Peace Rider on the Road Kantunilkin to Akumal 1/8/13 to 1/13/13

Dear Friends,

I was beat heading out of Kantunilkin mid-afternoon on the 8th after being on the road without a break from the 2nd.  I had decided at this point to return back through Tulum and see Gabriel again.  I bought a quartz crystal in Chichen to give him for the Mayan temple he's building.    But something had to give,  to go north and then a long way south was not going to work for the time and distance remaining.  I was thinking of doing some of it by bus, which would help.  It became clear I wasn't going to make Chiquila on the north coast in the remaining light of day and would have to overnight somewhere.   All this was rattling around in my head outbound.  And this old body was saying give me a break.

So as usual with the sun low on the horizon I began asking the question, where are we going to camp tonight?  I'm trying to do better at feeling my way to a place.  Up ahead in the distance on this very long straight stretch I see a large white vehicle coming at me, maybe a bus.  It feels like I should look in that vicinity if I can figure out where that is.  In a short while I'm at the place where I estimate I first saw the bus.  There are some cleared places along the road for new houses but nothing leaps out at me and says yes.  We are  always free to choose a lesser experience or a greater one.  I came to the conclusion awhile ago I'd rather be wrong even if I think I'm projecting something rather than not honor what I think I'm hearing and feeling.  So I pass up a few places which would have worked.  Then I see on my right side a small palapa raised above ground on wood posts.  That's different, I thought.  Most structures I'd been seeing were of concrete block.  There was a nice cleared area  around the place with a car parked in front.  Hmm, feels right, so I pull in.  It's a station wagon, a Ford Equinox I think,  with an Australia sticker on the hatchback trunk.  I call out hola!, no response, walk around back a ways and again, hola!  A man lying in a hammock responds and gets up.

And that was how I met Pepe a nickname for Jose he later tells me.  I ask if | can put my tent on his property for the night.  Si, no problem he responds.  My Spanish has improved so I'm catching most of the conversation.  There was a kind of coarse grass for a lawn and the alarm bells should have been going off, beware the bichos, chiggers, or garapatas as Pepe calls them that lurk therein.  But they don't and I pitch my tent in the grass, later to move it.  It doesn't help.  The sons of bichos found me. 

Jose as it turns out has an ecotourism business <www.elchorchal.com>.   He and his family own some of the last original forest near Solferino 2km north.   He tells me he's helping a lady build a tree house and asks if I want to see it in the morning.  Sure I say.  Others, including a Mexican biologist and Norwegian man with Greenpeace, have all bought small pieces of original forest here to insure minimal development.  To my question the next day if I might stay a bit longer to rest he says yes, welcome.  He gives me the run of the place which also has a separate shower and toilet, yahoo!  I forget about going to Hol Box, finding this place was where I needed to be.  We had similar interests and my body screamed rest.  This was the place.  

Turns out Pepe had taken a short course in Cuba on Agroforestry.  I learned a lot on a tour of his land the next day.  He showed me rows of Caoba trees he'd planted in the forest, along with bamboo of two different kinds in more open places.   Caoba and cedar are two desirable woods he tells me but the former grows faster, especially if supplemental water can be added.  One land owner has done just that connecting trees to a well with a system of interconnected plastic piping.  Pepe is trying to show by example what is possible for others to do rather than continue the cycle of burning and use of chemicals to perpetuate monocultures.  He also had a couple of fish tanks behind his house raising a spotted predatory fish, whose name escapes me, as an ornamental and for food.  Some were at least five pounds but stayed mostly hidden under the floating water hyacinth.  

I asked him if he was interested in raising and helping restore the native Melipona bees which are rare now.  It produces superior quality honey with medicinal properties that bring very high prices.  He was, but less so for the money than for the rehabilitation of the species.  This was the bee and honey Mayan people used to cultivate.  It was a part of their culture.   I told him I would get back to him with more information from a contact I had in Tulum.  

I told Pepe I should leave the 11th and asked about taking the bus south.  But he offered to give me a ride part way.  That was fine it would get me close enough to make Tulum in a days bike ride.  If we got up early I could get on the road while it was still cool he suggested.  So that's what we did.  I was ready.  The tropical forest is bug heaven and I an easy meal ticket.   

