A slower pace and Rocks that BREATHE

I wanted a slower pace in a normal little Mexican town and that is what I have found in Bacalar.  So slow in fact, that I have fallen into a rhythm of trying to find things to occupy myself.  Those of you who know me well know that I am project driven and accustomed to being busy.  Which is EXACTLY why I chose Bacalar, because old habits die hard and sometimes need some coaxing.  I have to say - once the guilt of doing nothing subsides,  I am rather enjoying learning to take a breath and respond to the amazing synchronicity occurring here.  I have the offer of a free condo to stay in in Playa del Carmen in June and there's no way I'm giving that up.  So!  Bacalar and calm for now - subletting from friends I met in Tulum (one of those synchronous events) I'm living in their place while they are off doing research on sea turtles! They return at the end of May, by which time it'll be time to leave for Playa.

Bacalar is really interesting with a history dating back to Mayan times, early trade routes and pirates a plenty. The town itself having been built in 1545, when the Spanish Fort anchoring one end of the Plaza was built.  The picture on the right was taken from the top of the fort built to guard the town as pirate ships came to raid the area, known for a wood that produces dyes valued in Europe! Appropriately named Laguna Siete Colores, the lagoon lives up to its name and looks for all the world like the Caribbean, but is fresh water and gets its colors partially from high mineral content and sandy bottom once away from the marshy bottom at the shoreline.   It's very low key and the place I'm staying, Pata De Perro, is right on the square, which comes alive at dusk with Mexican families.  I've not really gotten into swimming the lagoon - there's really not a beach, one needs a dock to go off into the water. I admit to being squeamish about treading into a marshy bottom and wading through grasses. That's a little of my Louisiana swamp history coming to bite me.  But once you're out about 20 feet from the shore the bottom is sandy and beautiful.

When the local tourist season, which consumes much of April, settles down, I'll take a tour of the lagoon and get to see the Stromatolites (left), one of Bacalar's claim to fame. Stromatolites date back 3.5 billion years and contributed to the creation of earth's atmosphere, being oxygen producing structures that look like rocks. There are areas you can swim among these structures and there are only a few places on the planet where they exist.  Can't wait till the crowds leave and Bacalar resumes it's quite existence.   

In the meanwhile, I'm plotting my next move, doing a lot of reading, using the few hours of the morning before it gets deathly hot and humid to walk and get to the market.  There's no real shopping here, so the first thing I had to do was find cooler clothes.  While there are beautiful embroidered shirts and tops available here, they're not cool, nor easy to wash.  It grieved me to do it but I had to venture into Walmart and get something to wear.  God forgive me - but there was no choice - no little shops here with anything but little kid clothes.  So a friend and I hopped the bus, went into Chetumal and approached said store with foreboding.  But there it was - three t-shirts and two thin, hot weather dresses and an exercise ball later, I'd spent less than $50 US.  

Oh yes - can't forget this... Another reason tourists flood to Yucatan - and believe me it HAS been discovered - has to do with the Cenotes that pepper the area.  These are huge sink holes that have filled with water and are (often) connected via an underground river that can be transited through the cave system, giving rise to a lot of Cave Diving tourism.  I may not be describing it exactly right, but they are pretty amazing and a little creepy.  One near here is called Cenote Azule and is about 90 feet deep. As you can see, it's enormous.  There are others that are part of the lagoon and I plan to explore those soon. 

At the moment I have a giant lizard clinging to my screen.  At night there are barking geckos and a tiny night bird that chirps outside my window.   On Saturdays,  I shop for fish and shrimp in the local market and much to my surprise some of the spices I considered basic for Mexican food are not to be found down here!  Yucatan food is different from central Mexico and that's different from northern (which is most like what we get in Texas).  So ground cumin is not available, but every kind of pepper is in abundance and I've discovered some new fruits.  The pork is amazing and served with the marinated red onions and lime.  Fortunately, it's a healthy walk to the source and usually only available early morning. Otherwise I could see becoming as round as the source of said pork.

