Tag Archives: Spirituality

Huatulco

Celestún: Then and Now

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By Deborah Van Hoewyk

If you haven’t been to Celestún, you should go – and if you want an object lesson in how tourism can change a small fishing village, go twice, a couple of decades apart. (Not that Bahías de Huatulco doesn’t represent how tourism changes a place!)

Celestún is the head town of the municipio (basically, a county) of Celestún, in Yucatán state; it’s about 105 km (65 miles) west of Merida on the Gulf of Mexico. The Mexican Tourism Secretariat identified Celestún as a place to develop “low environmental impact” tourism, focused on the flamingo nesting sites in local lagoons.

Celestún Then – 2001

When the idea of wintering in Mexico first took hold, a friend’s father who spent his winters in San Miguel suggested that we could get a cheap charter flight to Cancún and explore the Yucatán.

We were neophytes at traveling in Mexico, our Spanish pre-beginner. Our previous, and only, trip had been in 1979, to Veracruz – where burros were staked out in the grassy sand dunes that stretched south to Boca del Rio, and to Jalapa, to visit my ex-pat friend teaching English at the University of Veracruz – pigs roamed the streets. Twenty years later, the sand dunes, the burros, and the pigs, not to mention the boat-up restaurant with drunken singers at lunchtime, were no more.

Going to Cancún, Getting Out of Cancún

The cheap charter was doable, so off we went. At the time, it was possible to book just the flight and not an attached vacation at some glass-towered hotel on the beach. Not interested in Cancún itself, we left the airport in our rental car and headed for Mérida, the capital of the state of Yucatán.

On the road into the centro, hubby John kept saying, “When is this street going to get better?” We clearly didn’t know then that most urban Mexican streets are crowded, dusty, noisy, frenetic. Right in the middle of it all, I said “We’re here!!!” Hopping out of the car and over to a blank but beautiful hardwood door, I entered the quiet lobby of the Dolores Alba hotel. The Dolores Alba displayed its colonial heritage in a lovely arched and beamed dining room replete with chirping bird cages. No street noise. Parking was through a bigger hardwood door next door, but of course John had to circle through chaotic one-way streets to get there.

Then as now, Mérida, and Progreso, north down the road to the beach, had much to offer: colorful Mexican markets, colonial architecture, outlandish beach architecture – some other story. We were bent on Celestún to see the flamingoes – in late winter, it is the largest nesting site in the world, with 25,000 to 35,000 flamingoes. Back then, what little information there was appeared in the Lonely Planet guide, Yucatán. And Celestún was definitely a Lonely Planet experience.

A Visit to Celestún

Driving from Mérida straight west on route 281, we crossed the bridge over a long, skinny lagoon, Riá Celestún, to “downtown” Celestún, located on the beach. A year earlier, in 2000, Mexico had declared the area a “biosphere reserve”; in 2004, UNESCO would make it an international biosphere reserve and the Ramsar Convention, an international wetlands preservation organization, would recognize it as being of international importance. None of this ecological significance was yet evident to visitors.

On the advice of our LP guide, we found a a hotel a block off the beach. Lunch was available on the beach – all you had to do was follow the giant black SUVs from Mérida churning their way through the “streets,” paths bulldozed through the sand. We also checked out how to visit the flamingoes, which entailed going down to the beach in the morning; when a given boat had enough passengers to make it worth their while, the voyage would begin.

By dinner time, the SUVs – and the restaurants – were gone. We drove hither and yon looking for food, ending up in a general store, where we found tinned sardinas, saladitas, and cervesa. Back at the hotel, we discovered that the only source of light to set up the sardine/saltine repast was a naked lightbulb about 8 feet up the wall. It did have a hanging string to turn it on and off.

The next morning, we went early to the zócalo, thinking surely there would be a restaurant. Not so much. Someone in the central market did offer coffee, which turned out to be Nescafé de olla – thinking Nescafe would be quick, I soon learned that, no, the de olla part is brewing it in a pot with a bit of brown sugar and cinnamon, and takes way more time than pouring boiling water over coffee granules. The time, however, allowed us to espy a turquoise door over in the far corner of the zócalo.

To which we proceeded after having our coffee, which was just enough time for the turquoise door to open and reveal a restaurant with a breakfast menu. “Oh, look,” I said, “Poffertjes!” Hubby is Dutch, and poffertjes are Dutch, wonderful little puffy buckwheat pancakes. My poffertje announcement caught the attention of the restaurant owners, a young couple from Delft in the Netherlands. They had come to Celestún a year before, promptly decided this was for them, went home for six months, sold everything they owned, and came back to open the restaurant with the turquoise door.

The Main Attraction: Flamingoes!

Full of poffertjes, we went back to the beach. No one was there yet, so we sat on a driftwood log. Eventually five other people showed up, that was enough, so we helped push the boat down to the waves and got on. I don’t recall that we had to wear life jackets. Not even sure that I recall life jackets at all!

From the beach, the boat captain found a tunnel cut through the mangroves to reach the lagoon. As we headed to where the flamingoes were supposed to be, he pointed out a crocodile perched on what appeared to be a log floating in front of the mangroves. Everyone rose up, sharply tilting the boat towards the water, to take pictures of the crocodillo. We continued on, until a faint coral line appeared along the far side of the lagoon – closer and closer until the line turned into thousands of flamingoes, heads down in the water, feasting on brine shrimp, tiny creatures that give the flamingoes their coral-pink colored feathers. It was an unforgettable sight.

After many, many (no doubt identical) flamingo photos, we set off on our return. The crocodillo was still there, turning lazily in the wind. Somehow the “log” looked more like a very large tire. When we coasted through tunnels hacked through the mangroves to reach our last stop, a petrified forest, I had enough Spanish to ask whether the crocodillo was muerto, and yes indeed it was dead as a doornail. Sort of a home-grown tourist attraction, although I didn’t have enough Spanish to ask how they stuffed it.

On our way back to Cancún (via Chichen Itza), we first went along what’s now called North Beach to inspect a beach house my sister had seen for rent. It was right on the beach, and we filed it away for future reference.

