Now I Walk in Beauty in Chacahua

Getting to the end of the world is not easy, but it is not exactly hard either. It just takes careful navigation of what from the outside may seem to be a complicated system, but from the inside is a highly organized flow of transportation. From Zipolite to Chacahua, it took 6 hours and 7 forms of transportation, but never once did I feel stressed or confused. I woke up at 6am in Zipolite. From Zipolite to the main highway, I took a collective taxi. On the main highway, I grabbed a bus to Puerto Escondido. In Puerto I met up with my friend Nikki and together we took a surbuan to Rio Grande. In Rio, a camioneta was waiting for us and took us on to the collective taxi stand halfway to the next town. There, he shuffled our stuff onto a taxi which took us to Zapatolito, the town on the interior edge of the laguna. We got there around 9:45, just as a boat full of surfers was returning to land. We learned that the place to eat in Chacahua was Franco y Janet’s place and the place to sleep was with Carlos. We also learned that the "swell" was moving on, so many surfers were as well. Nikki and I decided we could do without the swell, and waited the hour and a half necessary for the boat to take us in. The boat took us across the laguna, which resembles a mix of the Amazon and the boundary waters and is full of salt water. On the other side, another camioneta was waiting and drove us 20 minutes down a dirt road through the national park to a town called Chacahua. There may be a more efficient way, but this way, everyone got their cut, and the traveler gets an advIf I thought Mazunte and Zipolite were paradise, Chacahua is heaven on earth.

I will start with my only grievance. Rudolpho (Rudy), the rooster who lived in the yard next to our cabaña who begins crowing around 4am and never stops. Rudy is my least favorite part of Chacahua, even worse than the hour of mosquitoes that begins when the sunsets and takes you to dinner time. It is not just that Rudy crows. That would be enough, but it is the way he crows. Just when you are getting used to his crow’s rhythm and tone and using it to lull you back to sleep, he lets out one that sounds like he is choking on a gumball. Something like, “ROO-RA-ROO-A-DOOGARAGAGACA.” I have tried imagining it as the sound Rudy will make when I kill him, which I really feel the urge to do. I am trying to channel on the meditative practices I have learned on my journey to overcome that urge.

But, beyond that grievance, Chacahua has been not a detail short of amazing. The lack of internet and fancy hotels only adds to the majesty. The town is still a community that has not yet been shifted to completely cater to tourists. The men are fishermen. There is a community center that is more for the locals than tourists that hosted a lively gathering of youth and adults playing music together on Saturday night. The main beach is long and has something for everyone. A calm area to swim, big waves for surfers, solitude for skinny dipping if you go for a walk. The natural landscape is a combination of pristine beaches, mountains, and a saltwater lagoon full of mangrove trees and secret tunnels constructed by the fishermen. If you cross the lagoon to the “otro lado,” you get your very own beach. Nikki and I did a little bit of everything. The first day was spent settling in, the second with the beaches, the third with the lagoon. The entire trip felt like a constant bath of beauty. I caught myself drifting into a song I would sing with my friends in college, taught to us by my friend Rebecca. To be sung in rounds with hand movements and harmony:

Now I walk in beauty,

Beauty is before me,

Beauty is behind me,

Above and below me.

Day 2 looked like this...

Skinny Dipping, Chacahua

Surfers from the Point, Chacahua

Yoga, Otro Lado, Chacahua

Pacific Coast, Chacahua

This is Real, Chacahua

Music and Youth Development, Chacahua

Day 3 was the day with the Lagoon. The sign to Pavel’s place says, “Hostel, Menu 60, Kayaks, Mezcal” painted in white on drift wood as all the signs in Chacahua seem to be—that or on surf boards. When we inquired about kayak prices Friday night, he said it would be $150 pesos each for a half day or $250 pesos for a full day including kayaking, all our meals and a night time tour of the plankton. We did not consult long to decide to dive into the full day experience. At 8 am, we arrived to Pavel’s. As things go in Mexico, Pavel had not yet bought the ingredients for the breakfast, so together we went to the store. We proceeded to squeeze fresh orange juice while Julian and Celine, two Argentinians staying at Pavel's, played instruments from around the world. Pavel made delicious huevos Mexicana (scrambled eggs with onion, tomatoes, and jalapeños) with tortillas and coffee. Julian and Celine passed their mate gourd around and taught us proper mate etiquette. It was the kind of morning that truly gets you ready for the day. Like a good long stretch. After two hours of shopping, cooking, relaxing, it was time to head out to the kayaks.