Lovely people run this hostel and I'm forming some strong friendships - another reason to stay put for a while, although tomorrow I'm getting the bus to Campeche for a couple of days. On the Gulf side of the peninsula and a six-hour bus ride non-stop,  I've heard it's like a visit to Spain - the old town being completely walled with only 2 - 3 entrances.  Lots of history there.  

Hasta luego!

Isla Mujeres in the Rear View Mirror

The last night on Isla Mujeres was balmy and blessedly calmer than all of the preceding week.  Spring-breakers are gone and now the island prepares for the onslaught of  local tourists on Easter break. Young travelers - gypsy musicians who sleep on the beach and  finance their stay with their music add to the mix of sounds and a little mystery.  I’ve been told Guadalajara and Mexico City essentially experience an Exodus as people head out for vacation spots: i.e. the beach.  The bottom line for beach communities is there is essentially no LOW season, so it is erroneous thinking to believe one can get a deal down here before the end of April or May and even then only June seems slow – or so I’m told.  But last night evidenced a brief lull in activity and it was nice to wander the streets in relative calm.   For all its tourism and amenities, Mexico also experiences its challenges with infrastructure and resources: water goes out in hotels, as does power, but it's all part of the mas-o-menos, manana vibe. If you're on a tight schedule, you probably you probably don't need to be here.  Or wait! Maybe you DO need to be here -it'll definitely readjust your internal clock.  I'll not get too comfortable with expecting things and it’s good to stay in a state of gratitude for what’s there.

Green turtle not ready for release

Have had a very nice week: lots of walking from one end of the island to the other with a new friend, seeing rich and poor alike, the disparity stunning. Visited a turtle nursery where turtles are hatched and raised in tanks until they are big enough to be released to the ocean. Not sure that’s a good model, since I’ve met a group of turtle researchers and conservationists along the way.  Turtles raised this way don’t have the opportunity to learn, imprint and reinforce instinct to know where to breed, feed, etc.  Kind of like raising any wild animal in captivity then releasing them to fend for themselves in the wild. 

In my usual pre-travel sleeplessness, I awoke at 4:40 AM remembering I needed to find my Sea-Bands (magical wrist bands that work on an acupressure point) to keep from tossing-my-cookies from motion sickness.  Knowing I'd put them in a safe place, the challenge was to find the hiding place again! After unpacking every piece of clothing, books, cosmetics etc. – knowing I put them in a safe place because they are my travel lifeline – I couldn’t find the damn things.  Hoping they would manifest before getting on the ferry, I went to breakfast and discovered I’d  put them in the hidden pocket of my purse purchased for that very reason - the pocket was SO secrete even I forgot about it! Always being on the move, packing, unpacking, planning for the next contingency has a downside, but never fails to bring on a lesson or a gift: non-attachment, kindness to self, recognition that I have an inner personal-assistant (PA) who has usually taken care of something when I wasn't looking. I don't know why she puts up with me.  This is why I need to stop moving around - the inner bitch (IB) and the personal assistant are getting a little testy and they need to go to separate rooms. Headed to Tulum next and had a hard time finding a place to stay.  This doesn't bode well for being a calm place... or for the IB and the PA to have some down time.

Anyway, Renaud helped my schlep my stuff to the ferry, which arrived in 10 minutes and was flawlessly easy. As a burly Russian told me one time, "Sometime woman need man," and I certainly appreciated this one. Thank you Renaud for seeing me off and for a fun week. On the ferry, I met a couple going to the bus station, so even the catching of a taxi there was easy. Having arrived just in time to catch the bus just as it was closing it's doors, I'm reminded again that Mexico is not Uganda; transportation is almost meticulously on time and comfortable. In fact, I watched Les Miserables en route to Tulum.

