Migracion de las Mariposas

Everywhere we have gone in the last week, butterflies have been streaming through the air, across cars, ruins, fields, they all seem to be going somewhere...but we don't know where.

Julie and I left Merida (gracias a dios) which is a relief because although the town was super cool, it was also super overwhelming. The Nomadas hostel was like a European Real World; all these blonde girls trying to impress long haired boys smoking cigarettes, with Julie and I as the sullen brunette lesbians glaring at everyone from the corner. So we moved to the Hotel Trinidad Galleria just up the street, which had a pool and claims to be devoted completely to art. It was awesome because the whole place is filled with bad art, scary and weird paintings, sculptures and installations. The room however, had no ventilation and I was laid up with my stomach bug sickness and not in the mood for a smelly stuffy room.

I did rally in the early afternoon and force myself to go out and explore the city some and visit the mercao where the locals shop and that was amazing. There were entire sections devoted to fruits, shoes, spices, fish, kitchen ware--everything! I bought 10 warm tortillas, fresh off the press, for one peso (about ten cents). The spices vendors were the coolest because there was giant bags and bowls filled with cayenne and cumin, it was beautiful and the smell was overpowering. I purchased a small knife while is of excellent quality for about $4 dollars. The guy quoted me the price and then his coworkers got mad at him for giving me the locals price instead of the gringa price but he didn't take it back. I hope I can get that little beauty back into the U.S. I got lost and walked in circles for a while, but when I did finally get back I chilled at the pool with a German family (all the men and boys clad in speedos).

Merida reminded me of New York because at first all the hustle and bustle felt exciting and invigorating and then eventually it wore me down and I wanted to cry. And cry I did, in the evening, in my hot stuffy room, because my stomach still hurt and I hadn´t gotten enough sleep and people kept hassling me on the street. I really don´t like people trying to hustle me and there was a lot of that going on in Merida. Basically, anywhere touristy there are many people trying to aggressively sell things and I don't like being bombarded by accosting strangers. However, I'm sure they don't like being poor, so I try to have perspective. Julie and I happily left Merida behind and traveled West to Chitchen Itza. Along the way, she told me a wonderful story about a silky weasel who was the keeper of time for a village and lived in a bell tower.

My big idea that I have been looking forward to the whole trip, was for us to stay in a really nice fancy hotel and live it up at the ruins on our final day together. We found a nice place in the town of Piste, just 1km away from the ruins with a big pool and muchos animales running around, including the tiniest kittens I had ever seen. Like more of the animals here, I think they were malnourished, which was sad.

We went to a Mexican all you can eat buffet because it was across the street from our hotel and really went crazy with the rice and beans. Just kidding, I don't think it's possible for us to get too worked up about our staple foods at this point, but it was quite an experience. Julie said she felt like she was on a cruise. We have been traveling on the same schedule as European tourists and vacationing Mexican families and nowhere was that more apparent than at Chitchen Itza.

After dinner, we walked to the ruins to see the light and sound show which was mostly lost on me because it didn't occur to me to rent the simultaneously translation device. However, sitting out under the stars, staring at the big pyramid, with the full moon in the background was awesome and glorious and worth standing in two long lines with children pushing and shoving into us. On the walk home we saw giant tarantulas on the side of the road, which made me scream and run, and caused European men to become concerned. However, Julie was really into them and keep pointing them out when she found another one.

I requested a wake up call from the front desk so we could get to the ruins when they opened at 8am this morning to beat the crowds, but our call never came. We got there by 8:30am anyway, and it was good to be there early because the masses started swarming in with interest by 11am. The ruins were awesome by daylight too, and it maked me laugh (but it also makes me mad because the theory is racist), that there are signs at the entry of each of the ruins saying "The Maya were not helped by extraterrestrials". We beat it out of there after a few hours to get back to the hotel and have one final swim before check out. Our hotel, the Pirimidie Inn, is also home to the Explorers Club of Mexico and houses an insane photo display from the original archaeological digs from the 1970s. The folks in the pictures reminded me of characters from a Wes Anderson movie.

Julie and I dined together on refried beans and rice for the last time and it was a bittersweet luncheon. I was sad to leave her in Piste, with her going south to Chiapas, knowing that we won't see each other for another 2 weeks. Sadder still, because my bus to Cancun was so crowded I had to stand. Luckily, I stood in the right spot, and got a seat pretty quickly. However, it was the 2nd class bus because the first class bus didn't leave until 4pm and was like the slow boat to hell. There was no air conditioning or bad movies or Julie to distract me. Just the grit of the dusty road coating us as more and more people, desperate for air, struggled to open the sticky windows.

After what felt like an interminable amount of time, (in reality it was 4.5 hours), I finally arrived in Cancun and then had to find a hotel without the aid of my fearless and faithful Foolie. The hotel I was looking for was literally across the street, however, one taxi driver told me it was four blocks in the wrong direction and another told me he knew where it was and that he would take me there for $130 pesos (note: usually taxi rides have been $15 pesos). "Are you joking?" I asked him but he had already turned away.

So I walked around with my pink sweaty face and giant bag and got harassed by many people wanting me to stay at their hotel or dine in their eating establishments. I went to a couple budget places but then decided to go big and go to the place across from the bus terminal, which would have been quite easy to find if I had written the name down correctly. I scrawled it down badly and thought it was Grand Playa Caribe when it's Grand Plaza Caribe. I just didn't think it could be the place across from the bus station because it's my policy not to stay in places across from bus stations. Usually they are gross and seedy, but this place isn't. It's nice and has a pool and cost five times what I usually pay. But I don't care, because I'm stuck in Cancun where I don't want to be, without Foolie, and can't leave until tomorrow.

Anyway, for those of you who have expressed enjoyment from reading my blog, fear not. The fun won't end with this final Mexico post. Most of you already know that my regular life is weird and wacky too, so I will continue to blog when I get back to S.F. Wish me luck on my nine hour plane ride(s) tomorrow and that everything arrives and departs on time.