Caribbean Mexico

We spent an entire week at the Mayan Resort in the Yucatan (Mexican Riviera) and had our first true vacation of the year! Along with the Iguanas – we were a pair of lounge lizards. You could find us at either one of the massive pools under a woven palapa, on a partially submerged chaise lounge, on a large King Size Bed next to the pool immersed in our books (FICTION) or at our own private patio with palm trees fanning us. At times Jim roved around and took photos (this place has its own crocodiles, flamingos, private beach, huge health club – it has it all). Suzan took water aerobics classes (though these turned out to be more about standing in a circle holding hands and sharing about ourselves than getting much exercise). Nights were spent either preparing our own meals in our fully-equipped kitchen in our suite or going out to one of the restaurants. Our favorite dining spot was called Havana’s, a Cuban Restaurant, with a view of the Caribbean Sea and the pier with dazzling lights to our left and the Cuban band with large dance floor to our right. We danced to our own rhythm (our own latin creations as…we need more lessons)! Then we’d stay up reading until 1:00am…resort life – a vacation from our adventures. We needed one!

I must add that I felt so grateful when our week was up and we weren’t headed for the airport (as in years past while in the working world). Instead we were on our way to another resort with more than two months remaining and two other countries to visit. Ah for the Nomad life.

While on the treadmill at the resort’s health club, I looked up at the television and read, “50,000 evacuate Southern CA wildfires.” The brief report disappeared after showing a shot of raging fires across the screen. We went to our room to turn the television on and learned that the brunt of the wildfires were in San Diego County.

Our cell phone would not work, nor would the hotel’s outgoing phone line so we went to the internet area to connect with friends and family. Nearly all had to evacuate and we’d asked our Tenant, Anita, to crawl into the trunk of my VW bug parked in the garage, with a flashlight since the light did not work, and find our two laptops, hard drive, and then take all of our paintings from the walls. God bless her!

We were so relieved and grateful when we heard back from our friends and family that their homes had been spared, including ours. Yet so many homes had been lost…homes that had once been filled with family noise, conversation, laughter, deeply personal belongings – universes of their own creation – now were no more. Mother Nature had once again unleashed her unpredictable fury.

I imagined myself with my arms wrapped around the planet Earth - this land containing all whom I love, all that matters – all that is. As I curled up on the lounge chair with the azure blue Caribbean to my left, a pool with streaming lakes to my right – realizing that the worst scenario here is a sudden rain shower – gratitude flooded through me.

Feeling so thankful I sent a huge prayer to San Diego – to the precious lives spared – and especially to those who had been marred by the destruction. I held in prayer the years it would take those affected to rebuild their homes and their lives from the smoldering ashes and asked that they receive the patience of piety to go through the process.

I kept wondering though, Why do we need such harsh reminders of how precious life is?

While at the Grand Mayan we attended a timeshare presentation. We figured what pressure could there be, we already own one. And we would receive $100.00 credit toward our meals plus 10% off of our entire bill. Well worth the effort.

Over a gargantuous breakfast buffet with our sales representative, a suave gentleman named Fabian (½ Italian; ½ Spanish) with a balding head, a bold stature, and an impressive background (formerly in Pharma Sales and he held an MBA in Marketing). We realized later that they must assign the Great White Sharks to the owners.

After our filling breakfast we walked into an oversized room filled with round tables and people sitting around them in trance-like postures. The 'sharks sales presenters' were all suited up and all of the ‘fish victims’ were in leisure wear. We were promised 90 minutes only for the presentation and gave 5 hours of our time. Where did the time go?

It wasn’t until I excused myself to go to the bathroom that I remembered why we were there. Not to purchase anything – only to take our discount and run. In the bathroom I recalled that we do not need the golf membership – we don’t play golf. We’d tried brokers in the past and it had never worked. Why would we need two extra weeks when we have four already. We do live in America and vacations here are scarce!....It is just that he kept discounting the price each time we tried to walk away…we thought it might soon be given to us for free….

