It was quite a production, but somehow me, Mom, our four HUGE bags and two small bags + laptop case all made it through two flights and a layover in Ft. Lauderdale and through Mexican immigration and into a cab and then into our casa in Puerto Morelos.
I’m having a love/hate relationship with Mexico right now.
First, the love.
The green, green, green of it. The flowers everywhere. The bright colored buildings and faded pastel houses and the weather-worn gray shacks against the white sand beaches and the (at least) ten different colors of Caribbean blue seas that I can see from my current vantage point. The Dr. Seuss house being built on our street just makes me smile, as do the nice people who seem to have opened up a brand new restaurant on the sidewalk next to our front gate overnight? The ten million white taxis and the chicken lady at the end of the block. And so much more. It’s not all of Mexico, obviously, that I’m in love with. Mostly just this place nestled between Cancun and Playa del Carmen — away from the bustle of the cities and still grasping onto it’s fishing village roots that holds magic for me and makes my heart sing. It’s the place itself and the many amazing people who make up the community. So many people who have welcomed my Mom and I into their homes and families over the past ten plus years.
The part that I love less about Mexico is the NOISE.
Aye, Dios Mio. (I think that is pirate speak + spanish, but I’m not sure….)
I haven’t been able to sleep a wink since we arrived. Ok, that was an exagerration, but it feels like I haven’t slept a wink.
Here’s the truth about Puerto Morelos, Mexico: IT’S NEVER QUIET.
And it isn’t even high season yet. Which means the bars aren’t blaring out music until 3 a.m. and there’s no music festival going on in the park at the center of town.
No, this is just the background noise of regular life here.
And probably regular life anywhere that people live with all their windows open all the time (which isn’t, FYI, Denver, Colorado).
First it’s the dogs – turns out our neighbors (who used to have a fucking ROOSTER….) now have no less than five dogs. FIVE. And they aren’t allowed to roam the streets, so they spend all their time being jealous of the other dogs who are allowed to roam the street and, consequently, bark out their frustration ALL THE TIME. Either the house next to us is full of deaf Mexicans or they are just immune to the sound of their FIVE dogs barking all the time, because it doesn’t apear to bother them. I never thought I would say this, but I miss the rooster….
So, we’ve got the dogs barking 24/7 and then we’ve got the children. Everybody knows I looooooove children. But. The children around here have to scream to be heard over the dogs, the traffic, the televisions and whatever else. So they are pretty much always screaming. Unless they are crying, and then they are scream-crying. At the top of their lungs. For hours. Which triggers my PTSD from having my own child who scream-cried for hours at a time. Which makes me want to drink. And also kill the children… 🙂
And then there are the trucks that roll through town with crackly loudspeakers blaring out some nonsense (it’s spanish, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even make sense in Spanish because, for one thing, the sound quality is so bad) or honking their horns in some kind of secret code which means either “Hey, I’m the propane truck, if you need propane you better run as fast as you can out to the street and flag me down and even then I might not stop so HA HA, motherfuckers!” or “Hey, I’m the water truck and I’m probably out of water, but I like to watch people run as fast as they can out to the street to see if they can catch me!”
And then there are THE BIRDS. You know how, in tropical displays, like at the Zoo, the birds call out and you’re all “how cool! that is definitely a tropical bird!” Yeah. Multiply that by about 1,000 and that is what it is like on our BLOCK in Puerto Morelos. Those motherfucking birds are loud as fuck. And they only sleep for about 6 hours, maximum. They are relatively quiet from like 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. and then the “singing” begins. You might think that would be quite a shock to hear the tropical birds shrieking at 4 a.m., but it isn’t, on account of the fact that the ROOSTER has been up since 3 a.m….
I’m just saying that there is a LOT of auditory input here and I’m not managing it well, apparently.
(And no, I don’t need your advice about wearing earplugs, doesn’t work for me.)
I’m a bit cranky. (OMG – maybe crankylicious is my new “brand”???) DIBS! COPYWRITE! MAGICAL LEGAL WORDS!
(Mom doesn’t seem as excited about “crankylicious” as I am. Must be the brain tumor interfering with her capacity to understand my awesome humor…?)
And even though I tell everyone that I NEVER get a bad tummy when I’m in Mexico, this time I got a bad tummy right away and it was really screwed with my plans to drink myself into oblivion, or into even a slight level of relaxation. And my Aunt Karen (codename: Tia Karina Maria Sofia Garcia Patron) arrived on Monday to visit and help us settle in and probably not to watch my Mom nap and me alternate between laying on the couch and the floor in the bathroom…. BUT we’ve had some fun in between those bad times and she has been a huge help. Maybe tonight we can all be party girls. Ha. It’s more of an “aim” than an actual “goal”…
The writing is no muy bien. (Does that even make sense?)(It’s not happening, much….)
Mostly because I still can’t figure out what story I’m telling. Which means that I’ve done what everyone says NOT to do, which is overthink your NaNoWriMo novel. The point is to just write. Keep writing until a story uncovers itself (or not) and characters appear (or not) and at some point you’ll have a shitty first draft of something (or not). So I should be writing like a motherfucker regardless of how I feel about the story that I may or may not even be writing. AAAAGGGGHHHHH! I wish my Inner Editor had an “off” switch. Probably alcohol could help with that too?
All is well. We’re here. Mom seems to be happy and has a bit more energy than she has had in the recent past. She loves being in her casa with her art all around her and loves having Tia Karina Sofia Garcia Patron to pal-around with. And all of the things that were broken when we showed up (the car, the propane tank, the electricity, the water, etc.) are being fixed. No internet or cable TV at the house until after November 22, so until then I’ve GOT to drag my ass over to the internet cafe on the square or here, ON THE BEACH (don’t hate me cuz I can only get internet on the beautiful shores of the Caribbean 🙂 hate me cuz I’m a bitch!)