JARANA JAZZ: Tuesday 31st January

Last night Ian and I went to the Plaza Grandee once more to join the people dancing in the square. It was packed and they had two bands playing. We joined the throng and it wasn’t long before the locals were encouraging us to be more energetic in our latin moves. Everyone was smiling and sweating as they went from one dance tune to the next. The tall man was there again but the little lady he had tucked down near his waistband last time wasn’t with him, instead I saw him going from one lady to another. I wore my Mexican dress, it is black with a bright floral bandeau. The warm evening air and the magnificent buildings surrounding the square lit up, made for a perfect evening. We then went to the small Olympio Theatre on the corner of the square to a jazz concert. The theatre was packed and so we guessed it must be a good band. There was a big build up and finally they took to the stage, a trumpet, clarinet, two tenor saxophones, violin, bass guitar, pianist and drummer. They opened with a typical Mexican mumba, this was followed by another Mexican based number, the saxophones left the stage but one of the players returned and played jazz flute that was incredible. He switched instruments throughout the evening, soprano sax, tenor sax and flute. The violinist also played some amazing solos, as did the clarinettist. Visiting guitarists joined in on some pieces and at one point during the evening an elderly man practically folded in two in his wheelchair on the front row was introduced and the audience went wild. I can only assume he was a prominent jazz musician in his day. The pianist was fantastic and played a piece called, Alice in Wonderland, beautifully. We had some Miles Davies and so the evening went on and on. The band was very together acknowledging each other throughout to pass the solos and improvisations from one to the other. The band was called the Jarana Jazz Band. Dancing in the street and a free jazz concert; what more could a girl ask for?
On Friday 20th April 2012 I received these comments and want to put the record straight. My friend Ian, visited me a few days ago and we were reminiscing about this evening and so it is with great pleasure I am able to add this detail.
Mauricio Bonfiglio commented on JARANA JAZZ: Tuesday 31st January
hi
My name is Mauricio Bonfiglio, I was the drummer and the musical director of the concert
The concert called “Jarana Jazz”, my band is called “Jazz Sensitive de Mauricio Bonfiglio”
the old man was honored musician of the night, Juan Evangelista Nic Peréz, a well-known composer of the musical style “jarana yucateca”
I arranged some of his songs specially for the concert and tribute.
Just yesterday I repeated the concert with more mucisians
God bless you

Tuesday 31st January
We went to the beach yesterday after school in the library with the girls. Ian, Madine, Renata and I. The weather was overcast and it rained along the way. We walked along the sea front, now nearly completed with a new promenade; it glares a bit but am sure that it will wear down with time. We stopped and had coffee at one of the restaurants and then walked back to the bus depot to find the bus for Chellum, a small fishing village to the west of Progressa. We boarded a small taxibus and were speeding out of town when Ian said that he thought we were on the wrong bus. I asked the lady I was sat next to and sure enough it was wrong. Back on the street we walked back into town determined to get it right; it reminded me of when I take the grandchildren on holiday and we often got lost. Finally we got to Chellum; it was still a bit overcast and windy, we walked along the beach looking for the fish restaurant Pia had told us about. We couldn’t find it and eventually settled for a back street ‘one woman’ stand. She fried us some fish and it was delicious. I am paying the price today and scoffing Imodium once again!

It’s Raining Thursday 26th January

I felt a lot better this morning but still daren’t eat anything. I couldn’t go to the babies and decided to go to the Frida Kahlo exhibition I’d seen advertised. I caught a bus out to a large shopping mall called, Liverpool, the exhibition was very small made up of old photographs of Frida and some documentary evidence. My Spanish is lousy but I know a little about her and was able to follow it. The shopping mall is very smart and in contrast to what I have seen in the town centre. I walked around and checked out the swimming costumes – loads to choose from but they were all around 2,000 pesos, that’s about £100!! Afraid my nylon outfit for 320 pesos, £15 will have to do. I caught a taxi-bus home, like a dormobile, and went straight to the Hotel Trinidad for a swim. On the corner opposite the hotel there is a large bookshop and I decided to go in and see if they had any English books. I have bought a Yukaton guide from the bookshop in the town centre, but this bookshop was amazing and they have a huge selection of very good books in English at good prices. I bought two books on Frida Kahlo, I may give one away as a present and frankly I could have bought loads more, there are some excellent books on Guatamala, a place I visited a few years ago.
I got into conversation with the owner and he showed me into the back room to a large gallery and courtyard, where he explained they have poetry, prose and music here on a Wednesday night. I did know about it but not where it took place. I promised to go next Wednesday. It was overcast and warm and so I went across the road to the hotel and the swimming pool. I had it all to myself, absolute bliss; it is a beautiful setting surrounded by exotic trees. Ian turned up and had a swim and then it started to rain. We got dressed and dashed to the Café Chocolate; one of our favourite haunts and had a delicious cappuccino. We waited for the rain to abate and then hurried home. The water was lying in great pools on the road and you had to be careful not to get drenched by the cars. This coupled with the dreadful pavements that are pitted with broken concrete and have seriously large kerbs and unexpected steps make for an interesting walk back. I fell over the other day on the pavement; it certainly focuses your attention! Everyone was coming back to the house soaking wet, on the upside it is warm rain. We are going into town tonight to have a last drink with Pia, she leaves on Sunday and I am going to Celestun tomorrow for the weekend, another national park on the coast about two hours from here.

