Mexico 5 - Final Chapter

The only goal I had for Mexico was to get away from snow and cold and misery, even if it was just for a few days. Four days in Mexico does not seem like much, but it was exactly what I needed. I returned to Michigan changed from how I left. For me, that is considered a success.

There was something about Mexico I found to be invigorating. Something peaceful. Pleasant. It came at the right time for me, and it offered what I needed. I just did not know it.

The entire time spent in the country was spent speaking only Spanish. I spoke English a few times with Americans; otherwise, it was Spanish with the Mexicans. I was concerned that my Spanish, my Chilean Spanish, would not work very well here, and that I would have trouble understanding Mexican Spanish, but in the end that was not an impediment at all. 

Something about being able to speak Spanish only was a huge relief to me. It was like I got away from myself, got away from the norm. It made me feel like less of a tourist, and more as if I belonged. It pacified me. 

The experiences of Mexico, particularly the swim in the cenotes, made this trip much more than a simple get away. I had people ask about the beaches and the party scene, but this was the closest I made it to the hotel zone.

This trip was about getting away from things, I had no need to re-immerse myself in USA on the beach. I regret nothing about missing out on the beach scene.

My last day in Mexico was quiet, as I had only one thing to accomplish: get to the airport. It was not an early start so I could sleep and walk with ease. 

At the bus terminal I saw a young couple I had seen wandering about Chichen Itza the previous day. Later we found ourselves on the same bus, and I asked them about it. I was being more social. It was, indeed, them, and from Chichan Itza our talk turned to the cenotes. We both were amazed at that experience, joyful we had made it out.

On the same bus was a younger couple. They were returning to Detroit as well, back to Ann Arbor. He a student at EMU.

The first couple was returning to New York City, so our conversation was limited. She had just left her job to devote to traveling. He was a personal trainer to the stars, having just completed work with Mary J. Blige. They asked about Egypt, as that was the next trip they were hoping to make. Unfortunately, our time together did not allow us to speak at length.

By the end of the day I was back in Michigan. The weather had turned for the worst. A snow storm had hit the north and midwest, making travel difficult. But I took it in stride. A few days prior I would have been in misery, but the re-emerged Sebastian had bigger thoughts than the snow to fill myself with. I was new.

I expressed some of these feelings to my younger brother a few days later, and he noted that the tone of my voice had completely changed. He could tell I had an energy about me, a joy I had long lost. 

I have heard throughout my life how people take the occasion of a new year to begin their lives anew, though quite often they return to the norm and the changes made give way to old routine. I had never given much credence to this thinking, as the new year and its celebration is an arbitrary date and observance. But for the first time, I began a year completely different. 2014 Sebastian was not the same as 2012/2013 Sebastian. And for this I have to be thankful.

Mexico 4 - Rebirth

On January 1, 2014, I awoke in an unexpected place. I was in Chichen Itza, Mexico, a decision I made only a few days before. The new year had been celebrated, 2013 had been swept away. A new start awaited me, but how different would this year really be?

I pondered what to do with my day. Should I re-enter Chichen Itza proper and explore the city again? Or venture out and see what I could find. I asked the hotel staff, could I walk to the nearest town (Piste)? Perhaps, but there is absolutely nothing there to see. Best bet is to walk to the other hotel, pick up a cab to Izamal. More to do there, though a bit of a drive. I gathered my belongings and walked to the other hotel. There the desk clerk spoke to me. I told him I had many hours until the bus returned me to Cancun, I had time to kill. What would he recommend? Izamal is OK, but what about the cenotes? Oh, there are more? And what to do there? Well, you could go swimming. Well that is a nice thought. Not too far, and I could kill an hour or two including the drive. And I'd make it back in time for my bus. He called a cab and within a few minutes Antonio was there to drive me to Dzitnup. Here I would find two cenotes nearby each other, Dzitnup/Xkeken and Samula. I could swim in both, or just one.

Antonio was kind and offered to watch my belongings as I took my bathing suit so I could swim. He'd also wait for me, as it was difficult to find a cab here. Provided I did not overstay my welcome, he'd be quite happy to wait. I assured him it would be quick, as I couldn't imagine swimming too long.

I made my way inside, past the men dressed as Mayans in their leopard skins. Past the shops, to the first cenote, Samula. I had no expectations. No one had sold me on this experience. I would go for a swim, enjoy the experience, kill some time.

I was not prepared for what would actually transpire.