Celestún Later – 2020

We never did rent the two-bedroom beachfront villa, but we did go back to Mérida (the Dolores Alba now has a large swimming pool where the dining room was, and is called “Doralba” – but still lovely and quiet), and again on to Celestún. Mérida is now a stop on the Tren Maya, the pet tourism-cum-poverty-alleviation project of Mexico’s previous president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. Despite local objections to the Mayan Train’s negative ecological impacts, it has had a major impact on increasing tourism to the Yucatán peninsula – Mérida was the subject of a recent (Feb. 24, 2024) New York Times “36 Hours in …” travel article.

The time we spent in Mérida in 2020 was more akin to the “36 hours” idea than what we did in 2001. Art museums, historic houses, beautiful parks (with ice cream!), and paseo-ing on a boulevard to choose among the upscale restaurants.

After several days of this, we and my sister got in our rental car and went down that same road (Route 281) to Celestún, crossed that same bridge and located our hotel at the beach. This time we had reserved our two rooms in a hotel with a patio, where we were often the only people having wine and cheese (no sardines, no saltines) in the evening. We could walk along the main street and pick a restaurant, or walk on the beach and pick a palapa serving what we call “beach food.”

The Main Attraction: Ecotourism

This time, rather than take the boat tour to the big flocks of flamingoes, we went eco-touristing. The international recognition of the Riá Celestún biosphere and its wetlands (there’s an adjoining reserve of wetlands at the south end of the biosphere that extends into Campeche state, Los Petenes).

We searched out the Guardianes de los Manglares Dzinintún – the Guardians of the mangroves that ring the Dzinintún lagoon. It was a little hit and miss, but we found them. There were a couple of guys hanging out in hammocks; by now, our Spanish was good enough to say we wanted to go on the tour, and ask whether there would be flamingoes. Yes, that was good, come back tomorrow morning, and we would find flamingoes.

The next morning, after a little confusion about who we were and what we wanted, we hiked a bit to get to a “canoe,” more of a flat-bottomed boat than a canoe (they now offer kayaks for self-propelled adventures). The captain poled the boat through the mangroves, which was a great experience, and we did find small groups of flamingoes in the open areas.

We then went out into the lagoon. The boat captain was having some difficulty poling across the lagoon to get to the dock (return trip was a hike through the mangroves). The captain was struggling to pole the boat towards the dock, so John jumped out to pull, and ended up waist-deep in pale gray mud. The captain was probably appalled, but didn’t say a word! With that, my sister and I had no trouble getting out of the boat onto the dock.

On our hike back, mostly on a home-made boardwalk, every time we reached some clean water, the captain had John take off his pants and wash out the mud – it took three days of rinsing them with the hotel hose to finally get them clean.

Developing Ecotourism in Celestún

According to recent (late 2024, 2025) reviews on Tripadvisor, the Guardianes have come a long way. You reserve in advance with a WhatsApp call, and a tuk-tuk type mototaxi picks you up at your hotel. There are bilingual guides (ask in advance), plus the boat captain. The guide points out birds and wildlife, talks about the work of the reserve, and explains how the Guardianes work with other ecotourism organizations around the world. The tour sounds the same – the presentation has been “modernized.”
(www.guardianesdelosmanglaresdedzinintun.com/)

There is also an ecotourism company called Sheartails Expeditions (the Mexican sheartail (Doricha eliza) is a hummingbird native to Mexico) that started in 2002, after we were there; it was badly damaged by Hurricane Milton in October 2024, but is again offering some tours for birdwatchers; one specialty is a firefly float through the mangroves. (www.facebook.com/sheartailexpeditions)

Local Salt Production

We also took a tour, although you can apparently drive there yourself, of the colored, mostly pink, salt pans (charcas). The Maya settled the area around Celestún around 1800 BCE; they produced salt via evaporation and traded it throughout their empire and with other pre-Hispanic civilizations.

Our guide explained the Celestún salt industry; in the early 1900s, the town of Real de Salinas (Royal Salt Mines) was the production site for “dye wood” (Haematoxylum campechianum, or logwood) – a hardwood that can produce red, purple, and blue dye, and for salt. The town of Real de Salinas is now in ruins, although people ride bikes out to see the “ghost hacienda.”

The salt industry that remains in Celestún is small, no longer a major source of income or employment for many of the nearly 7,000 people who live there. There is a women’s cooperative society that produces and sells salts from the reserve (Sociedad cooperative salinas de la reserva); the coop wholesales and resales flor de sal, coarse salt, table salt, and sea salt, which you can buy locally. There is a more commercial product sold by a Cancun company called Gusto Buen Vivir (The Taste of Good Living) – Celestún Flor de Sal Gourmet, “Harvested, Collected, Dried, and Packaged by Hand.” You can buy it on Amazon for $30 USD for 26.5 ounces.

Ecotourism, Tourism, and Celestún

In January 2025, the governor of Yucatán issued a UNESCO-sponsored publication, Yucatán: Mosaicos de Experiencias. UNESCO’s goal is to strengthen the capacity of rural indigenous communities to design and manage their own “community-based tourism” (CBT) experiences; the tourism department of Yucatán state has a capacity-building program to help develop local CBT businesses as an alternative to the mass resort-style
model (really, is the beach in Cancún much different from the beach in Phuket?). CBT gives communities the chance to benefit from tourism experiences they design themselves; the outcome is equitable development that brings market benefits to marginalized local peoples. Both the Guardianes de los Manglares Dzinintún and Sheartails Expeditions are listed among the 14 CBT “social enterprises” in the Yucatán Mosaic catalogue.

And how well is CBT holding up in Celestún? When we first went to Celestún, there were nearly 6,000 people there, although the population rose to 10,000 in octopus fishing season, which begins August 1 (Mexico is one of the world’s largest exporters of octopus, and 98% of that octopus comes from the Yucatán). From 2000 to 2010, the population increased by less than 300 (± 5%), but from 2010 to 2020, it increased by almost 23%, to 8,389.

