If "La Joya," my precious little hidden-gem beach town, seems at first a bit rough around the edges, I guess that's the charm the place is known for. But it's the location, the climate, the ocean view, the flora and fauna—and especially the people—that make this village, indeed, the joya / gem I’d hoped it might be.
With each new day here, I’m coming to appreciate it more and more, this colorful, tactile swath of coast here in…well, I suppose I could divulge the state. But then—as this series’s title suggests—I’d have to…well…you know.
They’re incredibly patient with old
geezers trying to perfect their Spanish.
A SAVORY PAELLA – This pueblo may not fit the homogenous-Mexican image I’d kind of fantasized about. But it’s proving even better—a savory paella of “types:” middle-aged, mild-mannered gringo couples likely here on day trips from a more mainstream destination just an hour’s drive down the coast; muscle-shirted, tat-festooned, pit-bull-armed bruisers; skinny hippy/artist types; surfer dudes; dread-locked Rastas; and some Mexican tourists from other parts of the country.
The native-Mexican locals are exactly what nearly all the Mexicans I’ve ever met are: hard-working, kind and generous, devoted to their families, and deeply proud of their heritage and culture. They’re eager to help, curious about visitors’ homes and families, and incredibly patient with old geezers trying to perfect their Spanish.
While tiny in population and area, La Joya can feel larger for its scent of sophistication. I guess that’s what happens when the undiscovered gets discovered. Most folks with the means to get here are going to want rooms with more than a working toilet and one bare light bulb. Ambitious locals see the promise and build nice lodgings and eateries. Still more higher-end tourists come…and so it goes.
Still, there are no skyscrapers or even big hi-rises here…yet. Historical community standards restrict buildings to a maximum height of three stories plus a top-level palapa. Nearly all existing buildings respect the standard, but a few already built, and several under construction, have already shattered that convention.
You meet someone today, and it’s
quite likely you’ll run into them
tomorrow…and every day.
INTIMATE SCALE – I think I said in my first post in this series that it’s crowded here. I’m rethinking that. It depends on the time of day. Yes, in late afternoon and into the evening certain small pockets along the three or four main streets bustle with activity. Busy sidewalk restaurants, some street entertainers, an occasional cluster of young people drinking and socializing.
But get up and out before 9:00 AM and it’s every bit the sleepy little village I’d imagined. The only folks moving at that hour are a few runners and bikers, municipal workers and delivery guys, and people getting ready to open their shops and restaurants. Oh, and—no lie—at least five dogs and two chickens claiming every block.
The town’s main street, Avenida Tercer Mundo, runs all the way to the beach, where it turns into a tiny plaza, surrounded by a few modest restaurants. The plaza serves as a hub for folks coming and going to those restaurants, taking in the spectacular sunsets, or just checking in with friends and neighbors.
La Joya is still a small town—at the last census, fewer than 1,500 full-time residents. Other measures of scale: Instead of buses or pasajeros, many locals run their everyday errands on their motos or skateboards. If it’s a family, they’re in four-wheelers or golf carts.
And I’m finding the familiarity just enchanting; if you meet someone today, it’s quite likely you’ll run into them tomorrow…and every day. And what a nice feeling when most La Joyans I’ve met, even if only once and several days ago, are now greeting me by name. (Of course, I’m doing my best to reciprocate, but its taking some covert jotting in my trusty notebook, and a bit of homework.)
I’m pretty sure townies and members
of the polo club live in different realities.
COMMUNITY VALUES – La Joya seems to enjoy a proud, cohesive community spirit. It’s evident in the town’s avowed commitment to environmental responsibility, in the quality and variety of its schools and public spaces, in its community service programs and Entre Amigos, the vibrant community center. The town even has a humane society.
I see a comfortable integration of Mexican and gringo La Joyans all over town. Blended families dining together. Diverse groups of moms sharing children’s activities child-care.
Every Tuesday local creative types gather in la Plaza del Sol to show their wares at a wonderful artisans’ market—visual art, jewelry, artisanal foods, weaving, woodworking, naturopathic remedies…you name it. Here, though, most of the exhibitors appear to be gringos.
