My feud with the taxistas continues...I learn how to have the PC experience w/o the PC

When I arrived in the 90° heat of Puerto Vallarta on a Thursday afternoon in late July, I made two vows walking down on the tarmac: to avoid all taxistas for the duration of my trip, and to make an email fast until my last day in PV. In front of the terminal, there are buses to the Centro that pass frequently, so for 50 cents I was able to stumble on a bus, nearly drop all the cash and change from my wallet as the bus lurched forward, and find a seat in the very back. The great thing about not relying on taxis, but on bus and foot power, I had to start learning how to navigate the city from minute one, if I didn’t want the perdition of handing over a fistful of cash to a taxista.

On my first night in PV, I was fortunate enough to get to meet an amazing resident of PV – Rita. Her late husband, a former commander of Guantanamo Bay was related to my father, though I don’t have the brain power to figure out the branches linking the family trees. Her six-floor beach side condo, exquisitely decorated, with a treasure trove of books left no doubt that I was in the presence of someone who knew how to retire in style. After we talked on her patio discussing the Peace Corps and a book she had on Mexican culture, she treated me to dinner at Cafe de Olla, which was a great culinary introduction to Mexican food (my new diet plan, “go to a far-away land where you hate the food” would not work in Mexico). And she insisted I try some flan, which I dug, simple custard though it be.

She is a world traveler, multi-lingual intellectual, conversationalist, brilliant and funny at 90. It was interesting to hear that she had traveled in the Soviet Union, Iran in the 70’s, and across America in an RV which is when we had originally met when she and her husband stopped at our house when I was about 5 or 6 years old.

Walking back from the restaurant, imagine my surprise, when we stopped at an Internet Café for her to check email! Of course, I wasn’t really surprised at that point, but it was great to see that amidst the challenges of a pacemaker and physical decline, to see someone living independently as an active part of the wider community, as contrasted with the bleakness of a “Sunny Acres.”