That population increase comes from migration in search of employment, a typical result of promoting a new tourism destination. Associate Professor of Anthropology Matilde Córdoba Azcárate has studied four tourism sites in the Yucatán, Celestún among them. Córdoba Azcárate looks carefully at how tourism exploits the places, people, and natural resources of any given location “in order to satisfy short-term consumer demands.” Like us, Córdoba Azcárate twice spent time in Celestún, first in the mid-1990s and then in 2002. In the 1990s, she found it was off the beaten path of tourism, but once Mexico defined the biosphere in 2000, and UNESCO recognized that, development started to accelerate. By 2002, the author found “all the trappings of modern tourism” – which limited access to the very natural resources Celestún was trying to merchandise, intensified social conflict, and increased crime and violence.

While development has increased the population, prosperity is not equally shared (please tip your hotel maid), there are not enough jobs to go around, there’s exceedingly limited health care. According to Córdoba Azcárate, increasing tourism has benefited only a few people, and failed to deliver the “promised sustainable and inclusive economic growth.” In our experience in 2020, 18 years after Córdoba Azcárate’s second visit, the situation may have improved – here’s hoping that the Yucatán’s CBT capacity building program for community-based tourism stays alive and well!

Córdoba Azcárate’s book is Stuck with Tourism: Space, Power and Labor in Contemporary Yucatán (Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 2020).

 

Huatulco

Sensory Sensitivity Meets Cultural Reality in Mexico

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By Kary Vannice

For the sensory sensitive traveler, Mexico can be a challenge. If you’re planning to visit, or stay for a while, no doubt you’re already anticipating the delicious spicy food, warm hospitality, and the vibrant colorful culture that Mexico is known for. But there are some very real sensory and cultural differences that some foreigners aren’t prepared for until they come face to face with them. Being unprepared can turn something delightful into something disorienting or even disturbing, depending on your level of preparation and understanding. The key to truly enjoying Mexican culture isn’t to try to change it to suit your comfort zone—but to shift your expectations and adapt to your surroundings.

Even if you don’t identify as particularly sensory sensitive, Mexico may still throw you a few cultural curveballs, so knowing how to deal with them gracefully and respectfully in advance can mean you get to have a good time and you don’t have to ask Mexico not to be Mexico.

It won’t take long before you realize that most of Mexico is loud (at least by foreign standards). Whether it’s music blasting from a nearby store or café, fireworks before sunrise for a saint’s day celebration, or street vendors shouting their daily offerings through a loudspeaker—Mexico is a full-on auditory experience.

Celebration is a part of everyday life in Mexico. Music, fireworks, parades, and community gatherings often involve sound levels that would be considered noise violations in other countries. Most Mexicans aren’t conditioned to need silence to relax, so there are no “quiet hours.” These sounds aren’t disturbances—they’re expressions of joy. It’s Mexicans living their best life, and when foreigners insist on lowering the volume or making complaints, they are asking the locals to lessen their enjoyment of life.

But there are ways to cope. First, pay attention to daily rhythms—afternoon siesta often brings a lull and can be a great time to rest. If you see a party, join in instead of resisting. Mexicans are some of the most welcoming people on the planet and live by the ethos: the more the merrier. If you’re sensitive to sound, invest in quality earplugs or noise-canceling headphones. And most important, accept that the noise isn’t a cultural flaw—it’s a feature.

Another sensory difference that might catch you off guard is personal space—or the lack of it. In many Mexican communities, people naturally stand closer together, touch more often, and greet others with a hug or kiss on the cheek, even if you’ve only just met. For someone from another culture, this can feel like an invasion of space.

The local culture places high value on connection and warmth. Touch is seen as a sign of respect and caring, not a threat to autonomy or an invasion of space. Physical closeness indicates trust. But, if you don’t feel comfortable touching or even standing close to people you don’t know, Mexico can be a challenge.

It’s important to keep in mind that their perception of personal space is different from yours, so they genuinely won’t understand your discomfort. Relax your body when your personal space is invaded and set gentle boundaries after you build rapport but do it with humor and kindness. Mexicans love to joke around and are quick to laugh if you keep things light. It can also help to simply observe the locals as they move in and around each other. You’ll soon see that they are as warm with strangers as they are with family. You’ll likely learn to appreciate the beauty and tenderness of these simple gestures.

Time might not have a sensory quality, but for many of us, punctuality is a deeply ingrained expectation. And in Mexico, this will likely present a greater challenge than either noise or touch. Time here is flexible, fluid … and often late.

You may arrive at a dinner party “on time” and find you’re the only person there for the first hour. A plumber who promised to arrive “a las diez” might show up at noon. In Mexico, time is more suggestion than commandment.

This isn’t about disrespect. It’s simply that Mexican culture prioritizes relationships over rigid scheduling. Things unfold when they unfold. Trying to force your sense of urgency onto that rhythm rarely works, and often backfires. Taking it personally is pointless. Complaining about it won’t change deeply embedded cultural beliefs and ways of being. Complaining about lateness or feeling personally offended will only hurt you, because from a cultural perspective, no offense has occurred.

The best solution? Build in “buffer” time. Don’t schedule back-to-back commitments counting on things to run on time. Use this time to your advantage by always carrying a book, podcast or magazine with you. It’s a chance to loosen your grip on control and start living a little more in the moment, like the locals do.

If on your travels you find yourself wishing things were quieter, more spacious, or more “efficient” … pause. Take a minute to recognize that the discomfort you’re feeling isn’t a sign that something is wrong with Mexico. It’s a sign that your cultural expectations are being stretched.

Take a breath and remind yourself: this is the whole point of travel…growth, expansion, and understanding.

The most meaningful experiences come not from controlling your environment, but from surrendering to it. From witnessing a culture on its own terms, not yours. From expanding your comfort zone, not policing everyone else’s.

Allow the experience with openness, curiosity, humility, and a willingness to be changed.

Because if you let it, Mexico will not only surprise you; it will transform you.

Huatulco

Ice Crystals of Emotion

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By Kary Vannice

Water is more than just a vital substance to sustain life. For centuries, humans seem to have known it holds mysteries that bridge science and spirituality. From ancient creation stories to modern scientific studies, water is valued not only for its life-sustaining properties but also for its deeper, hidden potential. In the early 90s, Dr. Masaru Emoto, a Japanese researcher, set out to prove water’s ability to interact with human consciousness and answer the question: Does water respond to thoughts, energies, and emotions?

