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by Karen McConnaughey

I heard from my friend Kitt Vincent again. You might remember her from a previous blog, Journaling from Lake Chapala Mexico. She is involved in so many things that I’m just amazed by the vitality of both her and her husband Bill. Again, her journal was full of all the wonderful and interesting things they have been doing, but at the end, she takes time out to talk about the serenity of our wonderful area. I enjoyed it so much I wanted to share it with you.

“Now in the middle of all of this busy-ness, there is still time to sit quietly in an open air restaurant, listening to latin jazz, eating good food with a gentle breeze and a setting sun.  People have corn growing in their yards and mangos are ripening on the trees.  People use a long pole with a net on the end to pick avocados, mangos and other fruit off of the trees that line the streets.  Our neighbors have some new baby chicks and the other day Bill had to turn up the TV because the roosters were too loud.  I love this place!  The donkey still cries at night to be with her mate in the next house.  The dogs know we belong here so they only bark when there are new people walking on our street.  I love driving through the small villages on our way home and seeing families sitting out in front of their houses having a meal with grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins;  you know…just everybody.  And I love seeing the young people standing in the shadows of the doorways sneaking a kiss.”

Kitt reminds me again of the simple pleasures of the Lake Chapala area…the enjoyable, 50s-like existence that is one of the reasons most people decide to move here permanently. As Bill and I walk down our street or drive through the village, we say ‘hola’ to everyone or wave at them in the distance. We are greeted with instant smiles and a ‘buenos dias’ each time. No one looks at us like we’re crazy because they don’t know us. The families…grandparents, babies, sisters, nieces, and uncles and papas, all generations…all sitting together on their stoop or plastic chairs, enjoying the evening breezes and catching up on the day, or just watching the kids jump rope or play soccer in the street. No one’s rushing, no one’s yelling and no one’s crying…unless, of course, a toddler falls down and skins his knee. That doesn’t last long though, because someone from the large family get-together will pick him up, kiss his cheek and his boo-boo, dust him off and send him off to play again. There are little gatherings of folks too around central areas…tortilla carts, fruit stands, tamale vendors…it kind of reminds me of the old village store with the pot-belly stove where men would gather to tell tall tales. As you hear the laughter wafting on the breezes, you just know a few tall tales are being spun here too.

We enjoy our simple life…we enjoy our village, and we know we are very, very lucky to have been here for six years and still in love with the place and our decision to retire to Mexico.