Aantenex'e tin Luubul ti' K'aan

June 14th, 2009

Unlike my previous trips to the beach this morning began with a leisurely breakfast of cereal, toast, and fruit while waiting for Blanca’s daughter, son-in-law, and grandson to arrive. During breakfast Xavier told me to walk over to Connie’s house to invite her along on our excursion and soon we were all piled into the back of their van on the way to the beach. At first the drive was entirely familiar from my many trips to the beach, though eventually we veered to the left, away from Progreso and towards the pueblo known as Chelem. I had no idea that we were going to a different beach, but was so excited to get a less touristy perspective. The drive was peppered with pastel colored homes behind fancy wrought iron gates and crumbling stucco walls labeled with the name of each residence. As with any beach town the names reflected a sense of whimsy and humor, some of which included the Crazy Mosquito, Villa Margarita, Butterfly, Angelfish, and Coco Loco.

Suddenly the van steered off the road and into a sandy lot, parking closely under the shade of a palm. We emerged from the car and crossed the sandy street to a local ceviche restaurant, which was also accompanied by an in-ground pool. Blanca told me we were having refreshments and in minutes we were served ceviche made with fish and octopus, fresh tortillas, and bean dip, along with a large bottle of Sol and glasses of lime juice with salt on the rim. It was my first chelada of the trip, but truly worth the wait. Blanca kept refilling my glass eventually replacing the lime and beer with just straight beer, which at that point I had already licked all the salt off the rim. Two other stops brought us to a fruit stand where they purchased bananas and oranges, and a convenience store where Coca Cola was added to the many snacks now packed for the beach.


We stayed on the main road out of Chelem and soon took a sharp right onto a sandy path edged by beach grass and houses in various stages of construction. The van stopped suddenly outside of a beautifully crafted set of wooden doors, which Blanca’s son-in-law unlocked to reveal an orange house with a huge sparkling pool in the front yard. Now I knew what she meant by eating lunch at the house. I had originally assumed that Xavier was simply joking at breakfast when he said we were going to a private beach, which meant clothing was optional. Still, I was quite glad to have my suit.


They unlocked the house to reveal a simple, but large interior which opened onto a back veranda with a large stone staircase onto the very beach itself, which was indeed completely void of inhabitants except for the gulls. We began our afternoon by relaxing in the gentle waves, Blanca even sporting her own bathing suit, hat, and foam noodle to float along in the turquoise waters. After our swim, Connie and I walked along the beach collecting shells ranging from small conchs to pretty purplish angel wings. Blanca prepared chicken tacos for lunch with pickled onions and tomato, which was followed by an afternoon siesta. Her daughter retired to one of the bedrooms with her young son, while Blanca hung hammocks in the living room with the double doors open overlooking the ocean and the refreshing breeze drifting constantly through the open windows and doors.

As I crawled into my hammock something felt terribly wrong and mere moments later, as if in slow motion, it careened to the floor. Since I was only a few inches above the ground I went unharmed, just disappointed that I missed my one and only opportunity to use the phrase, “Aantenex’e tin lúubul ti’ k’áan,” or “Help me I am falling out of my hammock.” We had discussed in class the uselessness of the dialogues that we learn as students of Yucatec Maya, mainly because the phrases seem quite inadequate in our present situation, though at last one line may have proven itself useful today. Upon our return home I could no longer remember my purpose in Yucatan and felt like I had had a miniature vacation for my mind and soul. Tomorrow is the start of week three and only five days until Tim arrives.