Our daily life is intimately intertwined with water. Not one living thing on planet Earth can survive without it. Humans are composed of 60-70% water, and the human brain is nearly 85% water. This physical connection hints at a deeper relationship – one where water reflects our internal state and acts as a conduit of energy and information.

In his book, Hidden Messages in Water (2005), Dr. Emoto demonstrated water’s potential to reflect and retain emotional and energetic imprints. His studies involved imprinting water with various words, intentions, and music before freezing it and photographing the resulting ice crystals. Water samples exposed to positive expressions formed intricate, symmetrical patterns, resembling snowflakes. Water exposed to negative words or feelings, on the other hand, produced chaotic patterns and irregular shapes. These results represented visual proof of water’s sensitivity to external stimuli, suggesting that it might be more than just a passive resource. It might actually be interacting with the energies around it, and be impacted by feelings, thoughts, words, and intentions.

This sensitivity is not a new idea, however. In Native American traditions, rivers are revered as sacred beings that sustain life and connect the spiritual and physical worlds. Aztec mythology celebrates Chalchiuhtlicue, the goddess of water, fertility, and childbirth, who is seen as the provider of life-giving rain. These ancient perspectives align with the notion that water is more than a substance, it’s an energetic force woven into the fabric of life itself.

The unique molecular structure that allows water to interact with its surroundings seems to also allow it to retain information from its environment, creating what is known as “water memory.” It is believed that water carries imprints that influence its behavior. Knowing this is true, it could be said that water acts almost like the subconscious mind, which stores impressions from our experiences and interactions.

Many spiritual traditions teach that everything is “mind” and speak of the “primordial waters” as the background energy of all creation. It seems science now also links water to mind and substance to unseen energy.

In the Christian Bible, the “water of life” flows from the throne of God, symbolizing eternal life and spiritual renewal. The Quran also emphasizes water’s foundational role: “We made from water every living thing.” And in the Hindu tradition, the cosmic churning of the ocean symbolizes the origins of life, the universe, and the nectar of immortality. In almost every spiritual tradition, water is seen as both the origin of life and a medium for spiritual connection and renewal.

Since both ancient wisdom and modern science support the idea that we are always in a two-way conversation with the water in us and around us, choosing more positive emotions, thoughts, and intentions can have a profound effect on both our internal and external worlds.

This unique quality of water is a testament to the interconnectedness and interdependence of all things, a reminder that we are not separate from the world around us. It demonstrates that even the smallest ripple of emotion can grow into a wave, reaching places we may never see. Knowing water carries information gives us the opportunity to contribute to a positive flow of energy that uplifts not only ourselves but also the environment we live in.

The mystery of water’s intelligence may never be fully understood, but the lessons from Dr. Emoto’s work are profound, and offer us the opportunity to interact with water in a more intentional and empowered way. So, the question is, how will you interact with water today?

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Earth Day Celebrates Mother Earth – Do We?

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By Kary Vannice

April 22, 2020, marked the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, our annual celebration of Mother Earth. A day when we pay homage to the natural beauty that surrounds us and take stock of the environmental quagmire we find ourselves in 50 years after the start of the environmental movement.

There are few who would balk at calling our planet “Mother Earth”; after all, she does provide us with the essentials to maintain human life – food, water, and shelter (for some). But would any of us really treat our true mother as we treat Mother Nature?

Fifty years is a milestone, a time when we often take stock and look back to see how far we’ve come, to assess the progress that’s been made … or not made.

On the first Earth Day in 1970, 20 million Americans, one in every 10 people, took to the streets demanding that the US government pass laws to protect them, the animals, and the environment from rampant air and water pollution, which, at that time, was almost completely unregulated.

Celebrations of Earth Day 2020, due to the COVID-19 virus “shelter in place” orders in 45 of the 50 United States, have been almost entirely virtual, and have exerted much less impact. It has been the same in Mexico, where one scientist candidly pointed out the irony of the situation: “Social distancing from home will imply an excessive increase in the use of electrical energy. The consumption of electrical energy is one of the factors that produces the greatest number of carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions. This electrical power will burn more fuel, considerably polluting the atmosphere.”

But, while the only thing these situations may seem to have in common is irony, that’s not entirely true, as this excerpt from an Earth Day article published on Fortune.com points out.

Virologists and scientists say that our broken relationship with nature is at the very heart of this pandemic. Accelerating biodiversity loss—caused by a mix of pollution, over farming, urbanization, and changing temperatures—has made complex ecosystems much simpler and more unstable. That makes it easier for viruses to jump from animals to people, as they have begun to do with alarming frequency.

The truth is, we haven’t come far enough in 50 years. While some things have gotten better, many have gotten worse, and we are not where many eager young environmentalists had hoped we would be in 2020.

On the first Earth Day, polluted rivers, many of them veritable oil slicks from factories’ unremittent dumping, were a top agenda item. And, while most first-world countries have indeed regulated corporate sludge dumping, some developing countries still lag far behind. And our oceans are far more polluted than they were 50 years ago, so much so that scientists can’t even quantify the effects that plastics will have on the biodiversity of sea life, not to mention the fact that our oceans are also warmer and more acidic than they were in 1970. It all adds up to a grim prognosis for all, not just our fishy friends, since biodiversity really is the key to health, at both the macro and the micro level.

This year on Earth Day, The New York Times reported that the World Wildlife Fund estimates that, on average, thousands of different wildlife populations have declined by 60 percent since1970. And that “last year, a comprehensive scientific assessment from the United Nations warned that unless nations step up their efforts to protect what natural habitats are left, they could witness the disappearance of 40 percent of amphibian species, one-third of marine mammals and one-third of reef-forming corals.”

We haven’t done much better on land either. The rate of rainforest destruction has also increased. Before the 1970s, deforestation in the Amazon was mostly done by local farmers, clearing the land to grow crops. In the latter part of the century, deforestation became more of an industrial affair, when large-scale agriculture entered the region. By the 2000s, cattle ranching was the number one cause. In 2018, 30 million acres of the Amazon rainforest were lost. That was slightly less than in recent years, but it’s not slowing fast enough.

