a Coke and a meal at Reina?s her husband introduced himself to us. His name is Selino. He sat with us at the outdoor
table. We knew their family from the food cart days. Their son was nearby, playing with the camp pup and an older dog from the village. We shared
conversation for an hour or more, learning of each other and swapping experiences. They were from the mainland, had come to Baja for a buck or a peso
and who knows what else. We?re all wanting to experience something new in life.
Over the days, weeks we experienced more of Reina?s family. Selino, in the afternoon?s when the restaurant business is slow, makes his circuit to the
campos along the water of the bay, selling tee shirts, wood carvings and other goods the backwater tourists that come to the bay might like.
Across time we learn from each other. Mary Ann and I absorb details of his family, of a difficult and yet very full life. We have discrete
opportunities to watch their son playing?their pets?the caring efforts they put into their environment.
One other afternoon we?re in the village and looking for lunch. Friends from Gecko are dining at OUR table at Reina?s and we opt to leave them their
space and head for Guillermo?s, which was closed. We returned to Palapa Reina to join with our pals. They were talking with Reina and Selino about
music as we pulled chairs up and joined with the conversation.
Selino grabbed a guitar and gently strokes a few bars, fingers placed just so across cleffs. Reina?s eyes drifted away from the conversation as if
caught in an invisible web. Conversation stopped but not awkwardly, in anticipation, although we knew not what to expect.
Simple gut-string pluckings across a mid-afternoon, sitting in the shade of a fronded palapa with a cerveza, a good wife, close friends we are still
discovering, and warm music is hard to beat.
Selino?s soon playing hearty but disassociated chords and Reina?s looking misty eyed. The rest of us anticipate. Reina looks into the eyes of
Selino. I, at least, recognize a connection, a simple communication of desire, of heart.
Selino connects a few chords and I instinctively know a song is working between them. And then it comes, a merging of talents and spirits, in a great
wave, in my mind at least: Selino tocando la guitara, touching the guitar, and Reina llorando las palabras, crying the words. A proud woman voicing
melodically her pent up frustrations at life in an unfair world. My words, not hers.
Selino and Reina played several songs and soon our friends were headed down the long stretch of dirt from Bahia de Los Angeles to San Raphael for a
visit with friends they knew well. Mary Ann and I wished them well and listened to the music and then ordered a taco plate we shared. There were no
other customers to disrupt our conversations that lazy afternoon on a beautiful day in the Bay of L.A.
The weather is great during the right times of the year, the fishing can be wonderful and the wildlife cannot be matched anywhere. Many of us
familiar with the bay know this already. The everchanging heart of the bay keeps us alive. In a single word to me tonight, at least, it is:
simplicity.
What???
David K - 10-20-2004 at 08:02 PM
No beer at Las Hamacas??!!
Is my Viva Baja sticker still on the window? (this is akin to the 'A' rating in stateside restaurants)... Looks like Reina's may be the new digs for
us??
Was China (Chee nah) running her stand, serving birria Sundays (or is it Saturdays?)?
Good to meet all the locals when you plan on living there, soon. I know you will be the quickest to be as much like them of any gringo transplant!
Say on another note, did you catch my reference to POT II on Baja Talk Radio (yesterday's show)... I was discrete, to protect the innocent.
David
Mike Humfreville - 10-20-2004 at 09:08 PM
I didn't (catch a ref to POT II).
How do I do that?
marla - 10-21-2004 at 04:28 PM
So why the changes at Las Hamacas?
Hi Marla,
Mike Humfreville - 10-21-2004 at 05:15 PM
What I know about the Las Hamacas situation is limited.
Jose and Delia originally owned and operated the restaurant for many years. It is an institution in Bahia, good food, predictability, good folks and
on and on. A few years back I think Jose and Delia leased or rented the restaurant to another person. I've seen him there every trip south. The
food and menu remained good. I never noticed any changes.
On our trip earlier this month we went there and ordered pescado empanizado. They didn't have it. Then we ordered scallops. They didn't have them
either. So we asked what they did have, were given an abbreviated list of the normal menu and I ordered a beer. They no longer sold beer. When we
were served the food was the same quality as always, good. When I asked the waitress what was happening she told me that they were moving to a
building next door and changing the menu to focus on mariscos. That, I thought, would make some of us happy.
