Over the course of the summer I decided to embark on a challenging path with the end goal of quitting smoking. I asked my ex-smoking friends on Facebook how they managed to quit nicotine for good and received a lot of standard solutions – may of which I have tried in the past. There was one suggestion that stood out – something I had not tried. One of my friends suggested Ayahuasca ceremonies and working with a shaman.
I have long known my smoking habit was more than a physical addiction. A previous Ayahuasca ceremony had taught me my smoking and the physical weight I had carried for eight years were unconscious shields I used to separate me from intimacy. I have been aware of my commitment phobic tendencies for a long time – but I had always blamed bad dating experiences or my own pickiness for that isolation. It hadn’t really occurred to me to look much further back.
I realized the only way to truly conquer that formidable obstacle was to dredge up all the subconscious emotional crap wrapped around smoking and finally lay those demons to rest.
At first the process seemed easy but then as time progressed I discovered there was more crap behind the crap. It was like peeling rotten layers off an onion and discovering more layers of rot behind it. Each emerging issue seemed to be connected to another issue behind it. I discovered so many of my adult issues started at the same root. That root was the moment in my life where I was placed in a foster home as a three year old.
I barely remember the foster home other than a twelve year old girl named Theresa who used to always hit me, a dog named Sadie whom I liked to feed, Sesame Street, and lots of reading and colouring. My little brother was there as well – but I oddly have few recollections of interacting with him during that time period. Although we lived in the same place it was like we lived in separate worlds. That separate world dynamic also continued to his eventual death.
When I look back on that period with adult eyes I can only imagine how terrified and confused three year old me felt in my first days in the home. At that age my mother would have been the center of my universe. My one true love. The source of my survival and soother of my insecurities. She was my everything and suddenly she was gone – and I didn’t understand why. I can only imagine how I must have cried for her return – completely unequipped for processing her disappearance.
Back in those days smoking was commonly done indoors with no concern about second hand smoke. The smell of smoke coming under my bedroom door may have been soothing – giving me the illusion that my mom may be near. To this day smoking still has a soothing aspect to it.
I was five years old when my mother regained custody of me. Mom said I was afraid and resistant when she came to pick me up. I cried and shied away from her. Our bond had been broken and I was distrustful of her. From that point on – until her death we had a complicated often estranged relationship.
My mom never told me the whole story about why I ended up in the foster home. The only thing she said was my fathers mother lied to the judge by saying my mom had a prescription drug problem. She made it sound like it was some great injustice that had no foundation – yet by my teens I was very aware that she had a problem with prescription drugs. She mixed them with alcohol and it frequently contributed to our stormy relationship.
So how on earth did our lives gain the attention of the courts to begin with? What triggered this intervention?
I was too young for true critical thinking at the time I asked Mom about the foster home so I took her explanation at face value, never pried for more details, and simply filed what little I knew as an inconsequential part of my life story. I had no idea how it was impacting me and setting a tone for my life. Now that all the characters of that story are dead I find myself as a middle aged woman questioning the story and trying to connect the dots between what I witnessed and the snipppets of stories I remember from my mother.
One day while working with an amazing shaman, Angela Prider, a story finally came together….
I remember one day as a small child visiting my mom in the hospital. I can still see in my minds eye the white leather shoes I wore. They had bells on them and I was fascinated by the way they jingled when I ran. My mother usually made me wear them as a means of keeping track of where I had disappeared to – as I guess I often did. Everything looked so large. The bed my mom was laying in loomed high over my head. When I was lifted up to see her I remember being confused about the bandages on her hand. Later in life she told me she had had surgery on her hand. For the rest of her life she was unable to bend one of her fingers. The tendon in it had been severed and beyond repair.
Here’s the story behind the surgery:
My father has talked her into doing LSD. At some point in her trip she looked at my little brother in his crib and hallucinated that his skin was gone. He was just veins, tendons, and muscles. This vision freaked her out so bad she clenched the glass in her hand to the point of breaking – thus slicing her hand in many places.
Obviously this event required a trip to the emergency unit at the hospital – and outsiders have to be called into the situation. One of two things must have happened. Either my grandmother was called to care for my brother and I while my parents went to ER to deal with my mothers severely cut hand or the two of us were packed up and brought to the hospital with them. I suspect the latter scenario happened. Regardless of which scenario happened my parents were ultimately exposed as people who did serious drugs in the presence of their children – therefore unfit. The hospital would have been morally and legally bound to alert the authorities.