Why does it even matter? Well, this brings us back to our Mother. The Amazon has been called “the lungs of Mother Earth,” the largest producer of life-giving oxygen and a huge storehouse for carbon dioxide, which is the main cause of global warming. We humans need the trees to survive. But it doesn’t stop with the trees. The Amazon is also the richest, most biodiverse ecosystem on the planet, home to at least 10% of the world’s biodiversity. And biodiversity equals health, not just for Mother Earth, but for all her inhabitants, including humans.

After 50 years, if you run the numbers for air pollution, water pollution, environmental toxins, species extinction, deforestation, overpopulation, waste disposal, and climate change, you’ll see that while some areas have made some small gains, there are simply too many losses to make up the difference. Far too often the real issue comes down to the environment vs. the economy. And in this fight, the environment will always be the loser, unless the consumer, the true driver of global economies, starts to make environmentally friendly products and companies a priority, sending the message that they aren’t willing to sacrifice one to benefit the other.

Now consider your real mother, what would you be (or have been) willing to sacrifice for her health and well-being? Does Mother Nature not deserve the same sacrifice?

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Quarantine Reading: Literature’s Famous and Infamous Mothers and Fathers

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By Carole Reedy

Each May and June we honor mothers and fathers with a special day. In Mexico, Mother’s Day is always celebrated on May 10 and is, practically speaking, a national holiday. Though group celebrations will be curtailed this year because of the coronavirus, children will thank their parents according to the customs of their individual cultures.

One of the advantages of the isolation dictated by the virus is the time now given us to think, reflect, and remember. The approach of May and June gives me pause to reflect on the mothers and fathers of the literature I have so loved over the years.

Just for fun, I’ve devised some awards for the outstanding literary figures of a few favorite authors.

The Queen of Jewish Mothers:
Sophie Portnoy from Portnoy’s Complaint by Philip Roth (1969)

The Urban Dictionary provides a succinct definition of a Jewish mother:  “an unstoppable force of nature that will feed you, pamper you, and pester you at the slightest provocation, known to spout Yiddish randomly. Be warned: if you come to my house, you WILL leave with a full stomach and a bag of leftovers.”

There is little doubt that Sophie Portnoy maintains the title to this day.  Perhaps Estelle Constanza (of Seinfeld fame) holds second place, but as Lev Grossman reported in Time magazine, “There could be no Estelle Constanza without Sophie Portnoy.”

For those of you who might not be familiar with Sophie Portnoy (really?), she’s Alexander Portnoy’s overbearing mother who dedicates her life to the task of raising her son, going as far as checking his bowel movements on a daily basis. The novel thrust Roth into fame as one of the most accomplished and loved American novelists of the 20th century.

The novel’s platform is the consultation of young Alexander and his psychotherapist.  Publication of such a novel in 1969 sparked two controversies. First, the detailed description of masturbation by young Alexander, as well as obscenities and other sexually explicit adventures that were revolutionary 50 years ago. Second, some members of the Jewish community were offended by what they viewed as an irreverent depiction of the Jewish people.  The book was even banned by some libraries in the US.

Nonetheless, Philip Roth went on to prove himself to be a master of the contemporary American novel. Sadly, he died before receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature, which was surely his due (though that remains a bone of contention).  He did, however, garner countless accolades in his lifetime as one of the great American writers.

The Bravest of Single Mothers:
Hester Prynne from The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1850)

It would take a lot of courage to stand up to the least flexible, most cantankerous of religious fathers as well as an intolerant community. Yet this is precisely the action taken by Hester Prynne, protagonist of The Scarlet Letter. In 1642, the Puritan Massachusetts Bay Colony, Hester becomes pregnant, her husband thought to be lost at sea, and she faces the wrath of her community as an adulteress. She must wear the scarlet A letter as punishment and degradation.

Hester leads a tough short life, her daughter Pearl being rebellious also. All the involved characters suffer from inward guilt that affects them physically. It is a sad tale. Hawthorne didn’t expect the book to be popular with the general public, but he was wrong. The Scarlett Letter was an instant success and has become a worldwide classic.

The Most Naive of Grandfathers:
Daniele Mallarico from Trick by Domenico Starnone (2016)

Highly respected Italian writer Starnone and his equally famous translator, Jhumpa Lahiri, bring us a different twist on the family saga. The main characters here are the grandfather Daniele and his grandson, the four-year-old Mario, who are spending a week together while Mario’s parents leave the city for work-related matters. Although one might think this combination would present a light, humorous, sentimental novel, it’s quite the opposite.

The relationship of these two, along with that of Mario’s parents, is bluntly and honestly frustrating and difficult. While discussing the book with friends, we all wondered how the 70-year-old grandfather ever agreed to spend a week babysitting a four-year-old, which is the reason I name him the most naive of grandfathers.

The Most Successful Yet Heartbroken of Fathers:
Seymour Levov from American Pastoral by Philip Roth (1997)

Seymour Levov (“The Swede” – a nickname since childhood because of his blonde hair and Nordic appearance) had it all: He was a successful Jewish-American businessman with a house in the suburbs, the trophy wife, popularity from an early age on and off the football field, friends, and family. Midway through the novel, Swede’s life begins a slow deterioration after his teenage daughter is involved in a terrorist act.

Roth’s ability to take the reader into the hearts and minds of his characters is exceptionally present in this novel, which deservedly won the Pulitzer Prize in 1998. And while a feeling of unendurable pain permeates the second half of the book, there are many memorable scenes. For me the description of the glove factory that Seymour’s father created is one of the finest in literature.

The Gentlest of Fathers:
Mr. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813)

Even though Mr. Bennet’s main concern is securing good marriages for his daughters, it is evident that he also wants their happiness too. While Mrs. Bennet is in a tizzy, he is the calming hand in the family.

Probably the best film portrayal of this gentle father is the 2005 production directed by Joe Wright, who chose an acting master, Donald Sutherland, to play the role in part because Sutherland reminded him of his own father. He also thought Sutherland “showed the strength to be able to handle those six women.” Of all the Mr. Bennets, Sutherland is my favorite, and now it is always he whom I picture in my mind’s eye when re-reading the novel.

