Heaven

Day Two: 

My first day in Ajijic left me despondent and wanting to go home. Buying a Diet Coke and unable to understand the store clerk just about did me in. It turned out, I was simply exhausted and grumpy from the overnight flight. After a good night's sleep, I awoke to see my surroundings at Namaste Village, the spiritual retirement center where I was staying. 

The mountain air was cool and dry. It just felt good to be out in it. The casitas in the Village were so colorful, they almost seemed surreal. The scent of jasmine perfumed the air while tweets and chirps and squawks of various birds along with the crowing of roosters filled the morning. It turned out I had, maybe, found paradise. I certainly "wasn't in Kansas anymore."

I thought it was strange that the residents kept referring to a "mirror door". It turned out that they were talking about a mirador (a "lookout"). My own casita had one; a roof deck. What a view! I could drink some serious morning coffee up here:

Later that day, I went exploring. I needed food and had been looking forward to sampling as much local fare as possible. 

Armed with embarrassingly rudimentary Spanish, I headed into a little fruteria (fruit store), and noticed the most gorgeous fruits and vegetables you could imagine. Whole Foods Market had nothing on this modest little place. Neither did Eden, I imagine. "So this is what food looks like!" I thought. 

I smiled at the elderly woman at the counter and used my magic phrase: "Estoy aprendiendo español." ("I am learning Spanish.") The most genuine smile you could ever imagine was graciously given back to me. Grandma took matters in hand and soon, I had a ten-pound bag of bounty. A papaya, avocados, mangoes, guavas, (which, it turned out, are the most delicious, gorgeously-scented fruits ever created), little plums that tasted like strawberries, and actual strawberries grown locally. All for about $3.00. Oh, and those juicy Driscoll strawberries that cost $6.99 a pint at Whole Foods? They're grown right there along Lake Chapala. 

This grandma's smile and helpfulness truly melted my heart. I actually teared up. She and her beaming face turned everything around. I am a "foodie" and this interaction was foodie-heaven. 

Having sampled my first guava, I now dreaded leaving this place and being guava-less. I don't ever want to be guava-less. 

Thanks to this grandma, I was now in heaven. 

A typical haul from the fruteria, costing about three dollars