Category Archives: Inspired

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Travel Warning – British Columbia, Canada

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, Nada que Ver, Politics, , ,

The Mexican Tourism Counter-Propaganda Council is advising travelers from this country to avoid travel to Canada and British Columbia in particular due to the increasing risk of physical harm and possible death from overly aggressive police forces in the province.

Arbitrary beatings, kicking and assault on defenseless victims by the so-called keepers of the peace have left a rather negative impression on tourists coming to this once-peaceful country. Among recent cases is that of British Columbia resident Jeremy Packer was ordered out of his truck and repeatedly punched as he tried to exit the vehicle, for no apparent reason.

And who can forget Robert Dziekanski, who, in a state of addled confusion at Vancouver airport was tasered to death by Vancouver police.

In light of this increasing incidence of violence reported (http://www.cbc.ca/canada/british-columbia/story/2011/01/21/bc-excessive-force-police-gordon.html) along with abuse by “cowboy” police officers, the MTCPC is recommending potential travelers to this violence-torn region of Canada reevaluate all travel to that country, until the situation returns to normal and/or stability is restored.

Hey Dad, there’s a spider on your back…

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Reading Claudette Elizondos account on FaceBook of how her backyard was invaded recently by a host of locusts, known locally as langostas, I was reminded of the time I came home with my daughters and, after parking in the garage, unlocking the door and walking into the kitchen, daughter 1 casually announced “Hey Dad, there’s a spider on your back”.

“So swipe it off” I reply, equally casual, making a swiping movement in the air to demonstrate the technique.

“It’s a big spider” replies my observant and not-to-be-ruffled daughter, who evidently has ice in her veins. “I don’t want to touch it” she adds. Daughter 2 looks on in disgust.

Now I am starting to wonder what the hell is crawling around on my back.

I take a spatula from that ceramic pot where we keep our utensils. “Here, use this” I say, handing it to her. She looks hesitant and I raise my voice. “Knock the spider off my back, OK?”

She takes a moment and then, in one swing, manages to dislodge what I can now see is a rather huge tarantula that lands on the kitchen floor with what I am sure is a thud, although it could have been my imagination firing away upon registering the size of the black hairy beast.

Without much ado, and thankful that here in Merida we don’t have that North American habit of removing our shoes upon entering our house, I quickly stomp on it and the spiders life comes to an abrupt, squishy end.

“Yuck” say my daughters.

I thank her and go off in search of a broom.

Things to look forward to as I age (can’t wait)

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While this particular blog entry has absolutely nothing to do with Life in Merida from the Neurotic Foregners POV, the aging process is, nevertheless, a universal topic among members of my social circle and one with which I becoming increasingly familiar.

I look forward to becoming technologically impaired; that decisive moment when I decide that whatever technology is ‘new’ and therefore incomprehensible to me and just dismiss it as ‘stupid’ is a moment that will inevitably come, especially given the grade of neurosis I already posess. The new ‘FaceBook’ of the future will seem to me to be an invasion of privacy and just ridiculous and I won’t be able to figure out what the hell it’s good for, if anything. I will refuse to engage in conversation with my offspring, who will attempt to convince me of the benefits of adopting the new technology, that I have nothing to fear, that it is a good way to see what the grandchildren are up to. My derision will be accompanied by much shaking of my grey-haired head and moving my right hand from an over the shoulder and near my right ear position to a below the waist position (with an open palm, facing downward). These two actions will be taken while walking away from the person I am supposedly having a conversation with.

I look forward to not comprehending the significance of the future version of the CC button on the future equivalent of emails. I will complain therefore, in my self-pitying way, that it is craaaazy that people cannot communicate with each other normally and that I don’t understand if I just sent an email to one person that all the others didn’t get the message. I will not see that adding another email address in the future equivalent of the “TO” field on an email is not really that difficult and that I don’t have to go out in the winter cold, chop down a tree, put up a satellite dish and install another computer to send several emails at once.

I also look forward to forgetting how to spell my offsprings or their significant others names. To me, it’s all the same and I won’t understand the fuss and how could that tiny triviality possibly be any indicator of the depth of my feelings for that person or the significant other in question. Why are they all so grumpy, I will ask myself.

