Where do I get my wash water?

Water for washing, agua para lavar, is obtained from a local water supplier in Rebalisto. It costs $1 to fill a 125 gallon tinaco, or plastic water container that I empty into our large underground water tank, which stores about 1200 gallons. I can also have the water suppliers deliver a 250 gallon tank of water for $10, which I prefer to not do. The water is pumped up from a well that I think is about 40-50 feet deep which fills a 2" black pvc pipe hanging from a tree; I backup the truck and locate the hose right over the tank and fill it up; it only takes a few minutes. If you drill to deep then you hit saltwater and contaminate the well.

The water supplier is a well known and respected family of Rebalisto, la familia Martinez; the patriarch, Martín has several sons, Fernando, Davíd, Jorge, and a couple of others whose names I can't remember; his wife and daughters I have yet to meet. Last February I attended the marriage of his older daughter. It was an evening wedding in a beautiful setting of colored lights hanging from palapas over nicely tables covered with colorful tablecloths and set with flowers and a bottle of tequila; beer was served by waiters dressed in white uniforms, so you never had an empty glass. Live Mexican music reverberated loudly through the air with many of the partiers singing along with the band. Dinner was Birria, goat meat, which is very tasty the way it's prepared in Mexico. It was a joyous occasion, especially for the Martinez family, whom appeared very pleased in front of their guests; and, they must have been happy their oldest daughter fell in love and got married.

Love that pickup
Sharon and I drove an old pickup down here, a 1990 Nissan. As basic a truck as you can get with no power steering, the AC doesn't work, and everything is manual. Here it gets more looks than Sharon did, and she got many because of being tall and blonde, and attractive. But the pickup is admired by every Mexican guy that gets to look at. It's not uncommon for these guys to walk around the truck, running their hand along the fenders, almost as in a caress, while asking me about it; invariably, they ask if I want to sell it. It reminds me of someone checking out a horse before they buy it. Right now I have at least 3-buyers that want it when I return to the US.