Eyewitness Account: Yelapa

JoAnn and I just finished a 7-day cruise vacation along the “Mexican Riviera” and we got a surprise bonus:  an opportunity to visit Yelapa, one of the places she mentions in her testimony.

A few weeks ago I finished the rough draft of the book-length version of her testimony, but now it’s time to go back through it and make the characters and settings come alive.  So I was excited to have the chance to visit Yelapa – she spells it “Yalappa” in her journal – and to see it for myself.

We took a sailing excursion from Puerto Vallarta.  The boat had a crew of five and 12 guests, and there was too little wind to sail; we had to use the diesel engine.  Four of us managed to get seasick, myself included.  “This is much gentler than the water taxis we had to use,” said JoAnn.  “They were just motorboats, and we felt every wave and always arrived wet.”

Word soon got out that JoAnn had lived in Yelapa thirty years ago, and every time we got a new view the tour guide asked if it looked like it did thirty years ago.  Inevitably JoAnn had to answer, “Not at all; it’s really built up.”

We learned that electricity had come to Yelapa three years ago.  “They really needed it for the schools.  The kids were falling behind without it.”  And though boats are still the best way to get to town, they now have a road that comes within a mile of Yelapa for those who want to walk the rest of the way.  Modernity is closing in.

Eventually we arrived.  “It’s unbelievable,” said JoAnn.  “It’s so built up!  None of this was here.”  We anchored about fifty feet from shore and water taxis delivered us to the restaurant.  It was rustic – a large blue Pepsi awning stretched over poles so we could sit at plastic tables in the shade, our bare feet on the sand.  Vendors came to our tables as we ate, bringing scarves, shawls, jewelry, trinkets, and even a chance to be photographed with an iguana.  “It’s unbelievably commercialized,” said JoAnn.  “None of these restaurants were here.”

We finished lunch and had time for a short walk before our excursion would leave again.  “There’s a path that will take us to where I used to live,” said JoAnn, and we took off walking.  But I was the first to see the obstacle.

“Is there a way across the river?” I asked.  It didn’t look deep, but there was quite a current.

“This must be new!” JoAnn exclaimed.  “I don’t remember a river here.”  We watched a man in his bathing suit ford the river; it was thigh deep and his dogs struggled to swim across.  “Of course, it wouldn’t be a problem for someone in a bathing suit.”

We were in jeans and the clock was ticking.  We decided to turn back.  “Still, I don’t remember a river,” said JoAnn.  “Who knows?  Anything could have happened to make a river in thirty years.”

I was disappointed.  I’d hoped for something that would help me bring a few scenes in JoAnn’s story to life but the river was blocking our way.

Back at the restaurant, JoAnn asked the manager if the river was new.  “It’s always been there,” she said.  “As long as anyone can remember.”

JoAnn came back to my table and reported,” I don’t know how the river got there.  They said it’s always been there.  I guess I wouldn’t have noticed wading through it – I was always in my bathing suit.”

“I think I got what I need,” I replied.  “I knew you were stoned all the time in those days, but now I see how out of it you really were.  Even if I were in a bathing suit, I think I’d remember wading through a river…”

So I’m glad I braved seasickness to go and visit Yelapa.  As I had hoped, JoAnn’s story came to life.  And she got a good picture of me with the iguana…

For the short version of JoAnn’s story, see http://DiaryOfAnExorcism.com.

 

 

Stan Smith  ::  © 2009, GospelSmith  ::  www.GospelSmith.com