Enchantment in the making
One of the great joys of this week's visit by my grandchildren has been seeing many of the things we've come to love about this place through their eyes. People have not only been kind, helpful and patient with them, but have shown real affection, bending down to pinch their cheeks, picking them up, talking to them.
Last night we're down at la cancha with a smattering of other families, just hangin' out. My son-in-law's carrying my not-quite two-year-old grandson past a row of uncharacteristically grim-faced locals. Dad asks the baby softly, "Can you say adios?" Without the slightest hesitation, the little boy smiles, turns to the crowd and blurts out in his strong baby voice "Adios!" All those faces cracked into the broadest smiles.
Then I look up and see my five-yr.-old granddaughter playing with a couple of Zihuatanejense girls about her age, joyously running up the tiered seats and sliding down the broad painted-concrete balustrade. Play, it seems, was their common language.
These are the kind of experiences you can't make happen for kids. But bring them to Zihuatanejo (not a simple task when one of them has jumped the gun on his terrible twos) and if you're open to those experiences, they just seem to happen all by themselves.
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