This also where my mothers pharmaceutical addiction started. This is probably where she discovered pain killers as an escape from not only physical pain – but also the deep emotional pain that forever ran in the background of her consciousness.
Even when Mom physically returned to my life, her frequent escapes from her constant pain prevented her from providing the unwavering presence needed by the little humans she was raising.
Hurt people hurt other people.
I myself was filled with subconscious pain running in the background of my mind. Kind of like a computer virus running in the background of my cerebral CPU. On the surface I seemed normal – even somewhat successful in many areas of my life but underneath that surface was a subtle disconnect from others that prevented me from connecting deeply with others in the same way a normally functioning person might. Yes that disconnect has hurt people I love in the past.
I decided I didn’t want to be this way anymore. The most powerful transformations seem to happen when I travel with intention so I have decided to do another soul pilgrimage. My destination: The ancient Mayan city of Palenque in the state of Chiapis, Mexico. My plan was to find a shaman, do a peyote ceremony, and symbolically leave my pain in the jungle.
In 2007 I was heartbroken and feeling betrayed in the wake of an emotionally intense – but mostly cyber relationship. Around the 4 or 5 month mark, I sensed that he was trolling the internet for someone new – but I ignored my intuition and took his words at face value. The relationship continued in denial for about a month. When I later found out there may have been some truth to my gut feelings I impulsively bought a last minute ticket to Scotland. The ticket was only $550 return -taxes in. I had never thought of going to Scotland but there was something wildly romantic about the notion of screaming my frustration out on the windswept moors on the other side of the planet. Well the screaming on the moors thing didn’t happen – but I did cry a lot.
I ended up in Oban as a result of a coin toss and decided to carry on to the Isle of Skye. Thanks to insanely cheap absynthe, my bad decision to drink whatever the drinking dice dictated, and an illegal Shakira move on the dance floor, I badly injured my knee on the first night. This left me stuck in Oban against any smidgen of a plan I may have had.
While stuck in Oban I discovered the island of Iona was a short journey away. I had studied the island briefly in high school western civilization course. It was culturally significant because that was where a group of Benedictine monks wrote the book of Kells – which essentially saved Christianity by the skin of it’s teeth.
I loved the feel of the little island. It was so tranquil and feminine. It was there that I got the wild idea that I was going to marry myself in the ruins of an 800 yr old nunnery…
At the time the marriage seemed strictly symbolic. It wasn’t until seven years had passed and the man returned to my life that I was prompted to look back to find out where we had gone wrong. It was then that I noticed in the seven years that had passed there was a connection between that fateful day, the ring that I still wore, and the realization that my heart had been closed for all that time (despite a 4.5 year attempt at a relationship with a childhood sweetheart.) I realized the ring had become like a talisman of heartache and emotional defense. .. A shield against vulnerability. It had to come off – but it wasn’t as simple as merely removing it and sticking it in the jewelry box. I decided it had to come off with the same intensity of emotion and ritual in which it was put on. I knew it was time to take it off as it seemed to be catching on everything – making it’s presence known on a regular basis…I felt like Gollum from The Hobbit. It was “my precioussss…”.
Shortly after I made the decision to remove the ring I stumbled across a incredibly cheap last minute ticket to Cancun, Mexico. Just like Scotland, I had never felt any real pull to Mexico. I saw it as one of those places everybody else went to – so I would visit it later in life when I had finished seeing the places that were more exotic and less overrun by tourism….However fate always deals me unexpected cards – and cheap flights – so I had to heed what must have been another prompt from destiny…
For the first week in Mexico I struggled to find the right place and the adequate privacy for the ritualistic casting of the ring. Nothing seemed right about the time or place – and the words I wanted to say eluded me.
As it did in Scotland, everything came together on the last day… I had returned to Isla Mujeres and on the recommendation of several people I rented a golf cart to drive around the tiny island. I remembered reading about a fairly unimpressive set of ruins on the south point of the island so thought I’d check them out – and hopefully it would be a good place to do my ritual. It was my last day so either way the ritual had to be done.
