A Simple Need
Making The Yelapa Light
By Dennis ZulsJust after my 21st birthday in mid-November of 1976, I found myself in Yelapa with my stepbrother Dana, who had appeared from nowhere and camped out in my living room extolling the wonderful virtues of visiting Yelapa, and how it would be great if we could go there but he didn’t have any money. He was always good at talking people into doing things for him, and apparently I was one of them. I counted up my money, scraped up $600, quit my job, and hit the road.
After quite a few adventures along the way from Nuevo Laredo by train and bus for a week, I found myself in a tiny palapa on a mountainside overlooking Yelapa’s bay. It used to stand next to where the giant antenna that serves the town is today. It only cost a few dollars a day, food was inexpensive, and the people in the village were nice folks. The weather was wonderful, my little palm frond hut was all I needed and I realized that for the first time in my life I was rich beyond my wildest dreams.
Anyway, I imagine you’ve gotten gobs of letters from visitors all crowing about what a great place Yelapa is, and I imagine my experiences were very similar to what quite a few people had.
In the evenings, the cantina in the village would have a group of whoever was from somewhere else, and we’d eat fish stew, have lemon pie, drink raicilla, and talk, laugh, and enjoy the life of the place until well after sundown. It would be dark, and there being only the school having a generator, there were few lights and all were by candle. Candles being far less expensive than flashlight batteries, and if people needed to go out at night they would use one. Trouble is, candles are not only vulnerable to a light breeze, they will dazzle your eyes when it’s held in front, so you have to use a second hand as a shield. I was staying pretty high up on the hillside, and where the trail left the village it got steep, narrow, and rocky. I really needed a free hand to help climb sometimes, but they were both involved with the candle much of the time, and if it went out it was a real drag. What a pain in the rear.
A few days later as I was walking through the village headed back to my palapa I came across a trash heap, and all the shiny Nido cans caught my eye. I had a sudden “light bulb” moment! I had a picture in my mind of a Nido can with a candle stub stuck to one side of the inside, with a wire handle. I had a box of candles and plenty of clothes hangers that previous tenants had left in my palapa, so I grabbed a Nido can and hurried home to put together my new light.
I had few possessions with me and found the candles and hangers immediately, and put together my new light in about 3 minutes. I lit it, and it worked really well as a wind proofer, but I had no idea how good it worked as a lantern it being hours before dark yet, and I was chafing to find out. I went down to the cantina earlier than usual and had a beer and waited for the others to come in.
They noticed the can right off, and since it was sitting on its end the first thing they thought was I’d built a crude mug, and were amused when I showed them what it was. We all ate, drank, and enjoyed a fine evening, and later when it got dark I lit my new light and took it outside. Everyone followed me out, and were amazed at just how good a job it did. It wasn’t really bright, but more than bright enough to light the path. We went back inside and drank to the whole thing, and on the way home I found that my new light worked great. Later, I found it was handy when it rained, too.
By the time I left a week later, the things were all over the place. Not so much the natives at first, but when they saw how good they were they wasted no time wiring the things up. It was the perfect answer to a common problem. It was simple, inexpensive, and could be built out of readily available materials.
That was 31 years ago, and since then I’d tell people about Yelapa and the light , an amusing story about a place so far removed from most people’s experience that it seems like a fantasy I made up. But I had a light of my own, and if they wanted to see it I’d break it out and light it. The current version sits on my workbench. It has a drawer handle instead of one made of a clothes hanger, but it works every bit as well as the one I made on that mountainside all those years ago, and it’s a dandy emergency light when the power goes out.
I recently went to Puerto Vallarta as part of a cruise vacation, and went back to Yelapa for an afternoon. I was talking to Brad while on the boat, and he told me I needed to go to the village and tell his wife the story, since she runs the Casa de la Imaginacion it would be of interest to her. She understood English well enough, but couldn’t speak it. Fortunately the 2 volunteers, Mathilde and Anna were there and helped translate. I asked about what they were selling, and bought a small mirror mounted in a woven pop can as a memento.
It was good to see Yelapa again. Wasn’t like coming home again, but it was a memorable time and place and everywhere I looked, I saw a memory. Much has changed, but much has remained the same. And I’m glad I could help.
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