The area was not packed, but I was not alone. I climbed the stairs heading down, and came upon a glorious site.

It was a beautiful vision, with the light piercing the cave from above shining upon the cold water. Others were already swimming, but there was plenty of room for everyone. A nook served as a locker for my belongings, and I prepared to enter.

I dove in among the fish, and swam to the rocky outcrop where others had gathered. There I sat and noticed small fish giving me a pedicure, eating away the dead skin on my feet. I sat there among the groups of friends and family, enjoying this unique experience.

And then it happened.  At that moment, I felt something. I did not come to Mexico to have a transformative experience. I did not come to this cenote with visions of a holistic cleansing, and no one I had spoken to promised any such scene. I was just killing time.

2013 had been a trying year for me. Personal relationships, work situations, everything in my life made me experience extreme highs and lows. There was plenty to be thankful for in 2013, but overall the year had not been among the best for me. And it all actually started in 2012, when the joy I had about being in Egypt was snatched from me. As an archaeologist, the opportunity to excavate in Egypt was a dream, and I had the chance to fulfill this dream. But the situations I found myself in the country, and what I had happening back home, squelched the excitement I had going into the journey. As a result, 2013 had me feeling melancholy throughout the year. I felt numb to experiences, lacking the joy I so desperately missed. I was crushed, not knowing how'd I'd ever get that old feeling of adventure and life back.

And with this swim, with this otherwise ordinary dip, 2012/2013 was cleansed from me. I felt it at that exact moment. A smile broke upon my face. A load was removed from my psyche. I felt lighter. I felt relieved. The joy I lost in Egypt came rushing in. What I felt I should have experienced among the deserts came to me here in Mexico. Even now, a month after the experience, the mere act of writing this has those feelings filling me.

I swam about the pool, from corner to corner. I chased the light. I felt weightless.

I had a ticket to swim in the other cenote, so I climbed out. At that moment a busload of Japanese tourists entered the cenote, crowding every last inch. I left just in time.

The cenote Dzitnup was more crowded, though larger.

There was no rocky outcrop here, but the swim was enjoyable albeit not as peaceful. There were more conversations to eavesdrop on. There were birds and bats to watch as they flew about.

The swim here did not last as long as at Samula, but I did not need it to. I had more than I could have ever asked for. I was clean.

The swim took much longer than expected, longer than I had promised Antonio. Fortunately he waited for me and my return to Chichen Itza was assured.

Back at Chichen Itza, a long line had formed to enter. Since I had already been inside, I skipped the line and made for the restaurant.

Maybe it was lack of food, or the experience I had just enjoyed, but that lunch turned out to be the best meal had during my stay. Or maybe it was the special vegetarian dish they made for me. Or the special garlic sauce that accompanied my meal. Or everything mixed together.

I patiently awaited my bus, feeling well fed and happy overall. The return to Cancun was approaching, and I had plenty to be thankful for already.

Sadly, monster bus was not my ride home

Several hours later I was back in Cancun for one final night. I went out for my last meal of this trip.

It was a quiet night, a quiet way to end the day. A day where I expected nothing but achieved so much. A trip just to get away from the snow and cold, I brought back with me a souvenir I could never plan for.

Mexico 3 - Celebration

New year's eve was spent in a hotel just outside Chichen Itza. The Villas Arqueologicas, as did the other hotels on the premises, held special new years menus for the visitors who decided to spend the evening with them. Mayaland had drinks and music and the like. Villas just had the special menu. I made do with the help of Mexican beer and a bottle of Chilean wine. Though there were other revelers in the dining area, each table kept to itself. There was no mass celebration among the guests.

To my right were two elderly people and a young woman. Parents and daughter?

Across from me was a large Spanish family. They were loud. Every time a waiter returned from tending to them he'd pass my table, and he'd give me a look indicating how annoying they were being. Part of this family spent the majority of the evening down the hall in the billiard room, playing loudly, running back into the dining room to flaunt their accomplishments every few minutes.

Sprinkled throughout the rest of the room were various couples. Some American, some Japanese, some Italians, others Mexican.

I ate my meal, imbibed, people watched, and then as the countdown to midnight approached, I found the area that had WiFi so I could speak to and celebrate with loved ones from around the world.

It was a relief to finally be done with 2013. Though there was plenty to be appreciative of, there was plenty I was ready to forget and move on from. Spending it overseas was the best way to end it. The day leading up to this moment helped me remove myself from what had transpired and allowed me to appreciate the world more fully. Get back to what I love.