I came back from the bathroom and kicked Jim’s leg under the table. He had a strange glaze in his eyes.

At this point I felt my anger rise like a scalding fever. I scrunched my face and looked between Jim and Fabian sitting side by side. I thought, “How did we let this happen? What are we still doing in this room?”

“Jim, we do not need to spend the money now. We promised each other that we came here for only one reason – the discount. What happened?” I said.

“That’s true. We really do not need all those upgrades. Okay – we are back to NO,” Jim said.

“Let me check with my Sales Director,” Fabian said as he briskly walked away. He came back with yet another set of lower sales figures with terms of 6 months at 0 percent interest. No need to even think about it right. The American way…….”We said, NO. And now we would like to GO,” I replied.

Fabian shook our hands lightly with a sad, long face. “I don’t know why you have not bought with us. You are missing out on the only opportunity that you will have.”

We walked away from the shark tank and returned finally to our vacation, to the pool, to lounge chairs and to our books. And wondered what we had ever been thinking. A full day of sales badgering is never worth $100.00 or any discount…we have now attended our last timeshare presentation.

We next stayed at the Oasis Resort, a much smaller property filled with Mexicans, Spaniards and Italians with the majority being adults. What a difference the clientele of a resort can make. This ambience felt chic with a European pulse whereas our last place, though magnificent, seemed to have clientele creating a Disneyworld affect.

There were other disappointments here though. We went to work out at the gym and instead of a plush two story building with trainers, loads of equipment and such (as we had at our last place) we found one small room with rusting antiquated equipment. No worries though, walking in the thick white sand (as white as a baby’s butt) along the aqua blue and emerald Caribbean Sea became exercise enough. The sky often had such a remarkable hue of colors of blue, then purple, then dark hovering black. The air had a magnetic feel as the thunder storms approached. We traveled here on the cusp of the hurricane season as we figured this was a small risk to take to receive nearly a 50% discount off the rate.

One night we listened to a Latino band in the lobby area put their groove on with the dazzling Euro crowd in the background. We again feigned our Latino moves. I did feel a red rush of embarrassment as we moved our feet to the beat and they were not at all doing the Salsa. Jim didn’t seem to mind as much as me – of course I was convinced that all eyes in the room were upon us. (as if we command that much attention). Jim reminded me that most of the crowd was sitting down – they didn’t have our courage. So we shuffled along and enjoyed ourselves thinking that all those seated were missing all the fun.

A typical day at the Grand Oasis had us outdoors at the sushi bar sampling many varieties; sipping on beers; reading our novels under umbrellas; and then walking the bright white beach sands with many shades of green and white foamy waves splashing us all the while. The Caribbean landscape here is such an artist’s palette. The light and dark blues of the sky with patches of dark grey and black promise another quick pass through rain shower. We found the beach studded with coral seashells; European couples kissing with abandonment; children playing in the sand with buckets or in the water jumping waves; many other vacationers of all ages were snoozing under the scores of palapas along the beach landscape. And we returned from our walk to another carefully orchestrated buffet stretched out before us in the dining room for our consumption. Wine and beer pour freely and the mostly European guests seemed to flit from table to table sharing joviality.

The Europeans seem to travel in large numbers of family and friends, perhaps an entire village, so they are set when they arrive with their babysitters and party going companions. Who would have thought we would have had another European experience across the Mexican border. There is much to learn from these people with a profound sense of belonging to one another. I guess the lesson bears repeating!

The most challenging aspect of Mexico had nothing to do with the food...it was this ferry ride that takes everyone over to Cozumel. The ferry swayed from side to side and shook as if it was in a typhoon rather than an ordinary trip across. Everyone who sat in the rear of the ferry on the upper deck - were soaked - as if they had sat on the lowest row at the Shamu Stadium at Sea World. The musicians did their best to distract us although all of their equipment toppled over and they lost their electric connection....they still belted out some tunes...anything to justify getting their tips before we disembarked. The man in front of me stopped to kiss the ground when we climbed off the ferry. I realized we had one more trip later....yikes!