Early Morning On The Beach

There’s just something really special about getting to the beach early in the morning. And, truth be told, I am more a morning person.
The sun is about, popping out from behind the passing puffs of clouds that always seem to be present here. The water “exploding” into that unearthly turquoise glow every time the sun parts from a cloud. The morning breeze dispelling any sense of tropical heat and humidity. The promise of yet another beautiful day, despite the tiny sprinkles falling on my skin at this moment.
The chairs. The umbrellas, they are largely in place and await todays throngs.
The beach crew is here , probably since daybreak, busily raking the seaweed washed ashore last night, digging holes in the sand and burying it. Like most things here it happens everyday. Those daily rhythms I’m always going on about.
At my feet, a little team of Sand Pipers, zigging and zagging, peck pecking at the sand. They are mesmerizing.
An old and stooped woman walks by the waters edge, searching for seashells, her mesh bag by now holds several. I don’t ever see any when I walk the beach, no doubt she is the reason why.
Staff, they all greet me upon arrival, “buenos dias, como esta?” or maybe “todo bien? “, greetings exchanged, wishes for a good day “buen dia”, everyday it starts anew, just as the last.
A few more people wander onto the beach, there to lay claim to their little square of paradise for the day. Front row and center! The privilege of an early arrival, that’s me!
When I was a younger man at the beach, I always wondered , why do the “old gits” always have the front row chairs? Well... now I know. I’m one of those “old gits” now and it’s ‘cause I get here early. The view’s grand and the breezes delicious. As I pass through the chairs behind me, I look at the faces, mostly younger than I, and I just smile.
I gaze to my left, a beautiful arc of white stretching out of sight, rimmed on the left by green palms and on the right by the lovely glow of that turquoise water. Soft white waves wash ashore. Only a few people in sight, milling about the white sand, a few maybe two or three playing in the surf.
Soon, being Sunday, it will be almost cheek to jowl.
But, for now, paradise!
The privileges of an early arrival.

Todo bien!

Hey Mon, don't worry, be happy, get braided

For reasons I don't fully understand myself I have always wanted the "Island Girl braids" so I decided it was time to get me some.

Many of the shops here offer, amoung other things, hair braiding. They have signs in front that say "Your name on a bracelet in 5 minutes, Your name on a grain of rice, Temporary Henna Tattoos and Hair Braiding". Last year I had gotten one of those temporary Henna tattoos, a sleek gecko about 9 inches long on the side of my leg - one that you could not miss. This year I was going to get some braids. Knowing that I wanted to get some, I had eyed for several days, the shop across the street from the hotel. It was one of those small family owned businesses. They offered the general tourist stuff, the mayan calendar plaques, t-shirts, silver jewelry, shell earrings, resin figurines of Spanish dancers, embracing lovers, Mayan pyramids and skull heads, hammocks and those colorful woolly blankets that you can't imagine anyone in the tropics using ... and they braided hair.

I went in the shop and was immediately approached by a very friendly young man. "I am interested in braids" I said. Their sister does the braiding, they told me, "she is a professional". He and his brothers brought out pictures for me to look at and sample braids. "Lady she can be here in 5 minutes, there is a man next door he does the braiding but they are fat, my sister do fine braids, she is a professional" . They kept showing me pictures and the hair she used for extensions "Lady you should get extensions". "It takes between 2 - 21/2 hours to get all of it braided - my sister is a professional". I was about to learn that Mexican hours are like country miles.

Just as they predicted she was there in minutes and before I knew it I was getting my hair braided. For a while they were interested in me, talking to me in broken English about which hip-hop artists they liked, did I like Mexico, how early his baby daughter woke him up this morning. One of the guys even tried to sell me some silver jewelry while I getting my hair braided - I think the look on my face made him realize the futility of it.

After a while I became invisible to them. and they went about their business while the sister braided my hair and braided my hair and braided my hair. A roaming mariachi band cranked up at a nearby Italian restaraunt to seranade the tourists for tips. They played what seems to be the same song all mariachi bands play, but this band had an incredible trumpeter. Lost in the moment one of the brothers moved into the street and danced that fast feet shuffle they do to that music. The brothers stood in the street calling to the tourists trying to get them in the shop to have a look and spend some pesos.

After a couple of hours the brothers started closing up the shop taking down the hammocks, t-shirts and moving the table of silver jewelry back into the shop. They hung grates up over the opening and closed the gate reminding their sister how to lock the gate. And their sister kept braiding my hair.

