Super Bowl Sunday in La Cruz

I chose to explore the streets of La Cruz on Super Bowl Sunday rather than watch the game. I was a guest of Roger and Di Frizelle on Di's Dream. They had decided to watch the Super Bowl at the yacht club of the new marina in La Cruz. They were joined by other US and Canadian cruisers intent on seeing the game in English rather than the more readily available Spanish coverage offered by local television outlets. Having no interest in the game and having a desire to see more of the Mexican village I set out on a little walk about.

First I walked through the town square and past a number of international themed restaurants before stopping in front of a Mexican home. The attraction was a family party being entertained by a Mariachi band. Mind you, my only previous experience with Mariachi bands was on "Gringo Gulch" in Ensenada where the buskers were more nuisance than entertainment. On this occasion I was free to wander and the band was busy performing their gig. I relaxed against the wall of a house across the street from the festivities enjoying the warm afternoon sun. It crossed my mind that such a lingerer in most neighborhoods of the United States might trigger a call to 911. I put on my best "I'm just a harmless curiosity seeker passing through." look.

To my surprise, the fiddler of the band beckoned me to join the group. My mind oscillated between "don't be intrusive" and "don't be rude". Curiosity got the better of me and I crossed the street and took a seat in the proffered plastic chair. Given my preconceived notions of Mariachi bands as tourist entrappers, it surprised me that the family members actually knew the words to the loud blaring music. Maybe these tunes are the golden oldies of Mexico. I did notice that one teenage boy was bored and showed signs of trying to appear invisible lest any of his peers mistake his presence as being voluntary. The fiddler offered me a drink that turned out to be a simple margarita of Squirt and Tequila.

At this point the man of the house approached me and I had a brief twinge of embarrassment at my intrusion in his family's celebration. In fact, he came to offer me the hospitality of the house and asked if I wanted to share dinner. The usual Mexican fare of fajita, tortias, salad, and guacamole seemed all the better for being in its native environment: a family.


Some family members had begun to dance to the Mariachi music. I was touched to see the fiddler crouch to play more intimately for a little girl moving to the music. I was reminded of a concert when my own daughter was about this little girl's age. We had attended a concert by the great Shetland Islands fiddler Ali Bain. My daughter got restless and began to cry leading her mother to carry her to the lobby of the concert hall. When Ali Bain finished his set he stopped on his way through the lobby and played a tune just for my unhappy child. Needless to say I have always cherished the memory of such a gracious gesture.


Soon the band had fulfilled its contract and left to catch the bus, the man of the house had paid his bill and continued his family festivity, and I returned to my tour La Cruz. This little view of the "real" Mexico helped me to decide that La Cruz was just the spot to be Virago's home base for next winter .