I anticipate (and this is already happening) abhorring (is it one R or two?) social engagements where loud music and loud conversation at too-large tables result in me staring abjectly at the people across the table, with whom I am unable to communicate beyond the occasional raised eyebrow and shoulder movements resembling dejected shrugs. The volume will put me in a foul mood that only a hasty exit to a more quiet environment can remedy, thereby forfeiting my right, should I be in Merida, to the lukewarm catered meal served at midnight as a strategy to keep us old folks hostage beyond the time we would normally tolerate the assault on our nervous system.

I will cope with and accept the increasing limits that aging puts on my body, from the newly discovered impossibility of climbing on the roof to enter my home when I have forgotten the house key, to the pain in my finger joints when I try writing as a method of communication as opposed to a keyboard (which funnily enough produces no such irritation).

There are many more things I look forward to as I reach the ripe old age of a half-century, and many of those will be positive I am sure. But this morning, I felt compelled to write about some of the less-than-stellar moments that I can look forward to (and I haven’t even touched on the GI tract).

Happy 2011!

Puuc in Boots – Merida Winter Fashion

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I apologize for the cheesy title but it was as creative as I could get for the subject on my mind this morning: Boots.

Now that winter, such as it is, has come to the Yucatan, I have noticed (have you?) the predominance of boots as a footwear option in the fomerly white city. Everywhere you look, the girls and young women are moving from their traditional chanclas for casual wear and obviously foot-torturing stilletto heels to boots. Flat-soled boots, high heel stilletto boots, long boots, short boots, leather, suede and synthetic material boots, boots with tassles, multicolor boots and long black shiny ones that would serve a dominatrix well.

My Better Half, who stopped by Nine West the other day and observed that ‘everyone’ was trying on boots, says it is all about being fashionable in response to my comment that the boots seemed a little over the top considering that it is not particularly wet outside nor is there any snow on the ground that I have seen anyway.

Along with the boots come the sweaters, shawls and even fur (fake or real who can tell) tipped abrigos (coats) that make me sweat just looking at them. Sweat not because they are so sexy, but because they look too darn hot to be worn in Merida, let alone inside the mall.

I do enjoy the look of the boots though, even if it does seem superfluous. A form fitting pair of jeans and calf-high leather boots with heels will cause many to turn for a second glance and I admit I am not immune. My favorite combination seen this frigid winter season, has been a 20-something woman in a tshirt, sweater, knee-high boots and a pair of cutoff jeans. I don’t see this combo warding off cold temperatures any time soon, so I surmise that my Better Half’s observation is correct. It’s all about being in fashion.

I draw the line however, (and these I have seen as well this winter) at earmuffs.

Aeromexicos New Airline Security Brochure – Endless Fun!

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , , ,

When you find a brochure lying invitingly on an Aeromexico check-in counter at the Merida airport with the title “Security in Airport’s Program” and you have a penchant, as I do, to examine carefully the English texts in this country, you know you are in for a fabulous unintentional comedic treat and will pick it up for a closer look. Sure enough, the second title on the page, in larger letters was “Items and materials restricted for Carrying in Airport’s Sterile Areas and on board any Aircrafts”. Note the random capital letters, as if the writer thought ‘hmm there really should be some capital letters here, but where to put them?!’

Reading through the various prohibitions and restrictions, my interest was rewarded with several gems, some of which I will attempt to describe to you, dear reader(s) in the hopes that you will share my sense of awe and wonderment (and perhaps some indignation also?) at this callously sloppy yet very entertaining literary effort put out by the country’s only remaining major airline.

For starters, the cover indicates that the contents – in spite of being quite lengthy and extremely descriptive – are really not that complete and the list could be expanded to include other things at any time. This, in the business writing world, is known as CYA or Cover Your Ass. They express the concept through the help of their third grade teachers English thusly:

Items listed on this document are just some examples, the restrictions are not limited at this

Good to know that the information inside has already been discredited!