I’m in heaven: Friday 27th January
I have been up since 5a.m. We went to the bar last night as planned, the one that overlooks the Plaza Grande and met up with Pia and her friend Toby. Toby was a tonic, he arrived carrying a rucksack on his back and rolled up mattress on his front down the centre of which was stuffed his mountain pick axe. He told us amazing stories about hitch hiking down America from Canada and the mountains that he had climbed. He had climbed five in Mexico. He sleeps where he can and will find somewhere to stay on couchsurfing.org staying for free in local houses. Pia had met up with Mexicans as a result of using this site, not for a bed but to meet up with local people and tonight she is going out for a meal with some of her Mexican friends. I have to say she is streets ahead of the English girls staying in the house. We sent Toby off into the night to catch the overnight bus to Cancun where he was flying home via Liberia as it was the cheapest way!

The reason I was awake so early is because I am still suffering. I had a small bowl of soup last night before we went out and then had a coke and a pineapple juice in the bar. It was enough. Meanwhile back on the toilet wondering if I should go and work with the girls I thought, ‘sod it, I don’t feel ill; a bit of stomach ache and no appetite.’ I took an Imodium tablet and the three of us were out of the house by 6.30a.m. We were walking down the track in the cool morning air when one of the ‘mama’s’ came along and offered us a lift. The girls were getting organised for the day and one of them read a section from the bible after which we held hands and she said a prayer. We sat around chatting and Sylvia, who is determined to get me speaking Spanish, told me that we were going to another house to help them with cleaning. At first I thought it was an old people’s home but she said not. I was looking up the word for ‘disabled’ when she saw HIV and said that is what they had. Interesting, well it would have been but we didn’t go. At nine o’clock one of the other mama’s came in and said that it was cancelled. This is typical Mexican and the word ‘manana’ comes to mind. When waiting for a bus, and this can take up to an hour, if you ask a Mexican when it is due, he will say, ‘ten minutes,’ a bit later on you ask again and he will say, ’ten minutes.’ We cobbled together a lesson for the girls and stayed until 10.30a.m. and then took the long journey home. We waited for nearly an hour for the bus but at least it was a bit cooler today after the rain. A cyclist went by and said that the bus would be about, ‘ten minutes.’ Oh Yeah!
I risked another bowl of soup for lunch and got ready for my weekend away. I left Pia and Ian walking into town whilst I caught a taxibus, my reserves are low. I had to say goodbye to Pia as she is leaving on Sunday, I shall miss her.

Weekend Away In Celestun

In town I hadn’t a clue where I was and got on another bus to the bus station, the wrong one, it dropped me off at the main bus station. All my efforts at the ticket office to ask for a ticket in Spanish were in vain as she tried to explain that I was at the wrong bus station. A large queue was forming behind me. I got a taxi to take me to Noeste where I was to catch the bus to Celestun. Buses come and go and I kept getting up until at last it was the one I wanted. It takes two hours, I read for an hour and then sat looking out of the window at the poor little villages that we passed and began to wonder what I was doing sitting in a scruffy, dirty, bus, on my own, going to a far flung seaside town with no accommodation booked. Why wasn’t I with a man who wanted to treat me to a luxurious holiday with all the trimmings? Why was I looking over broken down walls at scruffy backyards with dogs sniffing around for bits of food or chickens scratching in dirt? I was beginning to feel quite sorry for myself and wondering if I would get there before it got dark and then we were on the long straight road to the coast and just like it does at home when I have been away, as you approach the coast the sky seems to get brighter. It has been overcast today but it hasn’t rained. The sky was turning peach and pink as we pulled into the town square.
‘Tut tuts’ were jostling for positions next to the bus. These converted scooters are like the three wheelers we used to ride on in India. I had found a hotel in the guide book, Hotel Maria del Carmen and asked the driver how much to take me there, ‘five pesos,’ that’s 25 pence. I sat on the narrow seat with my back pack next to me and off we went bumping along down unmade roads. We went over an area where workmen were digging up the road and he pulled sharply into a sandy courtyard. ‘Is this the Hotel Maria del Carmen?’ Not believing it was anywhere moderately like a hotel. A plump lady appeared and said, ‘si, I am Carmen,’ and shook my hand. Without further ado she led me up three flights of outside steps and along an open corridor, opened the door and showed me a room right on the seafront with it’s own balcony. ‘Cuenta costa?’ I asked. ‘350 pesos a night,’ she said, that’s about £17.00 a night. The room is simple, it has a double bed and a single bed and a shower room but the location is fantastic. The hotel is literally on the beach, no road or path in front of it. ‘Don’t speak now,’ she said, ‘we will talk tomorrow,’ handed me the key and left. I had to go out straight away to watch the rest of the sky lose its colour. I walked along the white sandy beach for a while before returning to my room. The key is for effect, I can’t lock the door. I regret having the miseries on the bus. This is heaven.