Later that trip I spotted Jose working on his hotel and stopped to ask him what was changing. He told me, in a conversation in both Spanish and
English, that the Fellow who was leasing the restaurant was moving to another location, the building immediately north of the original and that he
thought the menu would be the same as it was previously. Mixed information.
Mary Ann and I went to the new building. It's positioned facing more or less east and has a small patio not big enough to place a table and chairs.
Now I was worried as many folks enjoy the patio at the original location.
And that's everything I know. I would never criticize Las Hamacas, they have always been our favorite place to eat in the village. I hope, whatever
they choose to do, that they are successful. If the projected changes occur, I will miss their breaded fish and chili rellenos, but will try their
new offerings next door. As I mentioned, there are a number of other great places to eat at the Bay.
Thanks Mike
Eli - 10-22-2004 at 05:27 PM
My mind wound up in a tad a of jumble today, and simplicity and home was what I was lookin for tonight. Your story brought me that. Saludos, Sara
Mike Humfreville - 10-22-2004 at 08:01 PM
Sara,
Thanks for kind words. Where are you now, on the mainland or back in Baja? From what you've said I figured you were still in Oaxaca, but I wasn't
sure. More stories please!!
Yep, Mike
Eli - 10-23-2004 at 08:41 PM
I am still in Oaxaca. I have made a commitment to leave here an accomplished silk screener and I am determind good days and bad, (just like anywhere,
no matter how good it is, can't get away from yourself), to complete my meta.
Today, I am sitting here with fingers stained blue and a long day behind me. Registered and printed a small edition of one of my favorite designs that
I drew a couple of years back, "Escape from a Mermaids Dream", some of the T'shirts came out soooooooooo chingon bonita and some were really so, so y
nada mas. Ah but, I must say, each was it's own uniquie expression on a theme, as I played with the colors which were printed on tye'dyes, I had some
way fun moments today, for sure I would call the edition a success.
Still, as magical as Oaxaca is, of course I have moments when I miss home.
In fin, my new reservation to fly back to Baja is for March 1st, in time to greet the new grandbaby. And, For the fifth season of Baja Shakespeare; I
am promised a small but as always a juicy part in our local production of "Taming of the Shrew", which comes down during Easter Weekend, and I
wouldn't miss that opportunity for anything.
Anyway, even though I am quite more than not, and often forget to mention that I am enjoying your writing, I do. You know way back when I very first
posted on the Amigos board, it was because I was inspired by your stories.
Saludos, Sara
Sara,
Mike Humfreville - 10-24-2004 at 02:39 AM
I envy your moments with days that, while otherwise full, are open to seeking out new experiences reflecting on events, sharing them.
I think our lives are very different, from others, and from our selves. But we have our love for observance in common.
I have spent my life in busyville, trying to prove myself, first to myself and then others, and getting away to Baja and other places to absorb and
reflect, too, but for shorter periods than you.
You have spent a great deal of time living on a more permanent basis in Baja (and that, in itself, would be a most interesting story).
I read your words, written about simple moments of your day with ?the tiller, the baker, the candlestick maker? (if I can correctly remember that old
English poem which could be so mundane), but, reading them through your words, they become fresh and new because of the sensitivity you put into your
reception of detail, your capturing of that detail, and the otherwise unnoticed observance that you grab and put to pen. And you have something that
I cannot yet bring to the canvas. You have depth and the perception related to that depth.
I am still the ?fellow passing through,? perhaps I always will be.
You have the natural endurance that provides insight to write about a scene you have watched unfolding for years.
I can write about changes to the restaurant scene in Bahia de Los Angeles.
You can write about the depths of soul that exist within a single familial situation of strife or of completeness over an extended period.
Your stickwithitness, personality, style and ability to see into details give you a great talent.
Write on, Sara.
Amigo Miguel
Well Gosh Don Miguel,
Eli - 10-24-2004 at 12:24 PM
Thanks for the push on the writing. As Ol Don Bernie can tell you; I run real hot or cold, sometimes it flows and other times, nothing worth saying
comes to mind for weeks on end.
I gotta tell you though, one thing we do have in common being; I just spent the last 15 or so years in an Arse kicking job, deteremind to prove
myself. Contracting in Baja is as stressful an experinse as I ever had in the last 53 years I have spent on this planet.
Ironic, that I went to Baja to lay back and be mellow and wound up developing a nervous tick in my eye. That tick is gone now, and I did prove my
worth at what I did, and am ever so glad that I did it, but sure am even more glad now that I am done.
Saludos, Sara