We made it to our new country. Mexico! We are formally aliens of the Yucatan Peninsula. We livin in Merida, Mexico y’all -for the next year…. we think. The life of moving from city to city and country to country is the epitome of freedom to us. We love it! This moment in time is defined by the world wide refugee crisis, the vile actions if ICE and the cavalier, privileged attitude of #Merica. With all of the things going on we are grateful to make the moves that we make. To make the coin that we make and to have found a love to build together. This life and lifestyle suits us to the T. International friends, good drinks, and not knowing where we may be living or what experiences to even anticipate having from month to month is the shiznitz to us. Read more
The Yucatan peninsula is full of fascinating beauty people and culture. Alot of places had that tourist vibe but once you fought through to the soul it was gorgeous. This subculure for lack of a better word created a feeling of unrest as a spirit of despair no subservience no contempt subversiveness contemptment filled the Maya. They held the lowliest jobs, their living conditions were reflected ……but nothing about them were in the least bit pitiable. We delved into these interesting bright faced people. Interestingly enough they found us very interesting. People wanted to touch Apryl’s hair and take pictures with us. People were taking the creeper shots of us as we walked down city streets. You know how it goes o e person poses in front of us while the other snaps a shotbof us. Of course me being us being who we are we photo bomed them. I tried to get a picture of them taking a picture of me but it didnt work out.
Of them ans smiled big for the others.
I am very familiar with it because I live in it daily in Black America. We are apart of the mainstream and us old schoolers hild a bit of contempt for mainstream not just for their shallow morals or hypothetical principles but mostly for dissallowing us’ es admission for so long. Now that we have gained money and cultural influence over mainstream Am err ica there seems to be allot of amnesia or is it forgiveness I cant tell. I guess it depends on whi you are talking to. The same held true for Quintana Roo. One of the gringos tried to tell us that the Maya had a different set of priorities and didnt care for modern convenience but when we spoke to the Maya that was not their sentiment. I think it interesting how people see what they are comfortable seeing instead of what is before their eyw.
but at the same time we don’t buy what mainstream is selling. Well that used to be our culture now it seems we don’t sell-out any more but we buy into the corrupt system we wanted to usurp just a 20 years ago…I am straying though. When we arrived to Merida we started to notice the stark differences between a particular people and the mainstream populace. This other group was poorer, worked in the janitorial type positions…they were the Maya but proud of who they were and their heritage. We turned heads everywhere we went because of what I believe was a sincere curiosity. They are not used to Black Folk and as ambassadors of Faith and my people we were cognizant of our hosts and it was cool to be the stars for a while. It was interesting because we went out of our way to stay away from gringos. I felt a connection with the Maya people. The more that I learned about their story, their heritage, and their history, the more fascinated I became.
maya north americas largest indegenous population
The family centered fun-loving and humble people of the Yucatan treated Us well. As long as you have a magnanimous attitude toward the tourist attacks, it is a wonderful place to visit. Of the tree cities that we spent the most time in Cancun was by far the most preditory. But we stayed in the hood not to be confused with the slums. I feel like the word slum really paints a graphic picture of despair. I find it interesting to begin to understand the
On our vacations thanks to Airbnb, we have been able to reside in the epicenters of cities we visit. For us that is ultra important.We are definitely caught up in the beauty of places. The beauty in the people the beauty in the culture the distinctive ways that we differ from one another. The humanistic ways that we relate to one another. You find this consuming beauty everywhere but it is always beneath the surface. The naked eye is often a lie. She she sees the shadow of what could be and mistakes it for a present reality. But beneath the surface you find the pulse of a generation. You find the motivations of a people. This is the it that we search for when we travel.
The tower of Bable’s dismount broke us up but it created pockets of gorgeous communities throughout the world. I want to see it. I want to see the beautiful. I want to experience the unwrapping of the present. What happens when beauty is disassembled? -You end up with a lot of beautiful places with the grotesque in-between. What do I mean…and he made it gorgeous Cultural influences, what are the I don’t like feeling like a tourist. Sincere relations is what gets me going. Raising a family that is based on relation not blood…anyway. We also don’t want to pay the tourist prices or go to touristy places. I want…we want to get the best feel for wherever we are visiting through the people. That said of course you can only get a partial . She and I wanted to get a better understanding of our southern neighbors so we decided to take a Mexican vacation and go as deep into to the country as we could safely go. We decided to visit the Yucatan Peninsula and stay in locations that would allow us to interact with ThePeople.
