Less is More

           Right now I'm having anticipatory flash backs of standing at the counter of La Gloria Tortilleria, listening to the hum of the conveyor belts carrying golden disks of corn into the waiting warm ovens. The smiling senora behind the counter (whose name is unfortunately not flashing back) gives me a smile along with a stack of steaming tortillas.  She quickly wraps them in brown paper and takes my 10 pesos in her plastic-gloved hand.  I wrap my new treasure in my tortilla towel and stop to get my roasted chicken from Fannie right next door.
           She takes a hot chicken covered is achiote seasoning and cuts it into pieces with her scissors.  I always marvel how her little hands have the strength to cut through those chickens and their bones like she's cutting construction paper.  After exchanging happy "Como estas?" Fannie  also bags rice, beans, slaw and some hot sauce with my charcoal roasted chicken. She knows I prefer an extra bag of rice instead of the spaghetti they usually put in the bag and makes the substitution without me having to ask.  That is what I call service!  All I need next is an avocado from the little Mayan lady who sets up her card table of assorted produce  under a tree and a tarp on the other side of the road.  Now this is one stop shopping Mexico style.

           I can hardly wait 10 more days till I return to shopping in  Mexico. It has it's pros and cons.   But right now all I can seem to think about are the charms of buying venduras (vegetables) from Jelmy, who always makes sure I pick good pieces  and tucks a gift of some kind of fruit in my bag. Or Raphael, a couple stalls away, who always has the best selection of produce in the mercado.  Oh and how could I forget the fresh squeezed orange juice from Martivino. Grocery shopping in Mexico is an emotional experience of  textures, tastes, smells and smiles. It somehow makes pushing a cart at Super Walmart seem so hollow and mundane. Sometimes less is truly more.

Isla Mujeres - Here I come!

I am pulling out my suit cases for Mexico!!! My exile is in Missouri is coming to a close and I am gearing up emotionally for island life again. I can hardly wait. My enthusiasm is only dampened over concerns for my mother-in-law who is in fragile health. I'm hoping she'll get strong enough to come visit us. I am trying to convince her to join us on our precarious adventure. My husband thinks it would be too hard for her, but I hope when I am 78 I am doing such exploits! We will arrive on the island prior to high season and hustle to get everything perfect for the onslaught of guests. As usual I am stuffing suitcases with fresh linens, blow dryers, ipod dock alarm clocks, as well as, a few decorative pieces. There is no traveling light in this household.
I am looking forward to baking fresh bread for our guests and my cream cheese and coconut cinnamon rolls. In fact, my mouth is salivating in anticpation of a REAL mango. Somehow they never taste as good here in the States. And I can hardly wait to stride out into the ocean with my fins and snorkel gear in hand. My neighbors are the giant sting ray that is always lounging around my beach, or the cluster of parrot fish that live in caves near by. I can't wait to come a callin!

Marooned in Missouri

In case you are wondering why I have not had many posts lately. I am marooned on the mainland of Springfield, Missouri and have been here for 5 longggg months. Somebody rescue me please! My inspiration meter has been on zero, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I need to go back to Mexico and get away from this heat! Today I heard somewhere it was 110 degrees here. Walking across the Sam's parking lot was like walking across a bed of hot coals. On the other hand, my homepage said it was 89 in Cancun, but felt like 83. Now that really makes me sick - homesick that is! My only consolation is that we will soon be returning.

I am ready for ceviche, guacamole and tacos arrechera! I am ready to grab my fins and snorkel out into the blue Caribbean in my own backyard. I am ready for moonlight swims in the pool gazing up at the stars floating like a thousand diamonds above me. I am ready to greet mi hermanos with a besos (kiss) and a big "Dios te bendigo (God bless you.)" I even look forward to cranking up my old golf cart that is sometimes a pain to get going. My exile will soon be over, and I will return to island living. I can hardly wait!

