Alas...

I am married.  Why, yes, I am.  I am utterly and completely exhausted from making up the sorry-excuse we have for an apartment.  I've nearly gone mad with decorations.  

I suppose you may want to know about Puerto Vallarta.  It was unbelieveable gorgeous, as is to be expected.  It also was no hotter than 90 degrees and the ocean was fantastically warm.  I loved it.  It rained every night, some nights more than half a foot.  The rich Mexicans barely navigated the flooded streets with their Jeeps and Ford trucks.

What a strange feeling, being in another world--one that is bipolar and starkly different than it's posh resorts.  Breck and I took the bus and accidently ended up in the ghetto.  By ghetto, I mean smalll one bedroom cement houses with thrown together tin roofs.  Many had the front doors wide open, and you could easily step into their world.  Beds close together, children on aunts' and uncles' laps, watching an old small television from the 1970s, if they were lucky. The mothers may have been cooking or just getting off.  it was around 8:30 and that seemed to be a big shift change, as everyone hopped on the already crowded buses to make it home. I wonder how their roofs held up in the torrential rains.  A tour guide told us it rained eight feet last year in the month of August.  Now that, my folks, is insane.  The locals kept apologizing for the weather, adding that if we had come in May or June, it wouldn't be so rainy.  We told them that we didn't mind, coming from 110 degree plus weather with less than 1/4 of the rainfall than usual this year.  We have wild fires and dying trees.  But we're still better than Dallas.  Everything is dead there right now.

When we ended up in the ghetto, we managed to tell the non-English speaking driver about our hotel, and he then directed us to another bus.  The bus drive home took another hour and fifteen minutes, because the driver litterally stopped every five feet to pick up another local.  Usually it was women toting their toddlers or babies, or lone men getting off of the job late.  None of them looked at us or acknowledged we were even there.  We just watched them, silently. 

The buses have no air conditioning...absolutely stifling.  Needless to say...I am glad to be home in the states.