Well,  we managed to get away before sunrise but my green scarf didn't make the trip.  I think it blew off a line after drying the day before.   Of course I didn't notice its disappearance until after Pepe dropped me off, confirmed by a futile search of my bags.   I really needed a scarf to keep my neck and face from getting fried even with sunblock.  

Pepe dropped me at a road junction leading to the ruins at Coba 45 km to the southeast.  As it turned out,  the same distance to Tulum, about 55 miles in all plus another five to Gabriel's place.  Doable over this mostly flat terrain.   I was perhaps 30 minutes into it staying in the shade on the left side.  There wasn't much traffic.  Up ahead I see something lying on the right side.  More often it's road kill but when I pull abreast it's a piece of cloth.  I stop for a closer look.  It's a bandana.  Well, how about that, manna from Heaven!  But it reeks of some kind of petroleum residue.  It's useless for the moment it but I keep it..  The nearest place I could get it washed I'm thinking is Tulum, not much help there.  Time and a few more kilometers pass.  Speed bumps sanely slow car traffic through communities and some even bicycles depending on the design.  This was the case in Pak Naw as I approached it.  It was a very small Mayan pueblo but on my way through I notice a black plastic tube sticking out of the ground spurting water.  Very not usual.  No one's around to ask if I can use it.   Building blocks are piled in front of nearby one story building indicate new construction in progress.  I wait awhile to see if anyone shows up but nobody does.  I lean my bike against a pole, get out the soap and wash the bandanna three or four times and get most of the smell out.  It's usable.  I also soak my shirt.  I'm away again with air conditioning. YO, thank you Universe! 

It's worth repeating, the Universe is here to support you when you align with universal values and are giving of yourself for the greater good in some fashion.  What you focus on grows.  

I turn left at the junction to Tulum but make a quick stop beforehand at the Pemex station to re wet my shirt.  By two, I'm in Tulum heading for the Hotel Don Diego de la Selva to ask about Melipona bees.   Stephane, the French owner I'd met on my first visit, is trying to rescue and revive the culture of these bees. He remembered me.  He had several colonies in capped sections of hollow trunks, the traditional Maya way of cultivating Melipona.  He was in the process of transferring them to boxes.  They are easier to maintain and extract the honey from he tells me.  He was giving a course on their cultivation 2 February in Playa del Carmen.  I passed all this on to Pepe.

From there it was get a few more pesos from an ATM for food, and continue on to Muuchximbal, Gabriel's community.  The next day I was in Akumal by noon.  I stayed at De Rosa's,  Villa de Rosa shortly after I arrived.  An alternative and safe place to come if you're considering a Mexican vacation.  You can contact Nancy at <derosamex@hotmail.com> and also check out <www.saverivieramaya.org>.  She came here 27 years ago when there was very little development along this coast, exploring many of the underground caves and cenotes with her husband.  Now she and others are trying to halt some of the most destructive developments that have been proposed or approved but not yet built.  

Sixto Mazon and family were coming to Las Palmas, another Mayan community, near Muuchximbal on Saturday the 12th.  Gabriel said he'd pick me up on the way back from Cancun that morning.  So Saturday I joined a gathering of friends to honor the arrival of Sixto and Araselli's two month old son.  It was nice to see again these new friends.  Mariano, Gabriel's father, took me, the Sixto family and another couple on a tour of nearby cenotes or springs.  One was a spectacular and extensive underground system of interconnected caves on private land called Mystic River.  So amazingly beautiful and fragile these water carved sculptures.  

Mariano, at 80 doesn't look his age and is doing quite well,  We ate outside with among other notables Gobi, a spider monkey on a long sliding leash suspended between two trees.  From these he hung and swung and climbed using his long tail as a third arm.   A couple of young children got too close and using that prehensile tail grabbed hold of a leg and dragged them prompting a swift adult rescue.

The question of what comes next has been answered.  Fukuko, my wife, asked me to return to help with the house.  Her health remains an ongoing issue and concern.  So from the beach to snow, go with the flow, don't push the river, expect the unexpected.  I leave Cancun for Miami 16 January and Fairbanks not long thereafter.  

For me a wonderful and unforgettable culture experience among my new and very gracious Mayan hosts and other friends.  But in a fitting metaphor the light is increasing slowly in Fairbanks but with gathering speed as the days pass.  In similar fashion I sense building energy for change to take us all in a more positive and hopeful direction.  

As time and inspiration allow will continue with these writings.  Our work is not yet done and many challenges remain.  

Don Peace Rider