swans sculpted from towels

swans sculpted from towels

by the young boy who mops floors,

smiling shyly

On the first day of our stay in Hotel Alhambra, we are greeted with an intricate sculpture made of bath towels, hand towels and wash cloths laid out like a white hibiscus at the foot of our bed. As usual, whenever I see anything beautiful, I take a photograph. 
          The next day, when we return from our outing to Isla Mujeres, we find an even more elaborate towel sculpture, in the shape of a swan with a red hibiscus tucked in its breast. We are reluctant to destroy the sculpture in order to use the fresh towels. How on earth did the artist, who must be the person cleaning our room and changing the sheets and towels, manage to get the swan's neck to stay upright with that graceful curve? Curious as to how it was constructed, I carefully take the swan apart and then try to reconstruct it, but to no avail. A little sign by our water pitcher says that our room is being cleaned by Rebeca, so she must be the secret artist. 
          The following day, we leave the coconut I bought on the island along with a note, written with the help of the man at the desk: "Muchas gracias por el cisne, Rebeca. Está muy hermoso. El coco es para usted." After we return from our trip to Tulum, we find not one but two swans, their heads touching, the arch of their necks forming a heart shape. Nestled between their breasts are a yellow gladiola, a white gardenia and a note with a smiley face: "Disculpen pero no soy Rebeca sino Ricardo. Disfruten su estancia. Gracias." We show the note to our Spanish-speaking friends and they translate: "Pardon, I am not Rebeca but Ricardo. Enjoy your stay. Thanks." So our "secret admirer" is a guy, not a gal. How is he going to top two swans? And how can we top the coconut?
          The next day is a rest day. Before we go out to explore the town, we make a clumsy version of sheet and pillow art: three pillows in a pyramid, the sheets as twin sphinxes and an artistic mimosa pod in the middle with another note: "Nos gusta muchismo! Maraviloso! Usted está artista!" When we leave, there's a pile of sheets on the table outside our room and the young boy with the spiked hairdo is mopping the stairs. We've seen him every day, busily mopping and cleaning. "Ricardo?" I say, and he smiles shyly. When we come back, we find a dove with a green branch in its mouth. This young boy with the hidden talent, mopping floors! You just never know.
          Here is another mystery. None of the other members of our group are being graced with Ricardo's towel sculptures. Why us? We are not newlyweds. We are not a pair of pretty young girls. Perhaps it's because, from the first day, we always took the time to greet him with a smile.
          Another day there's a white elephant, its trunk curved up, and finally, on the last day, a "family" of two adults and a child, each holding a red hibiscus and a small seashell. We like to think this represents the two of us with Ricardo, who has become like our son. We leave him an extra big tip, along with my photographs of his towel sculptures and our hopes that he have a long life filled with beauty.

Paz para todos

Paz para todos

Amor para todos

Luz para todos

On our first night in Playa del Carmen, we wander out to experience night life in this seaside resort on the coast of the Yucatán. The message above the door of Hotel Alhambra says, in Spanish and English, "Peace to all, Love to all, Light to all." The trunks of the palm trees, wrapped in cords of light, glow softly. Their reflections in the large windows of the hotel across the street appear to hover inside, doubling the light.

peeking through the rainbow

peeking through the rainbow

of a handwoven hammock,

beautiful dark eyes

When I was 8 our family made a road trip to central Mexico. It was the first time I had been to another country and it made a deep and lasting impression: handmade tortillas, handmade dolls, handmade silver jewelry and handmade hammocks. We brought a wide white hammock back with us and it hung swinging between two trees in our backyard for many happy summers.

In March this year I travel to the Yucatán for the first time. This is the home of Mexican hammocks and they are still handwoven. Hammocks in rainbow colors and pristine white hang in gracefull curves along the pedestrian streets of Playa del Carmen, a seaside resort, in a little shop in Nohoch Nah Chiich, a Maya village way back in the jungle, in a hammock haven in Xel Ha, a popular water park, and in every Maya home throughout the Yucatán.

Hammocks were not part of Classic Maya civilization, but are thought to have arrived in the Yucatán from the Caribbean some two hundred years before the Spanish.

Originally made of bark and sisal, today they are woven from cotton or synthetic thread. Woven by hand on looms, by men, women and children, the quality of the hammock depends on the number of threads used.

Hammocks are used for sitting, sleeping, rocking infants (and adults), as in this hammock haven at Xel Ha.

And sometimes they're great for just fooling around!

raw shrimp with lime juice

raw shrimp with lime juice,

red onion, chili peppers, 

avocado, mango

Dinner at a pizza restaurant with a band from Bolivia, who play three songs from Chile for our Chilean twins. Because we're in Mexico, I don't want to eat pizza. Ceviche, a regional Mexican dish, is on the menu, but I also don't want to get food poisoning from eating raw seafood. I ask Gabe if it's safe to order the ceviche camarón and he assures me that the shrimp is fresh. 

          Ceviche, popular along all the coasts in Central and South America, is raw fish or seafood marinated in citrus juice. My shrimp is marinated in lime juice, liberally spiced with chili peppers and red onions, and topped with avocado. I order fresh mango juice to tone down the hot spices. The combination is as beautiful to the eye as it is delicious to the taste.

clinking his pesos

clinking his pesos

a Maya shoeshine man waits 
for scuffed zapatos

On our way back from Chichen Itza we stop at the plaza central in Mérida, the capital of the state of Yucatán in Mexico. Spanish conquistadors built Mérida on the site of the centuries-old Maya city of T'ho or Ichkanzihó, "city of five hills (pyramids)." Because of its long history, Mérida may be the oldest continually occupied city in the Americas. 

