The entrance to El Encanto
On October 1st I arrived in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico with my bike in a big box, a condensed set of my belongings, and a pair of gardening gloves. Excited and nervous, I assembled my bike in a breezeway, chatting with curious passersby. Waking up at 3am to catch a flight was catching up to me so I rode to the nearest hotel and took a very long nap. I woke up groggy to the night sky, ate a dinner of yogurt and bananas, and made a plan for the next day. I needed to ride to the bus station and figure out how to get to Santa Cruz de Miramar, the location of my first WWOOF host. (Note: You might be wondering why I brought a bike if the goal is to work on farms. When I am finished “woofing”, the plan is for one or two of my friends to join me on a 6 week bike tour from a location in southern Mexico to San Diego, CA. Stay tuned to hear more about the details of this trip come December.)
The next morning, I pedaled my bike down a derelict cobblestone rode and even forded a stream to get to the Terminal Central de Autobuses. Upon arrival, I appeared to be the only white person, which was a sign to me that not many white tourists are leaving the Puerto Vallarta area. The woman at the counter only spoke Spanish so I fumbled my way through buying a ticket, 263 pesos (14 USD) for a ticket to San Blas, the closest large town on the route. I sat in a lounge for about 20 minutes and I almost missed my bus, in part due to the air conditioning. At noon, the thermometer was already in reading 32 Celsius (90 Fahrenheit) and the humidity was like nothing I have experienced before. The destinations of the buses were not very clear, so I went out to ask for help as my bus was pulling away. Thankfully, the driver stopped to let me board and a man loaded my bike under the bus. In three hours, I would arrive in Miramar and follow the directions given to me by Jim to be let into the hotel property.
Jim is in the US until November so I was to interface with his local helper, Jaro (Ha-ro). My phone has service in Mexico so I turned off airplane mode and messaged Jaro on WhatsApp, it seems like most people here with smartphones use this app for texting and calling. He greeted me from behind a tall purple wrought iron gate with a pack of barking dogs in tow. He led me to my new room up a simple metal staircase slathered in bright blue paint. Inside there is a small kitchen, a bathroom, a big bed, and a 180 degree view of the ocean. It is clear that this room is set up for woofers who come in pairs. After settling in, I went back to the main area to get a tour of the property.
Jaro only speaks Spanish, which is great for me because one of my goals is to increase my fluency. At the start of the tour he plucked a star fruit from a tree for me to try. While enjoying the fruit, he showed me the areas we would be working, where the tools are stored, and he spouted off the names of all six dogs (and cat). I was able to get the gist of how we would be working together and the times and such. The property is a jungle. There are two massive trees at the heart, all sorts of tropical plants, and buildings with various rooms available during the high tourism season (Dec-Feb). Over the last three months, the summer rains and heat allowed plants to overtake once navigable gardens and walkways. Between the two of us, our primary job is to reclaim these spaces and plant the garden. We get to play with the dogs, too.
That afternoon he took me to the tienda (store) called mini super, a common name for small grocery stores around here. I bought some rice and beans and on the way back as a welcome gift he bought me ceviche, a dish with fresh fish, lime, chili peppers, and onions. The main social area of the property is an outdoor kitchen, which is situated around a powdery blue concrete structure that resembles a turret. I quickly made some rice for dinner and then we headed for the beach. First we picked up his surf board at his parent’s house. They live a few blocks off the main paved road. To get to the beach, we walked through a muddy, smelly, and jungle-like cow enclosure with teenage boys herding about 50 cows. These cows provide beef for the small town. Alongside the cows we followed a murky brown creek to the point. Sitting on the beach was a slight reprieve from the hot and humid inland air. Jaro surfed until the sun went down and we headed back to El Encanto. By 7pm I was mentally and physically tired from exhausting much of the Spanish in my repertoire so said good night to Jaro, and I went to my room to drift off to the lull of the ocean below my window.