The Most Controversial of Fathers:
King Lear from Shakespeare’s play of the same name (c. 1606)

Since the 17th century, surely the most famous of fathers is King Lear. Every distinguished actor has played the role William Shakespeare created for British audiences more than 400 years ago. The play has evolved greatly over the years. Early on, men played women’s roles and then later women played men’s roles. Modern actor Glenda Jackson even played the demanding lead in both 2016 and 2019.

When the Puritans ruled England, theaters were shut down from 1642 until the Restoration (1660) and then again, under the mad rule of George III, from 1811 to 1820, so no King Lear was presented during those crazy eras.

The most ridiculous turn of events was the adaption of the play by Nahum Tate after the Restoration, which survived until the mid-19th century. It was entitled The History of King Lear, and in that version Lear and Cordelia live, and Cordelia marries Edgar. The Fool was eliminated totally in this rewrite. Fortunately, in the mid-19th century, Shakespeare’s original plot returned.

For the next three centuries, we’ve seen productions of Lear in most theater repertoires, movies have been made, three opera companies (Japanese, Finnish, and German) have produced it, and recently in 2018 a novel was published entitled The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton. The original play has had a long history, and here’s hoping it will endure long into the future.

The Most Confused of Modern Parents:
Toby and Rachel Fleishman from Fleishman Is in Trouble
by Taffy Brodesser-Akner (2019)

Toby and Rachel Fleishman are getting divorced and it isn’t pretty. In fact, it’s outright upsetting for the reader, who hears both sides of the story. Sound familiar? Yes, it’s been done before, but not like this. Brodesser-Akner’s style is compelling and agitating. It presents in a non-analytical way the frustrations of both parties. Reviewers are comparing the author to Philip Roth and Tom Wolfe as someone who brings contemporary society’s problems to the fore with a bang, but in the end does not leave us hopeless.

Katy Walkman, astute reviewer for The New Yorker, sums up the trouble of Fleishman, observing that the title may “refer to our collective exhaustion with a certain type of male protagonist. Brodesser-Akner is not simply knocking her main character off of his throne. She is, perhaps, staging a rescue.”

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What Change This Plague Might Bring . . .

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By Deborah Van Hoewyk

On February 28, 2020, Mexico confirmed its first case of COVID-19, the infection caused by the latest coronavirus (there are many, and there will be more). On March 21, 2020, as this issue of The Eye closed, Mexico had confirmed 164 cases, and 2 deaths. The state of Oaxaca had 2 cases, both in the capital city Oaxaca de Juárez. Although it’s been suggested that the relatively low rate of confirmed cases is due to sluggish testing, and that in fact there may have been many more by mid-March, the government – including and especially President Lopez Obrador – has been reluctant to require, or even recommend, preventive measures as of March 21. No changes necessary.

From High to Low – Overnight

Not so here in Huatulco. The foreign tourists who populate Huatulco’s high season are taking the corona virus seriously as their governments started “calling them home,” Canada on Saturday, March 14, and the U.S. on Thursday, March 19.

Both countries issued a travel advisory, Canada putting out a “Level 3” and the United States a “Level 4,” the difference being that Canadians were told to “Avoid non-essential travel” and Americans were told “Do not travel.” In remarkably similar language, both countries urged their citizens to return home as soon as possible.

If you were already abroad “in countries where commercial departure options remain available,” you were to “arrange for immediate return.” If you did not do that, you had to be “prepared to remain abroad for an indefinite period.” The advisories noted that countries with COVID-19 outbreaks were “closing borders,” mandating quarantines, and prohibiting non-citizens from entry “with little advance notice.” Moreover, it warned that airlines had canceled many international flights: “Your travel plans may be severely disrupted, and you may be forced to remain outside [the country] for an indefinite timeframe.”

Notice that the presumption of the travel advisories is that people had traveled by air. Neither government said a word about driving across the border. Neither government explicitly defined “essential.” Neither government explained that “closing borders” did NOT mean the border was actually closed – it was closed to everything but that undefined “essential” travel.

The online universe of English-language travel advice for Huatulco – and Mexico as a whole – went wild. Snowbirds, expats, and tourists, anxiously working on exit plans, tried to remedy the information deficits in the travel advisories. (Postings are from “On the Road in Mexico” and “Huatulco – What’s Up … Happening,” and have been edited for clarity.)

Asking for suggestions for friends en route to British Columbia but still in Mexico: “The room they booked in Tucson for tomorrow night has just closed. Now they are worried the rest of their trip [will be] CLOSED CLOSED CLOSED. Anything they should know that I can pass on to them?”
Reply: They are screwed.

Report from someone who crossed at Nogales: I heard the Mx. Border is closed today … Does this mean that Canadian gringos will have to ship their vehicles around the USA?
Query: Does anyone know if a Canadian would be allowed to travel through to reach Canada? Tried to call every number I can find and can’t get through.

Report: Tomorrow night. Land border shutdown begins. US/CDN.
Reply: Stop repeating this sh*t, you idiot.
Administrator (“On the Road in Mexico”): Name calling will not be tolerated … PLEASE and THANK YOU.

Report: Bill Gates told us about the Coronavirus in 2015.

Comment on a report of border crossing: Thanks so much for posting. The huge mass of mis-information has been frustrating and of no possible help.
Reply to comment: I don’t think any country will close a border to its own citizens! You are essential.
Another reply: Did you have to show your passports?

Query: Am I officially screwed if my return flight to states is on Wednesday (3/24)? I’ve been trying to contact my airline, but they’re busy and never answer.
Report: Sounds like people trying to get home from Mexico with West Jet are getting screwed. Westjet is trying to charge them anywhere from $500 to $1000 per person to change their flights … sad really.

As for Westjet, on Monday, March 16, the airline announced that, based on the Canadian government’s call to Canadians to return and its recommendations to control the coronavirus, it was suspending all flights as of 11:59 PM, Sunday, March 22.  On March 18, Westjet posted a list of 21 flights between February 12 and March 12 that had carried “guests who have tested positive for coronavirus (COVID-19).”  On Saturday, March 21, Westjet posted that, “During this continued time of uncertainty, we’re continuing to bring Canadians home from around the world. Between March 23 and March 25, 2020 we will operate 34 repatriation flights from international destinations to ensure the safe return of WestJet guests and Canadians who remain abroad.”

