The Mayans are a peaceful people, unlike the Aztecs

I've returned neither with my sword nor on it.  I had no need of either on the Mayan Riviera; the Mayans are a peaceful people, unlike the Aztecs. That was the leitmotif, at times more heavy than light, of our guide on the trip to Coba, the site of Mayan ruins, including a pretty high pyramid.  Everyone I talked with on the tour agreed that he was the best guide we had ever had.  Only I knew; however, that he was the Mayan Bill Couch.  There must be an ideal Couch, and I have now met 2 of the shadows walking the earth at this moment in time.  He looked like Bill, the same Buddha body but with skin a bit darker than Bill's when he's really tanned; taught like Bill, committed to his subject and full of information, funny at times, a bit long winded at others but impossible to ignore and acted like Bill, jumping in to drum with the musicians in the Mayan house and serve with the waiters at the restaurant where we ate the Mayan chicken that he had described so enthusiastically at 9:30a.m. and we didn't sit down to until 3:00p.m.  It was such a crazy experience that I finally had to tell him how much he made me think of my husband's friend.  He just squinted up his eyes and gave me an expression I'm sure I've seen on Bill's face.  Then he went on to repeat that the Mayans are a peaceful people whose whole culture is based on water and corn, not like the warrior Aztecs whose rituals all revolve around blood.  It was a great tour that took all day and involved visiting a Mayan village; swimming in a cenote, a limestone cave full of fresh water,  and climbing a pyramid.  If I had had eyes in the back of my head, I never would have done the latter, but I don't.  I went right up without looking back.  I was a bit hot and winded when I got to the top, but what took my breath away and made my legs wobble was turning around.  I had to sit down for a full 5 minutes to regain my composure.  I took some pictures just to prove I had done it and then carefully approached the edge and went all the way down on my bum.

That was the only tour I took.  For the rest of the time I rented bikes and rode around the area and into the town of Playa del Carmen.  The girl in charge of bikes, if you can imagine anyone being in charge of such a sorry collection, was a hoot.  She was made up as if she were going to a cotillion, with eyelashes so curled and mascaraed they looked painful, but she was helpful and funny.  She called them 'bicicletas mexicanas, feas,' and did her best to help me find the least ugly of the bunch.  It was hard to do because  every part that should have been chrome was rust.  And of course they had no gears, but the Yucatan is as flat as Holland.  Perhaps that explains why there were so many Dutch people both on my plane down and at the hotel.

One of the most pleasant couples I met all week was partly Dutch.  Their table was beside mine in the buffet restaurant on the first night.  Being 'sola', I was doing what I'm getting better at I hope, looking composed and appearing to be quite happy to be alone while listening to and watching everyone within the range of my senses.  He looked Oriental but he sounded Dutch.  I knew that throaty guttural sound; I'd been listening to it since before our plane took off in Calgary.  Finally, I just leaned over a bit and said, " May I ask a stupid question?"  "Are you Dutch?"  He laughed and said, "Yes."  And so began our first conversation.  He was born in Korea but knows nothing about it because he was orphaned and almost immediately adopted by a Dutch couple.  He has lived all his life in Holland.  His wife is Italian.  They met while travelling, married and now have a son, Noel, who was born just before Christmas last year.  They both spoke English, she better than he, so we met and talked quite a few times after that, about Jay's teaching in Korea; travelling; the tensions between the two Koreas at the moment; juggling jobs and kids and about having a child rather late in life, they were both 35, about the same age Jim and I were when we had Jay,which seemed old to us at the time but looks young now.  I had my last dinner at the hotel with them and another couple that we both knew.  This couple also shared a Korean connection.  They live in  Sparwood, B.C. and their son married a Korean woman, so they have a grandson that looks a lot like Noel.

In the evenings, I usually went to the bar to sip a white Russian, and there I talked with a pretty hard drinking couple from Calgary who were travelling with their four children, ranging in age from sixteen to ten.  The gang was often all there and the bartender was a really funny guy who kept us all entertained with tricks and concocted for the kids some of the sweetest drinks using chocolate, red syrup and whipped cream that I have ever seen.  He made pretty good white Russians too, and sometimes I took a second one back to my room to drink as I watched CNN en espanol.

 I spent much of the time on my own, swimming in the ocean, reading, watching CNN en espanole, riding Mexican bikes and walking.  I walked in to Playa del Carmen twice to have lunch with Ina and Ted.  It was really good to know at least 2 people in the area.  On my second last day, after lunch, Ina and I went shopping.  She's as good as Jim used to be at pointing out things that might look good on me but that I would have walked right by in an effort to get back out on the street.  We had fun and got some real deals.

Getting together with Joanne in Calgary to sip wine, eat and have a chat was a very good way of beginning and ending the trip.  Bert met me at the airport when I arrived in Kelowna last night, and he and Peg and I had wine, dinner and a talk.  I'm now at home in their place 'putting the ducks in order', as Jim used to say and preparing to drive to Victoria next Thursday for Christmas with mom and dad and Barbara and Terry.