The next day: Saturday 28th January
I have slept for eleven hours and I don’t feel the need to rush to the toilet. I had a few savoury biscuits and a swig of water last night. The funny thing is that I don’t feel hungry, although I was thinking that later on it would be nice to find a café or bar where I could get a cappuccino, one like they serve in Café Chocolate, beautifully presented in a tall glass with a hint of real coffee. The town didn’t look very promising if I’m honest. They don’t have tarmac roads. I feel like a character in a Graham Greene book as I look out of my salt stained window through exotic trees onto the wide sandy beach, the waves falling and crashing in a gentle lazy curl.
The blue sky is scattered with light puffy clouds, the rain no longer a threat.
I am so glad to be in a room on my own and pleased that I wasn’t tempted to go to the hostal for 100 pesos a night, £5.00. Celestun is not the kind of place you find in holiday brochures, except for the Lonely Planet guide, not enough sanitation I suspect. It does however have outstanding natural beauty. Let’s hope they can keep it that way, I’m sure Spain and all the other European holiday spots started off like this.
I have had the most incredible day. By chance I found the café El Lobo on the corner of the square and had a white coffee that tasted good. I found the ATM near the police station and got out some more money and then I went to the local market and bought some fruit. This town is getting modernised, cement pavements have been built and a road is being laid at the back of the hotel. All around the square pipes are being laid and everywhere there is evidence of digging. How long before the sticky red plastic tablecloths will be replaced by cotton and the price of coffee doubled.
I arrived here with 1,000 pesos, £50, 700 pesos for my accommodation and that would leave me with a bout £10.00 to spend. As I was not in good health when I arrived I had thought that I might not do anything, lie in bed, lay on the beach and read, stay away from posh restaurants. There are no posh restaurants but there is plenty of good food.
A good way to see the town is to ask where the Panaderia is (Bakers), I was sent to every street by different people until the end I was just hot and tired. I returned to El Lobo and ordered a pancake with honey and another cup of coffee. On the table was a bottle Crosse and Blackwell Salsa Tipo Inglesa, it looks like a bottle of Lea and Perrins and next to it is a bottle of Habenero Red Pepper Hot Sauce. Chilli is king in this country; I recently bought what looked like a ‘bell pepper’ the sort I used stuff with savoury rice in Central America, not so, it was hot. All the large innocent looking peppers are hot, the little ones are even hotter; one bite of those and you think that you have been bitten by a viper.
The lady sat at the next table to me in the café has two front silver teeth clamped in by a silver brace on each tooth. I have seen this before and they look like characters out of a James Bond film but on the side of the baddies. Her husband balanced on a small wooden chair has his huge stomach held together by an acid yellow Tee shirt. The Mexicans in middle age often sport a middle age spread. I couldn’t eat all the pancake or finish the coffee, I paid the bill and returned to the hotel. I went for a swim in the shallow warm sea; I was the only person on the beach and I stayed there for a while enjoying the sun and reading. It got too hot and I sat under the trees where three sun lounge’s had been placed.. After a while I returned to my room and had a hot shower, I pottered about and decided to have an adventure. I would try and find the mangrove boat ride.

The Mangroves
In the square I got a ‘tut tut’ and asked the driver to take me to where I could see the mangroves. My Spanish got me to the boats for the flamingos, I impressed on him that I definitely wanted mangroves. He turned around and took me to another place; this didn’t feel quite right but I settled for it. A little boat was tied up and I was given a rather ostentatious life jacket and got into the boat with the owner. We had a paddle each and set off quietly through the water. The area was laid out as a water park with arrows on the trees, it definitely wasn’t what I had in mind but he was keen to show me the birds and the trees and looked for a crocodile in vain. It cost me 100 pesos and he was charming. Back at the flamingo kiosk I asked if they knew where I could get a canoe to go through the mangroves, no, they didn’t, they had motor boats and for 750 pesos I could go and see the flamingos. This was the first Mexican I had met in Celestun who spoke English; to capture the Americans who were queuing for boats I expect, I left.
Back on the main road I flagged down another ‘tut tut’ and asked him about a canoe and the mangroves, he took me off down a long track to a rather deserted open sided barn where two men stood. Yes, they could take me through the mangroves in a canoe for 200 pesos. I gave my driver 10 pesos and thanked him. Jose introduced himself and asked me to follow him. We walked across an open area and then along a board walk through the mangroves, eventually we came to a couple of white boats tied up. He pulled one alongside the little jetty and asked me to get in. He got in behind me and with a long pole punted us out into the stream. The waterway was narrow and the mangrove dense. It was like a tunnel and it didn’t look as if you could get through with the roots of the mangrove reaching out into the water like enormous tentacles. It was quite eerie and yet beautiful and mysterious. It was also very quiet and tranquil, very little bird song and you can imagine being here alone knowing that there were crocodiles lurking.
Jose slowed down for me to admire a bird that I couldn’t see it was so well camouflaged and then it flew up onto a branch; a long elegant bird exactly the same colour as the trunk of the mangrove, a rather dull grey. Sunlight played through the trees creating it’s own magic highlighting the long thin tendrils that dangle from high up. The shade and the cool were welcome as we glided through the dense woodland.
We emerge from this tunnel into a huge lagoon and we saw that bird again and then an eagle. We moved more slowly now and I offered Jose three of my salty biscuits and a swig of water. The sun was beaming down on us and my arms were burning. We made slow progress through the still, shallow water. An eagle circled us. Jose explained that they fly very high and pointed up into the sky where a pair of eagles soared high above us.
We approached a circle of sticks in the water and I think this is the freshwater area where you can swim, it is mentioned in the brochures. Fresh water erupts into the salt water lagoon in places. As we approached a little wooden jetty Jose took the boat near to a cement structure saying it was a ‘bombita’. I put my hand in the water that was bubbling out and tasted clear fresh water, around the water was a little murky and definitely salty. We landed the boat and walked across the boardwalk to the other side where we looked out over a beautiful lagoon on the far side was a row of large white, long necked birds, not unlike white flamingos. We then followed the boardwalk back and walked quite a long way through the mangrove. It opened out into a large wide open space a flock of egrets lifted from the water where they had been drinking. There were lookout places for people to sit bird watching. A flock of partridges flew a short distance and a delicate sandpiper crossed the boardwalk in front of us. It was a long walk and an enjoyable one. At the other end Jose waved me through the trees to another lagoon. This was more dramatic it was a petrified forest, the trees had long since last their branches and only stubs remained standing in the shallow water; Jose pointed and said, ‘bonito’, but for me it was macabre.
We then walked along a sandy path through more open countryside and Jose first picked up a large cricket with a brown coloured patterned back and then a small crab with one large claw, he showed me a whole where these land crabs live. We walked for about half a mile or so and then came across the bikes. He asked me to choose a bike and I took the one nearest but when I started to ride it the front brakes were rubbing. I asked if I could try the other bike and it was much better. He took mine and pointed to the front wheel and the brakes. Along the way we stopped at another pond where small fry were swimming, it was a spawning area for fish in the lagoon, they swam up a narrow stream to get to this place of fresh water before returning to the salty waters in the lagoon.
I enjoyed the cycle ride and when we got back I paid him the 200 pesos as agreed and gave him another 100, we had been out for 2 hours and he had shown me so much and I ‘d had a great time. We hadn’t met another person along the way. When I said that I would walk back along the track to the main road a young lad who was there said that he would give me a lift on his scooter. I rolled up my trousers and sat astride him on the back. Jose smiled and waved me off. I was truly grateful for the lift. I’m sure that I would have got a lift somehow back into town but there was the danger that I might have had to walk. I love these people.

