May is a season of transition. May is dusty. Tourists & seasonal folks leave. A few people like us, linger behind with the locals, recovering from the high season. May is the month of diarrhea...if you are going to get sick, it is going to be May. The humidity & heat creep back. Food borne bacteria lurk...yearning for an unsuspecting intestinal tract to call home. Fortunately (knock on wood), this was somebody else's May, not mine. May is the month of 'puentes', three day weekends- throughout the entire month!
The high season hustle brings negligence of basic house chores. Changing out sink faucets and painting the outside of the house is a musical chairs rotation of projects. This May, we finally had a driveway paved....taking away any white-trash status, of parking on the grass {turned to dirt} within our community.
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The fiesta patronales come to La Cruz in May. Nine days of 5 a.m wake up calls for mass, evenings filled with rickety carnival rides & cultural events in the plaza. May brought vegan ice-cream to La Cruz. Some hip chicas have transformed their grandparents 'heladerias michoacanas' recipes to coconut based versions of the famous culinary art. I am holding myself personally responsible for ensuring their business makes it through until the next high season.
And, here comes June. One month deep into hurricane season, along the Pacific Coast of Mexico. We pray for rain. Although the first rainstorm is a bitch. Bat poop from the millions of freeloading tenants in our roof tiles, runs down the front of our white house. The streets flood & trash clogs the few existing drains. Our clothing attire transforms to only bikinis, while at home and the skimpiest of clothing for slithering around in the heat outside. Most of the clothing I wear in June is stained from sweat. Sexy, eh? Beinvenidos June.
