By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher
Mr. Kaminski’s idea of a siesta – in the water under the blazing sun – and he emerges like a golden god. Not fair!
On a recent jaunt south of the border, I was reminded of a cultural phenomenon – and I’ve got to say, I’m all in.
First rattle out of the box, the temperatures in Cozumel in July and August are beyond oppressive. And no, I did not select the dates for our Land of the Sun excursion. I received an invitation and gleefully accepted it without thorough research – so unlike me.
The hype? Coastal, island breezes make the heat less stifling, the afternoon showers cool things down, it’s only steamy for a little while, tequila makes everything better . . . blah, blah, blah. Don’t buy into the ballyhoo; it’s fiction. Well, except for the tequila claim. That’s a fact. The weather – and blazing sun – will take you down. Ice melts in your glass before it even makes it the ten feet to your table, seriously.
That’s exactly why for two hours during the middle of the day, the entire country shuts down. Now I’ve been to Mexico many times before, but it’s been a minute, and my memory isn’t what it used to be. Initially, I was vexed by this inconvenience. After all, I’m only two, maybe three hours into my day by the time noonish arrives. Don’t judge me – it was vacay. I’m locked and loaded, ready to take on the day. I’m just getting going and everything is closing? I quickly got over my irritation after only one day out in the midday sun, even with two layers of 50 UV sunscreen slathered everywhere – and I mean everywhere.
“I’m not blooming where I’m planted,” I informed Mr. Kaminski, who takes the sun much better than I do. I boil and blister like a lobster. He gets so tan folks begin speaking to him in Spanish.
“I’m a delicate flower. This is not okay,” I imparted on day one during the murderous midday.
We took to the pool to alleviate the scorching sun – Mr. Kaminski’s idea. That was okay, until it wasn’t. Apparently, I’m not a good sunscreen sprayer with my left hand – not an ambidextrous girl. The parts I missed on my right hand and arm cooked on day one, and I was done.
I wondered why the pool and poolside was so empty during the horrendous heat, that is until I took notice. My thoughts were how nice – exclusive, private, not crowded. It was more like everyone else in the country was smarter than I was. Turns out the Mexican siesta is a thing – a super smart thing – and has been for centuries. This practical cultural response to the intense heat of the midday was lost on this gringa but only for a day. It is now scorched in my being – literally.
I don’t know about y’all, but I think it’s pretty hot in Texas this time of year as well. So why aren’t we smart enough to adopt a Texas siesta during the hours of unholy heat every day? I think it’s a movement, one worth exploring. Who’s in? See y’all next week – on the porch!
Patti Parish-Kaminski
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