Am I Lonely? Sunday 29th January
Last night I walked down the beach to see the sun go down. Not much of a sunset as there was too much cloud on the horizon but there was a lovely crescent moon in the sky with its bright star in tow. This is the first time that I have seen the moon in Mexico, in England we get some great moonlit nights. I walked along the jetty and then back along the beach until I came across a café with tables and chairs on the sand. I ordered a Pina Colada. It was a bit harsh, quite strong and the ice was not frappe but a lump in the bottom. I sat drinking it thinking about my husband and what he was doing on this Saturday night. How is it that I get to go to such exotic places on my own? I paid for my drink, it cost twice what it does in Merida and I returned to my room. It was 7p.m. and I sat on my balcony enjoying the balmy night listening to the waves running backwards and forwards; lights twinkle on the horizon and Mexican voices clattered somewhere down below. Another early night tonight; I needed to wallow in the comfort of my own room on my own. I am glad that I came to Celestun, it is a beautiful place.
I woke up in the night with a queasy tummy. Apart from the pina colada and the half eaten pancake I had eaten two small mangos, some salty biscuits and some nachos. I’d drunk half a bottle of coke and some water. I blamed the pina colada and so I am afraid that my luxury drink is now off limits. As I lay awake in the night I wished my friend Lanky was here with me; I wished I was curled up in bed with my husband; I wished I didn’t always have to travel on my own. Am I lonely? In the cold light of day I don’t think that I am lonely I think that I am very lucky to be here. I miss my family; I think that my daughters and their families would love this place, I am not sure my husband would be able to stick it out. There is always noise and music and, of course, the sea. These are the ingredients that cheer me up the most. Talking of music I do miss playing my saxophone and I miss Saxation the most!

Losing Weight 26th January

I met up with my friend Anna on Tuesday afternoon in the main plaza. We haven’t seen each other for nearly ten years. Anna used to lodge with us in North Somerset and saw on facebook that I was in Merida and as she was in the Yukaton she contacted me. We sat and chatted and went for a meal and talked some more, we went to the Plaza Santiago, where I had been the week before, there is dancing in this square every Tuesday night. The band played and the people danced but the day was long and so I walked back home and Anna went off back to the town centre looking for more excitement.
During the night I woke up with terrible stomach ache and before too long the toilet and I could not be parted. What was I going to do? I had arranged to meet Anna between 10 and 11 at the Italian café, a bad choice as she doesn’t drink coffee. I went back to bed and hoped that the moment would pass; then I remembered the magic of Imodium and took a pill. I went to sleep for an hour and decided to make the journey into town. I was okay but definitely not eating or drinking. I met Anna in the café and felt extremely thirsty and ordered a coke. It worked. We talked about everything and anything, it was great to be with her. We decided to go to the zoo as a bus ride may not be a good idea in my condition. We walked slowly to the zoo, it was great. Reminiscent of a Russian zoo, a lot of cement structures and old metal merry go rounds for the children but it is free and we wandered around looking at monkeys, exotic birds and big cats. There were a lot of Bengali tigers, I hope that it is because they are breeding them. There was also a family of hippos, the male was huge. The highlight of the day was the enormous iguana that appeared on top of one of the cages right opposite us as we sat and on one of the benches talking. He clambered down the side of the cage and I wondered what on earth I was going to do if he crossed the path towards us. The Mexicans were unperturbed and we all took advantage of this photo opportunity. On we wandered and I was beginning to feel a bit queasy and decided to take a sickness pill, big mistake. I came over all funny and for a moment I thought that I was going to faint. We sat on a bench until the moment passed and I said that I ought to get back home as I was feeling very tired. We caught a taxi, luxury, and I was soon tucked up in bed again, it was 3.30p.m. I was sorry to leave Anna early as she was catching the overnight bus to Cancun, but we had managed to talk about lots of things and it was refreshing to be able to have such stimulating conversation.
I slept on and off and read my book, or should I say Kindle, which I’m getting used to. I tried to stay awake until 9p.m. and then went to bed properly and slept until 6 this morning. I didn’t eat anything yesterday and after my delicious coke yesterday morning, a drink I seldom have, I’ve had nothing. I had a cup of black tea this morning and will probably eat something later. I knew that I would lose weight, we walk everywhere and it is hot. But the bug is the one that really eases you on your way to shedding those pounds. I hope now that this is it, my illness of the holiday and I can get on and enjoy myself. No more meat, from now on I am going vegetarian, the only thing I ate differently from Anna in the restaurant was the meat.

