No Room at the Inn

Today Julie and I were like Mary and Joseph on Christmas Eve, searching high and low for a private room at the various hotels and hostels we had read about in Merida. Sadly, there was nothing available, and our manger is the girls dormitory at the Nomadas Hostel. We have bunk beds next to each other but we both have the top bunk--bogus. This sad turn of events made me have my first and only complete flip out on the trip (luckily it was a silent turn of events, between me and my journal) where I wanted to come home. Its funny because what I really wanted to do was shut the door and be able to lie down (without having to climb up). However, once I took a shower and had dinner at a vegetarian restaurant (aw, yeah! we are on a roll with those), I was fine.

The hostel is perfect for us actually, because they have tons of information here about how to get to all the various ruins and cenotes in the area. I could even book a flight to Cuba out of Cancun if I wanted to, and you know I am tempted! I have been assuming on the trip that most of the whiteys I see are Americans and that has proven patently wrong time and time again. There are tons of Germans, Brits and people with guide books which spell Mexico with a "k". Its fun to be in a place with so many young people, because the last few places have been more refined hotel type situations. Perhaps I am just feeling rambunctious after another long bus ride, or maybe it´s the closer proximity to Cancun, but Merida feels like a party city.

It´s dirter and a lot more touristy than Campeche and Julie and I both felt a little shell shocked by the amount of traffic, both automobile and pedestrian, while walking around. So far, the most notable thing is that the churches here have the biggest statues of crucifixes I have ever seen. The first church I went in to had a 30 ft Jesus over the alter, and that wasn´t even counting the cross. I would have come up to Jesus´knee on that thing. It was a really gaunt and suffering Jesus too, so the overall effect was terrifying. In Campeche the big church was hella pagan, with alters to all the different Mary sightings all over the world. Here, its just big scarey Jesus time.

There were pictures of drag queens in a human rights magazine I found at the restaurant we went to, so we feel hopeful about finding a gay bar in this town. I have seen a few gay looking men peering at Julie curiously on the street, but you never know what that means. It´s either going to be a gay bar or the club that claims to play rock and pop. The good news is that Mexican teen-agers seem to love Justin Timberlake as much as I do, so Julie and I are going to try to get our sexy on. Tomorrow is uncertain, except for the fact that we are going to try to move to a hotel down the block with a pool and live it up a bit more for our last few days in Mexico.