Still in Mérida but not for long...

A bit of time has passed since my last post, so I´ll try to update as thoroughly as possible. I´m still, surprisingly, in Mérida, Mexico. This is for three reasons... 1. I´m taking my time, 2. There are a lot of things to see in the outskirts of the city that I want to see before I leave, and 3. I caught a cold and felt too tired to go out and do all the things I wanted to last week. So, to pick up where I left off....

I did indeed go to Progreso, a beach town, the following day. I woke up, walked to the store, got some supplies, packed my things, and caught a bus at about 11:30 AM. It´s funny, there was a part of me that thought something would go wrong, that I´d take the wrong bus or something else would happen to impede my arrival at Progreso, but things went very smoothly. As I move along in this trip of spontenaity, I find that things usually go smoothly. And if they don´t, it´s not that hard to smooth them over. I met a guy from the Netherlands who hitchhiked from Cancún to Mérida, and when he left, he hitchhiked all the way to Palenque. Now that´s budget travel. Anyway, the bus ride to Progreso took about an hour. I got off where everyone else did, went into a random store and asked where the hotels are, compared prices, and finally checked into one for 17 bucks a night. From there I left my huge backpack, gathered my beach supplies, and walked a couple blocks down to the beach. I stayed for about 3 hours; swam, walked, layed in the sun (I later broke out in a strange allergic reaction on my left hand, which is still slowly going away). Then I explored the town until it got dark, had dinner, then returned to the hotel where I showered and settled in for the night.

The following day I returned to Mérida, checked into a different hostel called Hostal Zócalo in the grand plaza, and went to the art museum, which sits in the center of the city beside the cathedral. Seeing the art made me miss Kasey. I left the museum slightly saddened, but happy that at least he can come travel with me earlier than initially planned (April rather than June).

Art Museum

Cathedral

That night, laying in bed at the hostel, I chatted for a while with a Mexican woman in her 50´s who was sleeping in the bed beside me. She seemed pretty bitter. One of the first things she asked me was if I like Obama. Then she pointed out that he has dark skin, and that us Americans don´t like blacks. I patiently explained that´s not how it is, but it was annoying to be judged not by who I am or how I act, but by where I am from. I imagine that´s how many Mexicans in the United States feel. I definitely feel like an outsider here; everywhere I go, as long as I´m in public, there is at least one person staring at me. Men, women, children; I appear to be some sort of spectacle.

At this point I was feeling somewhat unhappy and out of place, especially sleeping in the dorm room of the hostel. People at the hostel partied, went to bed late and woke up early, and weren´t very quiet about it. It is nice meeting people from all over the world, but at the same time, it´s nice to have privacy and personal space. I felt like there was a wall between me and everyone; I was tired, a bit sick, missing Kasey, and I didn´t care enough to associate with them. I just wanted to sleep for 2 days straight without interruptions, but the hostel was full of them.

Dorm at Hostal Zócalo.. bottom bunk was mine.

On February 6th, I finally got my Mexican cell phone up and working; it was time to bring on the couch surfing experience. For those of you who are not familiar, visit this website for an explanation. After walking through the town for a bit during Mérida en Domingo, a weekly festival held every Sunday, I met up with a local couchsurfer named Marianela and a Dutch boy named Dene. I walked quite a distance to Paseo de Montejo to meet them at an ice cream shop, where we chatted about Mayan history. We then came back to the grand plaza, walked a distance to a locally known restaurant where I had a tamal and a panucha, went and got an expresso at a very cute cafe, and then came back to the plaza to dance a bit to some Norteña (they had set up a huge stage and speakers)... it was packed. I wished Kasey had been there to see the festival and the band.... I wanted to dance with him. Although still recovering from the cold, for the first time in a few days I felt pretty happy. Marianela is very nice and reminds me of Veronica, a good friend in Veracruz who I also plan to visit.

Paseo de Montejo, Anthropology Museum

Marianela and I

Mérida en Domingo

Mérida en Domingo

Paseo de Montejo

After such a nice time with fellow couchsurfers, I decided it was time to try the actual couch surfing thing... as in, staying at a local´s house. I met up with a different couchsurfer, a local girl named Jael, the following day. She introduced me to a good friend of her´s named Javier, who is also a couchsurfer and welcomes foreigners into his home. He offered to let me stay at his place, where his mom, dad, and brother also live, and after spending the next couple hours with him and his friends, I agreed. You know when you meet someone who has a very kind heart and genuine intentions... Javier radiates that energy. That night I met a handful of other couchsurfers from New Zealand, Italy, and Spain and we walked around the city, with Javier and Jael as our personal guides, and finally got dinner.