The Working Day

Tuesday 25th January
I get up around 6.30a.m., make myself a cup of black tea and then maybe some breakfast, toast, sometimes an egg and then get ready to go. We usually walk for about 20 minutes to catch a bus and it is really pleasant at this time of day, cool and quiet. On the bus for nearly an hour as it rattles it way in and out of small streets. The road system here is a grid one and we go round in squares to get back to where we want to be as they are often one way. I don’t mind the journey and at one point we go through a local market, the huge speakers blaring out music outside the food stalls. Once we get to our stop, which is not a stop at all; you have to look out for the building with the big terracotta arch and then on the right hand side you will see three trees with stone surrounds, that’s where we get off. We then walk for about 20 minutes down a long straight open, dusty track to where the girls are staying in a ‘safe’ house.
These girls have had some terrible experiences and they are now being looked after by ‘mamas’. When we get there a woman unlocks the gates and we go into a large Mexican house where the girls are already seated around two large tables and after greeting each other we start the lesson. We teach them English and we are lucky having Pia with us who is very organised with lesson plans and procedures. We have been doing sessions using working in a shop, restaurant or café and we split the girls into three groups and we get them to write down questions and answers in English. After that we ask them to play out a small scene each asking the other a question in English. Not only does it get them using the words we are hoping to improve their confidence. Often these girls have low self esteem and they need to be lifted. There are 16 of them and I can remember my group names very well. I am working on learning the rest!
They are lovely girls and I enjoy the work enormously. Unlike Uganda this is more like serious teaching as without preparation it would be a long two hours. We also introduce a little levity by playing a game, charades for example and today we did a pass the parcel game. As they unwrap a layer of paper it will has an English sentence written on it and they have to read it out. I know it is quite difficult because I am trying to remember Spanish phrases and can’t believe that I can’t remember from one day to the next. But the more you do it, the better it becomes. There is no break and so by the time we finish you feel quite tired but exhilarated and the girls will often come up and say goodbye and kiss you on one cheek. We then start the long journey home, only the sun is higher in the sky and it is hot, very hot. That’s why I often get the bus to Progressa and go for a swim in the sea, or go to the Hotel Trinidad and swim in their pool. Today my friend Anna is in Merida and so I am going to meet her in the square at four o’clock; I’m looking forward to it. Now I must get writing those English sentences in readiness for my lovely class!

Monday 24th January – Another Fiesta

Sunday Evening
We left Rio Lagartos on the eleven o’clock bus for Merida. The whole weekend had cost me approximately £100 including accommodation, food and excursions. It was money well spent, I feel totally rested and privileged to have been to such a beautiful place. We got back to Merida at about 2p.m. and spent the afternoon catching up on cooking and washing.
The internet is down. A car ran into the telegraph pole opposite the house in the early hours of Saturday morning and it snapped in half cutting the wire to our side of the road. Heaven only knows when we will get reconnected as we live in a back street and I should think that we are low priority.
Ian and I got dressed up and went to the Grand Plaza for the Sunday night out; a stage had been built at one end of the square and there was a great band playing. Once again it was packed with people dancing and walking about, sitting outside the cafes drinking and enjoying the whole atmosphere. We had a drink; I had a pina colada, a drink that I am getting quite fond of! We moved nearer to the front to get a better feel of the music, the trumpets and the drums kept the pace moving and two singers, a man and a woman, took turns to sing. Then it was suddenly all over. The lights went out and before they could start getting their equipment off the stage men were dismantling the barriers.
We wandered around the Mayan market stalls buying ear rings and admiring the exquisite embroidery. We were attracted into a side street where five drummers were playing. It was hypnotic as the beat hammered through your body. A little boy was jumping up and down to the rhythm. Back on the square for a plate of chips a strolling band came by and I gave them some coins, mainly because they had a tenor sax with them. We then went on to the Italian café for a café friore, a cold coffee served in a tall glass with chocolate chips in it and a topping of a swirl of cream, absolutely delicious, a great end to a great weekend. On the way back to the house we met Pia who was just on her way out to go to a party, that is the difference between the young and the old!
Monday 24th January
It is 10.30p.m. and we have just got back from the main plaza. Ian and I arranged to go out for a drink with Carlos, the young man who helps us with teaching the girls on a Monday when we go to the library. He lives in an enormous town house. It stretches from one street right through to another. It is truly amazing. He has decided to do bed and breakfast to raise some money whilst he is studying at university and showed us around. He is only 20 years old and lives alone with his mother in the house whom we met, a lovely gentle woman. His father lives about six hours drive away, he didn’t explain the family situation and I didn’t ask.
We went to the Mayan bar but it was closed and so we went into the square and sat at an open window in an upstairs bar. Down in the square a band was playing and a procession was being organised outside the cathedral. When the procession began led by the band made up of a line of trumpeters and a line of drummers it was amazing. The ladies were all dressed in the beautiful Mayan dress that is white and very heavily embroidered at the yoke and hem, a lace underskirt shows beneath. In their hair they wore a pile of flowers twisted around ones side of the hair line. The men all wore white suits and panama hats. There were children dressed in the traditional costume as well. Some paraded carrying flowers others carried banners between them and the Mayan virgin was carried aloft by four men. There were three bands in all and the number of people taking part all dressed in the traditional costume was endless.
Once on the far side of the square their was the inevitable announcements before the music began and these beautiful people danced.
In the concert hall nearby a blues band was playing to another packed audience, and it is Monday night! This is a fantastic town.

