122: A

We walked out of the parque and along the river... there really was a small river flowing naturally nearby, and here was where the ducks were. Ahead of us, an outdoor Mercado was easily visible with people already getting things ready, and the heavenly scent of more pastries drifted toward us on a slight warm breeze. Rafe unerringly led us there, and bought himself another empanada, as I truly didn't want one. The heat--- a kind of wet heat, with hot dry gusts in it, really didn't set well with me.

As we walked, we viewed vendors setting up their wares. It reminded me very much of that scene in Indiana Jones, the first one, in the market area, right before he's in that sword fight and he gets out his gun instead. I told Rafe this, and he elaborated, glad I had seen Indiana Jones. We talked about movies then as we walked. It turned out we had similar tastes, and had funny strong feelings about stories, stories we wanted told to our kids.

We came to a pottery booth, and Rafe eyed me, knowing I had collected some little pieces earlier on the trip. He checked some newer stuff out, and held it up for me. I shook my head, not wanting to collect so much that it became a nuisance on my little junk bunk. There wasn't much room. But what there was that he really liked was a small carved jewelry box with pottery inlaid, in mosaic form, and very lovely. He bought it unhesitatingly, without dickering at all.

"Why didn't you bargain with him? He was waiting for you to." I said as the vendor wrapped it up and we walked away, our purchase securely under Rafe's arm. My arm tucked carefully under his other arm.

We made it to a colorful stall loaded top to bottom with t-shirts, capes, masks, dresses and other premade stuff. I fingered the closest dress absently, and realized that the local women all wore these comfortable clothes, while the men wore largely light colored loose fitting pants and embroidered blouses, sometimes with many chains around their necks. Rafe saw me fingering the material and pulled me across the way to another vendor, with homemade blouses and dresses.

He instantly started leafing through floor length and tea length loose fitting dresses, and finally pulled a sky blue one with wavelets delicately flowing through that reminded him of our sea adventures thus far, promising there would be more.

He held it up to me, assessed its color against my eyes and bought it. I laughed and tucked it into my arm, while he fingered shirts, embroidered beautifully around the neck and hem, I got out my wallet, filled now with Mexican money, and started talking earnestly with the vendor, an older gentleman with a long mustache and heavy dark hair. His eyes were keen on us. Our clothes did not necessarily brand us wealthy... but we were definitely tourists and definitely American. He stated a price, and I fingered two of the lavishly embroidered men's shirts. Rafe watched in interest as I showed interest, but not too much interest, looking around as if for another vendor. This didn't fool my gentleman, who stated another, lower price, but one I knew was high for what I was looking at. I counter offered and he shook his head, indicating a different shirt, not quite so nicely embroidered. I let go of the shirts I was looking at and started to move away. Now I had him, and he grinned, accepting my lowest offer. I grinned back, got out the required dinero, and he put the two shirts in a bag.

"I've never seen anyone do that."

"I thought you were from So Cal. How could you not know they like to bargain? You live right by the border. Silly, boy. It's tradition." I swung my hand, feeling lighter than I had a few minutes ago, and hoping that the dull head ache I'd been sporting would now ease up and go away.

Rafe saw a place that was squeezing oranges fresh, and also adding milk for a Julius, or a smoothie with other juices. I opted for naranja only, and he got a little crazier with his. We sipped companionably as we walked in the shade of the stalls, coming up to a very nice leather craft place where Rafe instantly decided we need new sandals. We dickered and bargained to our heart's content, and settled on identical ones, we would have to mark with sharpies when we got back to the bus.

It was a wonderful market, and a very relaxing morning. But I felt guilty after awhile ditching Ben who liked to come with us more often than not. He would have had something planned he wanted to go see for sure, so we decided to head back. That was when Rafe saw the chocolate, and began telling me all the benefits of Mexican dark chocolate for PMS, and so we had to get some. He got enough to share.

As we were getting back to the van through the park, and both feeling the heat, and resisting the urge to go find that silly armadillo, I saw on a hill not far away, several Hot air balloons.