MAKING IT WORK – I ask myself, how far does the integration go? I’m pretty sure, for example, that townies—the folks who appear to be scraping out a living in the hospitality industry—and members of the polo club—yes, there’s a polo club—living just across an invisible-but-readily-apparent boundary, in the opulent northern fringes of town, live in different realities.
They’re incredibly patient with old
geezers trying to perfect their Spanish.
A SAVORY PAELLA – This pueblo may not fit the homogenous-Mexican image I’d kind of fantasized about. But it’s proving even better—a savory paella of “types:” middle-aged, mild-mannered gringo couples likely here on day trips from a more mainstream destination just an hour’s drive down the coast; muscle-shirted, tat-festooned, pit-bull-armed bruisers; skinny hippy/artist types; surfer dudes; dread-locked Rastas; and some Mexican tourists from other parts of the country.
The native-Mexican locals are exactly what nearly all the Mexicans I’ve ever met are: hard-working, kind and generous, devoted to their families, and deeply proud of their heritage and culture. They’re eager to help, curious about visitors’ homes and families, and incredibly patient with old geezers trying to perfect their Spanish.
Still, there are no skyscrapers or even big hi-rises here…yet. Historical community standards restrict buildings to a maximum height of three stories plus a top-level palapa. Nearly all existing buildings respect the standard, but a few already built, and several under construction, have already shattered that convention.
You meet someone today, and it’s
quite likely you’ll run into them
tomorrow…and every day.
INTIMATE SCALE – I think I said in my first post in this series that it’s crowded here. I’m rethinking that. It depends on the time of day. Yes, in late afternoon and into the evening certain small pockets along the three or four main streets bustle with activity. Busy sidewalk restaurants, some street entertainers, an occasional cluster of young people drinking and socializing.
But get up and out before 9:00 AM and it’s every bit the sleepy little village I’d imagined. The only folks moving at that hour are a few runners and bikers, municipal workers and delivery guys, and people getting ready to open their shops and restaurants. Oh, and—no lie—at least five dogs and two chickens claiming every block.The town’s main street, Avenida Tercer Mundo, runs all the way to the beach, where it turns into a tiny plaza, surrounded by a few modest restaurants. The plaza serves as a hub for folks coming and going to those restaurants, taking in the spectacular sunsets, or just checking in with friends and neighbors.
La Joya is still a small town—at the last census, fewer than 1,500 full-time residents. Other measures of scale: Instead of buses or pasajeros, many locals run their everyday errands on their motos or skateboards. If it’s a family, they’re in four-wheelers or golf carts.
And I’m finding the familiarity just enchanting; if you meet someone today, it’s quite likely you’ll run into them tomorrow…and every day. And what a nice feeling when most La Joyans I’ve met, even if only once and several days ago, are now greeting me by name. (Of course, I’m doing my best to reciprocate, but its taking some covert jotting in my trusty notebook, and a bit of homework.)
I’m pretty sure townies and members
of the polo club live in different realities.
COMMUNITY VALUES – La Joya seems to enjoy a proud, cohesive community spirit. It’s evident in the town’s avowed commitment to environmental responsibility, in the quality and variety of its schools and public spaces, in its community service programs and Entre Amigos, the vibrant community center. The town even has a humane society.
 |
Every Tuesday local creative types gather in la Plaza del Sol to show their wares at a wonderful artisans’ market—visual art, jewelry, artisanal foods, weaving, woodworking, naturopathic remedies…you name it. Here, though, most of the exhibitors appear to be gringos.
MAKING IT WORK – I ask myself, how far does the integration go? I’m pretty sure, for example, that townies—the folks who appear to be scraping out a living in the hospitality industry—and members of the polo club—yes, there’s a polo club—living just across an invisible-but-readily-apparent boundary, in the opulent northern fringes of town, live in different realities.
Well, one would be presumptuous pretending to understand the inner workings of a town based on just two weeks of observation. But, hey, for all the diversity, for all the challenges besetting any little “hidden gem” of a town that’s no-longer-hidden, the folks in "La Joya" seem to make it work.
And I have come to love them.
TO COME: A few restaurant and lodging reviews and a visit to the magical jungle glade called Las Hadas
/\_ /\_ /\_
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