In the end it turned out that there couldn’t have been a better place – and looking back I found many parallels between Punta Sur on the tiny feminine island of Isla Mujeres (Island of Women) and the nunnery on the tiny feminine island of Iona in Scotland. Both spiritually significant places. Both dedicated to the feminine. Both on tiny Islands. Both connected to the Atlantic — though opposite sides. Scotland was where golf was invented. I got to Punt Sur riding a golf cart. LOL
As I neared the archeological site I noticed a rainbow in the sky. It seemed odd to see a rainbow in such a blue sky in the complete absence of rain. The significance will be explained later. Here is the picture though:
It was bright and sunny when I passed through the ticket booth to walk the short path to the ruins. Nobody was visible so I began to make up my ritual as I walked the path to the ruins…
The path to Punta Sur, Isla Mujeres
With every step I said an affirmation. Some of the things I said were:
I believe in true love.
I believe my soul mate is near.
My life alone is almost over
I release all old lovers.
I release all pain and fear.
As I neared the ruins seemed to suddenly clouds rise up to obscure the sun. Here is a pic of the sudden change of lighting. (This is more significant looking back than it was at the moment.)
I had to pause my ritual briefly when I reached the ruins to find a couple taking pics on the ruins. I spoke to them briefly and exchanged cameras to have our pictures taken on the ruins before they wandered off and away. I now had the ruins to myself.
The ruins were quite diminutive. All that remained was three crumbling walls belonging to a building hardly bigger than a shed – but its location on the most southern point of the island was breath taking. This place was the where the Atantic Ocean and Caribbean Sea met…The first part of Mexico to feel the morning sun. I later learned this site is dedicated to the Mayan moon goddess Ixchel- who is known as the lady of rainbows, the protector of female fertility, and the healer.
I had previously written my relationship fears on a piece of paper and decided to burn those fears in the shelter of the ruins walls. As they were burning the paper I kept saying over and over, “These fears are no longer true. These fears are no longer true.
When I was down to a small shard of paper I noticed a hole in the ground and decided to drop the last bit of paper into the hole rather than burning my fingers. As I attempted to do so a gust of wind blew up from the hole and almost blew the ashes into my eyes. I found it startling and eerie…
This is what was rising up in the sky as I was burning my fears:
After burning my fears I took some pictures of the spot then moved to the dramatic point of the island in front of the ruins and began my incantation for the most important part of my ritual..
Staring down at the boiling sea below me I said aloud:
“I am ready to open my heart…to give and receive love to it’s fullest. Sheilds and walls no longer serve me. (This is where I started uncontrollably sobbing and cast the ring into the water below) The man of my dreams is close. I believe in true love”
This is where I cast the ring:
Once my heart opening incantation was complete, I took a few pictures and walked away being careful not to look back. As I walked away I said more affirmations such as:
” I am walking towards my love. I am walking towards my new life. I believe in true love. My soul mate is looking for me – and we shall see each other soon…)
When I returned home and viewed the pictures I had taken after burning my fears I noticed the camera had picked up some strange phenomena that was not visible to my naked eye. I will post in order of how I took them.
In the first picture you can see two large red “smudges”..
In the second picture you can see the red smudges have moved a bit – but the strangest thing is the dark blue smudge and the small but bright blue cross in the bottom left… What is THAT?
Then it gets crazier. I moved away from the ruins and down a small embankment. You can see the blue smudge and the cross have risen into the sky half way up the right side:
I am not sure what happened there – but something has changed in me on a very deep level. In the first week and a half after this I lost 15lbs of stubborn weight. I realize I had began to battle weight after marrying myself in Scotland. Since that ritual in Mexico I have lost a total of 25lbs (two full dress sizes) in only two months – without trying. Perhaps the weight and the ring had been working together to shield me? I am now no longer invisible to men who pass on the street. My creativity is beginning to return – and I have lost my desire to over consume alcohol….
My trip to Mexico was dogged with delays and snafus. I nearly missed my boarding call, the plane had some minor technical issues, my gate spontaneously changed in Houston and that connector plane waited half an hour for a take-off lane assignment.
As I was almost out of the Cancun airport I was intercepted by Raphael the timeshare guy. Within minutes of the greeting he had expertly locked into my naivety and began enticing me with promises of a nice buffet and a cheap rental car. I hadn’t seen the Mexican traffic outside the airport yet – so reluctantly gave him the $50 deposit and agreed to meet him in two days on the Cancun side of the ferry. He tried to steer me towards a $17 shuttle to the Isla Mujeres ferry but I luckily had a little pre-smart in me to take a $10 ADO bus downtown and a $3 taxi ride to the ferry – for a grand savings of $4. (I have since learned how to better haggle with taxi drivers).