Inside the brochure things get very interesting indeed. All texts in italics are taken verbatim from the original – I have not made any of this up. To differentiate the things you can bring on the plane either in your carry-on or checked luggage, there is a handy graphic at the beginning of the list showing:

  1. a drawing of a piece of luggage and the text:  permitted only as checked in baggage
  2. a drawing of a little airplane and the text: permitted as checked in hand baggage
  3. a drawing of a red circle with a diagonal red line through it with the text: permitted as checked in hand baggage

First of all what is hand baggage? My guess is that it is carry-on luggage. Secondly, don’t those last two symbols have the same text?

Taking those symbols or drawings and their explicatory texts, you learn that ON AEROMEXICO FLIGHTS YOU CAN bring the following items on the plane as long as they are in your checked luggage aka ‘checked in baggage’:

Guns, wheel guns (what the hell is a wheel gun – is for shooting wheels?), rifles, shotguns, Bbguns…. and compressed air, cartridges

Axes, Knives, sport knives, stilotto Knives, cork blade knives, daggers….fencing weapons, machetes, axes, etc. Of special interest is the repetition of the axes concept; particularly useful if you are a Viking and have several of them to stow in your checked in baggage.

Other things you can put in your luggage on Aeromexico flights are:

Martial arts weapons (throwing ones or not) Or not.

Straight Razors

Crokscrews That’s right, Crokscrews. For when your Croks need screwing.

Harpoons Great if you’ve come down for a little golf, tequila and WHALING. You know there’s a lot of that going on.

Subcutaneous syringes and needles for people on board with the appropriate medicine People on board without the appropriate medicine please desist

Nail Removers (Maximum 100 ml per person or 3.4 oz) That’s some pretty strong liquid if it removes the entire nail and not just the nail polish! Also, is 100 ml per person or 100 ml per 3.4 oz? Confusing, somewhat.

There are more, but these are just some of the highlights of what you CAN take on the plane, in your luggage that goes in the cargo area.

If you are a terrorist, this should already be good news! But it gets better!! No more discomfort from hiding pesky explosives in your shoes! No more C4 rash in your crotch area from strapping explosives in  your underwear! In addition to the above items that, according to the brochure in my hand, you can stow in your luggage, Aeromexico allows you to bring on the plane with you (according to those previously mentioned symbols) the following, which should make your work easy for you:

Wet Batteries Just make sure you dry your batteries thoroughly before packing them. They make SUCH a mess.

Acids and Corrosive substances

Butane and Propane Gas

Gasoline and all other flammable liquids All of them. Bring them all.

Radioactive materials Got a Reactor at Home and want to bring it to Cancun? With Aeromexico it’s all good!

Matches

Traffic sparklers These sound so San Francisco but could be handy when trying to get the flight attendants attention.

Fireworks, all types of black powder, and any fire-making article OK Tarzan, that is pretty clear. Black powder. Fire-making article. Ugga.

Primers and detonators

and my personal favorite from this list:

Explosives and Hand Grenades

Now there are many more items on this comprehensive list, which is of course – as you recall – not complete and most assuredly has omissions and/or errors and therefore should not be taken in any way seriously.

Analysis

How can AeroMexico, as Mexicos only remaing major airline, come up with this sort of poorly redacted and translated drivel?  The spelling mistakes that any word processing programs spellchecker would catch; the completely indiscriminate use of capital letters which are sprinkled haphazardly throughout the text and catch your eye like the pink bits in a bowl of Alphabits cereal, and of course the horrendously awful translation, inexcusable in this day and age and more inexcusable for a company of this calibre.

Is it budget? Can it possibly be that the airline is cutting costs in its communications efforts? That this brochure, available in every Mexican airport at Aeromexico counters and read by I dare say thousands of English speaking people every single day (who are laughing) was seen as not so very important and so no effort was made to hire someone to professionally prepare this piece of information?

Is it an excess of confianza? Does Aeromexico feel so safe with Mexicana now out of the picture and with low friends in high places, that they could care less about doing this one right and from their view, at the top of a pile of rapidly decomposing laurels, they feel they couldn’t be bothered? And so they probably created a little company run by the cousin or some other relative of the guy in charge of getting this done and gave him the contract to produce the brochure because he studied English in Iowa in grade 10 and so he knows English and and and.

Or do they just not know any better? This one I can’t believe, sorry.