Flamingoes, Sunday 22nd January 2012

Sunday 22nd January Rio Lagartos: We got a luxury bus at 2p.m. from Merida to Tizmni, it took two and on arrival in Tizimni we got on another bus to Rio Lagartos that got us there soon after five o’clock. We walked down to the seafront and then following instructions from one of the locals we found our hotel, Ville de Pescadores, as recommended by Tila back at the house. We dumped our stuff in the room and went straight up onto the roof to watch the sun go down sinking below the sea horizon. We are staying in a Nature reserve the lagoon is outlined by mangrove trees. We walked around the little town and it is very quiet apart from a vehicle circumnavigating the streets belting out music and an announcement, which I think may be political. At first I thought that there was a fiesta in the square but no such luck, just children playing. We ate in the hotel restaurant on this our first night. It was simple food, I had a delicious piece of fresh fish fried in butter and served with the house special rice and salad. We went to bed at about ten o’clock. The next day we got up at six and went to meet the fisherman with whom we had arranged to go and see the flamingos. The water was flat as we chugged quietly away from the jetty, we left in arc, which I was later to learn was a deep channel out as there are lots of sand banks. It was peaceful cruising through the mangroves, the wind on my face and as we rode directly into the rising sun we saw it change from orange to yellow to a blinding brightness as it rose higher in the sky. Francisco, our captain, slowing down pointed out various birds to us including frigates who had followed us out of our moorings, herons, egrets and a pair of osprey. I was so pleased to be here on this water safari and grateful to be with someone to share it with. Every now and then Francisco would go slowly alongside the mangroves, looking for crocodiles but there were none to be seen. Bearing in mind we were not given life jackets or any instruction on impending doom I didn’t know if I was pleased or not to see a crocodile. The lagoon is huge and we must have travelled for about half an hour, the frigates leading the way their sharp outline stark against the clear blue sky. The mangrove is dense and sometimes quite smelly, and then we would round a bend and into an open stretch of water before entering another narrow straight where the herons and egrets would stand and stare. Pelicans roosted on the bare branches of dead trees whilst other birds looked as if they were walking on water as they picked their way across a sandbank just under the water line. We saw a white pelican from Canada, and stopped to photograph a black eagle hawk perched up on top of one of the dead trees. Francisco threw a fish high up into the air for it to catch but before it got it’s talons on the fish a pelican came out of nowhere and swept it up in his huge beak. We went under an old wooden bridge where some of the workmen were fishing using a circular net with weights around the edge, we watched as they hauled out several large fish. On we sped towards the feeding area of the flamingos and I worried about the sun and wind on my face. As we rounded another bend into a wide open space Francisco pointed across and there were bright pink dots far away, the flamingos. He said that we had to go carefully now as the water was only 30cms deep. He used a pole to punt us towards the birds. We must approach them slowly as they need to feed for ten hours a day to conserve enough energy to fly in the early morning and the evening. One bird took flight whilst we were there but it was astounding to see these brightly coloured birds picking their way through the water walking together like soldiers, their spindly legs bending at a sharp angle at the knee as they tip toed through the shallows. It was difficult to know whether to take notes, photographs or just sit and watch them. I decided on the latter. As we left the area the birds were picked out in the bright sunlight they were as blossom on the water, such beauty and elegance was dreamlike in this peaceful place. The engine purred as we made our way to the salt fields nearby, they were grey and ugly next to the mangrove and lagoons. We poked the nose of the boat into the bank and Francisco helped us off and we scrambled up the salt bank, on the other side was the red lake. Red because of the small shrimp that live in the water, it is this creature that the flamingos feed on and what gives them their colour. On the return journey we cruised the mangrove again looking for a crocodile, I loved feeling the sun on my back as we sauntered through the lagoon. Then the boat turned full circle, Fransisco had seen a croc. He wasn’t very large and at first hard to see, he blended in so well with the muddy ground where he lay. He got up and went quickly to the water’s edge and slipped in right in front of us, we could see his eyes, but not for long, he disappeared under the water. We took off and only to slow down once more to , appeared once more to accompany us home. We pulled in at nine o’clock. We had breakfast at the hotel and then caught another boat to go to the beach, about ten minute ride out of the lagoon and into the open sea,; bearing right we were beached on the most beautiful white beach that stretched as far as the eye could see and nobody else was there. We asked the boatman to come back in three hours. There were open sided grass huts for shelter from the sun but we wanted to swim nd then we walked to the end of the beach, probably about half a mile where it turned a corner and carried on. It was perfect. In the afternoon we rented bicycles and cycled around the town getting to know it better at the farthest end was a deserted holiday place and a path indicated ‘Guadeloupe’ curious we followed it through the mangrove where it led to a church. The door was open and I ventured in; it was decorated with colourful paper flowers in true Mexican style. We cycled back with a warm breeze blowing on my glowing skin; you could hear the rattle of children playing and the cracked church bell clanging out the hour. At six o’ clock we went back up on the roof to watch the sun go down and watch the women arm in arm, take the paseo, walking around the streets, whilst the men sat on the sea wall talking. The hotel owner came up onto the roof and sat quietly when he left he spread out his arms and then with his hands in prayer he thanked God for such beauty, ‘and it’s free’ he said.

