My First Night in Chacala- a story about no stories

For those of you following my adventures, and my dream, here is the end of this traveling part of the saga.

After an exciting and boring five-day drive from home in northern California, I arrived in Chacala, Nayarit, in the late afternoon of Friday.  What a relief to be out of the truck, to be "home" in Chacala, and especially to be able to move into my new house here.

Local people showed up to help me move all the boxes into the house, some downstairs, some up to the vacation rental unit where I will be living until the main house downstairs is improved, furnished and beautified.

It was getting dark by the time we finished, so I walked into "town" to welcome myself to Chacala.  It was a warm and balmy evening-- just the way I like them.  After saying Hello, I stopped by Las Brisas, wiggled a plastic chair into the sand, and ordered a real margarita to celebrate.  The half-moon was hanging overhead, the moonlight was glistening on the gentle surf, and there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be.

About the time I finished the margarita, I became aware of the word "Teotihuacan" drifting on the tropical air, and turned to discover a couple, his brother, and their two little kids at a table behind me.  The brother had just been at Teo, and was describing his visit.

Of course I had to say: "Excuse me, but you just said my Magic Word." They invited me to join them, and we shared our stories.  Suddenly, one of them said, "Hey, you must be the guy that wrote the book on Toltec Wisdom that is in the room we are staying in here!"

Yup.  I knew I was home!

After we parted company, I slowly walked back to my room to sleep.  The moon was bright, the air was so very soft, and I was in no hurry.  I turned the key in the door lock and went around and around and around.  The lock had broken.  I couldn't get into my room.

As I stood there comprehending my circumstances, mildly buzzed on the tropics, I noticed that I was not telling myself any stories about my situation-- there was only curiosity about what Life would offer next.  I liked that.  And so, of course, I turned the key around and around again!

I walked downstairs and into the street, and thought: "OK, Life, show me."  I turned right.  I strolled.  When I got to Antonia's, I knew she might be a source of a bed for the night in one of her rentals.  She wasn't home.  So, I walked a few more blocks, bought a bottle of water, came back, and waited in the dark.

When Antonia came home she was happy to see me, and I was happy to see her.  She offered me a bed in a little unit, and as she moved the plastic chairs out of the from doorway with no door (it was in town being painted) she said: "Thank goodness there aren't any thieves in Chacala."  It was hot, and I slept.

In the morning, the former owner of my house, borrowed a big rickety ladder next door, climbed into the vack patio of my carefully locked room, opened the door, and replaced the lock for me.

Later in the day, I noticed gazillions of tiny little ants streaming across the bed.  I followed them until I found their secret lair-- under the mattress!  If I had slept in that bed the nigh before, it would have been very interesting.  "Man's Tropical Dream House Becomes Nightmare!"

Now, all is well.

Thank You, Life.