Life in troncones,
majahua & saladita

The Castillo started to sizzle around 9:45 on Friday, its rockets, sparklers and whistles going off perfectly, just as planned. “Everyone” was there to see its magic—people of all ages, from Los Llanos to Buena Vista, from Pantla to La Unión, turning out the first night of the Troncones Fair. The villages of Saladita, La Boca and Majahua were pretty much empty, except for their cats and dogs. And in Troncones, those critters went looking for a place to hide as their owners enjoyed the loudest and brightest community celebration of the year. The community events carry on through this week, a highlight being Thursday at 6 pm—a showcase of the restaurants of Troncones—a muestra gastronomica. That’s followed by boxing at 8 pm. We’ll be updating the calendar you’ll find after the photos. Check our GO section to see if there’s anything new. We’re still looking for the time of the donkey races.

Along Mexico’s Pacific coast lives the American crocodile [Crocodylus acutus]. Its range stretches from southern Florida through Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean and into northern South America. It’s a coastal species, built for estuaries, mangroves, lagoons and saltwater marshes. Unlike freshwater crocodilians, American crocodiles tolerate and even prefer brackish and saltwater environments. They will occasionally enter the open ocean, especially when moving between estuaries.

Local animal care/spay & neuter non-profit Surfers for Strays is in the midst of planning its third annual spring festival—a scrappy-heartfelt-slightly improvised community event—a unique reggae concert, surf gathering, kids’ workshop, grassroots fundraiser—to held in Saladita, Troncones and Zihuatanejo on three consecutive nights in late March. It’s a lot. But why not? It’s a good time—part road show, part music festival, part education platform, part animal-welfare fundraiser—each part a reminder that in this part of the world everything is connected.

María Jetzabel, at the T in Troncones. At one end of the property, Josefina stands over a pan set on the flame, watching a fish as it hits hot oil. At the other end, her daughter María Jetzabel builds Tostilocos for a younger crowd—lime, chamoy, noodles, chips, candy, something crunchy and bright, served in a cup or bag. Same name. Same family. Two very different restaurants, side-by-side in a town that’s evolving around them.

It’s a rolling community center, farmers market and treasure chest—all in one—the fruit truck. It’s in Troncones somewhere, every other day. It’s always surrounded by people smiling. The guys on the truck—brothers Brayan and Jonathan Moctezuma Acosta—are part of the reason why they’re smiling. That and their produce, which is exactly what you need, even if you didn’t know you needed it.