4. Presa Pedro J. Mendez, page 2
The huge parking lot at El Chorrito wasn't very level, and after a
few hours there, we felt we had seen enough. So we came back to the
lake, late in the afternoon on a Sunday in February.
"You'll probably have the place to yourself during the week," John
had told us. "Mexicans from the city go to the country on the weekends,
and for Semana Santa (Holy Week), and that's about it. Camping in Mexico
is much less common."
When we arrived, the campground was practically full, radios were playing,
the smell of roasting meat filled the air, and Kelly was offered a guzzle
of tequila from a nearly-empty bottle.
We went off for a walk and by the time we got back, most of the people
there were in the packing-up process. We took a site with a lovely view
of the water and settled in. Even if the rowdy group of young men had
stayed, they were really quite jolly.
By late Sunday evening we had the
campground to ourselves.
They were also quite messy, like other campers before them, partly
because there was no place to put trash. So it just gets left on the
ground. The local dogs like this arrangement, and they were soon scrounging
leftovers. Mexico is full of thin dogs who may be strays or may have
owners. Judging from how much the dogs cringe around people, it's not
easy to be a dog in rural Mexico. But then, Mexicans generally treat
their children more lovingly than we do in the U.S. As a lifelong dog-lover,
I had an impulse to carry a huge bag of dog food with me in the motor
home! I didn't do that, but did buy a small box, which came in handy
later. I knew that if you want to adopt a homeless dog in Mexico, all
it needs to come back to the U.S. is a rabies shot, which may have to
have been given with enough time to take effect. I've read comments
of other Americans who did adopt dogs and found their dog was deeply
grateful for its new life. However, we had two dogs at home, and that
was plenty.
As night settled over the campground, one by one the other vehicles
left. It was our first night alone in rural Mexico, and I felt a little
uneasy. Maybe all those RVers who told us horror stories did know something...
I slept lightly that night, hearing thunder and lightning, a nearby
dogfight, and several pickups that passed in the dark. In the early
morning, we went out for a walk. As I waited for Kelly to join me, a
fisherman from the town walked by on his way to work. As if he had read
my mind, he told me that the people here were good and we were secure.
Fisherman walking to work before sunrise.
What a commute!
I remembered that on our last trip around Mexico in a van, many years
earlier, we had often asked the local people if it was good to camp
in a particular spot. Usually they said yes, but once in a while there
would be a diplomatic comment that perhaps it would be better down the
road by that house you see there, or something like that. We always
took their advice. So this fellow's comment reassured me, and I slept
much better the next night, only waking when some people drove up and
put a boat in the water at 1:30 AM.
Life in Mexico does go on at all hours, and that takes some getting
used to. That second evening, a couple drove up to the campground, and
sat talking with each other for hours, the soft murmur of their voices
making a peaceful background sound. Also, by then, probably half the
town knew we were at the campground, another factor making for safety.
I am not saying that it is safe to camp everywhere in Mexico, but rather
that it's a matter of using your intuition and of asking if you have
any doubts. Even if you speak minimal Spanish, you can pantomime sleeping
and ask "Si?"
Along the shoreline
The view of the water was so beguiling that we ended up staying as long
as our water tanks held out. Amazingly, there was electricity at this
free campground, so we plugged in and spent a couple of days writing
and relaxing. We held the annual meetings of our business there, gloating
over the warm weather as we talked shop.
On our last night there, we woke around 2 AM to some lovely singing.
It seemed another all-male party had started, and the talking, drinking,
and campfire went on for the rest of the night quite close to us. We
didn't sleep much, and when we got up in the morning, we saw that the
revelers had a powerboat and a tent. We later found out that that day
was a national holiday, Constitution Day, so they must have just been
getting an early start on a day off and a taste of camping in Mexico.
At first we thought the floating things were traps,
but they seem to be fish farming equipment.
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