The three-hour bus ride from Cancun left me right at the entrance of Chichen Itza. T'was nearly noon when I arrived, the area closed at 4:30. I had to be sure to take advantage of the time, so I made a dash for the entrance without looking back. Quickly I go through, past all the vendors, through the trees, and come upon a glorious site.

Eeyore's been to Chichen Itza

I was awe-struck upon seeing this. Such fantastic architecture and craftsmanship. Such fine condition. I just stood here for a long while just taking it, el Castillo, and its surroundings, in.

As I walked about, I overheard the tour guides speak about the structure. Many clapped to point out the echo heard bouncing of the building. I heard about the 52-year cycle. I admired the craftsmanship. I watched the groups pass by, listening in on the conversations in the multitude of languages.

A prolonged period of time was spent at el Castillo, but I had to ensure I ventured out and saw the rest of the site. Following are images from the other structures.

From el Castillo, a visitor can walk in any direction and hit any number of marvelous visions. Paths would lead one through the forest, past the vendors, to all the riches of the site. As I wandered one of these paths, I realized the bananas I had purchased that morning were left on the bus.

Eventually I made it to the cenote. A cenote is a limestone sinkhole  that exposes groundwater underneath. This particular one was used for sacrifices and offerings. Overhearing the tourguides taught me that divers found offerings in this cenote, as well as human remains.

Eeyore hopes not to be a sacrifice

Back down the path I continued my tour through Chichen Itza.

In one corner of the site, I ran into a native of the area. Without asking, I whipped out my camera and decided to take some photos.

Mr. Iguana did not care for the attention, so he scurried off when too many people came close by. Up and over a wall he jumped, leaving me to my thoughts.

Watching the vendors make the wares for sale

Curious if he is done having children

El Caracol, the observatory

Everywhere I turned, every corner of the structures was filled with beautiful craftsmanship. The level of detail on each inch of the site is exquisite, a beauty to behold. The above images attest to the work the denizens of Chichen Itza were capable of.

As the day wound down, I realized I had not exhausted my visit. Though I was sweaty and tired and hungry, I had to make sure I saw everything. I turned back to the entrance, intent on seeing the famous ballcourt.

Am I back in Egypt?

The site of an ancient ballgame that ended with the sacrifice of the loser. Images along the sides told the story of the decapitation of the loser by the victor. Nary a spot in this space was left undecorated.

By this point security began pushing people out. I left the ballcourt and went and had a seat in the grassy area outside el Castillo.

I chatted with some workers there, inquiring about evening events. Unfortunately for me, evening events had been cancelled and would not restart until April. I was left without evening plans.

Still sweaty and tired and hungry, I made my way to the hotel. I was allowed to cut through Chichen Itza, and after some trouble, I finally found my hotel.

There was still time until dinner began, so I decided to go for a swim in the pool in the open central courtyard of the hotel. It was cold, and it got dark rather quickly, but swimming and looking up at the stars was a nice, refreshing experience.

Cleansed from the day, it was finally time to eat. I sat among the various parties in the dining area. The Italians. The Americans. The Spaniards. The Japanese. The Mexicans. Each to their own table. Each celebrating the new year in their own way. I enjoyed beers and a bottle of red wine from Chile. And then came the food. Aztec soup with tortillas, avocado, and tomatoes. The tortillas and guacamole. The pesto pasta.

I observed others. I ate my meal. I sat in complete contentment of a day well-spent. I chatted with the workers when time allowed.

Drinks and food ceased early, but it was still not time for bed. I made my way to the WiFi area of the hotel, to chat with friends and family scattered about the world and celebrate the new year. I sent wishes to them, they returned the wishes back. Thousands of miles from friends, I was not alone.

Just after midnight, the Americans sitting to the right of me at dinner returned from the other hotel where dancing was to take place. They sat with me to partake in the WiFi as well, and we got to chatting. They were all in California. None of them related the way I thought, but I could not discern how they came to be together. The young woman applying to medical school. The elder gentleman an AIDs researcher from Stanford who worked in Zimbabwe. The older woman an anthro undergrad major turned psychiatrist. We were then joined by another couple, among them the daughter of an anthropologist who grew up in Romania.

We all spent about an hour or so talking, being friendly, being social. I even helped the gentleman purchase his airfare, my good deed of the year accomplished quite early.

The new year celebrated, it was time to turn in. Though I did not have much planned for the next day, I knew rest would be welcome.