Publio Donates Blood

It’s been a quiet week in Mazatlán. So while we wait for the next holiday which is, predictably, right around the corner, I’m going to tell you a story about one of Ernesto’s friends

Publio is Neto’s friend and his best surfing buddy. Fifteen years younger than Neto, Publio is from a very musical family and plays a variety of instruments. He is currently a drummer in a band with his older brother, a flute player, when he isn’t at his job delivering furniture.

Publio’s mother, a hard-working woman from Mexico, recently retired as a gardener at the Holiday Inn. His father, from Ecuador, used to work for Cirque de Soleil in Las Vegas. He was the strong man at the bottom of  the human pyramid until he fell and broke his back, never able to work again.

Publio grew up in Mazatlán and did well in school. Due to generous support from his father, he graduated from high school and followed his brother to Mexico City to attend the university. Publio and Neto returned to Mazatlán about the same year. Neto was evicted from the U.S. by a Tucson judge who believed it was time for Neto to go back to surfing. Publio dropped out of college, left Mexico City to join a Reggae band, and eventually found his way back in Mazatlán. They met one day at the corner grocery store. Neto loved the music of Bob Marley and was fascinated by this young guy from the neighborhood with long deadlocks, a quick smile and a quiet voice.

Publio’s mother never forgave Neto for encouraging Publio’s interest in surfing and, in her mind, leading him astray. Alicia wouldn’t allow Neto into her house, so Publio spent a lot of time at our place. He was Neto’s right-hand man whenever a job needed a right-hand man. Lots of time he stayed for lunch. I’ve always liked Publio. He’s a quiet, gentle giant ~ a nice contrast to Neto’s sometimes exhausting exuberance and impulsivity. 

One day Publio came to our house to let us know that he needed to donate blood for his diabetic uncle, a local Mariachi musician. Why a seemingly healthy man with diabetes needed fresh blood was one of a long list of Mexican customs I never understood and learned not to question. Before he could donate blood, however, Publio had to have his blood tested to make sure it was “strong enough.” At the time, Publio was only thirty years old, practically a virgin, and one of the strongest men in Mexico. His blood, however, was found to be too weak to donate.

Not to be deterred, Publio drank a concoction that the blood center mixed up. Since Neto was with him and thought that maybe his blood needed a pick-me-up, he asked if he could have one, too. It took them about thirty minutes to swallow their highballs of celery, garlic, tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil and liver powder. Publio gagged every time he took another sip. Neto just asked for a little Tabasco to make it taste better.

The next day Publio donated blood but then felt too shaky to come to work. Neto felt fine but he didn’t come to work either, out of sympathy for his friend who didn’t feel well.