What Meeting "Nacho" Meant to Me

The "Better Call Saul" award-winning actor happened to go to Harbin same day as me.

promo stock photo of Michael Mando

It’s a gorgeous autumn day at Harbin Hot Springs in northern California, a place that is bittersweet for me to visit since the 2015 fire that decimated but did not destroy it. Wednesday was my third return in as many years for a day trip only. Before the fire, I would stay for days, a camping space staked out on the deck with a view of Lake County mountains; the nearby communal kitchen a place to store and prepare my breakfast and lunch; a gourmet dinner to look forward to in the spacious dining room with tables, inside and out, other guests to chat with, or a time to sit solo and journal. All of that is gone now. The rebuild is different and takes time and I get stuck on the old, the way things were.

My now grown daughters sometimes join me - although the older one got to go at six months of age, and here she is in a shot I quickly snapped at the fountain outside the dining room - which is… you guessed it… also gone.

My oldest daughter’s first trip to Harbin Hot Springs, Oct 1997. My former husband and I camped with her in a tent that trip, and I taught her to hold her breath underwater in the heart-shaped warm pool that the 2015 fire did not and could not destroy.

The pre-fire Harbin I loved so much also had a white-domed temple, a yurt with a swamp cooler and a shiny vermillion floor, unbelievably cool in the middle of a hundred degree afternoon. I danced and writhed on that floor, with scarves or hoops or laid down my mat in a mandala shape for yoga. There were always a plethora of donation-based classes offered.

One magical morning, I showed up to take a yoga class, and instead, ended up teaching it and the next one, too, pinch-hitting for an ill teacher. I remember looking at the fistful of cash from the donation basket and specifically thought: People offered me money for teaching yoga at Harbin. I can die happy.

I loved every second of that spontaneous opportunity. For me, that experience was all the more perfect because it lacked forethought, a playlist and my Tibetan bowls but did include coffee breath and uncombed hair. Since then, I’ve been blessed to work as a yoga assistant to a world-class teacher at Esalen Institute a number of times, but this, this was all me and it was awesome and an important milestone in my teaching life.

Another thing I loved about Harbin - and I know I’m not alone - was the metal gate, the body of a heavy-scaled dragon with a ruby red eye. That’s gone, too. They’ve replaced it with another dragon, simple smooth metal and no stone in its eye; and like seeing a new dog after your beloved dog dies, you have to put aside the memory of what was to focus on what’s in front of you and be happy for that.

Can you guess what else is gone besides that ruby-eyed dragon? The woman who walked up and down those paths with nonchalant ease, took classes - or jumped up and taught two in a row - threw on hiking boots and just went, swam laps, and never once wondered: Am I up for it? Will my body hurt? Can I do it? I’m not saying I am unable to do any of these things now, but what I am saying is, I’d have to think about it first, and choose.

When it came to Harbin, I only went on weekdays due to my work schedule so I didn’t experience it as packed full of people with a rumored, notorious sexual vibe. My experience was that very few people flouted the large signs emblazoned: “Sexual Activity Prohibited.” Harbin actually adheres to retreat atmosphere restrictions and years ago, in the before-fire time, I once saw a group of people escorted out for smelling like marijuana. So there’s that.

I’m telling you about the Harbin I loved with its once huge organic garden where now, tiny plants struggle their way out of the dust. Maybe you can understand why it has bummed me out to go there now. Weekdays? It’s a construction zone below the pools. A very calm, organized construction site, so there’s that, and I do have mad respect for everybody connected to what Harbin is accomplishing with their grit and heart to rebuild.

They have much to teach me about resilience, apparently.

And so do the hot springs because the thing about hot springs is that fire couldn’t and didn’t destroy them. The center of Harbin is the three tiers of pools fed by an adjacent spring which include a very large meditation silent pool of warm water, followed up to a semi-enclosed smaller pool with stairs leading down on each side of an extremely hot pool. A pool so hot I swear you could cook Ramen in it! From there, walk up cement stairs rimmed with statuary and when you turn the corner, there’s an open air cold plunge pool. Around these three pools built into the hillside are additional pools including pools for chatting quietly and where children are allowed. There’s also a large swimming pool and decks with chaise lounges. These things remain and are much as they were for which I am so grateful.

