We took our friends to Los Gatos Beach on Saturday. We always sit at the same restaurant where our waiter, Franco, knows Gene. Each year he makes a big deal of greeting us and making us feel like we are his most important customers. We spent a wonderful day there snorkelling, sunbathing and watching the Mexican families at this idyllic seaside oasis on the edge of Zihuatanejo Bay. I was dismayed when I got home to realize I had left my "prescription" sunglasses behind. So the next day, we decided to hike over to Los Gatos, get a little excercise together with our dog and see if the sunglasses were at the restaurant. We arrived by 0900 only to find out that Franco has Sundays off and the other waiters couldn't find them. They promised to call us by 6 p.m when they spoke with Franco to find out where he had put my glasses.
Now many people would not expect that I would ever see them again, as after all, prescription sunglasses are very expensive here and a needy person would simply take them. I can recall our children's sports items that would disappear seconds following being left forgotten on a shelf, or bus seat. But I had faith and sure enough, at a little after 6 we received a call that one of the waiters had them and was driving them to my home. I ran back from Domingos Culturales- the Sunday night festival in the local square, and the waiter who I had spoken to in the morning drove up with his infant son and wife. He was flashing the biggest smile, telling me how happy he was to find them in the laundry scheduled to be picked up to be taken to the commercial laundromat that day. I was indeed lucky, and once again reminded of the fundamental honesty of the locals.
Today, my husband had a different experience. He went to our local police station to make arrangements for a Mexican Driver's License. We had been encouraged to do this by our friend Mike who is much more experienced than us with driving in Mexico. He advised Gene that if he were to be stopped by a transit police officer, producing a local driver's license can make a huge difference to the outcome for a gringo.
Gene has never really learned Spanish and relies heavily on his smile and patient locals who accept his Spanglish attempts. On arrival at the heavily fortified police station he was asked to relinquish his immigration document (FM3) at the gate and then proceeded to a licensing office. The 2 young administrators eventually conveyed to him that he didn't have the correct paperwork, and he was prepared to head home emtpy handed, without the Spanish to get him through the process. However, the transit police supervisor appeared and proceeded to take my husband aside and explained in English that he would need to go the Centro de Salud ( for a bloodtest), bring in his passports, visa, electric bill copies. He then asked Gene to step outside and asked him to wait. After approx. 10 mins. he returned and said that for 450 pesos he could make sure the medical was OK. The administrative assistants promptly prepared a license for Gene with a bloodtype selected by the supervisor and a further 100 pesos was removed from his wallet to "pay the girls" for their trouble. The whole process went quickly and smoothly.... Gene now having spent an extra 550 pesos above the normal cost. On the plus side, Gene now has the name and cell phone no. of the chief of transit police in Zihuatanejo...we hope he never needs it, but you never know!!
On the downside, he may have the wrong bloodtype on his license......
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