Isla Mujeres is a tiny island off of Cancun. It was dark when I arrived and I had some difficulty finding the hotel I had made reservations at. I asked people on the street for directions to the Xula-Ha and was told it was a white building with no sign – because it is undergoing renovations. After retracing my footsteps, I did find a white hotel that didn’t appear to have a sign so I knocked on the door of what seemed to be a darkened office.
Lucy didn’t speak English – and apparently didn’t know what confirmation email from Xula-Ha said as it was written in English. After some confused communication in our respective languages she handed me a key and towel. When I woke up this morning I discovered I was staying at the Carmelina – rather than the Xula-ha. Oh well. It was $10/night cheaper so I stayed – despite the teeny ant invasion.
Wrong hotel and ant invasion aside, I had a good first night on Isla Mujeres. As my dumb travel luck would have it, my quest for a drink actually lead me to one of the more popular bars among the locals. It was called Kokonuts and played great dance music with weird videos. After an hour of journaling I was joined by a friendly frequent visitor named Keith who described himself as a catering VP who constantly loses his phone, and grew up as the only gay white boy in a small native American town in Dakota. He was funny and fun so we chatted until the end of the night.
I also met a retired ex-Pat named George who was clearly a nightly visitor to the bar. He and Keith were fans of Rosario the middle-aged waitress who didn’t have much to say – but she did clap her hands and danced around a lot. Towards the end of the night I met a super drunk Columbian guy who had a golf cart – but couldn’t find a place to stay. He wanted to sleep on my floor but I told him that was not a good idea. Lucky Mexico is warm at night and the island is safe. Finally at about 4am my new friend Ben who played in a reggae band walked me to my hotel. He asked for a kiss outside the building and was surprised that I would say no. I have since learned in Mexican culture agreeing to an escort home is pretty much sexual consent. Who would have thunk?
Today was my first full day on the island and it was certainly interesting. The hospital caught fire this morning and it took about 20 minutes to get water to the blaze. I was about half-way through breakfast when I finally saw about 15 marines running past me with 3 shovels, 3 picks, 5 portable fire extinguishers, and a length of hose. The water tanker came from a different direction. I wonder why it took so long for the “fire crew” to arrive considering the island is only 650 meters wide and 7 km long. I guess they must have had to fill up the water tanker first. Note to self: Do not get hurt here.
North Beach was stunning. It was my first experience on sugar sand and turquoise waters.
Realizing my hair was a rats nest from wind and hard water with no pressure I went searching for a place to buy comb or brush since I thought I had left mine at home. This ended up turning into an epic quest – which left me wondering how these islanders cope with their hair when nobody knows where to buy a brush – not even the local hairdresser. I realize I really do need to get up to speed with my Spanish and improve my charade skills. There is probably a shit tonne of brushes being sold somewhere but nobody knows what I am asking for.
I finally found a small comb after wandering the streets for close to two hours and retired to my hotel room to attack my Medusa head. That’s where I finally found my comb – in my purse the whole time (forehead slap). After dealing with my hair I found myself feeling a bit heat exhausted so I laid down for a siesta. When I awoke all the nice sun was replaced by heavy rain, flooding, and strong tropical winds. I was stoked for the idea of a hurricane – but apparently that was normal wind and rain for there.
Once the rains abated I found myself heading back to Ave Miguel Hidalgo – the restaurant and gift shop strip. I have been connecting a few times a day with this lovely and incredibly handsome man named Julio who works in a jewelery store on the corner I pass all the time. For some reason I feel so comfortable that I told him about my mission to ceremoniously toss my ring into the ocean to open my heart to love at some point while in Mexico. He said he wanted to meet me for a drink after he got off work but in the end stood me up.
