Days in Paradise

Click here for the history of San Pancho as told on the town mural.

A bright green soccer field under blue skies, the sun setting over the beach casts a sideways glow on the brown-skinned crowd. The people here are beautiful.

The buildings on the green hill behind are painted in yellow, ochre and lime, with purple flowers. People are happy and having a good time. It’s hard to know where to begin describing this beautiful Mexican village on the beach, or as they say here, la Playa.

First, let me put down this excellent margarita I am drinking under open sky in this lovely restaurant roofed by palm trees and stars. It is hard to chose whether to sit in the courtyard where the brick pavers ripple over the huge roots of a magnificent gringo tree (it has lovely pink wood and thin bark which peels in the sun) or with my bare feet buried in the warm sand (loving the delicious sense of getting away with something that feels so good).

People spend a lot of time outside here. Town meetings are held on the plaza, between the white mission church and the park by the beach. A lot of socializing in the evening happens on the lushly planted sidewalks and the cobblestone streets. Walk a couple of blocks on a languid evening and you might see a hundred people hanging out, talking, playing games, cooking, and eating dinner (fish with lime and chile).

Right now, I am listening to a jazz band and finishing a great meal. There is a couple on the dance floor. They are moving beautifully. They smile a lot and move with precision and the slightest hint of self-consciousness. He is probably ten, she is maybe 12 and a head taller. We are definitely having a good time.

Outside at the soccer game, the warm wet air is cut by a cool ocean breeze. Behind the church, a young couple is stealing a kiss. Rains can come in huge deluges here. The beach dams an estuary at the ocean end of a stream. It is a big event when, in August or September, it breaks through to the sea.

San Pancho is a fishing village of just over 2000 Mexicans, with a small gringo community, hundreds of kids (there are four schools), birds, wild horses, chickens, skinny cats, and the mellowest dogs you have ever met.

You can eat great food in several wonderful restaurants. Try eggs, sausage, and veggies for breakfast with fresh squoze juices (don’t miss pineapple and ginger). For lunch or dinner, there's stone-baked pizza, haute cuisine on a roof top restaurant, or fish tacos on the street corner.

Even white-collar business is done in shorts. People here work hard and are astonishingly productive. Construction projects, operating on a small scale with basic equipment, move amazingly fast. Homes and offices typically include simple, and delightful, aesthetics.

People get up early, go to work and get stuff done. At the same time, there is a fairly relaxed attitude around delays and breakdowns. Stress does not appear to be a major killer disease here. There is more time off. People are energetic about getting out and enjoying each other when they are not working.

There is a big party most weekends at the plaza—on the first day of spring, there is a parade with floats and kids in elaborate costumes (the parade takes several hours to traverse back and forth through our little town) There are also traveling carnivals, civic and religious holiday celebrations, dances for teens, and weddings.

There are delightful crafts and furniture stores, massage, yoga, beauty and spa care. You can surf, relax on a private stretch of beach, have a lounge chair conversation, or a dinner scored by sunset—there is plenty of room for all.

The grocery stores are a big disappointment for those accustomed to consumer palaces as a way of life. That is until you realize that in Mexico, you do not necessarily go to the stores, the stores come to you. Vendors driving pick-up trucks bring excellent fruits and vegetables to your door. Or you can stop by one of several farmer’s stands. Also delivered fresh on ice daily are meat and the day’s catch. Household supplies also come straight to your door. If you sleep in and miss your purchase, don’t worry, just look around and find that vendor on another street—the town is not that big. Also, when you hear the cowbell ringing in the morning, please leave your trash in a plastic bag by the curbside. The sanitation crew will pick it up for you.

Anyway, the band leader has just dedicated a song to the mother of the kids who were dancing. He is singing a lovely melody to his wife. I gotta go.