Results

A brochure like this one, will not change anyone’s life for the better or worse, except perhaps a cerebrally-challenged Taliban suicide bomber who happens to be in Mexico, happens to read English and was counting on taking his detonators, acids, and hand grenades aboard his next flight. Or perhaps Lars the Viking who finds his axes(s) not welcome in his suitcase despite what the brochure says after a great vacation of looting and pillaging in some Mexican village.

What it does do, yet again, is paint Mexicans in general (because an English speaking person reading this brochure will not think this is an Aeromexico problem; it’s all Mexicans) as either sloppy or illiterate. Maybe it’s the Mexican part of me that takes offense at such sloppiness, cohabiting with my Canadian part that finds it all amusing.

I think it is inexcusable to put out this kind of garbage in this day and age. With so many resources available in a globalized economy (internet, anyone?) you would think a company the size of Aeromexico would be able to come up with something professional that was attractive, informative and easy to read in addition to being well written and translated, for something as important as airport security.

Fun Merida Activities – The 9 PM Houston Flight Arrival Event

Inspired, Life in the Yucatan, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

For those of you constantly whining about how this or that is not the ‘real’ Merida as if all Yucatecans had to wear starched white clothing, clunky sandals and balance a tray with bottle and glasses on their heads for your amusement, here is another unreal Yucatecan activity that you too can participate in!

There are tried and true Merida traditions, like frijol con puerco on Mondays, visiting the family home en masse on Sundays, and spending the summer months at the beach, that you are probably quite aware of. But there are also newer, more modern traditions that you may not be aware of or that are being crafted in our lifetime, right now! One of these is the cultural event that occurs almost nightly at Merida’s airport.

Each night at the Manuel Cresencio Rejon airport (who the hell was that guy anyway) here in the formerly white city, around 9 PM, a crowd gathers at the arrivals gate to welcome the passengers arriving on the almost-daily Continental Airlines flight from Houston, USA.

It’s always a fine cross-section of Merida’s population with all the socioeconomic groups represented.Look carefully!

There are the well-off Meridanos from the clase acomodada, awaiting the arrival of a tia or tio or perhaps a student – mi primo – returning from a semester in the US where they went to study English with all the chicanos and instead learned to appreciate the value of their muchacha as well as the recreational qualities of marijuana. These folks gather in small groups, often based on age groups, because they know each other and ask ‘a quien vienes a buscar‘ which is then followed by a lengthy conversation on the life of the person they are waiting for. This is also a good time to catch up on local gossip once the initial conversation has reached a saturation point and/or flight 1842 is late landing on the tarmac.

Also present is some sort of gringo element in the form of a single man or perhaps a couple, who have come to pick up one of their kind who is coming to visit or stay for an extended period of time in their newly renovated house. These people, wearing garb that ranges from monied and downright elegant to scraggly shorts and a wrinkled guayabera topped off with Felix the Cat facial hair and a bedhead do, are often standing alone and will keep to themselves, even in the presence of other gringos unless of course they are on speaking terms in which case they will make light superficial conversation about life in “Centro”.

There is almost always a family or two of people who fit into neither category, gringo or clase acomodada, and who probably live in one of Merida’s “popular” neighborhoods, “popular” being the local term for the poor and low income people that make up the vast majority of the Yucatans population. These people do not mingle with the aforementioned clusters and arrive in large familial units complete with a gaggle of children accustomed to unusual bedtimes and often with an hipil-clad abuelita in tow.

A fun activity is to try matching the passengers escaping the baggage claim and semaforo area with the people waiting. One can get the occasional surprise when, for example, the low income family with the hipil-clad grandmother is the group that welcomes open-armedly the solitary gringo with one carry-on piece of luggage. Hugs and backslaps from the males, polite handshakes from the women and shy smiles from the many children accompany the lucky gringo (you should consider yourself lucky to get such an enthusiastic reception) to whatever form of transporation is waiting outside.

While enjoying this entertainment, I recommend getting a pretty awful cup of coffee which costs about half a minimum daily wage 😉 at the place next to Burger King, or perhaps ordering some hot french fries at BK itself so you can munch or sip while watching the goings-on.

Look around folks, and welcome to the real Merida.