Isla Mujeres - Island With a Soul

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It's Turtle Time!

photo by Michele Westmorland/Corbis

It 's turtle time on Isla Mujeres! These are some of my favorite months here. The winter winds and waves have long since died down, and the ocean becomes a placid turquoise paradise for snorkelers and underwater adventurers like myself.  The waters are often what the locals call a bonanza.  A bonanza is one of those days when the water is so clear and the surface so smooth that you drop whatever you're doing, grab your snorkel gear and explore!  July and August are also the height of the turtle nesting season. Turtles are more concentrated closer to shore as they nightly scour the sandy beaches in search of choice nesting ground. There are 6 species of turtles on the island, but the Loggerhead and Green turtle are the most common. 

       I have wonderful memories of midnight turtle watches with all of my children.  We still sit on the log behind our house, with our mug of coffee or hot chocolate and scan the moonlit surf for the familiar glowing eyeballs or the silhouette of a humped shell emerging from the water like a stealth submarine. In hushed whispers our excitement mounts as we spot a mother coming to shore to lay her clutch of a hundred or so eggs.  The next several hours are spent watching her dig holes here and there looking for just the right spot to hide her buried treasure.

 

        In years past these nests were often robbed of their eggs by island natives who considered the turtle eggs a delicacy.  Now thanks to the preservation efforts of the Isla Mujeres Turtle Sanctuary or the Tortugranja, many of these eggs survive to become hatchlings.  During this time of year almost all the sandy beaches are patrolled nightly by workers and volunteers of the sanctuary.  They guard the female turtles from undue harassment from over zealous observers and ask that no flashes by used with cameras to disturb the nesting mothers.  Once the turtles have made their grand deposit into their sandy beds, they return to the ocean  until next year's nesting season.  At which time they will return to the same beach to lay their young again.  Once the eggs are laid the turtle people, as I call them, collect the eggs and transport them to the sanctuary where they are incubated for 60 days, hatched and later released.  And oh what an occasion the turtle releases are!

 

      They are a favorite of the island children of all ages.  The turtle people bring huge vats of baby hatchlings and pass them out to the crowds of  children and adults who stand with tiny buckets waiting to be filled with these adorable creatures.  Then after much ooohhing and ahhhing the children gently place the baby turtles on the sand so they can scurry to the surf to begin their odyssey. The turtle people manage the crowd and chase off any four legged or winged prey that would try to make an afternoon snack out of the baby turtles. The Turtle sanctuary is located on the south part of the island called Sac Bajo. They are supported by the Mexican government and private funds.  For a small fee (30 pesos) you can see hatchlings at various stages of growth and maybe even participate in a release. 

Now is the perfect time to come to the island to see this wonder of nature. You'll find me with my coffee mug sitting on my log gazing out at that moonlit Caribbean.

Day Dreaming

I am back in the twilight zone of the U.S.A. biding my time until I can return to Mexico. I pass the time preparing for a garage sale (ugh, yuck, gag.)  We were watching American Pickers today, and I thought I should give them a call  to come to our house.  After buying artifacts from around the world for our store for  years, I must confess my house looks like a hoarder house - a luxury hoarder mind you. Sometimes I  imagine the liberation of selling it all and escaping to the island with my flip flops and Indian jewlery (a girl's got to have her accessories.)  Anyway I am sorting through my luxurious junk and all the non-essentials of life like 40 pairs of shoes and a closet jammed with clothes that I've had so long they are vintage.  I am thinking of my life on the island and all it's earthy, sweaty simplicity.  I miss buying my roasted chickens from Fannie, or trying to get to the marina to buy fish right off the boat.  I miss buying tortillas at La Gloria and chaya from Helmy.  I miss giving Armin jamaica (a hibiscus drink)  that he is too polite to say  is too strong.  I miss unexpected knocks on the door because no one uses a phone on the island.  I miss waving at people whom I've never met in my life.  (We're friendly.)  I miss the bright sunshine, the wind blowing off the ocean and the pelicans diving for their meals. I miss floating on my back looking at a starry moonlit sky. I miss, I miss, I miss - I guess I need to change my focus and look for the wonders around me now instead of day dreaming of life in Mexico. I remember getting in trouble in grade school for day dreaming and I don't really like biding my time either.  After all the fireflies are beginning to glow in the backyard, my daughter is bouncing around the living room chattering about Disneyland and the air smells of roses and honeysuckles.  Life has it's pleasures where ever I am.