To start off, I didn’t take any pictures today and I am totally bummed.

Secondly, today felt like the longest day of my life.

My dad took the liberty if waking us up at 8:45, to say we were going downtown to go shopping in the morning and lay by the pool in the afternoon. WELL what he really meant was we’re going to be walking around all day till 4:00.

I made out with a few goodies, but way too much. We came home, I relaxed and watched Doctor Who, Cindy napped, people went to the pool, everyone was happy.

8:00pm rolls around and my dad once again says lets go! There’s a square downtown that supposedly has all of this nice music and they shut the streets down and lots of people go, blah blah blah, it’ll be so much fun.

Cindy, Timaree and I agree to go. We go down, hop on a bus and as we’re riding there’s only one other white couple on the bus, and this old Mexican man and maybe (I hope) his young daughter sitting right behind Cindy and I. Cindy turns to the only other white couple on the bus:

Cindy: Where are you guys going!?
Couple: *does not respond to Cindy*
Cindy: *looks at me* Are they American?

I start busting up laughing, how the hell would I know if they were American. (Turns out they were) BUT as I am cracking up all of the sudden on the back of my shoulder I feel *poke* *poke* *poke* I turn around and look:

Old Mexican Man: Can I touch your hair?

I didn’t even know what to say to that. The rest of this bus is empty this old guy and young girl choose to sit directly behind Cindy and I and now he’s asking if he can touch my hair. So, being the smart, clever, witty person I am, I had the best response to his request:

Old Mexican Man: Can I touch your hair?
Me: what.

That’s all I could say. Mind you, you have to read how the man is asking me with a thick accent. Don’t forget that part. I could understand him but I couldn’t comprehend if the question was really what I thought it was.

Homeboy proceeds to touch my hair and all I can do is look at Cindy like “what do I do right now?” And we start chalking it up to a moment and laugh.

He then asks, “how do you get your hair so soft?” Alright, so at this point I’m thoroughly creeped out. Him and Cindy begin to talk because she answered him in Spanish and then he proceeded to keep talking to her. Asking her where we are from, where are we going, being super creepy! He then got off the bus with miss young thang and we were in the clear.

So the bus driver says he will drop us as close to this square as possible. He turns down this road, no cars, barely any lights, no humans, and he pulls over, opens the doors, points in a direction and says “that way”

We all step off the bus, it drives away, we are all looking around, no one is speaking or moving, and all I say is “Cause this isn’t shady or anything.”

So we pick a deserted ally and walk over two blocks in the direction the bus driver pointed. As we get closer we hear music slightly and people. We get there..

AMAZING. This place was beautiful!! It
Had live bands, street performers, vendors, people! It was sooooooooo much fun. I loved it. This little piece of culture, sitting right in the heart of the city.

I bought a journal that’s handmade and completely recycled.

One group of street performers we watched had African drums and maracas, dancing very tribal, using fire on rope. It was absolutely fantastic to watch.

There were families, dogs, children, couples, anyone and everyone you could think of was at this square. After walking around to each vendor we decided to get some drinks. We sit at this table near another band and begin watching. I couldn’t understand the words, but the music was beautiful. It was perfect for the evening. Jazzy maybe? But Rock? I can’t even explain what my ears heard. Just beautiful noise.

We look one direction, couples start dancing. First this white couple gets up and we are all cracking up. I mean props to them, they clearly looked drunk, but they have no rhythm at all and t was hilarious to watch. But you could tell they were having the time of their lives out there. Next comes other Mexican couples and before you know it everyone is having fun, dancing their hearts out beautifully on this street/dance floor.

Also, keep in mind, that women here wear heels like they are tennishoes. It’s amazing. They make it look so easy!! I don’t know how they do it on the daily.

As we’re sitting there watching, everyone is on this dance floor, young to old. People just cutting through stop to dance for a minute or two. It’s as though they just hear the music and all of the sudden the notes are pumping through their veins.
Every chord has a perfect movement attached to it, everyone swaying and dancing like they were walking to the park. It looks like an art. The music just takes over all of their bodies and dances for them. It was beautiful watching everyone have such amazing rhythm and so much fun while dancing. I don’t know how they do it.

We look another direction and we watch two little girls playing on steps and a ramp. They are dressed exactly the same (beautiful light pink dresses, pink tights and head bands with bows) only one is clearly older. Sisters. The older sister was teaching her younger sister how to be a princess. How to walk down stairs, how to walk up the ramp with their hand on the rail, how to wave and how to blow kisses. It was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. We watched them for a bit, admiring the carefree life they were living.

Overall, I’m so glad we went. It was a great last night here in Mazatlan. We finished our drinks (and fried mozzarella) and jumped in Pulmania to head home.

As we’re driving back to our part of town, you can see that it is indeed Friday night and the city was coming alive. People all dressed up and walking to the clubs. We stop at a red light and there is music and people. Cindy looks out and then looks back:

Cindy: Where’s the party at, HOLLAAAAAAAAAA!
Timaree: Paula? Who’s Paula? Mike do you know who Paula is?

Cindy and I died laughing and that’s how we ended our night. Great last day here in Mazatlan, Sinaloa, Mexico.