To begin our adventure we flew into Cancún. We opted to reside among the people in Cancún. We, she and I that is, rented an apartment (from a native) in downtown Cancún instead of staying in The Hotel Zone.
This was one of our better decisions. The apartment was lush and perfect and it put us among the people of Cancún which was exactly what we wanted.
Our first Mexican experience was an authentic Mexican resteraunt called
It was a familia restaurante chain. Being African-Americans with dreadlocs and braids did not alow us the ambiguity that I desired but I believe that not being white Americans and somewhat speaking the language earned us a pass…I think the mexican culture is not overtly passive. If you do not make yourself known you will not be served. We sat ourselves at the counter for a good while before I interrupted one of the quite busy patrons to take our order. I’m being nice it was ghetto. I mean, it was clean and it was apparent that someone took great pride in the establishment but there was that clutter and clang of in activity. The sound of people appearing busy so I studied the postures and conversations that were going on around me…they were all familia! -and then the bull dog came out of the kitchen dressed in his cooking gear (mask over his beard, gloves on his hands) and discretely but aggressively had conversations with two different groups and then actual work started to be done…until he went back to the kitchen. I couldn’t help but think of home. I was reminded of the family owned Popeye’s chicken that closed it’s doors after a year and countless other family ventures that fizzle because of family familiarity…#Ghetto
Half speaking the language half gesturing we waved down a combi (a shuttle van filling the gap in public transportation). 13 deep we rolled-out to our final destination. We hustled got some direction written on a Burger King napkin, backtracked about 3 times but we finally got the right bus…
While walking home last night, after our awesome New Years evening the city was washing out 2013. The streets were flooded. Evidently while we were two-stepping and salsa’ing the night away the weather was doing its own one two on the city (glad we were not on an island ;-).
The major cleansing had already happened. My future and I walked through Cancun’s flooded streets beneath a lite drizzle. At times we had to detour by entire city blocks to cross the street, while trying to stay our course in what we hoped was the right direction of home was #Quality.
Another NY, another country, another great night. It feels like memory lane is being decorated and we are just a part of the decor. That walk home may have been the best part. A little rain, semi-lost, with gentle hands and kisses between flooded city blocks in a foreign land. It was nice. Our conversation was just as soft as our gestures nothing too heavy just a nice flow. We decided that we would find Port Juarez to see the island that we didn’t get to see tonight. We wanted to travel like everyone else did who lived in the city, not by cab…But first we would hit Walmart to stock up on food and supplies for our stay in the Yucatan.
It was all so real, it was surreal. We found our way home easily (for the most part), mostly because earlier that evening we explored the general area looking for our place…that’s another story. We made it home after stopping for some junk food and refreshments. We were heading up to our sweet suite for the night when the night attendant interrupts us and hands us a voucher for a discounted breakfast in the adjoining restaurant Cafe Nader.
Over breakfast on new years day we made our agenda. A hike to Walmart, lunch and then find our way to Port Juarez to catch a ferry over to Isla Mujers.
Finding Port Juaraz was not easy with the language barrier and Us being oblivious to the public transportation system.
Our Time on Isla Mujers
Riding along the gulf of Mexico. Pitch of night. High tides. Live music playing with my arm around my Love. The skies ceiling is painted with what seems like a million luminary creatures singing their song to me. To me, because this moment is frozen in time. The hard swaying of the ship, the performer singing in a soft song in a foreign tongue, with my woman fast asleep in my arms for most of our seafaring journey. She worked hard today. We don’t vacation as tourists we go-hard on anthropological adventures. We absorb the culture as much as we can by hanging with the locals as much as we can. Coasting back to Cancún to prepare for departure in the morning. The urban portion of our adventure is coming to an end. At least some portion of the population spoke English here. We are headed deeper into the country tomorrow. Heading into Merida where we are not expecting to run into too many folks who communicate in our native tongue.
On our way back to our suite we grab some KFC and some ice cream as we are walking we run it to a family-type of festival going on. Kids racing mini-cars, food vendors everywhere, games, and more singing. Mexico loves to sing. This is a nice end to our stay in Cancun.
-Today was a good day.