I feel a kinship with hospitality workers. Medicine, for all its fancy science and ridiculous drug names, is a service industry. Ultimately, people need guidance and help. It’s my job to shepherd them towards some goal, not unlike the staff here. I do health (or something close) and they do food and drink (with much greater success), but the fundamentals of how we do what we do are identical.


I watched them behaving as I would, if I were a server here. Like me, they know almost immediately who will be a pain in the ass. Who will want fun and flirty, or who will want subservience to their perceived status. They know who feels out of their element and needs reassuring — who needs to be told the rules — and who knows the ropes and wants a welcome back. I loved watching Jon and Adam (not their real names) work – each would make an excellent doctor or nurse in a different life.

Jon is the Manger here. He’s married with a four month old, and has been working here for 8 years. His wife does not work outside the home, but instead takes care of their young one. Because she is breast feeding, her working hours (at an outside job) are limited by the government. So they decided she would stay home during this time. Eventually their daughter will go to pre-school, which is subsidized by the government. (Data clearly shows governmental investments in preschools pays enormous dividends later in life.) Adam is my age, married, with a teenage son. He, too, has been working here for about 8 years. His wife works as a freelancer, also in hospitality. She has a small business, and enjoys the perks of her job, which allows her time to pick up the kids from school and be available when needed. Both men like working here. They are treated well and the pay is good. Meals for staff are provided from 7 A.M. to 8 P.M. at a staff cafeteria. Other resorts have tried to poach Jon, but they would make him shave his beard because they have strict grooming standards. We all agreed that is stupid and draconian. It would seem Administrators in any field from any country make bone-headed decisions. Jon lives in San Jose del Cabo, while Adam lives in Cabo San Lucas.

The beach and pool staff act as a unit. Knowing what I know about leadership, I sat in my chair and marveled how they operated as one, efficient machine. At some point a drunk American mouth-breather got belligerent with the bar staff. Jon was called over to handle it, and he did so with a deftness I will never forget. It is my sense I would learn more from shadowing Jon for three weeks as an intern than at any leadership course.

Jon asked if I had any kids. I said I couldn’t afford it, which to him was an anathema. It’s my go to response to blow off the more complicated truth. He said, “If I can afford it, surely you can,” to which I said, “Not if I come here regularly.” He chuckled, but the gulf between our worlds suddenly felt very wide. I don’t know how or why I ended up in a chair, sipping fine Tequlia, while they bust their humps for privileged dolts like me.

The pool was a scene, with beautiful rich people displaying their status and privilege. Nice crowd to look at – girls in designer, one-time use, bride-to-be bathing suits – but all the wealth and privilege doesn’t change the immutable fact that none of them … excuse me, none of us … buried in our phones, instagramming our drinks … are the future. Those that hustle, those that manage other people with aplomb, those that can mange themselves, people like Jon, Adam, and David (from the Juan More Taco tour) are the future.

Our time together has concluded. The next trip comes quick, mid-May, where we travel to Namibia. After that, we will likely go on hiatus while I attend P.A. school starting in Fall. I say that, but who knows what my schedule will actually look like. If it’s as leisurely as most academic institutions, I may still be able to travel.

If you have any thoughts about this (or any) trip, drop me a line to let me know. I always enjoy hearing from you all. Feel free to share these posts or the website to others.

I look forward to our path’s crossing again.

Hasta luego, mi amigos.