Frijol con Puerco – A Monday Tradition

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Usually made on Mondays because it was “easy” to prepare, frijol con puerco is a true Yucatecan classic I have come to love.

There is the colorful, aromatic array of finely chopped condiments (above), with onions, radishes, limones and plenty of exotic cilantro; these are added to your plate according to your preferences. I’m not a huge fan of onion breath myself so I don’t put more than a teaspoons worth in mine.

Another selection of condiments offered included chopped cucumber, a first for me (below) and creamy avocado which of course helps to boost the dish’s already stratospheric calorie count.

In addition to the condiments there should be a fresh roasted tomato salsa as well as fire-toasted habanero chiles ground with the juice of freshly picked limones, preferably from the obligatory backyard tree.

Once it’s all mixed and prepared as you like it, roll up a hot tortilla, grab that spoon with the other hand and dig in.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Private Postrecito Brunch

Casual Restaurant Critic, Inspired, , , , , ,

Chef Alejandra Ponce at El Postrecito recently hosted a private brunch for her chef-y friends and the Casual Restaurant Critic and his Better Half were fortunate enough to be invited. The company was great and the food, as usual, inspired and scrumptious!

Photos: fresh strawberries with mint leaves in a light syrup flavored with spices: crispy salmon cakes.

Morning Musings

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When the power goes out, as it invariably does here in Merida, you are left with contemplating life without electricity, which we (or at least I) take for granted every day.

Making my morning coffee, I am lucky enough to have a little French press that makes coffee for one and a half; a perfect morning starting size for me, what Starbucks might call a venti. Also, like most Yucatecans, I use gas in my kitchen which facilitates the heating of the water for said coffee, coffee harvested from the highland plains of  Costco, sold under the brand name Gila and already ground and stored in my freezer.

Speaking of freezer – and fridge – these must be opened and shut quickly, so as to conserve whatever cold temperatures are inside because one never knows how long these power outages are going to last.

Having charged the laptop throughout the previous night, I am able to write this morning without the distraction of the internet, as the modem is powered, again, by electricity and that little WiFi icon on my screen is blocked by a bright red cross, kind of like one of those AIDS ribbons. As I am typing this, and this is so coincidental as to be downright weird, Microsoft Works (with ads) pops up an ad for National AIDS fund with, as luck would have it, a red ribbon.

For a few days now I wanted to write about some of the wildlife one can see in ones garden if one doesn’t opt for the popular method of slashing and burning all local vegetation on ones property in order to build ones house.  This morning is a good opportunity to do so.

Leaving local trees and plants like the dzidilche, jabin, chaka and even the spiny, twisty catzin, can reward you with a cornucopia of local fauna that will frequent your garden and make sitting at your kitchen window a National Geographic moment, without the ads.

Besides several species of local birds, most prominent among them the k’au, or grackle which delights in surrounding our homes indoor (open to the sky) patio and diving in to the dogs dish to scoop up dog food nuggets and taking them to the pool where they are dipped in water to soften them up before swallowing, there are a few larger animals as well. How the heck do they learn this complex physics concept of a liquid softening up something hard? I have probably mentioned this before so forgive me if I am repeating myself but these birds blow me away with their smarts!

Occasionally, herds (for lack of a better term and without the internet where shall I look to find the correct name) of squirrels invade the treetops, jumping from branch to branch, scurrying along the edge of the roof and leaping great distances to traverse the entire back yard in about 5 minutes, chattering loudly and excitedly. The tree branches rustle and bounce, the dog goes crazy trying to get at them and the show is over in a very short time indeed.

Two days ago, cleaning the leaves and debris tossed into the pool by Karl, the blowhard who didn’t stick around and made his way to Veracruz, I noticed a snake near the edge of the water. About a meter long, it was reddish brown and looked perfectly harmless. As I considered my options, it moved very quickly and sinuously into the pool itself and, head raised triumphantly, slithered-ly swam to the opposite end where it popped out without any effort and disappeared under some rocks. I think about the times I have swum in the pool at night, in the dark without a care in the world.