Thursday 19th January

Thursday 19th January:
So what is it like living here? The house is large on a side street about a mile from the centre of town and we often walk into town. I am in a room downstairs, just off the kitchen with Ian and upstairs there are two rooms, one with four bunk beds and one with two bunk beds. The smaller of the two rooms accommodates two girls who are very good friends, the other room has six girls at the moment. I believe there is a sun roof, but I haven’t been up there yet, leaving it to the young girls to lie and bake in the sun during the day and drink tequila at night.
We share the kitchen and cook our food. The first thing is to grab a space on the shelf for your dried goods and then to bag a space in the fridge for everything else. The fridge seems to be the hardest to maintain and I bought myself a plastic box to put my meagre rations in, meagre because I don’t buy huge bottles of coke or fanta. Generally speaking we rub along quite well as the girls choose to do volunteering that doesn’t start until the afternoon. fIVE days a week I leave early, before 8a.m. to catch a bus or buses to my destination and the journey takes about an hour, mainly because it winds it’s way around the suburbs. I always travel with Ian who knows the ropes but yesterday I went on my own to Progresso, I’ve lost my gorgeous Mexican swimming costume and Progresso is the only place that sells them. I went on a large bus, quite comfortable, and it takes about 40 minutes. It’s a long straight road for bout 25 kilometres. TheY drive quite fast and brake just before they want to stop so that we all lurch forward. In Progresso I got the one remaining large swim suit left. There are about three shops, I mean stalls, that sell them and they are all small. Once again I had to go behind a makeshift screen and squeeze into nylon fabric. I was absolutely sweating buckets by the time I squeezed into the one that I was going to have to buy. I had to buy it because there wasn’t anything else and having lost my other one I probably will never be able to buy another costume in the Yukaton to fit me. I kept it on and went straight down to the beach and into the sea, it was bliss. The waves had calmed down and the current wasn’t as strong and I was grateful just to be in the water. An American asked me what it was like as I sat drying myself in the sun, I didn’t have a towel with me as I had gone to Progresso straight from looking after the children. He tried to make out how lucky we were in England to have the Gulf Stream dashing past our doorstep all the way from Florida. This is lucky, being here in Mexico where the water really is warm.
You must never put toilet paper down the toilet. On day two I put toilet paper down the toilet, realised what I had done and tried to retrieve some of it. The next person to go in, Theo, complained that the toilet was blocked. ‘Oh no,’ I cried, ‘you must never put toilet paper down the toilet as the pipes are so small,’ making a tiny circle with my finger and thumb. Theo nodded in agreement and my guilt was all over me.
Ian and I tend to keep to ourselves, simply because we’re the early birds and get up and out and by the time we get back to the house the others have gone off to their projects. They go out for the occasional meal and then come back complaining that it wasn’t as good as they thought it would be, though it is often followed by a visit to a night club. Last night Ian and I went to a very smart bar, Café Chocolate, and had a Pina Colada for 33 pesos, about £1.50, it was nectar. I only had the one and then we walked back through the streets, quite a long way; Ian peeled off to the right to go to his usual haunt for his usual couple of drinks, women are not invited, not unless you are ‘the other woman’. I peeled off to the left and made my way home. I usually go to bed around 10 o’clock and read by my headlight for twenty minutes and then I sleep very well until 6.30a.m. I am seldom disturbed by the rest of the house returning so must be getting used to subconscious noises. I am looking forward to going away this weekend for a change of scenery, and to get away from the close proximity of the house, otherwise I generally like it here and get on well. I start Spanish lessons next Monday.

MEXICO

Monday 16th January
Last night Ian, Debbie and I went in to town to go to the free concert. When we arrived in the main square it was packed with people dancing to a large band. It wasn’t long before Debbie had been invited to dance with a young man and then he asked me. You step from one foot to the other, there is no gliding across the floor but you do get the odd twirl. He was very patient and said that the most important thing was to enjoy yourself. And we did, I danced with Ian and drank my first margarita. It was salty and sour. I had forgotten what it was like after so many years. Did I really like it? I didn’t finish it. I’ll have to find another local brew.
The concert was classical music with some Bach and Holst. There were two trumpet players, two trombones and a French horn. An unusual combination but it worked well. Afterwards we walked the dark empty streets to Passeo Montejo to admire the grand Spanish mansions lit up at night. It was spectacular after walking through the surrounding poverty. My legs were aching from so much walking and we made our way back to the house, passing a charming little theatre where a performance was well under way. This is a remarkable place.
Yesterday when we went to the beach I had to buy a swimming costume, mine was in England. I asked several women in Merida but there was none to be found. Eventually at the coast in little shops on the way to the beach I found what I didn’t really want but it was the only one that fitted me. I was squeezed behind a makeshift screen and was passed several two piece costumes in garish colours which were shapeless and baggy. ‘Mas grande?’ No I had the biggest they could offer and believe me some of the women in this country are big, small but big, and I couldn’t get a costume to fit me. Finally a lady gave me the largest that she had in the shop and it slipped over my British curves. ‘Stupendo!’ she declared and I bought it. I look like a fifties beach babe in my multi coloured suit with a flap of circular skirt to ease the eye on my ample hips. Once in the sea I felt as if I as swimming in my dress.

