Spying on Kino

The people on the beach cannot see into this house. They cannot see me watching them. The owners of the house put in mirrored windows - a necessity when you live right on the beach right in town. So I stand at the sliding glass door and watch people on the beach.

I see the old man who collects cans walk by. He always looks at the house in the hopes I'll come out with a bag full.

I watch the man launch fishing boats. His technique is designed for efficiency. He drives onto the beach, makes a huge arc, backs up into the water where he slams on his brakes at the same time the guy in the bow of the panga releases the rope which ties the boat to the trailer. Whoosh! The boat is free, the truck takes off for another.

Couples make love in the water, holding each other close.

Mothers take their naked babies into the sea to wash their butts.

Unhappy dogs are carried into the surf - a flea dip.

Young women in swimsuits pose for photos. Their favorite pose is a leap in the air. Yesterday a middle-aged woman lay on the beach, the waves washing over her, while her husband snapped her picture.

Little boys (and some men) pee against the wall.

Every day the older white-haired lady who is schizophrenic or something, who walks around town barefoot, every day she gets in the water to cool her body down. I've seen her eat food at picnic blankets while the picnickers were in the water.

Yesterday the beach in front of the house was packed with people. There were two families consisting of at least 20 people in each. At the rental house next door a group gathered for a birthday party. They put a trampoline on the beach, strung a pinata in the yard. When I went to bed I turned on all the fans in the bedroom to block the music which was still going strong - and loud - at 4 a.m.

This morning I got out of bed around 5. Even at that hour people were playing in the water. Boys sat on my wall. Older women sat in the sand using the wall as a backrest.

Kino certainly has become a weekend get-away for people in Hermosillo. Yesterday I saw a weather map for Mexico. Hermosillo had the highest temperatures in the whole country, hovering somewhere around 115.

This house is only a block from the trailer park where I live. Although on summer weekends the park is filled with Mexican families who stay in the bungalows or who bring their own trailers (a new phenomenon), it is still a gringo enclave. I never realized how much until I took up residence in this house on the beach with its mirrored windows.