I exit the Sayulita airport. “Taxi? Muy barato!” I speedwalk past the taxi drivers excitedly touting their cheap taxi services. I have one mission in mind: to walk across the pedestrian overland bridge to catch the local bus.

It is already dark out. The air is warm and heavy with humidity. My hair instantly doubles in volume. The palm trees are more lush than ever. It is rush hour, it’s Friday, and Feliz Navidad is only a few days away. There is no specific bus schedule. The bus will arrive when it arrives. I need agua so I find a roadside shop selling bottled water. Outside the shop I see a handwritten sign that says, “Relax! You are now on the other side of Trump’s Wall.” My tense muscles relax and go into vacation mode.

Manana-land, here I am.

And the bus, a worn-but-clean Mercedes bus, arrives. It is overflowing with humanity. I squeeze in with my luggage. There is a festive atmosphere on the bus. Everyone is either wrapping up a long workweek, a long work day, or done with their Christmas shopping.

A kind elderly man taps my arm and offers me his seat. I decline his generosity. After all, he may have worked all day while I sat in flight. He seems embarrassed because I don’t accept his kindness.

The driver is loudly jamming some American tunes, mostly rock. I hang tight as Santana, Rolling Stones, R.E.M., Bowie, Credence Clearwater, and Pink Floyd help me ease on to the other side of the wall. My confused body slowly adjusts from Seattle’s 34 F degrees this morning to Sayulita’s 80F temperature this evening.

The seats are filled with workers, families and people trying to get home or going out for the evening. A pregnant woman, who looks as if she just might have her baby now, rubs her belly and closes her eyes, the bus her lullaby. Three young beautiful women sport dazzling tight dresses, one in pink, the other in red, and the last of the trio in teal. Another young woman wears a t-shirt that says in English, “One world, my world, your world, our world.”

Some faces on the bus are illuminated by the odd glow of the ubiquitous iPhones.

As we leave the madness of the city and continue North to Sayulita, a seat opens up for me. I sit, cramming my luggage between my knees. A fan cools my face. People continue to squeeze into the bus. Grocery bags filled with food, Christmas gifts, boxes, and enormous plastic bags filled with who-knows-what accompany them.

Eventually the bus arrives in Sayulita.

Here I am

without my lap top!

Yes, somehow I forgot to pack it!

Blogging for the first time on my iPhone,

no quick tap tap tap of the fingers.

Time to relax.

Feliz Navidad from Sayulita!