After they left, she put in a CD of slower Mexican ballads and sang low and sweetly while she braided my hair and braided my hair and braided my hair. "Lady you can be my assistant" she said showing me to hold my hands up and spread my fingers. She laced little bits of the fake hair for the extensions between my fingers so she could grab them when she was ready without having to stop the braiding. Over and over she partitioned tiny sections of hair on my head and braided, adding in the hair extentsions. She must have laced hair in my 10 fingers, 4 or 5 times. You could tell that she took pride in what she did and she even said "I like my job too much" and she braided on. "Lady you can wash with leetle, leetle shampoo and much water, one day yes, 3 days no, one day yes, 3 days no". This I took to mean you can wash it every 4 days. "Ok to swim tho". I couldn't figure out how swimming was ok but the washing was not, I guess it must be that "leetle, leetle" shampoo that is the problem.

At one point a tourist couple came by looking in thru the grates at the wares. "Come in, come in, look please" she said and managed to lure them in all the while braiding my hair. "You like" she said as they were admiring a tacky tourist mayan calendar plaque, " 20 dollars US", she said. The man indicated it was too much, she stopped braiding momentarily and looked the plaque up in a booklet as if it was a rare artifact "180 pesos" she said. They haggled, she braided my hair and they settled on 150 pesos, which is about $11 dollars US.

After a while a friend of hers showed up and stood outside the grates talking at high speed in Spanish - they chatted and she braided my hair. The friend left and she resumed singing the Mexican ballads, it was the same CD and just kept playing over and over, after a while I could have sang along.

After just 4 1/2 short hours I heard what I had been anxiously waiting to hear "Ok lady feenished". She showed me in the mirror - I was shocked I looked so different with the long "Island Girl braids". She had done a magnificint job, I later counted 58 braids, each about 14 inches long, no wonder it took 4 1/2 hours. They were very fine braids, not the fat ones, and just as her brother had said, "she was a professional". Before leaving I asked her name - Sandra, which they pronounce Sondra, hmmm, what a coincidence.

One of the little secrets about getting your hair braided all over is that you get a complementary face lift - they pull the braids very tight - I guess so they will stay in. As they braid you don't notice this, but the more the braid, it is cummulative. It makes your head throb a bit, but you get used to it. The next day I walk by the shop and the sister came out to greet me. "Lady you like your braids?" She admired her work and touched the braids on top of my still throbbing head. "Too much ouch?" she asks. I said "Si, un poco" ("yes, a little) "You come back in a week and I will switch the elastics". Apparently the rubber bands break down from the sun, but actually some of them snapped over night but the hair stays braided because .... did I mention ... the braids are very tight.

I guess I must have had some sub-conscious Bo Derek envy, remember the movie "10" from circa 1980? That head full of braids? Well, now I got my own. I have always been slow to follow fads, which is why just 30 years later I jumped on this one. I have to admit in all honestly that I would not have done it if I had know it would take 4 1/2 hours and your head would throb when it was done. But , thanks to the young man's over salesmanship and under estimate of how long it would take, I figuratively speaking, had "scrathed an itch". Now a few days later, I literally want to "scratch an itch". Once the throbbing stops the itching starts, I think partly from the feeling returning to your scalp and partly from the "wash one day yes, three days no". I can't wait to cut off the rubber bands and give my head the scratching and the scrubbing of its life.

Hey Mon ... Don't get braided, be happy

P.S.

The truth is I didn't think the braids flattered me at all, but it is a little hard to come to terms with that after spending 4 1/2 hours getting it done and quite a few pesos. They were uncomfortable to sleep on and there was "too much ouch" and "too much itch". I only lasted 4 days with the braids. Now I find out what takes 2 to 2 1/2 hours that the young man had said. It is the removing of the braids. Kevin spent a little over 2 hours taking out the braids. Clipping the extension ends off and using a pencil to unbraid the hair, you have to start at the bottom and work up the braid removing each overlap, if you try to start higher the hair tangles horribly. Kevin did not sing Mexican ballads low and sweetly while he unbraided the hair and he did not "like his work too much", but he was a trooper and did unbraid my hair. I don't think I could have done it myself. Once done I had the afro of all afros. I had to brush my hair quite a while but it did not tame down until I washed it and used some conditioner and then it was just as if the braids had never been there. That is the most I ever enjoyed washing my hair. We both agreed that I would not have my hair braided all over again. So I have done the temporary tattoo, the head full of all braids, I think in the future there is a gonna be a grain of rice with my name all over it.