Yesterday, sitting in this very kitchen and typing on this very computer, a movement caught my eye. Straight ahead of me, perched vertically on the bougainvillea trunk beside the kitchen window, was a very large iguana, dressed in a shade of gray (as usual) and bright green (very unusual) as it had been sitting in the bright green branches above. As I looked around for a camera, it continued downwards and made it’s hip-wiggling way across the lawn to yet another set of rocks where it vanished.

The power has returned and the silence has been broken by the hum of fans, motors, compressors and the neighbors mozo vacuuming their vehicles. The good news for me is that I can upload this post as well as take a shower and get on with my day.

Have a great Sunday, everyone!

How Mexicana Changed My Travel Plans

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Because people asked.

So there I was, happily esconced at a friends place in Vancouver, enjoying the cool, sunny weather of a British Columbia fall, when I got the news that Mexicana went from the suspending a few flights (Vancouver-Houston had been un-affected up to this point) to a complete shut-down, due to, as their website blurb pointed out, a failure in reaching agreements with certain sectors (nudge nudge wink wink; read unions).

I returned my rental vehicle to the Vancouver airport on September 2, as scheduled and looked for the lonely Mexicana counter, tucked in forlornly among the myriad Cathay Pacific and China Air counters, where I found about 4 people standing around, all Mexicans, waiting on someone to help them. When asked, the Vancouver airport information desk person stated that she had received word that no one would be in from Mexicana that day but, the Mexican in me said, let’s go have a coffee and think about this and someone will probably show up. And they did.

Two non-uniformed employees of Mexicana, who make up the backbone of the airlines operations in Vancouver I was told later, helped the 4 Mexicans get flights home via Air Canada and American Airlines, who were the only companies helping Mexicana out. When it came to my turn, I was informed that there was an option via Air Canada but that would mean flying to Toronto and then on to Mexico somewhere. Toronto! Flying across the continent was not appealing to me at all and I mentioned that I was in no rush (it was still sunny in Vancouver after all) and so I got a voucher for American Airlines to fly Vancouver-Dallas/Ft Worth-Mexico City on September 4, 2 days later. I was to be at the airport at 8:30, 3 hours before the flight. OK. I went back to my friends place to enjoythe sun.

On September 4, I arrived at 9:00 AM at the American Airlines counter to find it closed. What? Asking again at the information desk, the nice lady told me that the flight had already left at 10:00. Now I was confused. Had it left early or what? There was no time on the travel voucher given to me and so I trundled off with my very overstuffed, overweight luggage to the Mexicana counter which, this time, was closed. After considering my dilemma, I asked the nice folks at China Air where the Mexicana people were and was told that no, they were not coming in today but did I know that they had an office right behind the counters, just over there? No, I did not. In I went, luggage in tow and found the man who had helped me on September 2.

“Que le paso?” he exclaimed upon seeing me again.

I explained and he said no, no, no, he had told me that the FLIGHT was at 8:30 AM and to be 3 hours before that. Obviously I had misunderstood him and MISSED MY FLIGHT.

Was there another option, I asked. No, we are quickly running out of alternatives and even Air Canada has pulled the plug on us. You will have to go to American Airlines and see if they can accommodate you on another flight using that voucher.

Off I go to American Airlines to see what they can do. After standing in line for a while (they were checking in their afternoon flight now) the counter lady tells me “Well, that voucher is good for 24 hours only and today is completely booked and it looks like tomorrow is as well”.

Mussing my hair up discreetly, I tell her that I am really getting exhausted from sleeping at the airport and could she please pretty please check again, I would really appreciate it. Lo and behold, a spot comes up and she tells me to come back tomorrow at 10:45 AM to check in for their 2:05 PM flight to Dallas and then on to DF. After making her repeat the time I needed to be there about seventeen times I get on my knees and thank her. Not really, but I was extremely grateful and told her so.

On September 5, my dear friend once again drove me to the airport,luggage and all and this time I was first in line at the American Airlines counter at 10:00 AM sharp. At 11:00 AM, there were many folks behind me, all coming from the Alaska cruise (which departs from Vancouver) and all with some sort of respiratory infection they caught on the ship. Another reason to stay away from cruiseships, I thought.