The huge ornamental fig tree that hung over the silent mediation pool is gone, but I can see now that that turned out to be a good thing - its absence gave more juvenile ones on the side a lot more space, and having more sky over the pool is nice, too - and probably much easier for the caretakers.

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Into this world, this past Wednesday, as I was preparing to leave, I noticed the unmistakable face of one of my favorite actors walk by. (I’m talking one of my top five where Viggo, obviously, reigns supreme at the top.) My daughter said she saw my face change when he walked past and thought - and this is verbatim what she said: “Well, I thought, I can’t read my mom’s mind but wow, she is checking out that guy!” This is not normal behavior for her mom and I did not notice that she noticed my quick and discreet double-take. I said nothing but moved to the foyer of the sauna to warm up and comb my hair. My thought process was, well, if it is him, it doesn’t matter, because I refuse to be a pest or invader of privacy and space - especially at a clothing optional hot springs!

Minutes later, he walks in to where I am - surely, by coincidence. But wait! He’s here in my space and we’re talking - like two people chatting. I said, “Is it you? You were my favorite character.” He beamed a smile at me and said, “That was so long ago.”

(In an actor's life, six seasons that ended three years ago is an eternity.)

“Is it?” I said, “because you were wonderful. I was obsessed with you, to be honest.” He said he usually tells people it’s not him and I said, “but you sound just like him!” That made him laugh and he looked at me with those beautiful freaking eyes in that beautiful freaking face!

“I know a lot about you actually,” I said. “I know you’re Canadian, born in Quebec. I know your height, your first language.” I searched his face for a sign of scorn or impatience but found none. I had just soaked five hours straight and was as plain as a pancake. I noticed myself in the mirror and thought, this is the ugliest, stupidest robe and I will never wear it again! I turned away back to my daughter and another older woman using the mirror who seemed to be paying zero attention.

Mr. Mando went into the sauna and I quietly told Jo and the lady that he was an actor I adored. They had no idea, but the older lady said, “well, go for it - he did seem to linger…” Oh FFS, I say.

Jo said, “Maybe he actually appreciates being recognized by someone. Maybe it’s the lift he needed today.” She had never watched “Breaking Bad” or “Better Call Saul” so she said that to her he was just a dude, “but a good-looking one” and then later, “It’s kind of neat to see that actors are just people.” She also told me that I was low-key and cool and I said I’m just very proud of myself for not squealing.

As Jo and I continued to make the move to leave, gathering the day’s things by the large swimming pool, he was doing the same and came by and said something else to me - who knows what as it was a blur - and I wished him continued success with his career. Still later, walking down the path to exit through the dragon gate, Jo and I see him pulling out in a little sleek car and we wave one final time. You see, at Harbin, time slows down and nobody is in a hurry and often strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet.

I decided to write about meeting Michael Mando because of the reaction I got from a couple women at work the following day. To my surprise, they immediately swooned and burst out with their own “love of Nacho” stories. Ok, so it’s not just me. That actually makes me feel better, like, not creepy.

You see, if you didn’t watch the series, you might not know this, but he was objectively fabulous (nominated for Emmys and Golden Globes and won a bunch of Canadian awards, etc) in one of those heartbreaker roles where he's a bad guy who's really a good guy who's bad in a good way and good in a bad way, and vulnerable and sweet and sexy. You have to have that energy in you somewhere to act that energy is what I think.

That angel face in a hunky body shouldering all the unfairness in the world while stuck in impossible conundrums bent and broke my heart on nights alone in my home when I so enjoyed the breaking and the bending. I google-stalked him and fantasized about making him a sandwich.

His (spoiler alert) death scene was incredible, his love for and frustration with his father - gut-wrenching, the unbelievable vulnerable tension in the scene when Lalo is frying meat on the grill and Nacho thinks he might get killed right then and there - all of that pathos went right in and stayed there. I hope he knows more great acting jobs await him - I’m sure - and I wish for him a lot of peace and hot springs and a very long career telling stories with his fantastic, special, sweet, sexy energy.

And if he ever wants a sandwich…