Thursday, December 1, 2016

Her Name is Barra

Cristo del ciclone watches over the faithful in Barra de Navidad.

Predawn bottle rockets calling the faithful to prayer.
The thunderclap of surf meeting sand.
The first glare of sun offering promise of warmth
A choir of magpies singing in a papaya tree

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

Breakfast tacos served on wax paper
The clink and clatter of the naranja bus rolling over a tope.
The intoxicating fragrance of hibiscus
The crow of rooster and the cluck of hens.

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

The squeak of a rusty bike pedaled over cobblestone
Children laughing on their way to school
Bolero tearing up the silence Mexican style.
The French Baker's on the middle canal.

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

Outboard motors chopping water.
Agua de coco and piña riding on a three wheeled cart.
The staccato of unmuffled exhaust
Cytsa Cytsa Cytsa Gas... Cytsa Cytsa Cytsa Gas

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

The dance of a million diamonds as sun meets sea surge.
The pop of a bottle cap as cold beer is poured at Froy's
Black frigates gliding effortlessly riding warm air.
Bolillo, bolillo... dangerously delicious fresh and warm.

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

A green flash marked by a mariachi trumpet.
Sunset at The Sunset
Grand Bay illuminating the lagoon.
The aging dowager looking prettier at night.

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

The smell of carne asada and onions.
Eladio performing his magic on a hot grill.
Pedro's sopa famosa, Hugo's smiling invite
Lalo's grin, Robert and Rosy's camp fire.

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

Cueros browning in boiling lard.
Music and laughter embrace all.
Backstage, Coco's, Lucy's and Time Out.
Chynna dancing. Borrachos singing in the night

The warm ocean breeze runs her fingers though my hair.
She whispers in my ear and her name is Barra.

The name I hear is Barra


— Michael Linklater


Michael Linklater's paean to his home away from home in Barra de Navidad is sure to strike a chord with snowbirds planning their winter getaway to Mexico or who have already arrived to this seaside village along the coast of the Pacific Ocean swelling its population.

He divides his time between Nanaimo B.C. and Barra de Navidad and is the administrator of the Melaque/Barra de Navidad Gringos Facebook Group. Michael believes that we get some of our greatest rewards through supporting our communities.

Another paean by Michael about Barra de Navidad — Her Charm — appears in Last Call: Poems, Stories and Art from the Costalegre. We thank Michael for his continuing support of the Bar None Group.