Tag: #Mexico

My Small Melaque World

On By ellenbessoIn change, spirituality, travel1 Comment

The small beach community I called home for two months extends in one direction as far as I can walk without going along the beach or onto the hot streets, past the karaoke venue around the corner from Hotel Bahia and ending at Leovy Restaurant with its bamboo and rattan umbrellas. In the other direction it reaches the top of the Malecon boardwalk, about one and a half miles long, I overheard someone say.

My morning begins with a walk on the Malecon, all the way to the end if its not too hot, then coffee under a beach umbrella, served to me by Tito…if Tito is there the restaurant is open.

I sip my morning java while listening to the waves and watching the beauty of the unfolding morning, staying until I become too warm or my body insists it’s time to move. Forty pesos is a miniscule price for this uplifting experience.

From time to time I venture down the beach or into town for music or to my favourite breakfast place. Melaque has retained its simple Mexican tourist town feel, although busier now. The town centre is bustling and fun, quite different from the West Melaque beach energy, the friendly folk at Tito’s Restaurant where we eat and where the open mic shows take place.

Towards the middle of February things begin to change. While a few Canadian and American visitors prefer a late vacation, the long term folks at my hotel begin drifting home. Fewer musicians appear at the Tuesday evening “Jack and Friends” open mic, and the audience shrinks. I keep performing, Jack’s glad to have me I think, some of the other women singers have left, returning to jobs in Canada.

Only a quarter of the rooms at the hotel are occupied now. Short term visitors, mostly Mexican weekenders, will occupy the place from now on the manager tells me.

Last weekend the controversial new “big city” Mexican hotel at the end of the beach was fully occupied by busloads of middle class looking Mexicans from out of town. Other Mexican visitors have settled in for the day at Tito’s beach tables, with carryalls of food and bathing paraphernalia and the ubiquitous giant Coca Cola bottles.

The six month visitors like my music mentor Jack and his partner are still in residence until sometime in April, and the transplanted expats remain. Another great winter season is coming to an end.

Don Softly Returns

On By ellenbessoIn Grief, Positivity8 Comments

For many months, I sensed that this trip to Melaque, Mexico, would be life-changing in some unknown way, but I did not anticipate the unusual events that began on my arrival.

 The change began immediately, during my first dinner on the beach an hour or two after booking into Hotel Bahia Melaque. My first evening turned out to be a magical one on the beach at Tito’s.

After Tito’s daughter served me a delicious meal of shrimp, guacamole and tacos, I shared some of my story with her, saying my husband and I had visited Melaque in 2001.

 “What was your husband’s name,” she asked. I told her, and she went off back to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with another waiter, a lovely young man. “Our father remembers him”, they both said.

 I showed them a 20-year-old picture of Don and I, taken on a cruise down Indian Arm in the North Vancouver area, roughly about the time we came to Melaque. The next thing I knew, Tito himself showed up. “I remember him,” he said, looking at the picture, then he returned to his restaurant duties.

I was very touched and began to cry. Titos daughter, a warm mother of four, rubbed my back. But this experience was more than Tito remembering Don… Somehow, events and energies had converged that evening, and I felt Don’s presence there with me.

 As I ate my meal, a beautiful little girl, Chihuahua, the big-eared breed, appeared beside me, dressed in a pink coat. She sat quietly for a long time, finally going up on her back legs to ask for food. She turned down a taco, but she ate it when I added fat shrimp. I spoke to her, telling her I didn’t think shrimp was good for her, so did not give her anymore. At some point, she quietly faded away.

 I believed what the wonderful Mexican folks had told me, but I was very curious about why they asked me my husband’s name. The next day, I asked Titos daughter. “My grandmother says I’m a witch” she replied. “Oh, you’re psychic”, I said. Now, it made more sense to me.

That first Friday night, I also made a quick decision to sign up for the open mic the next day when I heard about it. I had been prevaricating about singing at the Gibsons Legion open mic for many months, and I thought it was time to just do it…To honour myself by taking my singing seriously.

In retrospect, I sense that Don planted the suggestion; he loved my singing and always supported me in it.

Something was set in motion that night, a significant step towards the emergence of my new life. My challenge now is to remain with spirit so as not to self-sabotage myself with doubts and sadness.

Post Script: In conversation with one of my hotel owners, I learned that Tito remembers many people who have come to his place. He also told me he has heard stories that this area is the place where people can reconnect with their loved ones in spirit.

When I spoke to Tito later, he said he was aware that people are able to get in touch with their deceased loved ones here at the beach near his restaurant”.

Both Tito and the hotel manager were unfamiliar with the term portal, so I explained it to them as a doorway to and from heaven. Perhaps this would help them understand more about their unique part of Mexico.