Had sooo much fun today swimming, jumping and ziplining into a local cenote...only about 10 minutes from where I live.....actually one of my new friends here Winston, wrote a good story about it on his blog so I am going to include it now, he is a journalist so a much better writer than I...here it is...
A Day of Adventure in the Jungle
Puerto Morelos, Quintana Roo, Mexico- This world we live in is very small indeed. I discovered that my new friend Cynthia Castle not only knew about Waring but had actually been to the Comfort Little Theater which they hold across the street from my house in Waring Hall every year. Not only that, but I sat by Cynthia on the plane down unknowingly and ran into her again at a small store here in P.M. the other day. What does that mean? It means she and I had amazinlgy crossed paths three times in this world, once when she was in Waring at the same time as me, once on a plane from Austin, and once in a small Caribbean fishing village 30 km from the airport.
Bizarre.
At any rate, we are now friends and Cynthia took me and Jonathan on quite the adventure yesterday. Buried in the jungle on the Mayan peninsula are many many freshwater sinkholes, the result of underwater caves that collapsed. They are called cenotes. This particular cenote, located down a bumpy jungle road about 10 km from P.M., was largely unvisited except for one or two rowdy groups of tourists who stayed for twenty minutes each and then left.
The cenote, if you can use your imagination, is like a boy hood dream. Limestone walls surround the ice cold water on all sides and rise 10 to twenty five feet above the waters surface. The only ways in are by a ladder, a zipline, or simply jumping. It takes some nerve to jump, because it is so high. One of the jumps is 25 feet, which I of course tried, and in the process got water in and up every possible combination of places. (My left ear is still ringing today.) But how breathless and amazing it was, truly. It takes courage to jump into openness and plunge into the water, but ultimately I guess it is a metaphor for life. Sometimes you jump, sometimes it hurts, but looking back it is most certainly worth it.
I even applied my new free diving skills by retreiving a mat that had fallen from high above on the jumping platform. It was at about 15-18 feet depth and I proudly resurrected the lost mat and returned it to its proper place.
Examining the day, I can appreciate the days of Hemingway. After swimming all day, mostly just the three of us, we snacked on goat cheese, crackers and fresh fruits. Tastes, simple tastes, are exquisite when contrasted by an elaborate Swiss Family scene. Sometimes, we would sit and listen to the breeze as it whipped through the jungle canopy, leaving the sanctuary of the cenote undisturbed. Sometimes, we would drift into the caves that drew underneath the limestone walls. You could drift under them and peer out into the daylight from within the cave.
Places like where we were dont exist. Even after being there, I think I believe this.
When the day had passed, and my pulse had grown accustom to hearing nothing and seeing no one and feeling the laziness of the day, we gathered up and returned to the Colonia for the second half of our adventure.
I got to attend a backstreet Mexican political meeting in a the taxi cab drivers union building. It actually wasnt an adventure. It was intolerably boring. BUT, having the journalism background that I do, I went and learned. Basically, the town is in danger in the next twenty years of being swallowed by the tide of consumerism coming down the beach and the good folks of P.M. are worried about it, which is what the meeting was all about.
With all that said and done, we returned to Cynthias house and ate a dinner of rice and beans, which again tasted wonderful.
A hot shower and a drink at La Gioconda topped off the evening. Sadly not, though, my thoughts turn toward home. As it turns out, I somehow managed to miss the place where I was supposed to get a visa in Mexico City. (No one bothered to tell me I was supposed to do this.) So according to my friend Javier I am technically an illegal alien here. But this are minor details which I will concern myself with at the appropriate time.
******************************************
You can check out Winson's blog for a visitors view of this place I live called Puerto Morelos..love, cynthia http://worldofwinston.blogspot.com/
These Mayan ruins are so incredible! Probably one of the most powerful cities of its time....built around 100 BC. I climbed to the top of the highest ruin where you can see for miles!! The climb down is very steep and best to descend at an angle. 
Weaving hammocks is a local artisan craft done by women....I notice the Mayan women and children smile and laugh a lot! 
This Franciscan convent was across the street from our hotel in Valladolid....built around 1552, used to convert mayans into christians. It sits on top of a huge underground well or cenote. As it turns out one of my friends, Jeronimo photographed the underwater excavation of the cenote where they found many rifles and the only canon ever found in a cenote. It is believed that possibly the monks were trading with pirates??...and that they were hiding the arms from Spaniards or the Mayans...as Valladolid is where the Caste War began here in the Yucatan (1847-1901)...which was the revolt of native Mayan people against the population of European descent.
Well its that Leo time of the year and so Catriona and myself took a little road trip to celebrate. We headed due west out of Puerto Morelos through the jungle without checking with anyone about the condition of the road....it quickly turned into a muddy path full of potholes that seemed like small lakes...Catriona swears there were fish in them. HA!
We headed to Izamal (a colonial town about 3 or 4 hours from here) that is also called "the golden city" as everything is painted the same yellow color....her car blended perfectly! She heard there was a bootmaker there for some custom polo boots.... that was our destination. We never did find the bootmaker but we had a great time!
We passed through many small Mayan villages with names like Xcan, Catzin, Chemax.....this is a typical mayan house.
Spent most of the morning learning to make AREPAS (Venezeulan corncakes)....Flor de Maria has it down due to her Columbian roots and the fact that her grandmother taught her, insisting she watch for 4 years before she could try it!! Well Dinah and I both tried and its not easy...we never did get it! They have to be just perfect to come out right.....we slit them open and filled them with butter or mole and chicken or whatever you want....yummmmmeeeeee!!!
Dinah is the queen of composting if there ever was one...she has a fabulous garden and quite a composting operation....no vegetation leaves her property...with a gasoline powered chipper she shreds everything that needs it...then places it in these beautiful bins made with wire and palm leaves
....she has built incredible composting toilets at her place as well as all over the Yucatan, hotels, etc....this one is in her garden for all workers, she has 2 inside her house!.....they are very appealing to the eye and they don't stink!