My first stop on the strip was a place called Q-Bar where I ended up connecting with Raul. He was such a nice guy and after he got off work we decided to go to the nightly party on the beach at the Poc’Na hostel. The party wasn’t happening because of the weather so we ended up having drinks at Kokonuts. He offered to walk me home – but since he had earlier explained what accepting the invitation means I decided to stay at Kokonuts for a bit longer to chat with ex-pat George and reggae band Ben. There were a few other folks and a bong involved leading to another 4am bedtime…
Nov 19 – The Time Share Adventure
Raphael met me at the ferry on the Cancun side as promised and set me up with a taxi that took me almost to the Grand Mayan private resort. It was about half way between Cancun and Playa Del Carmen. By now I am firmly against the notion that I can possibly pull off driving in Mexico without being a moving policia target – and am a little afraid of what everyone else is doing wrong that may get me smashed. I really didn’t have much motivation to sit through a high pressure timeshare thing – aside from wanting my $50 back. However it was raining so it wasn’t like I would do much anyways – other than figure out what town I wanted to sleep in. The agreed 90 minute presentation turned into a 3.5 hr grind where I repeatedly assured them they were wasting their time with me. I am a backpacker who doesn’t even own property back home. Why would I want to spend $68, 000 (if I had it) on a place I can only spend a week end.They argued that it would be good for 100 yrs and I could pass it on to my children. I assured them that at my age children weren’t happening. Eventually i had to get tough with the sales manager adn tell him he needed to let me go because it was going to be dark soon and I needed to work out where I was sleeping tonight. This somehow offended him and he left without returning. The first salesman went looking for him and cam back telling me the offer of driving me to “my hotel” had been downgraded to me walking to the highway and catching a collectivo – basically the little locals bus. Lucky for me there was one more salesman to work me and he didnt know I had pissed off the middle one. so the taxi thing was back on. Normally they drive people to Playa Del Carmen or Cancun but I made them drive me to Tulum. So basically it was SO LONG SUCKAS – and thanks for the free buffet and ride from Cancun to Tulum. I felt bad for the taxi driver for having to do the long drive and be late for dinner so i tipped him 200 pesos though ($16).
Le Jardins De Frida hostel and Cantina
This place is a wonderful gem of a place. The decor is eclectic and creative. The staff is incredibly sweet. The dorm room walls are painted like a jungle and the bathroom walls are covered in painted fish. The only other inhabitants of my dorm are two lovey women, Amy and Ellie. The atmosphere is so trusting that Ellies iPad is sitting on a night table unguarded. Eventually we all ended up in the cantina that is attached to the hostel.
The dorm:
The cantina:
Isreal mixing up the pulque
The cantinas bartenders Isreal and Joaquin were eager to share the unique tastes of Mexico with us. We discovered fried worms and crickets. I am not a fan of the worms – but the crickets are not so bad. They also introduced us to a traditional drink called pulque – which is a white fermented alcohol. They said it was the first distill. Isreal is a cocktail wizard. He had decanters of amazing infusion on the bar ranging from concoctions containing hibiscus, lemon grass, cinnamon, or chilies. All juices were pressed before our eyes. It would take him 10 minutes to make a drink – but it would taste so amazing it would be sucked back in less than 5 minutes…Another late night…
Nov 20 – The Grand Cenote
Amy and I went to the Grand Cenote for a swim today. It was small but pretty – and very relaxing. Amy heads back to New Zealand today – which is a little saddening as I would have liked to spend more time with her. Its interesting how quickly some travelers form connections deeper than they would at home.
There are a few new additions to the dorm tonight. An older gentleman named Tom. He doesn’t seem to want to interact and definitely didn’t like the initial discovery that he was the only man in the dorm. I don’t feel he is gay – but he doesn’t seem to like women too much. Eventually another guy showed up for the night and he seemed relaxed around him for a bit – but then he retired to bed and fell asleep early. Ellie says he told her he was just in a harrowing ship wreck – so that may explain his exhaustion and some of his introverted behavior. There was also three other girls that joined us in the dorm. I saw them check in wanting a private room – but the cost of a private room was beyond their budget. One was from Australia and the other two were from Vancouver. They also seemed to want to stay distant – even though one was well traveled and we shared some of the same previous experiences . I wasn’t totally surprised about the Vancouver native girls distance. Vancouver natives seem to be just as insular on the road as they are at home.
Ellie and I ended up in the cantina again with a guy named Jose who seemed to be local. Another fun time was had…more pulque, weird appetizers, great cocktail concoctions …and another late night..
The Idol:
In the early 90’s someone, whom I have forgotten gave me a small carved figurine. He said he got it from a guy somewhere in Mexico who said it was a burial idol. I never knew if it was authentic or a replica nor did I know if it was good luck or bad luck – but I have kept it all these years.
