I spent Bloom Day in Mexico, staying with some friends who bought a house there. (Note to self: must cultivate more friends who own homes in exotic locations.) We were in La Penita de Jaltemba, a little town on the Pacific coast about an hour north of Puerto Vallarta, in the state of Nayarit.
It's a funny town–as far as we can tell, it hardly existed in 1960, and since then the Mexican government has invested in roads, electricity, water, and hospitals so that the entire stretch of coastline can be developed as a tourist destination. And in fact, many Americans and Canadians have bought homes there. Back in the day–five or ten years ago, or longer–you could get a lot for a few thousand bucks and build a house for not much more than the price of a fancy car. Now the situation is more like this–lovely Spanish-style homes that might cost in the low millions in southern California, but still seem pricey for Mexico in the low six figures. It's almost as if this community is becoming the new southern California.
So I spent some time pondering the socio-politico-economic-cultural implications of this infusion of Americans and Canadians into an area that was, after all, developed with the specific intent of encouraging us to move here–but it was hard to hold those thoughts in my head for long. Mostly I floated in the blissfully warm ocean and wondered when my next fruity rum drink might arrive.
And I imagined the garden I would plant if I lived there.
Bougainvillea is big, of course. This double variety blew me away:
And you're probably going to have some red ginger.
And a banana tree, from which will eventually sprout actual bananas.
Weirdly, what you see for sale in the market includes roses and geraniums, both of which are pretty tough in this climate. Go back to el norte if you want a rose garden!
And I suppose a garden is not a garden without a gardener, at least in these parts.