Two women about to get a massage in Playa Del Carmen:
“Mary, Mary, wait, I need to use the bathroom! How do you say ‘bathroom’ in Spanish?”
“Bathroomo? Oh no, wait. That’s Spanglish.”
Mark is playing with another gringo kid at the plaza. The mother keeps on calling “Hugo, Hugo!”
“Hugo?” I comment. “That’s a nice name.”
“What? Oh, Hugo is the chihuahua! My son’s name is ‘Sol’.”
I am giving Mark a banana on the beach when a woman comes close to us. She is a tourist as well, probably in her early sixties. I assume she wants to say “hi” to Mark or ask us something.
“Excuse me… I couldn’t help noticing you. Your hair. The way you move.”
At this point, I still think she is talking about Mark (language barrier?).
“My husband has been watching you for an hour. He says you are very sexy and he is right. There is something about you. Where are you from? Mexico?”
Awkwardest conversation ever. And nope, we didn’t follow up with a threesome or anything. And for the record, I wasn’t sunbathing topless, I was running after a toddler the entire morning!
We decided to spend the last few days in Playa Del Carmen, after a last stop in Tulum where the weather was great. Playa isn’t our favourite place but we had a quiet and cheap hotel and the city is fairly compact so we could go to the beach easily (in Cancun, you have to drive from the city centre).
Playa is a nice place to start a trip because everything is made for tourists. However, it gets on your nerve when you end your trip there and when you are familiar enough with Mexico because it’s very gringo-ish. We spent most of the time at the beach and walking around the non-touristic part of the city, where there is vida normale (i.e. no white people wasted at 10 a.m.).
As I am writing this, I am sweaty and hot. Tomorrow, I’ll be frozen. I am not looking forward to it.
I didn’t want to come back. I still don’t. And this is not a case of “wow, I wish I could spend a few more days under the sun”. I am terrified of going back because I still don’t have a solution for Mark, for us, for me. I left burned-out. I am felling much better but I am scared to fall into the same trap, going through the day hoping that it will finally end, filling the hours with Mark, walking around aimlessly and fitting work assignments between diaper changes.
I just can’t go back to the same routine because it was killing me.
Here, I feel free. I can walk wherever I want (no need to drive), I can go out with Mark and I enjoy my surroundings because it’s new and fresh.
I am bored in Ottawa.
I can’t think about it too much otherwise I won’t board that damn plane.
You can see the full set of Estación México on Flickr.