It’s Saturday, the band is playing, honey could we ask for more?

When you comission work without an architect or drawing, even if it is a tiny little thing you’re doing, some parts can get lost.

Yesterday, I meandered over to the palapa and all seemed under control; Don Manuel was directing people here and there and positioning supports for the roof. I tried not to get in the way. I showed him the window we’d purchased for the bathroom and I hope it passed muster; I keep finding under the kitchen counters. Later in the day, after he’d left, I happened by again and asked the head worker when they were planning to roof the rest of the bodgea.

“What rest?” he asked.
“The part next to the wall that goes here”, I answered.
“What wall?”
“You know, the wall that starts here, comes to this corner and continues over to here” “Hmmmm…does Manuel know about this?”
“Why yes, I showed him just the other day the window we’ll put in that wall.”
“Hmmm…do you have a cell phone I can use to call Manuel?”
“No, but the restaurant has a public phone”
I thought a bit and then asked, “Do you know about this wall?” (shakes head no) “How about THIS one? Do you know about the window going here?” (all negative)

I came back later and it was determined that more castillo and more cadena must be had IMMEDIATELY. This rebar product is very long and must be delivered and I just didn’t have the energy to play “Negotiate Me!” with the Cocopesa folk so I tried the guy across the carretera (highway). No dice. Well, more accurately, no Armex. I finally get a full cadena cut in 1/2 (to fit in the van) at the next town and pay after hitting two ATM machines. Of course the ATMs are buried deep in tourist central on one side of the highway and the Cocopesa is buried deep on the other side where the real people live. The nice surprise was that this store had only marginally higher prices and no delivery charge. So I’ll be going back there instead of Playa for more construction materials. After waiting for a giant cement truck blocking the teensy hill-sized pothole laden dirt streets of the non-tourist side of the carretera town I managed to bottom out only twice with 6 bultos of, you guessed it, CEMENT in the van. The “potholes” in this side of town put small hills to shame. Driving down the main street is a certifiable E-ticket ride.

In the meanwhile, my subsidy of the palapa growing next to ours is halting. The palaperos have used 1/2 my polvo and I paid for 1/2 their guano as Dino is still dealing with a sick FIL. They’ve done an AMAZING amount of work; just not on OUR palapa! Some days I feel like I’m just bleeding money, but I suspect that goes with the territory. Meanwhile, the guys who are actually working on our palapa have been paid little, if any, but honestly, I’m feeling like the Bank of The Gullible Gringa will be closing for a nice break.

Now, if you didn’t get the title, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to stop reading. You’re just not worthy.

Ok, a hint. A tiny one. Today is Saturday, right? What does the world do on Saturday nights? Minnesota?