No kidding. I pulled Rafe to the van and we followed where we thought we saw them rising, only to find that there was a festival. Rafe called Ben and told him, and we parked and took the local shuttle up to the air field nearby. It was free, and Tim joined us closer now.

The shuttle bus was newer, not the rickety kind you saw in movies. It was full of Mexican people, women and children especially, but lots of grandma's and grandpa's. All were very, very friendly, especially when they realized we could speak to them. Our Spanish was less dialect, and had to be discerned, but it was serviceable.

Rafe had been to many hot air balloon festivals, and I had been to a few. So when we got off, we hiked the little hill and joined a gazillion other people watching the spectacular balloons air up. We walked and watched, wishing we had sun glasses, until Rafe saw a vendor... and got us some. And hats too. I got a large straw hat, with a blue ribbon embroidered with flowers and colorful birds, and Rafe got a baseball cap that had the name of the place and the image of a hot air balloon. We were enjoying being tourists.

We held hands, we strolled leisurely, we felt alone and anonymous, in our own little unrecognizable bubble. We leaned into each other, evaluated our tastes in color and design of balloons, and ditched our cheap flip flops to try out our new sandals. Very comfy.

Rafe is taller than many of the locals, and the tourists. He stands out, because he's tall, and obviously he is so good looking. I caught women, and men staring at us quite a bit.

Rafe's phone kept ringing as Ben and the others were making their way to us. Rafe told them to look for the steamy couple in pajamas... meaning our shorts and casual shirts. Rafe had traded his hoodie, which was too hot, for one of the new embroidered blouses I'd chosen for him, which--- frankly made him look devastatingly handsome, dang it. Of course he looked amazing--- even with the shorts so totally out of place. There were more vendors all along the perimeter, and we found some suitable white shorts with cargo type pockets, and a tie waist. Rafe stepped behind the vendor's booth to change, which was where Ben, Jeff, Mutt, Jeremy, Levi and half the rest of the security found us. And for once, we got some of the crew out, so there were other women, slowly making their way in our direction.

I was glad to see them all getting out a little, but also disappointed that our intimate morning was ending, in favor of a large group of American travelers.

Rafe and Ben walked almost as close as Rafe and I.

They've been friends for most of their lives. Jeff walked on the other side of me, unperturbed by the closeness the other two exhibited. Jeff had bought me the earrings recently, and now he leaned familiarly into my side, like he would have a sister, telling me things, other times they'd been to see hot air balloon festivals, and what they'd eaten. He was hungry, and also leery of the water--- so carried his own bottled water brought along from an established vendor in Durango that he trusted. I wasn't as worried. Mexico definitely had water problems, but were working hard to rectify. Local water vendors were everywhere, with names of bottling companies I recognized like Dasani, and Evian. I didn't worry about not staying hydrated. Rafe bought us water almost everywhere we went. He was always carrying.

Rafe wouldn't eat here, and we weren't hungry, but others were, and so we gravitated toward booths where many locals were lined up to eat. Jeff finally found a taco vendor he trusted, and ordered about ten tacos, enough for all of us to try his mutton, potato, cilantro type taco. I leaned in to Rafe and reminded him to ask about the use of brains, tongue and beef eyes as fillers, or even delicacies. If you didn't ask, they could fool you, and if you did ask, you might be able to tell if they were being honest. Most were.

Jeff scarfed down his tacos, and gave some to Mutt and Dylan. Jeremy and Levi got their own and shared. Rafe and I wandered along, noting that the other two bands were now hanging out with us too. Rafe knew all the guys, but I did not. He didn't bother to introduce them either, as most all were already drinking.

As noon approached, Rafe and I exited the scene, it was hot, and we were both feeling like a siesta.

The buses were cooler. The guys all wanted to jam, but we were noticeably lacking any energy. I fell asleep almost instantly when we hit the bunks, and Rafe followed. Nothing had ever felt better.

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