On March 15, the administrator of “On the Road in Mexico” posted “New Rules, please limit posts on Corona virus, to verified information, no conspiracy theories, guesses, or race blaming, people are worried enough without adding to it with rumors and opinions laying blame.”

On March 20, a member of Huatulco – What’s Up … Happening, created a new Facebook site, “Repatriating Canadians and Americans in Huatulco,” intended to provide updated information.  “As we receive many comments and not always correct information, this site might help alleviate your concerns. We urge you to start referring to the information being posted here.”

With so few cases in Mexico, and none in Huatulco, people also contemplated staying in Mexico; on March 18, according to a post citing “the Mexican news,” Mexico’s president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador announced that “Any foreigners stranded in Mexico needn’t worry about coronavirus treatment should they contract it. President López Obrador said today Mexico will treat and care for any foreign patients with Covid-19 because medical attention is ‘a basic right.’ ”  Foreigners would receive “full protection and attention. If they are infected, we will take care of them here regardless of their country of origin because that’s universal brotherhood.”

Recall that just the day before (March 17), NBC News had reported that AMLO had been “ripped” and “slammed” for “disregarding his own government’s social distancing guidelines,” trusting to “luck” and his “moral strength” to combat the virus.  The post about healthcare for foreigners elicited strongly divided comments.

Comment:  Universal brotherhood and universal medicare.  Now that’s a powerful combination!  Way to go Mexico.
Comment:  Geez, guys, careful, saying it and doing it are two different things.

Comment:  Wonderful news!  What a Great Leader!!
Comment:  Wow!  That is impressive!  This is how it should be done right now everywhere.  People need to unite.
Comment:  They SAY what you want to hear. However, they are not staffed or stocked to help the masses of poor.
Comment:  Fantastic … GOD bless President Lopez Obrador!

Repost (March 20): “Mexico City Nurses hold a demonstration outside a Major Hospital to protest lack of supplies, training and support to battle Coronavirus.”

Query: How many ventilators in Huatulco?
Reply: I’m sure you’re going to get a ventilator inMexico.
Reply: I heard only 2 in the area from a friend whose husband has COPD. They have checked it out already and are on their way home.
Reply: Some say Mexico could become the next Italy, for lack of awareness. So be prepared!

And on March 20, right in the middle of it all:

Question: I was at Secrets in February and they had the best frozen margaritas! I think the bar tender was only using ice, tequila and Gran Marnier but was wondering if maybe he used bar lime or something else, because I can’t replicate it. It was the same recipe when we went into town and stopped for a drink. Anyone know the recipe?
Replies: So far, there have been 21.

And How Is Huatulco Responding?

Quick to appear was an online campaign on the theme, “Don’t cancel, change the date – Save Mexican Tourism.” In Huatulco, online advice from two residents was more on the theme of “Just go home.”

My heart is sad, better return everyone to Canada. I know what will happen, we will be too difficult. Huatulco lives on tourism; unfortunately, Huatulco does not have a hospital. This disease will come here … restaurants, hotels are thinking of closing. I think it [leaving] will be the best.

Please go home with your fear, do what is good for you, stop spreading fear … we live in paradise, find a physician to cure your mental illness, we don’t believe in fake news. Thank you, but no thank you.

And gone they are, the snowbirds and short-term tourists.

Several restaurants have closed, others have limited hours, and many are now offering takeout and delivery. Amigos de la Música canceled its March concert. The Mercado Organica de Huatulco has been suspended. The municipio of San Miguel del Puerto has closed access to all three major waterfalls, the zipline, and the cooperative eco-adventure business El Remolino. Service providers were requesting cancellation of events for the Fourth Friday of Lent (Samaritan Day, March 20); some events were held, including the traditional dances in Santa María Huatulco, but the municipio president, Giovanne Gonzales Garcia, reported that activities were curtailed, and no foreigners attended. There were fireworks, including the traditional “Burning the Castle.” That day, Huatulco hotels reported a 35-40% occupancy rate.

Schools were closed two weeks early, from March 20 – April 20, for the Santa Semana break. Santa Semana, the period between Palm Sunday (April 5) and Easter (April 12), is a major tourism event in all of Mexico. Apparently Cancun has upped its advertising and hotel discounts to try to entice national visitors to fill the emptied rooms, but Huatulqueño hoteliers predict a complete collapse of Santa Semana tourism. In Oaxaca, they have begun to worry about whether the 2020 Guelaguetza (July 20 – July 27) will take place.

And the Future?

One of the big changes in Huatulco lately – construction. Hotels, retail, and condos are popping up here, there, and everywhere. As can be seen in the number of abandoned, half-finished structures, though, construction depends in large measure on cash flow.

More serious is the possibility the pandemic will cause widespread health impacts; without sufficient preventive measures, which seem slow in coming in March, will Mexico’s generally solid health system be overwhelmed? While the health system for foreigners is woefully lacking, for Mexicans there’s a basic public healthcare system for low-income residents, a plethora of pharmacies, and a good number of hospitals and clinics.

Mexico’s health system does have some infrastructure issues, and the AMLO government has changed some fundamental processes. The hospital coverage is concentrated in urban/urbanized areas, so the size and quality of facilities in remote places isn’t great – these are precisely the places that will be wiped out if a single case appears. Since more than half of Mexican workers are self-employed in informal activities, they can’t readily stay home and self-isolate – basically another cash flow issue.

Implementation of AMLO’s changes to the public health system has been rocky, and whether the new insurance coverage for IMSS-Bienestar, called Instituto de Salud de Bienestar (INSABI), will work is debatable. Worst of all, analysts say INSABI will need a major cash infusion if COVID-19 services are to be covered. AMLO’s approach to spending money is not to spend it, in the name of “republican austerity.” The international Organization for Economic and Community Development (OECD) recommends that a country spend 9% of its Gross Domestic Product (GDP) on health care. Mexico is one of only five countries that spends less – in 2018, Mexico spent only 5% of GDP on health care.

What will Huatulco be like when we come back? Will we all come back? ¿Quien sabe?

