December 21
Most of this day was spent exploring the historical district
and walking the Mazatlán malecón, about 4 miles along gorgeous beaches. Charlie
and I realized we had somehow forgotten the whole point of the expedition: to
purchase a piñata. (Don’t they just grow on trees in Mexico?) Upon inquiring,
we learned of Mil Piñatas, a store downtown.
When the pulmonía driver escorted us to a tiny hole in the
wall on a narrow residential street, it almost seemed he must have made a
mistake, but a hand lettered sign confirmed the shop location. Inside it was
dark and about as big as our cabin, but with a high ceiling strung with wires
for hanging the piñatas. A small woman came out of the back room, also dark, in
which we glimpsed a man wrapping crepe paper around a paper maché form and a
helpful spotted dog. Speaking only in (my lame) Spanish we established that we
were looking for a small piñata. There wasn’t much choice. While getting our
bearings and adjusting to the dark, we looked again into the workroom. Beside
stacked newspapers I saw an orange cat and now three dogs. Along the back hung
half finished piñata bodies. Suddenly a chicken strode across the cement floor.
Talk about breaking the ice. I had to know if the chicken and the cat got
along. “Sí, son amigos” the lady told me.
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