pescadora buena, pescadora muerta - katie halloran

if there were be two phrases to sum up this trip so far, they would be, "i love my life" and "where ARE we right now?". the first is self-explanatory, but the second i find myself constantly saying because i end up in the most ridiculous and crazy situations that i would have never imagined being in, let alone in mexico. por ejemplo, instead of preparing for my midterms, i spent this past weekend at two separate beaches. doesn't sound too wild, right? well, on friday (i'll take this opportunity to mention that we don't have class on fridays!!!) a group caught the bus to progreso. it costs about two dollars to get there and back, and it's about a thirty minute bus ride, although time passes quickly because there is typically a guitarist serenading all of the passengers. we swam, laid out, had a cheap but delicious lunch, and then began to walk back to the bus stop. on the way, christine spotted a bathing suit in one of the shops, and so we separated from the rest of the group so that she could have a closer look. the shop was a mix of convinient store/bathing suit shop/restaurant/bar, and while christine tried on her potential purchase, i started talking to the store owner, francisco. he asked if i spoke spanish, if i was a student, etc., and when he found out that i was taking some anthropology classes, he began to explain his past career as a tour guide. we became fast friends. i bought a bottle of jamaica (a mexican beverage made from hibiscus), and he asked why i wasn't drinking beer. in between trying to explain that i wasn't in the mood to drink and him showing off all the brands of beer in the cooler, christine returned to pay for her bathing suit. this was only a minor distraction. he became more persistent and offered us each a free shot of tequila. we thought why not, and he broke out a bottle, some limes, and salt. he was not satifised with only one, offering us another, and i'm pretty sure he would have had us empty the bottle had we not firmly refused. only in mexico can a simple purchase of a bathing suit turn into free shots (p.s. francisco wants to throw the group a party at his restaurant very soon). on saturday i had received an invite to the beach house of rachel and kara's host family. the drive itself was an adventure. we piled seven humans (professor included) and one dog into a car. once there, beto, a grandson of rachel and kara's host family, had forgotten his key so we all ventured to the pool with some snacks while we waited for someone to come let us in. the rest of the day was spent swimming, playing cards, and watching the mexico vs el salvador futbol partido because we had an early morning. at 5:45 a.m. our alarms went off, and we quickly threw on our suits to meet our fishing guide, pepe, at the beach. mind you, when told that we were going fishing, all of us expected a decent-sized boat with actual fishing rods. not the case. pepe, rolls up in this tiny, wooden contraption with the motor practically duct-taped and super-glued to the back. it took awhile to even start, and i began to imagine myself stranded at sea as pepe attempted to row us back to shore. after a twenty minute ride out, pepe pulls out six large spools of fishing line with hooks tied to the end. he then pulls out some tiny fish, which he chops into little pieces. we were all a little sea sick at this point, and personally i almost tossed my cookies right there. rachel was definitely on the same page because shortly after i got a great view of vomit chucks floating in my direction. lydia was next to go. just more food for the fish, right? so stomachs emptied we continued on. fishing sisal style consists of just holding a piece of fishing line, and then we you get a bite, just jerk the line until you hook a fish. then you have to reel them in bare-handed. i dominated some fishing, which i attribute all to the straw fisherman's hat that beto let me borrow. they started calling me "pescadora buena", and pepe, noting a passed out passenger on the side of the boat, referred to rachel as "pescadora muerta." pepe really got a kick out the four gringas vomitting off the side of his boat, especially kara. her spanish skills are epic. they consist of phrases such as, "buuuuueeeeenoooo" and "puedo cerveza", pepe lauging at both. he even started repeating her ridiculously voiced, dying cat call, "bueno". upon returning to the shore, we had a feast of the fish we caught, crashed a birthday party by the pool (equipped with beer, birthday cake, and techno music), and watched "legally blonde". i really can't comprehend how i end up in these situations, but when in mexico, live as the mexicans do.