When I told a psychic friend I was going to Mexico she was concerned about me picking up negative energies so I decided to bring a piece of tourmaline with me to keep me grounded. While looking for the tourmaline I came across the idol and decided to take it with me. Perhaps it wanted to go home? I tried researching it online to see if it was Mayan – but came up short on information. Tonight I decided to pull the idol out and show it to a Mexican. Jovana was working the desk at my hostel. She wasn’t familiar with the style but as my dumb travel luck would have it her boyfriend just happened to be an archaeologist! It seems there is almost always an archaeologist or shaman in my mystical journeys. I am no longer surprised.
About 20 minutes after Jovana sent him a picture Dante the archaeologist was at the hostel with the carving in his hand. He said it had a patina that suggested it was old but without knowing where exactly it came from he was lost as to what it was. The only thing he knew for sure is that the stone it was carved with is only found in Honduras. We searched the internet for awhile to see if we could find a similar art but the closest we could find was a large Toltec statue. Dante said the existence of the Toltecs are an archaeological debate as to whether that race actually existed. He sent me an article about the use of jade in ancient mesoamerican culture and from what I gather from the article it was considered a very precious stone worn by aristocracy – and buried with aristocracy. The article concluded: “In part, the relation-ship of jade to the ancient past concerns the tough and durable nature of this stone, which allows objects to be used and reused for hundreds of years as heirlooms and material testimony to past events (Joyce 2000:13–15). However, jade also symbolized the immaterial breath essence of the soul, allowing for ritual contact with otherwise remote gods and ancestors. In Classic Maya thought, jade was a stone of beauty and ancient tradition, a living material that, through heirlooms and rituals of conjuring, linked the living to generations of the dead.”
It seems my little jade friend is still a mystery that may lead me to other countries..
Nov 21 – Coba w/ Cranky John
Today Cranky John and I kind of went to the Coba ruins together. I say kind of because we walked to the Ado (bus) together, walked past the gate together – then separated shortly after. Eventually I hired a trike bike driver to take me to the main temple and ran into him along the way. When we ran into each other at the observatory I taught him how to work his camera – which softened him up a bit, He even invited me to sit with him at a restaurant later. We talked about the ruins and I shared the information I had gleaned from eavesdropping and compared it to my knowledge of what I had learned about other ancient cultures in my travels. I think my intellect and depth was catching him off guard when compared to the apparent bimbo image my new and previously unworn dress was giving me. Even I was disturbed by the amount of cleavage that was being thrown out there due to bust line slidage..
About Coba Itself:
Visually, Coba was nothing compared to Machupichus setting and couldn’t hold a candle to Angkor Wats detailed and grandiose splendor. If anything the energy there made me nervous in a way I cant explain. I did climb the big pyramid to say I did though. The view was no different from the big tree I climbed in the Peruvian Amazon.
Everything is interesting but so far I don’t feel impressed with Mexico. Its friendly – but there is little culture shock and I have seen far more interesting on an archaeological level. Maybe I have actually seen too much of this planet already? Naw… LOL
Nov 22 – OK. I Have Changed My Mind About Mexico…
Last night was great fun! Allie and I found ourselves back in the cantina again. This time we were joined by our new German room mates, Fabian, Wolfgang, and Laura (who was staying elsewhere). Ado, who worked the front desk also joined us as did Jose (again) and two very fun Mexican guys from Playa Del Carmen – Gerardo and Daniel.
After some drinking and dancing; Allie, Evan, Daniel, Gerardo, and myself ended up at the beach with a big cooler of pulque. There was a big party going on at a restaurant on the beach so we had music to listen to from where we were down on the beach.
Instead of going into the party we decided to go swimming instead. Okay. Maybe I got a little over excited, took of my clothes and ran to the water – – and other people thought it would be a fun idea too. Alcohol does magical things to peoples logic. It was incredible swimming in the warm Caribbean water under a sky full of stars. I almost never see stars anymore living in the city with all the light pollution competing with it. Definitely a highlight of my trip!
I went to the Tulum ruins today. Their ocean side setting was breathtaking – but the energy was disturbing. My heart was racing towards the end of my exploration. I have wanted to see these ruins for almost 10 years but I simply couldn’t linger.
Ellie was waiting for me at the nearby public beach so I joined her after my tour.
After a significant search for shade that was free of charge we plopped ourselves down under a canopy belonging to a tour company. Luckily a couple from the states was just finishing their tour and we looked like we were with them when they asked to join us at the last two available seats at our table. They were a lovely couple who eventually drove us to the supermarket so we could catch a cheaper cab from there.