Tulum resident

Hostel Sheck, my anticipated new home away from home,  was another matter entirely and except for the obvious downside of marketing should have been  named Hostel Shock.  When I’d booked a private room with a shared bath, I had no idea I’d be sharing one toilet and three curtain-less showers with 15 other people.  The receptionist must have registered the look of horror on my face, because the manager showed up within moments and volunteered to give me my deposit back and help me find another place.  That is seldom done here - yet another stroke of luck.  Luggage in tow, I checked into a place aptly called The Weary Traveler and didn’t give the extra cost any thought because it offered AC and a  p-o-o-l. Never mind no hot water and barely a drip of a shower.

Almost instantly met a group of young people involved in turtle conservation and they invited me along on a trip to the ruins the next morning! This was worth the trip to Tulum, which otherwise is basically a town that grew up around tourism and has none of the charm of most of the cities I've visited.  It doesn't help that that it was 90+ degrees with 90% humidity, but the wind at the ruins and the spectacular views created a good distraction.  The setting was truly breathtaking. The wind really whipped up the surf so I opted out of snorkeling later and regret not going.   The next day was an exercise in frustration, waiting to leave, missing another snorkel opportunity - my own fault.

My love affair with blue water is almost directly proportional to my ability to walk along a beach with the surf tickling my toes, whether or not I actually get in the water. Thus far that has only happened once here - on Isla Mujeres. This experience is certainly different than it was being on a boat when I/we could just throw on some snorkel gear and slither of the side.  Here one has to plan and pay for trips, get transport, intuit the system and endure heat that I didn't seem to care about when I was twenty-something, thirty-something and surrounded by water.  I still want to be near water, but it has to be a cooler coast. The roots of  siesta are abundantly clear.

Spent the next day waiting for my turtle-friends (Courtney, Adam and Sam) to finish up with a meeting so I can go with them to find Bacalar.  Since we delayed until almost 5 PM, it got too late for me to strike out on my own and have any hope of finding the hostel in the dark.  We finally arrived at about 10 pm and I was thrilled to find my room waiting and the shared bathroom (only one other woman) clean, with a hot shower and great water pressure.  Courtney cooked rice and veggies for the volunteers they collected in Tulum and invited me to join them. I hungrily accepted.  Tomorrow we'll see what Bacalar looks like in the daylight and check out the possibility of renting an apartment.

The place I'm staying is called Patas de Perro (legs of the dog), colloquial for someone who is always on the move.  We were greeted by two resident Perros and there are dog-prints painted on the walls, leading the way to the rooms.  I think I'll like it here...

Turquoise water!

Finally - the sound of the surf, sea breezes, turquoise water!  I literally felt my skin shrivel in Merida.  While it was already pegging at 116, I was told - it's not really hot yet.  Even for this Texan - that's hot with a humidity in the 90 percent range.

So, back to the bus, then ferry and finally the surf.  I admit to having felt fairly flat since being in Mexico except for those unexpected moments of pure joy that erupt over some random sighting, smell or experience. The fact that I've still been dealing with getting Peter in school has contributed to the malaise.  More on that later as a way of responding to queries.

However blue water has a way of healing most maladies in my book and the instant I saw the arch over the highway announcing CANCUN my heart lifted  and when I caught just a glimpse of ocean I knew I was home in the way the soul recognizes:  a place where memories are kept, mysteries abide and the ever changing tide speaks to life. 

Still, I had to disembark and find the ferry to get to the good stuff.   The gods must have been favoring me because I had the good luck of discovering Renaud, a French Canadian who knows his way around Cancun - and more specifically from the bus station to the ferry landing!  Even more to my delight he was headed to Isla Mujeres for his ritual few weeks of escape from Quebec's winter, this - his fifth year.  Like many folks who come and fall in love with the spirit of the Mexican people, the food, the sea and the cost of living, he plans to live here permanently in the not too distant future.  He been my intrepid guide for the week and here are some of the sights.

