Mazatlan, Part 1

People are not thrilled by our cruise getting rerouted. Since it did, I have heard things like, I quote, “I’m so focking* angry” shouted on a cellphone in a hallway, or when we asked the audience for a suggestion of “something you’ve heard today,” we heard “REFUND!!” The first port was Manzanillo, which featured a very large parking lot of identical white cars, clearly a shipping point or something for Nissan/Toyota/Kia/functional hatchbacks. It was very industrial, which was kind of interesting to see, but apparently not if you are expecting Acapulco. The first shuttle bus took 40 people out, then ½ an hour later, took 20 people back. This is for a port that people had like 10 hours to enjoy. My favorite part was the cruise director and all the cruise staff was functioning on CRISIS HIGH ALERT CRISIS mode, so to manage the passengers into shuttle buses into the city (because the port was pretty far away), they had little boarding passes to hand out to the passengers. The cruise director made a lot of announcements like “great ladies and gentlemen. So you have a red pass that says ‘tender boat’ and has a number, but we will use it for the shuttle bus. Everyone with a red pass numbered 1 to 400 can leave on the first trip into the city. Please hang tight, wait for us to call your number. Hahahaa Great Great.” Clearly someone got annoyed, because he said, “great ladies and gentlemen. It has been brought to my attention that the red pass is more of a hot pink. So please take your HOT PINK pass numbered 1 to 400 and proceed to the gangway.” Elderly tyranny! You know someone freaked out about red vs. hot pink. People love freaking out. This is the lesson of cruising.

We skipped Manzanillo because it was crap apparently. We did get off at Mazatlan, which was handy because we were relieved of many many pesos. Here is the new negotiating technique learned in Mazatlan. Take a while, arrive at a price, then when it comes time to pay and the gringos give you a $20, say as pathetically as possible, “sorry, I have no change” then carefully open up your wallet to prove it to them that you have no change, because it is a wallet with just one lonely $20 bill. Then you get whatever price you agreed on rounded up to an increment of $10 or something. I would say this was a unique incident, but it happened 4 times. With 4 different guys. One of whom sold me something on the beach.

We went to the central market which was very cool and colorful and more whitie friendly, in that there weren’t heavily armed policemen everywhere, so my life felt kind of secure. There were also pig heads for sale, not under a glass case or anything, and also a bunch of pig feet, just kinda cut off, not really pretending it is something else or even skinned. The unfortunate thing about the pig heads is that they would keep showing up. There wasn’t like “go to Jose’s for a pig head” so you could know to avoid Jose’s if seeing them makes you want to barf. Everybody sold one, which made me want to say BARF BARF BARF BARF BARF because I am an American and I pretend I don’t eat heads, and if I do I do not want to know.

When you get off of a cruise ship, you usually go through a very passenger friendly market where people try to sell you things via “lady!” etc. Then you get into the open and people have a good time saying “taxi!” or “taxi amiga” or “taxi lady” or “taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi taxi.” In Mazatlan, for some reason, you have the option of an Ecotaxi, which looks just like a 90’s Nissan sedan, but says “Ecotaxi,” or an open air taxi, which is a gas powered golf cart that crazy people drive like it is a Jeep roller coaster. We got a deal into the center city (or everybody pretended it was a deal, but the driver pretended “I HAVE NO CHANGE” and things worked out his way) in a car and the driver very proudly said “this car much better! Those open air ones, they flip!” which was nice, except for the fact that 3 of our buddies were in the open air version. Also, we took an open air version for about 15 minutes and experienced the driver cutting in and around traffic and happily using his horn, which sounded like a car alarm, and was a little metal button to the right of the steering wheel. Also, in our open air version, the radio speakers were a giant subwoofer you’d have in your house that were on the floor of the front seat. The glove compartment was ripped out and a car stereo was just resting on some random crap in a place that was way too big for it. We went to an all gringo area with reggaeton, “Gangsta’s Paradise,” and “Red, Red Wine” on crazy full blast. I should note that I guess I will die violently and my lungs will shrivel up and leap out of my face if I don’t hear Red Red Wine at least 56,998 times a day, since that’s what happens. Same with YMCA. The open air cab ride was very fun, even though he too had no change, which he proved with his Mazatlan-issued fake wallet.

We then went to an oyster bar and experienced the beach in Mazatlan, which was like the beach in Puerto Vallarta, insofar as every 12 seconds you are reminded of the eternal life questions: “do I want a sarong?” “do I want a henna tattoo?” “do I want a plate?” “what about a bracelet” “how about a hat” “maybe a mobile?” “do I need a Mexican blanket?” “what about a hilarious t-shirt?” “maybe a towel that says CORONA?” “or one that says PACIFICO?” “a cover up?” “what about a black cover up?” “what if the black coverup had mirrors on it?” “do I want to parasail?” So that you become what you think you will never be, which is someone who just goes “no” or frowns and shakes your head and looks away. This is because in 12 seconds, THEY COME BACK! With the SAME CRAP! I broke down and bought a mobile. This is persistence. I should note that the guy said he didn’t have any change after semi-extensive haggling. Mazatlan! The school for acting!

We went in the ocean which was very fun and something about getting beaned by waves makes you laugh, even if your suit falls off. I highly recommend the ocean if the beach is decent.

Unfortunately, I know what puta means in Spanish, which is a very unkind way to describe a female and what they said when I walked down the stairs and they missed a small opportunity to make cash via a tip by helping me down stairs. No one way paying attention except for a guy who was too far away, who said “la puta! La puta!” then they said “awww” and all walked away when they realized they were too late.

*not the actual cussword. Edited for persons who read this at work (serpe)