Gerardo and Daniel drove up from Playa Del Carmen (40 min drive) to pick Ellie and I up, bring us back to a party in Playa with the promise to bring us back the next day. Unfortunately they forgot to consult with us before making the trip as Ellie didn’t want to go. I would have liked to have spent more time with Gerardo but stuck with Ellie…So they made the trip for nothing. It was sweet they went through the effort of the drive though. I can’t say too many Canadian men would do that.
Our night ended up being mellow. It was just Ellie, the Germans, and myself hanging out with some beer we bought from the OXO – which is the Mexican equivalent to a 7-11.
Nov 23:
Ellie and I snorkeled Akumal today. It was nice but the water visibility was a bit poor. I have a feeling the cloudiness was because of all the people stirring up the water. I have t hand it to the Mexicans when it comes to their diligent protection of their ecosystem. All sensitive areas were roped off and it required a guide (babysitter) to go outside of the boundaries. Everyone has to wear biodegradable sunscreen in the water.
Gerardo and Daniel came back again tonight. Gerardo for me and Daniel for Ellie. There was a salsa party at one of the beach resorts but the highlight of my evening was making out with Gerardo on the beach. It was like being a teenager in high school again. I don’t think I have ever felt so beautiful in my life. It redefined my view of myself and for the first time I think I have added an actual feeling to add to my list of what I desires in my next relationship. I felt both exhilarated and a little sad at the thought that I may never feel like that again.
Nov 24:
Ellie went back to Colorado today. I went back to Isla Mujeres. My bus stopped in Playa Del Carmen on the way and I was very tempted to get off and find Gerardo. I resisted the temptation because I couldn’t write Spanish so there was no way to message him on Facebook to see if he was free. Instead I played, Almost Lover by Fine Frenzy a couple times an wallowed in the bittersweet feelings he had brought up in me. It was so odd that a man who couldn’t speak English could make me feel like he did…Maybe the language barrier was a part of the recipe for the magic. Maybe I was just starved for attention. Dating in Vancouver sucks. There’s no romance . Mexico seems to ooze romance – even when it is insincere it’s better than being treated like one of the boys.
My first night back on Isla Mujeres was not as expected. There was a lot of general male weirdness. Men who had been so “interested” in me barely wanted to talk to me – except for sweet Julio. I suspected it was because I still hadn’t fulfilled my promise to buy something from his store. He suggested meeting up with me after he finished work – but stood me up. He did however lead me to an expat bar called Nash’s that is owned by a guy from North Vancouver. The bartender was a guy from Colorado named Tim who I thought was a very “awake” soul.
Nov 25
Upon everyone’s suggestion I finally rented a golf cart and drove around the beautiful island of Isla Mujeres. It was a gorgeous ride…And I found the perfect spot to do my heart opening ritual and cast my ring into the Caribbean. That in itself is a long story that deserves it’s own entry.
Upon returning I visited Julio and bought a beautiful silver necklace with a large amethyst in it. It seemed right to buy something to replace the ring. Now I could wear a new talisman to carry the new energy in me. Julio said I looked different since the ritual…
In the evening I found myself back at Nash’s chatting with Tim the bartender. He was so great to talk to. He told me the ruins of Punt Sur were dedicated to the Mayan goddess Ixchel. Apparently the locals still go there to do rituals.
Julio actually showed up for a couple drinks tonight. He confessed the reason he had stood me up was because business had been slow and he didn’t have any commission money. He didn’t want to show up broke. It was so sweet. He looked like he had put in some effort to look and smell good for me. Our visit was on the brief side though as he had arrived late and had to work in the morning. Because the rain had flooded the streets we just stayed at Nash’s and did a walk to the store so I could get smokes. Then he walked me home and we hugged good-bye. I found it interesting that he didn’t attempt to kiss me. Any other Mexican would have – but I think his time living in the states made him a gentleman.
Nov 26
And so ends my stay in Mexico. I left today. Mexico was an incredibly strong power center. It’s energy both turbulent darkness and beautiful magical light. While one side of the country crowded by the thousands to burn effigies of their president in outrage over the murder of 46 students, I was on the other side blissfully bobbing under the stars with a man who made me feel more beautiful than I have felt in many years – if ever. If my travels were to be converted to my own personal Eat, Love, Pray – then Mexico would be the love portion. I fell in love with the people – and I opened my heart to believe in love again.
Serendipity Wanders 