Upon arrival to Javier´s house, he made me feel right at home. He showed me the kitchen and where I could find all of the things I needed, including food. He showed me the shower, bathroom, and finally the mattress on the floor where I would be sleeping. He gave me a key to the house and told me I could come and go as I pleased. Oh, and unlimited internet access, too. Needless to say, I´ve been much happier here than I was at the hostel.

The following day, having finally recovered from my cold, I took a bus to Cuzamá, a town about an hour and a half away, to visit 3 cenotes (water holes in the ground) with 3 fellow couchsurfers: José (Spain), Sandro (Italy), and Dene (Netherlands). It was great. Cool, crystal clear, aquamarine waters. The cenotes are beneath the ground, practically in caves. You have to decend steep steps (or, in one case, a ladder) to get there. There is just enough sunlight to see the clarity of the water, which is extremely deep in most parts, but you can still see the bottom. When we got off the bus, we book a bicycle (a guy rode us, we sat on a seat attached to the front), then we were pulled by a horse in a flimsy carriage attached to train tracks to the cenote sites, which are in the middle of the forest. Very interesting mode of transportation. After the cenotes I broke out in yet another strange allergic reaction on my right hand, arm, and feet, which took about a day to disappear.

On the way to the cenotes

Dene jumping in at Cenote2

Cenote3

Me in Cenote1

The following day I went to Dzibilchaltún, mayan ruins that are about 20 minutes North of Mérida. It was very small, but very quiet and empty. I find it amazing to imagine what it was like for these people. Not only how horrible it must have been when the Spanish came and conquiered their civilization, essentially tried to erase their culture, but also how their day to day lives were. For them, everything had a meaning. Everything had a spirit, not just people and animals. They were so in tune with their surroundings.

I also swam in the cenote that was on the site. This one was different from the others, as it was not underground.

Dzibilchaltún astronomical observatory... I´m on the steps

Dzibilchaltún cenote

The next day I caught a bus to a town called Izamal, which is about 2 hours Northwest of Mérida. Everyone had told me I should see it. The whole town is painted mustard yellow and is famous for the large church, built in the 1500s, in the center of the town on top of a mayan structure. It´s built from stone. The front is mustard yellow, but the back is gray, looks like a mideivil (sp) castle. The place is very ornate. Although asthetically pleasing, I couldn´t help but sense an ugliness beneath the beauty... the wrath of a tyrant. Poor Mayans.

Izamál, back of church

Izamál, front of church

Today I plan to relax... it´s pretty cloudy and rainy outside, so it seems like a perfect day for it. Tonight Marianela has a little exposition at a place called Café Chocolate; she is a clothes designer and will be showing off her creations, along with other vendors in the area. I may go to that, along with other couchsurfers... we´ll see. Tomorrow I´m not sure what I´ll do either, although tomorrow night I plan to make dinner for this family that has been so kind to welcome me into their home. Stuffed eggplant parmesian... yummm. Sunday I plan to do the Ruta Puuc, or the Puuc Route, which is a road that takes you to 4 sites with Mayan ruins, including the famous Uxmal.

On Monday I will leave and begin to follow the path I´ve mapped out for myself:

The final stopping point on the map is Tuxtla Gutierrez, where I´ll meet up with Kasey in late April. From there we will travel more or less the following route:

In all of the places I visit, I´ve been making an effort to stay present in the moment and not let my mind wander to outside worries; soak up all the sights, smells, and feelings. Just really be aware. The people. The houses. The random smells in the air, most of which I recognize from prior trips to Mexico but cannot identify. I see so many people, so many lives, everywhere I go. It´s almost mind boggling to think that each of these people, which I glance at for only a fleeting moment, have their own life, their own story, their own worries, their own joys. SO many people. Not only here, but in all parts of the world. And everyone is just trying to get by, just trying to achieve happiness. In essence, we are all the same.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it:

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

Until next time...