Walden World

The wacky and wonderful tales of Beth's and Catherine's global adventures. And all things Walden too.

Wednesday, March 08, 2017

Rudy is Dancing

In the 80 degree heat Puerto Escondido can remind one of that scene in 'Lawrence of Arabia' where Omar Shariff, warns Lawrence that they most now cross the desert of death: 'The Anvil of the Sun!'.

OK, it's not that dramatic but it is really, really blasting hot and you wither as soon as you step away from the shade.

That is why all sensible Mexicans siesta between 2 and 4 pm.

Yesterday I had a fabulous massage from a  Bruha.  She lives next to out hotel and her massage room is three stories up in a palapa, traditional palm thatched roof, with a beautiful view of the ocean.  Cool breezes relieve the heat. She calls her rooftop and escaletes,  'The Stairway to Heaven'.

After my massage I wandered back to the hotel. All the power in the town had been out since early morning and the Internet had crashed repeatedly since the day prior.  I started getting Trump panic.  Had he just pushed the button?

Man, I thought, I don't want to live out the plot of 'On the Beach'.

Trying to get control of my presidential anxiety, I elected to go for a walk.  It is the most cool by the sea.  I went to the beach bar where my surfer friend from Baha works and sat down and ordered an ice cold dry white wine.

The breeze was pretty flimsy and there was a silence in the small town because of the power outage.  All the shops just closed up.

A few small time fishermen of dubious distinction came up to sell me a fishing tour.  When that didn't work they then whispered "you like smoke weed, get you weed?"

No Gracias.

A few minutes later a worn older guy I had seen before walked up to the table. I saw him the first day we arrived. He sported a small green parrot on his Sombrero. By this I mean the ubiquitous Mexican version of a Panama hat.

He asked me if I wanted  a canoe on the Laguna where birds and wildlife are abundant. I had been out the morning prior from 6:30 am to 1:00 pm so I had, had a lot of Laguna.  But also I was flying out the next day at 8 am.

He said he understood and sat down at the table weary from the assaulting heat.

Que nombre, esta, parrot?

Where are you from he asked. Canada I replied.

The little parrot jumped down onto his hand. "He attacked by eagle and he broke wing so he not fly.  I have no son.  I have only animals.  No house. We live with trees. In Hammocks."

He showed photos of him with his wife in a traditional laguna palapa house without concrete.  He was one of the 400 traditional fisherman who fish the laguna. Also some turistas he took out and his many dogs who he calls his sons.

The parrot was now walking on the table.  Can I see him I ask?  "Yes his name Rudy."

Rudy walked up to me and I thought he was trying to bite me.

"No, no. He fine, tell him no bite turistas."

I put my hand down and Rudy hopped on my finger. He was a chatty little thing looking me directly in the eye and talking to me like an engaging 3 year old. I have no idea what you are saying little fellow, I said, but he kept chattering away.  Not repeated calls just this string of extremely varied sounds like he was just telling me things all while looking at me and waiting for some reply.

The old man sat and told me more about his life.  Then Rudy jumped down from my finger just about the same time the power went on.

The beach restaurant was suddenly blasting 'Bad' by Micheal Jackson and then Rudy started doing the weirdest thing I've seen.  He was turning his head and body exactly like Mick Jagger. I am not making this up. The old guy laughed.

"Rudy is Dancing! He likes music. To dance!"

The song changed and Rudy got interested instead,in trying to pull the serviettes out of the dispenser and groom himself on them.

The old guy, now we had introduced ourselves, was Margarito, his wife Margorita, and they had 15 cats.

Again he said sadly, "I have no son. Only the animals.  But we are animals too, humans, we all family."

He pulled out a recorder and started playing to get Rudy to dance again. But Rudy was still talking to me and focused on grooming himself on the table napkins.

Then there was a weird sound behind me and Margorito, had me look behind.  A huge black bird and smaller black grackle, were sitting on the chairs directly behind me and actually dancing. Staring at us and chattering to us.

Again, doing the Mick Jagger moves, folding out their wings in small flaps, head bobs and tail wags.

It was then that I knew Margorito was a shaman.

Rudy was still interested in the napkins and then took a poo on the table and walked up to Margorito's recorder and kept biting on the end, I think, to make him stop.

I think Rudy really had a preference for dance music.

They got up and we bid farewells, Rudy jumping back atop Margorito's Sombrero.


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