Tuesday 17th January
Yesterday was my first day working with the project. Pia, Ian and I went to the library; we were joined by Carlos, a local lad who Ian met last year. He is great to have along as whilst we are conducting English classes it was helpful to have someone who spoke Spanish to support us. Pia led the group as she is using the experience as part of her thesis at university.
We went to the beach again in the afternoon; a cruise ship had come in and it was crowded with Americans but you only had to walk a little way up the beach to find a quiet place. The jetty is the longest in the world and was built after the seisal trade died in order that container ships could land their goods. It was also an opportunity for cruise ships to arrive. You can see the lorries and the coaches trundling along the endless jetty backwards and forwards.
Today I went with Ian and Pia to where the girls. We caught a battered local bus at half past seven and it wound its way out of town and in and out of suburban areas giving us a chance to get a glimpse of Mexican life. When we got off, and God knows how Ian knew when it was, we turned onto a wide white dusty dirt track that stretched as far as the eye could see and I was told that we walked to the end and then around the corner and the house was secluded in amongst the trees. The sun was quite high by now and getting hotter. A car came along and was dawdling as it approached. We said that we were walking up the road and would be okay. The lady in the car was in fact the director of the project and gave us a lift. I was so pleased. I enjoyed working with the girls and because we broke into small groups I was determined to remember the names of the girls I was with; I go again on Friday and so time will tell.
Ian and I did a food shop on the way home and then caught a taxi back to the house, it is really hot today. We cleaned the kitchen after lunch and then we packed ourselves off to the Trinidad Hotel where they have a lovely secluded swimming pool. This is a like the old colonial days, the hotel has an ageing charm and I love it. I forgot my swimming costume and had to swim in my knickers and a tee shirt that I happened to have in my back pack. Not the most stylish outfit for this stylish pool. We were the only people there and we lounged about chatting shaded from the sun by huge trees. A plant I have in my sitting room at home is happily winding its way up one of the trees, no wonder I have to keep cutting it back.
I’ve just got back from dancing in the square. A big band played whilst three couples, with numbers on their backs, took to the floor and danced competing against each other. In the interval a young couple took the floor, the girl in the skimpiest of outfits and they showed us how it should really be done. Basically seduce each other. The trio returned and danced some more. It is an elderly competition and once the competition ended we were all invited to take to the floor, Ian and I led the Westerners and the locals showed us how. A local couple split us up and the man showed me how to make those short static steps and twist and turn whilst Ian slogged it out with his wife. We’re going again on Sunday night to the main plaza to try out our moves!

MEXICO 2012

MEXICO 2012

Sunday 15th January:
As it was Saturday night the girls in the house had lots of bottles of beer and a large bottle of cheap vodka. We are each responsible for cooking our meals and yesterday after walking around Merida and going in and out of museums and art galleries I went to the supermarket and bought some fruit and vegetables. I was still feeling very tired and could hardly be bothered cooking but knew I’d feel hungry in the night. I chopped and fried an onion, cooked some potatoes and carrots, chopped them and fried them up with the onion added some ground pepper and that was it.
After I had eaten I sat and watched an old black and white film on the television, determined to stay awake until nine o’clock. I am still tired after the long journey. Pia, a German girl came and chatted about her travelling. She is only staying in the house for a short time but has been travelling around the Yukatan for a month. Six girls are in the dorm upstairs and Debbie is in a curtained off room in the main entrance, she has been in Mexico since last July and is going home next week. We also have a Venezuelan man, Theo, in the other makeshift room off the entrance. Ian and I are in the room off the kitchen. There are two bunk beds in our room and I have the lower bunk of one set and the Ian the lower bunk on the other side of the room. I hide behind clothes and a towel draped from the top bunk and Ian is discreet behind a mosquito net he has draped around his bunk. Somehow it works, we have managed to address this unusual sleeping arrangement quite comfortably.
The girls sat outside last night drinking and chatting, I said that I was going to bed. They shouted through the open window outside my bedroom, ‘are we disturbing you Wendy?’ ‘No,’ I assured them but I might as well have invited them in. They said that they would go up to their room and continue. Within minutes I was asleep. I was aware of noise in the kitchen sometime later when Ian returned from the bar but I couldn’t bring myself to wake up.
It’s now 5a.m. and I am wide awake. Yesterday we spent the morning wandering around the town centre, it reminded me of Ecuador where the remains of a wealthy society live on. Little ladies bustling about the shops and markets in crisp white tunic dresses beautifully embroidered at the yoke and the hem. Tall scruffy backpackers stand out amongst the locals. I like being back in a muggy warm place with the familiar smell of rotting debris and spices. I like walking miles along straight roads lined with ageing Spanish houses and derelict cars. We went inside a huge church where the sermon echoed around the cavernous building and little Mexicans stood respectfully murmuring responses. There were fans everywhere to cool the devoted.
We returned to the Italian café where we had had a milky cappuccino earlier, for iced coffee piled high with whipped cream. The nod to the Italians was neither in their coffee nor their pastries but it was pleasant sitting by the open window as Volkswagens raced past spewing out their fumes and the artefacts of Mexican crafts dangled from shop doorways. Colour and noise are everywhere.
I’ve just got back from Progresso on the coast. I went with Ian on the local bus, about forty minutes from Merida. It was lovely to swim in a warm sea; the waves were erratic and came from all directions. We walked along the jetty where people were fishing and pelicans waited for the fish to be brought up on the end of a line!
We are now ordering pizzas for everyone in the house and then Ian and I are going to a free concert in the middle of town, salsa music. It is a cultural society and there are lots of free exhibitions and concerts. On Tuesday there is a big band in one of the squares with dancing – I’ll be there! This morning, Sunday, there were lots of market stalls everywhere run by the Indians, very colourful. There are now seven girls in the dorm that accommodates eight in four double bunk beds; I appreciate the space I have in a shared room with Ian, albeit an unusual arrangement.

2012 HAPPY NEW YEAR

I went for a swim this morning. It was dark, wet and windy when I left the house and my body was still warm from my bed. When I arrived at the swimming pool it was 7.30a.m. and there didn’t appear to be anyone in the water. Yes, there were three other people in the water. I swam graciously up and down whilst the woman to my right cut through the water with wide kicking legs and a huge pull. The man to my left fell sideways as he grabbed great mouthfuls of air and reached out towards the end of the pool. I was a child against these two doing a gentle breast stroke. A young girl on the other side of the pool was being schooled and she passed me twice before I reached the other end. I lay on my back and let the cares of the day float away before trying to catch up with my team mates who never let up. I am going away in ten days time and I want to be fit. Usually at this time of day the pool is full of grey haired men and women silently cutting through the water. What has happened to their New Year’s resolutions? Perhaps they don’t start until next week. Don’t delay, whatever you are going to do get on with it. I am 68 this year, time waits for no man. There’s no time like the present.