2020

San Agustinillo, Zipolite, Mazunte, Puerto Ángel: The Times They Are A Changin’

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By Carole Reedy

It’s just about an hour’s drive from Huatulco west to the small communities of Puerto Ángel, Zipolite, San Agustinillo, and Mazunte on the Oaxacan Coast. Puerto Escondido is yet another hour farther. Each of these communities has its own spirit and quirks, as well as an invisible thread that binds them closely. But in its own way, each has grown, developed, and changed with time, as all things do.

I landed in the region 21 years ago this month, charmed by the isolation and beauty of the area and by its distance from the clanging modern world. Over the decades, the influence of tourism and the presence of foreigners has changed some aspects of life in these areas, but certainly not the loyalty to land and community.

The beauty of the Oaxacan Coast is undisputed: shifting shades of blue, golden sands, a great expanse of sky, and the surrounding velvety vegetation welcome each day. In the evening, a red sun dips into the ocean, heralding restful sleep. The strong Oaxacan women and men, with Zapotec roots and little Spanish blood, awaken early to begin the day before the heat sets in.

A Bit of History

For decades the economy of the Costa Chica depended on the hunting, slaughter, and sale of turtles. Every part of their bodies, including their eggs, was sold. Most people in the region were employed in this venture and San Agustinillo was at the center of it, with the turtle abattoir enjoying prime beachfront property. Five hundred turtles daily were killed there.

In 1990 the Mexican government banned the killing of sea turtles and the locals had to look for new ways to make a living. With the government’s help in the form of permits, boats, and other financial assistance, the men became fishermen, bringing in tasty delicacies such as tuna, pez vela (sailfish), dorado (mahi mahi), and huachinango (red snapper), which were then sold to markets and distributed to businesses throughout the country. Shark was also a popular commodity, but lately it is frowned upon to fish for shark.

Back when turtles were slaughtered, an unpleasant (to say the least) odor permeated the coast. But without this stench the tourists began straggling in, despite the challenge of getting there: no roads or poor dusty, rocky tracks, basically through a jungle. There were few conveniences and no hotels, but some people would rent rooms to the visitors. Locals did not own cars, TVs, stoves or refrigerators.

Some foreign visitors viewed the isolated beach as a paradise and decided to stay, maybe even build a home and start a business, a restaurant, or rooms for rent. Since they knew what worldly tourists wanted and needed (more privacy, nice bathrooms, screens on windows for protection from mosquitos and little animals) they developed profitable ventures, and the locals followed suit.

When I began my 10-year stint in San Agustinillo, it was 1999. We were one of two residents who had a refrigerator, television, and car. There were no land lines or cell service, making communication with the outside world difficult. Lack of basic services was a deterrent for high-rises and big chain hotels, which to this day remains an advantage of this sleepy area. Yes, there’s still a corner of the world not dominated by tall buildings and glitzy services.

The Coast Today

Little by little, more conveniences arrived as the reliability of water and electricity service improved; a better road helped as well. A larger variety of items to meet the demands of people from all over the world lined the grocery store shelves. Young men started taxi services, providing tourists and locals with an alternative to the camionetas (small pickups) to get to Pochutla, Puerto Escondido, Huatulco, and the airports and bus stations. Eventually a cell phone tower appeared, as well as internet connection and service.

Eco-tourism took off. There’s a Turtle Museum in Mazunte where visitors can view the various types of protected turtles and read about the history of the area. Several times a year there are turtle-release ceremonies in which children, adults, and tourists can accompany baby turtles in their return to the sea. The relaxed ambiance of the region also attracts yoga groups. Today there is plenty to keep you busy: fishing, boats tours to see dolphins and whales, small shops including artesanías (handcrafts), surfing, and swimming. Or just sitting on the beach with a good book. San Agustinillo, Mazunte, and Zipolite now boast libraries, and a wine store recently opened in San Agustinillo.

Thriving businesses in San Agustinillo are examples of the new economy, some owned by locals and others by the foreigners who chose to settle in this incomparable paradise. The area is definitely more prosperous now than 20 years ago, but nothing can change the smiles on the locals’ faces or the determination of their hearts.

To reach the area by plane, fly into Huatulco or Puerto Escondido (each one hour from the four towns). If coming by bus, buy your ticket for destination Pochutla. Grab your sunscreen and bathing suit. Any time of year is good for a visit, perhaps with the exception of the very hot and dry month of May.

Ten years after settling into this idyllic coastal life, I left the 250 inhabitants of our small coastal town of San Agustinillo to join the hustle bustle of 20,000,000 urban dwellers in Mexico City, but I return regularly to see many old friends whose roots run deep.

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Project TEN: An Israeli-Mexican Partnership in Oaxaca – Part 2

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screen-shot-2017-02-25-at-12-47-47-pmBy Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

We recently traveled to the hills around Pluma Hidalgo to spend a couple of days with the Project TEN’s professional staff and young Jewish volunteers, primarily Israelis. In the February issue of The Eye, we reported on the important educational, medical, and public health services TEN was providing at the request of the village community members. In this issue we describe the work and life at the isolated TEN center. Continue reading Project TEN: An Israeli-Mexican Partnership in Oaxaca – Part 2 →

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Day of the Holy Kings

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The Day of the Holy Kings is a Christian celebration when children in Mexico receive gifts from the three wise men.

Epiphany, also known as the Day of Holy Kings (Día de los Santos Reyes), is celebrated on January 6 in remembrance of the biblical story of the three kings’ visit to Jesus. Christians believe that three kings (or wise men) – Melchor, Gaspar and Baltazar – visited the child Jesus and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. This Epiphany story is celebrated in churches across Mexico and worldwide. Mexican children receive gifts from the three kings (reyes magos). Streets in major cities are packed with food stalls, gifts, and outdoor parties. It is also customary to eat Rosca de Reyes, which is a wreath-shaped fruity bread baked with a figure of baby Jesus inside.

The Day of the Holy Kings is a religious observance and not a federal public holiday in Mexico.

The person who finds the figurine of baby Jesus inside his or her share of the sweet bread, Rosca de Reyes, symbolically “becomes” Jesus’ godparent.