Delfines, Tortugas, Pez, y Amigos

When you sit on a beach on the Oaxacan coast, you quickly acquire the skill of saying, “no, gracias” politely and persistently. There are the ladies selling the empanadas, the men with twenty hammocks slung over their shoulders, the boy with the painted animal mobiles, the young and old with boxes and armfuls of cheap jewelry, the hippy woman with the handmade wire earrings, the man with the fake tattoos, the fisherman selling “lancha” (boat) tours, the eco tourism boy touting opportunities to release turtles into the ocean, and on and on. It is not that you never want the things being sold on the beach, but it feels like once you say yes, you will have to always say yes. And, beach time is sacred time, not shopping time. So, you get used to averting eye contact or smiling and saying “no, gracias.” Or, if they persist, as per Nikki’s suggestion, tell them you will think about it and come back, “voy a pensar y regresar.”

Last Monday, perhaps having a weak moment after a week by myself, a younger boy approached me. He had necklaces around his arms and a charming smile. Like usual, I said, “no, gracias,” but he was unstirred. He crouched down by my side and started talking with me in Spanish about life in Zipolite and school and where I was from. In that moment, I realized that talking with the sales reps on the beach was a great way to practice my Spanish. So I indulged. We talked for 30 minutes or so. When he went for the sell, I told him I would think about it and find him later. Then, Alex approached me about a lancha tour. This time, I welcomed the conversation. And, truthfully, I had been wanting to do a lancha tour, so I knew at the end of the conversation, I would be caving.  We too spoke for a while, ending the conversation with a 90% commitment that I would go on the boat tour the next day at 9:30. 90% only because I always travel with at least 10% of mistrust that things will actually be what they say they will be and that plans made are plans kept. When he found me later on, I went the full 100%, and gave him my deposit.

At 9:30am, he was there. Phew. So, I joined him and a Hungarian couple as we trudged across the beach to meet the other boat-goers. As we approached the meeting point, I recognized a young woman sitting there. Rewind three weeks…

I arrived in Mexico City at 6am on January 26th after my overnight plane from Chicago.  My flight from Mexico City to Oaxaca was not until 1pm. So, I slept, I wandered, I tried to make sense of my surroundings, I read, and I watched people. There was another woman who seemed to be following the same pattern as me. I watched her move around, find new places to get comfortable. She and I were the only two white women who seemed to be traveling alone from the Western world, clad with big backpacks and dorky shoes. I know we saw each other, but we both kept a healthy distance. For me, I was functioning on 5 hours of sleep, and just did not feel like I had the emotional energy to try and connect with someone. Eventually, it became clear that we were both on the same plane to Oaxaca, and at that point she broke down and said hello. I learned she was traveling from Australia and her boyfriend would be meeting her in two weeks to travel in Mexico and Guatemala. She told me about her love of trees and degree in ecology. I shared a bit about my life. We built a traveler’s bond for the trip and said bye in Oaxaca City.

Three weeks later, I am walking up to go on my boat tour in Zipolite, and there she sits. Upon recognition, we greeted each other like old friends who had an expansive shared history. Then, of course, we had to ask for the other’s name again. “Jen,” she said. She introduced me to her photographer boyfriend, Steve, and we set out on our boat adventure.

I have noticed that 40+ men in Mexico seem to really love me. I am not sure if it is the blue eyes or the dimples or just the fact that I am clearly traveling alone, but it seems wherever I go, my name is learned and I have many people looking out for me. The boat tour was no different. Alex told the taxi driver something specific to me. I know this because he pointed at me and said my name several times. When we got to the port, the guy in charge of handing out the life jackets already knew my name. And then, on the boat, the driver would randomly say my name and smile. Then, there was the family from Mexico city who was sharing our boat who invited me to join them for lunch at our rest stop. The dad bought me a corona and asked if I smoked weed. He immediately told me afterwards that he was a police officer in Mexico City. I am still not sure if that was a trap. His wife was spunky and I think she wanted to set me up with her brother. “Jessy,” she said, “Este noche, tomas tequila con nosotros?” She asked if I would drink tequila with them later on. I said maybe, knowing that I would likely be in bed before they began.

The group on the boat consisted of two guides, the family from Mexico City, an older couple from Canada, Jen and Steve, the Hungarian couple, and me. The boat tour began with a search for the tortugas and delfines. We first encountered a pack of dolphins, one even put on a little show. I have to admit, I shrieked with joy at the sight of them. Then, we found some massive sea turtles. As the boat crept up next to one, the guide jumped into the sea and grabbed it for a photo op, pulling at the heartstrings of Jen and my liberal ecological perspectives. But, the Mexican family loved it, jumping in as well and hugging the turtle for their photo. I tried to let go of any judgment I was feeling as I knew that this was the alternative to the past practice of hunting the turtles for their meat and skin.  Plus, I just saw dolphins and a huge sea turtle with my own eyes!

Look in the left hand corner...

After cruising a bit more, we went snorkeling. It was my first time ever snorkeling, and while the Australians informed me that there is much better snorkeling to be seen, my Midwestern brain was blown. Access to the underwater world of the Pacific ocean. I felt thrilled every time I found myself in a school of fish or eye-to-eye with a fish. I knew none of their names, so I renamed them. There was Blue electric, Silver angel, Salamander, Reddie, Yellowie, and Baby fish. The clicking sound of the deep water provided a perfect soundtrack to the experience. In my head, I was occasionally graced with the narration of David Attenborough (of Planet Earth fame), “To the naked eye, the ocean is a place of calm serenity, but when you go beneath a majestic world of both danger and peace is confronted…”

And no boat tour is complete without a cliff jump.

Me, Cliff Jumping

The tour was so fun, that we negotiated another one for later on in the week for just Jen, Steve, me, and a German friend we had made. We paid half the price and said we just wanted to go snorkeling. The driver gave us the cliff jump again for free.

For the past week, Jen, Steve (he is a photographer, click on his name to see his beautiful work), and I, became a bit of a unit. After spending the day on the boat together, they decided to move down to my hotel. Together, we ate crepes most mornings and taco dinners nearly every night (5 tacos for $2.00). While I had been enjoying my solitude, it was nice to connect with some friends. Jen had previously traveled for 8 months by herself in Latin America. Conversations with her fueled my reflection and understanding of this time. I feel oh so grateful they included me in what could have been their own romantic beach time. They have moved on to Chiapas as of Monday, but next time we meet, I am sure we will once again greet each other as old friends, and not have to remind each other of our names. That is another one of the great things about traveling. All I did was say yes to a man on the beach to go on a boat tour. And, because of that, I not only got to experience the vast ocean world, but also built a little community in Zipolite.

Jen balancing a Pineapple on her head, Zipolite