Fisherman mending his nets

It has been good to tap the well of fond memories:  having lived on the water discovering the sailor within,  summers on sailboats with the kids when life seemed easier, terrifying storms that did not - after all send us to the sharks,  blissful full moon nights where I saw starfish on the sandy bottom at 40 feet.  With a complicated life in between, recovering the wheat and throwing away the chaff was good therapy.   The technicolor hues of the houses, fanciful grave yards, a fishermen mending nets... colluded to reaffirm my love affair with islands and sea side life.

Fisherman's grave boat and all

I was on this island in the early 80s when there was little here but a few buildings, no lodging save a few hammocks that could be rented for $1 per night and the only approach was the single ferry that wallowed its way across the channel from Cancun - and as I recall has engine failure half way across, making everyone aboard green with seasickness.  In the intervening years it's become a tourist Mecca but a little more "real" than Cancun, retaining its spirit and charm.  Five ferries run the gamut from the high end tourist rig with live music to those meant for cars and finally the slow boat that most of the locals or people immune to sea-sickness and with more time take.

Punta Sur (southern point f the island)

 Tomorrow I head for Tulum, known for world class cave diving, postcard perfect lagoons,  Ce
otes (sink holes filled with sea water) and a few World Heritage ruins.  It too has been discovered, but less so.  Will be good to get out of the tourist bustle of Isla Mujeres and with low season starting things should quiet down everywhere.  Looking for a place to hunker down for a while with the key word being cheap.  Naturally I want an ocean view where I can sit and write, meditate and stop moving.  Hmmm - an ocean view for cheap? We'll see how that works...  But luck has been in my favor so far.  I met a couple of women about my age in Merida and discovered they have been interested in applying for Peace Corps! Naturally, that got the conversation going and it ended in one of them offering her condo in Playa del Carmen as a place to stay when it's empty in June.   Can hardly believe my good fortune and intend to take full advantage of what I hear is a spectacular beach.  That will probably mark my final month here, but that leaves April and May to explore and continue with the Spanish!

Peter in his new school uniform

On another front, Peter - about whom some of you have asked:  matters deteriorated by an order of magnitude over the summer as Peter's housing arrangement fell apart and he succumbed little by little to the gravitational pull of his old street behaviors of being the victim and keeping an entire collection of mentors across several continents in chaos.  Certainly Peter has been a victim, but he has also been the recipient of much good fortune. It's been said, "You can take the kid off the street, but you can't take the "street" out of the kid." With each event, I become more aware of how this plays out in Peter's life when things get out of kilter in the slightest.  And they were in full tilt over the summer.

The friend who offered him a place to work and stay was only in it for the money he thought he could extract from me – to help him start a business.  When that did not manifest, he used Peter as a work horse.  Peter left, but left his one metal trunk with all of his belongings there and lost them all when that same “friend” went crazy and burned down his village…  Peter reverted to his old  stir-the-pot behavior and ultimately refused to stay with the friends who offered him a bed.  He preferred instead to sleep in random places, getting sick in the process. Even as all of his belongings were being replaced and school interviews were  imminent, his sullenness, failure to show up to meetings and erratic behavior resulted in his being dropped from the program I thought would mentor him through this year.  Through the consistent help of the one remaining local mentor things came together at the absolute last minute.  A good friend in the States funded this term and it is now up to Peter to make the best use of this opportunity and do it will less drama, because we are all wearing thin.  So, those of you who are interested - stay tuned. Second term is just around the corner, Peter is in a good school that he likes.  The one month term break is nearly upon us and that - once again -poses the challenge of where he will live.    Well - one challenge at a time.  This connection serves as a continued reminder of the privileges most of us enjoy.  The events I mentioned here are not unusual and constitute the daily fabric of life for millions of people.

On that note and one of gratitude, Iwill close because a final walk around the town and a seafood dinner beckon!  

Hasta luego.  Next stop Tulum!