The counter person, to whom I explained my sad (sort of) situation (again) took pity on me and did not charge the $100 USD overweight baggage charge, saying only that he would tag it as ‘heavy’ and that I had been through enough grief. The truth is that I had not really been at all stressed; what with no where to go, no where to be and a very comfortable bed at my friends place and did I mention that it had been sunny up to that point? Nevertheless, I appreciated the gesture greatly since it left some room on the credit card which I immediately put to good use in the fancy-pants restaurant and my long-suffering friend and I had a great breakfast.

Once on the plane, aisle seat, emergency exit with lots of leg room (!) I texted home to say I was finally on my way.

In Dallas, a two hour layover allowed me to sample Cousins Barbeque before getting back on the plane to DF. I missed the free WiFi that Vancouver International Airport offers it’s visitors however; call it socialism, you Republican freaks of nature, but it is very comforting to be able to communicate with loved ones from the airport and is just a NICE gesture. In Dallas/Ft Worth, no free WiFi thank you very much.

Finally, after bumping along for 2 hours or so in the midst of a cloud bank that never went away, the plane touched down in Mexico City. Mexicana of course had no one at their counters since it was after midnite and so I checked into the hotel across the way, the Camino Real with the intention of heading over first thing in the morning to see about getting to Merida.

At 7:30 I was talking to a Mexicana rep who told me that there was nothing they could do for me and to go to Aeromexico, who were offering a special rate for passengers affected by the Mexicana debacle. The Aeromexico counter person informed me that no, there was nothing going to Merida that had any space on it. What about Cancun, I asked hopefully, crossing my fingers. Yes, there was a flight at 8:30 AM and I could go on that. Do it, I said.

Rushed back to the hotel, combed my hair, got the luggage, and checked out. Terminal 2 was quite a hike the receptionist informed me – would I like to take the shuttle? It was standing outside, ready to go. OK.

Arriving at Terminal 2, a spectacular new building, I rushed to the gate. The wheelchair person (all the ticket checkers at the entrance to the secured areas are in wheelchairs it seems) asks me “Are you planning to take that suitcase on board?” Shit! With time running out, I race back to the check in counter where I find a long lineup for Aeromexico flights. I will never make this, I think to myself and text home saying that I may be coming home soon but then again, maybe not. Suddenly, an announcement comes over the PA system indicating that passengers on the Cancun flight are to report to a special window set up just for them as the flight is about to begin boarding. Rushing over, I am helped quickly enough, only I need to get in this other line-up to pay for the grossly overweight luggage I plan to take with me. Once this is done, I am issued a boarding pass and run back to my wheelchair friends who look me over and wave me through.

As I arrive at the gate, the boarding announcement is made and once I am actually on the plane, I phone home to say that yes, I will be getting there – almost – soon. Almost because I will be arriving in Cancun, not Merida. Aisle seat, emergency exit, lots of leg room. Coincidence? Who knows.

In Cancun, I am assaulted by the humidity and heat as I drag myself and my luggage outside to consider my next move. There is the ADO bus to Merida which is comfy but which means I need to move my heavy junk to the shuttle to downtown and then negotiate the lines downtown to get my Merida ticket. OR, I could take the ADO shuttle from the airport itself which goes straight to Altabrisa mall in Merida. I decide on the latter. I will be taking the Sprinter, I am informed upon paying my 450 pesos or so, in cash: thankfully I have saved a $500 peso bill for whatever reason.

Now I understood that the Sprinter meant the actual Sprinter, a small bus made by Renault, Peugeot or one of those French companies that is actually called a Sprinter. Alas, no such animal awaited me; rather it was a Nissan Urvan van, which seats 2 comfortably and 9 really uncomfortably. On this trip there were 11 of us, not counting the driver. “But you will stop in Valladolid”, the fellow at the airport says “for a bathroom stop”. I look forward to having a Donia Tere taco and a decent coffee at the Italian Coffee location on the way, as I accommodate my knees up around my ears and settle in.

The driver, unfortunately has no such plans and two hours later zips by the Isla de Servicios on the way to Merida. I wistfully look back at Donia Tere and hunker down for another hour and a half of this fun ride.

Finally, I arrive at the Altabrisa ADO mini-station where the driver pops the trunk and leaves us. We are to unload the luggage ourselves which we do, rather stiffly, in the wet heat of a sunny Merida afternoon.

We are home.