           Mérida was named for the Spanish city of the same name. The colonial builders incorporated carved stones from T'ho into their buildings, including the main cathedral across from the plaza central. In colonial times the city was surrounded by a wall to protect the citizens from revolts by the indigenous Maya. Today, ironically, Mérida has the highest percentage of indigenous people of any city in Mexico.

           

          Around the plaza, buhoneros wait patiently with their braided belts, balloons, handmade hammocks and food carts for touristas to purchase their wares or get their shoes polished. 

This is their ancient home. They have all the time in the world.

a brown pelican

a brown pelican

preening on the dock lifts her

long neck to the sun

Brown Pelicans are common all along the Yucatán coast, often perched on a post or diving into the turquoise water for fish. While waiting for the ferry on Cozumel island, I watch a female on the dock preening her feathers, lifting her long neck and opening her long beak, as if she's serenading the sun. Under the dock, a white-headed male paddles around, dives for a fish, then gulps it down. These sea birds are so large, I am amazed that they can lift their bodies up into the air, but they do fly, usually low over the water, often in single file like a line of bombers. When they spot a fish, they dive, folding their wings and hitting the water beak first with a huge splash. 

flying upside down

flying upside down

Voladores de Papantla

worship the sun god

We're sitting on the top row of a little amphitheater in Xcaret, waiting for the show to begin. Xcaret, which means "small inlet" in Maya, is an eco-archeological theme park on the Yucatán Riviera that combines elements of Disney World with National Geographic. This afternoon we've joined a small crowd to watch Voladores de Papantla, "flyers of Papantla," perform a ceremony to the sun god. Four of the men, the flyers, represent the elements of earth, air, fire and water, while the fifth man represents the unifying element of space. 

         
          The men, dressed in colorful costumes and playing traditional rattles, drums and flute, march in a row into the open space below a large pole 30 meters (almost 100 feet) high and as big around as two men, set in a wide stone foundation. They dance around the pole, shaking rattles. 

          One of the men plays a small wooden flute held in his left hand along with a small drum, which he is beating with his right hand.
        

          
          One by one they begin to climb the pole, placing their feet on narrow foot rests set on alternate sides and grasping a thick yellow rope that's wrapped around the poles at intervals. 

          
          As each one reaches the top, he sits on a narrow bar forming one of the four sides of an open square painted red, green and white. They hang onto the bar, their legs dangling down.

          The fifth man mounts a conical spindle in the middle, wrapped round and round with the yellow cable. He wraps his legs around the spindle, leaving his hands free for his musical instruments. The four flyers begin leaning out and throwing their weight to one side, causing the platform to rotate, while the musician, perched on top and hunched over like an eagle, plays his flute and drum.

          Suddenly the four flyers simultaneously lean all the way back and drop upside down off the platform, arms spread wide, the ribbons on their headdress streaming behind them. Each flyer is suspended only by a yellow rope looped around the body. One foot is hooked around the rope while the other foot hangs free. 

          While the musician continues to play, I find myself holding my breath as the flyers slowly descend, circling wider and wider until they near the ground. Then, like the acrobats they are, they miraculously right themselves to land on their feet.

          But what about the musician in the eagle's nest? While one of flyers holds his rope at an angle from the pole, the musician lowers himself down the cable. I finally start breathing when he reaches the ground and the crowd applauds.

          But they're not done yet. On one side of the area there is a low wooden windmill with four blades, painted red, green and white. The four flyers don their large solar headdresses and mount the four blades, hanging onto pegs. Again, they use their bodies to begin rotating the windmill, which rotates slowly. While the musician pipes and drums, each flyer moves from face up to head up to face down to head down. 

          Finally, they all dance around the windmill and then bow to the applause of the enchanted audience.

          Some of their colorful fringed scarves and headdresses, decorated with flowers, ribbons, rainbow fans and circular mirrors.

unfolding gangly

unfolding gangly

black limbs a spider monkey

stands fully erect

The little black ball of fur in the open enclosure at Xcaret is clearly a monkey. While I watch, he pops something in his mouth with his agile fingers. Then he begins to unfold like origami. First he comes to his hands and feet, his thin arms and legs elongating, and now he does look like a four-legged black spider. Then he starts to stand on two legs, bent over like an old man. Finally he stands fully upright, looking like a gangly teenager, peering over his shoulder. When I look at what he is looking at, a barefoot toddler is walking by. I imagine the spider monkey thinking, "Sure, she can walk on two feet, but can she swing through the trees?"

with rattles and drums

with rattles and drums

Maya musicians shake and beat

their pulsing rhythms

Like the ritual dancers at Xcaret, the Maya musicians are wearing paint, feathers and elaborate costumes. With their ancient musical instruments -- rattles and drums made from gourds, hollow tree trunks, wooden boxes, seeds and feathers -- the troop of musicians beat a mesmerizing rhythm for the masked dancers.

with paint and feathers

with paint and feathers

a man transforms from human

to spirit being

The climax of our visit to Xcaret in the evening is a cultural show on a mammoth scale, covering the entire history of the Yucatán. The costumes are fantastic, transforming ordinary humans into different beings. The masquerade is more than the donning of a mask and costume, more than playing a role. The person becomes the persona.