Pavel's Place, Chacahua

Nikki making Orange Juice, Chacahua

Morning Music, Chacahua

When we got to his double kayak on the lagoon, we needed to take it to get his other one that he would be using, which naturally he had not collected together the night before. This gave us the opportunity to swim the kayak down the coast of the lagoon with snorkeling goggles on. In the swim, we passed giant blue fish with white polka dots, colorful striped fish, and little yellow ones. The water was clear and calm in the lagoon but still salt water. A pretty rare swimming experience. It turned out Pavel’s other kayak had been rented out. So, the three of us squeezed onto the two person kayak and were off on our adventure through the lagoon and mangrove trees. Really it is unlike any place I have ever been. The tunnels of the mangrove trees fulfilled my always present love of secret passageways. The fishermen have cut routes through the roots of the trees making magical tunnels of dripping roots and colorful crabs. We snaked our kayak through the tunnels, watching birds weave in and out, carefully attempting not to bump our heads and paddles against the elegant ambiance.

Pavel, Chacahua

Secret Tunnels, Chacahua

Our initial stop was at the spa of the laguna, an area of bubbling, gurgling water that smells strongly of sulphur. My first reaction was to get the hell out of there, but Pavel stepped off the boat, so it seemed we were staying. I carefully and daintitly stuck my foot in the muddy bottom and sank to my knees. Pavel demonstrated crawling like an alligator deeper into the bed. He rolled in it and covered his head. Nikki delighted in the pit of minerals. Quickly covering herself in it and wearing the contentment in a big smile. I, I tried to enjoy it. I remembered the big dirt patch in our backyard growing up that we used to fill with water and slip and slide into. How much fun it was to get dirty. Yet, as I held my breath, trying not to swallow the putrid smelling air, I was having trouble remembering that child. I have been enjoying a Dalai Llama quote lately that a fellow traveler imparted to me, “Be childlike, not childish.” If there was ever an opportunity to exercise my childlikeness, it was rolling in the mud in the laguna. So, little by little I surrendered to the experience and then I reveled in it. I made a facemask of mud. I pretended to eat it. I caked my arms and chest and massaged it into my knee imagining it had healing powers.

Mud Mask, Chacahua

After 30 minutes at the spa, we paddled around the laguna some more and then found our way back to Pavel's. There, we cooked octopus tacos from freshly caught octopus. Nikki and I chopped vegetables while watching the waves roll in and were schooled in how to cut an octopus and the proper order to combine the ingredients when sautéing them. Pavel was struggling with a minor or maybe major foot infection, but insisted we drink beers and relax. So, we did. We ate a feast right on the beach and then succumbed to the afternoon heat. We gathered out books in hand as we settled into our hammocks, but more as a guise for the real intention to sleep. After napping, we went back to the home of Pablo where we had left our stuff and boats to gear up for our nighttime adventure into the lagoon. Pablo was not there to give us our backpack which he had been storing there, but we were assured he would be back “ahorita”, in English the equivalent would be “a bit”, an arbitrary amount of time that means nothing. We decided to wait. His home is on the laguna and feels like art. He has designed the plants and buildings with attention to detail. You feel the specialness of each handmade shell wind chime. He later explained that he loves recycling and using trash for art. He has masterfully arranged blue sky vodka bottles around his garden as decorative elements. We sat in his hammock area that looks out over the laguna and just took in the beauty. It literally felt like the beauty was being showered upon us. I was moved to do some yoga, and get dirty once again. Why do we get so freaked out about getting dirty?

Laguna view, Chacahua

Wind Chime, Pablo's Place, Chacahua

Incredibly, the best was yet to come. Once the sunset and we made it through mosquito hour of hell, it was time to go back out. Pavel's infection was still a bit inflamed, so Pablo offered to take us out on his motor boat instead of kayaking. We were fine with this change as it was getting a bit cooler and it was quite dark. He took us out to the middle of the lagoon in an expansive place that appeared to have land on all sides. In the dark, the milk way subtley cloaked the sky. Below us, was another milky way. With every disturbance of the water, it lit up like flittering christmas lights. Pavel encouraged us to jump in and swim with the plankton. As we spun our bodies through the water, it was hard not to imagine we were mermaids in a fantasy land of magic spells and secret truths. When you splashed the water in the air, drops of light dripped down your face and arms. The water maintained the heat of the day allowing us to comfortably swirl with the plankton for what felt like hours but was probably more like minutes. On our way back to land, we watched the fish dart through the water creating streaks of moving light. And then, suddenly the fish started to jump everywhere around us. As if there was a big celebration under water that they just had to share. I was mesmerized by the electricity of the water, the jumping fish, the star-filled sky, and then... a fish jumped directly into our boat. Seriously. A keeper at that. Pablo and Pavel regaled in their luck of having so seemlessly caught dinner and joyously chanted, "otra, otra, otra," in hopes more fish would follow. 

Day 4 we woke up with the sun and Rudy's incessant crow. Ate a final breakfast at Franco and Janet's and reveled in the magic of the night before. We left with more to do. Dreams of playing music with the locals, learning to surf, learning the names and the calls of the birds. But, we left full. Full of gratitude. Full of vitality. Full of beauty.

Sunrise, main beach, Chacahua