Diving with the turtles

PLAYA DEL CARMEN, MEXICO

When I was 10 years old, my family moved to Barbados. Tough life, I know. There, my father, bored with his life above water decided to take a different look at the world -- the world underwater. And he took me with him. At the time, the lower age limit to scuba dive was 12, and so I usually hung off my father's octopus or snorkeled around. But way before the day after my 12th birthday (the day I got my junior open water scuba diving certification) I was hooked. So whenever I'm in a location that involves warm water (call me spoiled but I'm a fair-weather diver) I am curious to see what lies beneath. Through the years I have gone through what is sometimes thought of as an excessive amount of certification courses -- today, I sit here a PADI Divemaster. But you know what, diving has brought me much joy in my life, in fact, that is how I met Marc, so you won't find me very apologetic. So it was no surprise that when packing my bags to come to Playa del Carmen, my dive gear came with me.

The thing to dive in the Mayan Riviera are the Cenotes. It's basically cave diving. But, as this was going to be everyone's first dive in at least a year (I'm a fair weather diver and live in San Francisco, remember?) a check-out dive was needed. We decided on Tortuga Reef, or turtle reef.

Another thing to know about me is that I'm totally obsessed with turtles. I'm not really sure how it started, but I'm sure it was during my time underwater in Barbados. Shortly before my college graduation, I even had myself inked with the image of a Hawksbill Turtle. Although they are now critically endangered, it was the turtle that I saw most often while diving in Barbados. Their strength and grace always took my breath away.

The idea of going to a reef named "turtle reef" got me incredibly excited. So much so that, before I knew what "tortuga" meant (about 30min before the dive), I was close to devastated that we wouldn't be going to see the turtles. I should really brush up on my Spanish.

And the name is true to its word. I have often seen turtles on a dive, but I don't think ever more than 2. I saw at least 10 turtles on this dive! There were so many that by the time I had "finished"with one turtle, another had popped up, gracefully dancing through the water alongside me. Some were so incredibly big and old that barnacles and other marine creatures had attached themselves to their shells. They seemed so unfazed by the world around them -- they just went about their business and let us do the same. Every time I see these creatures, I have to remind myself to breath. Either that, or I think of Crush from Finding Nemo, and have to giggle.

During this dive, we were not only visited by turtle after turtle, but also what I would consider a slightly less welcome guest: a Bull Shark. I know -- sharks are cool and you know what, when there is a family of White Tip Reef Sharks hanging out, I'll be there on the front lines checking them out. But for some reason -- I don't know, maybe it's because along with the Great White and the Tiger Shark, they make for the most brutal/deadly shark attacks -- I'm not one to go swimming after one. So when a large dark shadow slowly comes in my general direction, I don't make too many sudden movements. I quickly saw that it was a shark but when I saw those teeth I stayed exactly where I was. Unlike some of the other people in my group who, with leg cramping speed, kicked their way towards the shark, camera-hand clicking away. My first though? Better him than me. At least the shark will find him more interesting. People don't go swimming towards a Great White, right? In fact, you sit in a cage with those guys. I very often doubt the life preservation skills of my fellow man.

And you know... he didn't even get a good picture...

Parental homelessness

PLAYA DEL CARMEN, MEXICO

My parents have chosen to be homeless for a while. They sold their house and bought a new one. Except they tore that house down. It's going to take some time for a new one to stand in it's place, so until that time comes, my parents are going to play the part of the vagabond. They have decided that the first stop in their vagabonding will be Playa del Carmen in the Mayan Riviera. I couldn't let my parents go on this beach adventure by themselves, so my boyfriend, Marc, and I decided to go south for the winter. While my parents, little sister and her son would be in Playa del Carmen for a bit more than a month, Marc and I would join for, what I considered a measly 2 weeks.

I love the warmth. People always talk about how great it must be to live in San Francisco because the weather is so nice, but truthfully, it's a bit cold for me. I like the tropics. And I believe that Mexican winters are the way winters should be: 80+ degrees. Landing in Cancun Airport, I was immediately struck by the humidity and warmth. Not to mention the swarm of taxi and hotel salesmen waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting tourist. It really is a bit of a nightmare to walk in to. You are coming off a plane into a country that you probably aren't familiar with and before you even step outside, before you even fully clear the secure area, there are 50 people yelling at you to "come this way!" I looked straight ahead saying "no, thank you," "no, no, no" and still they kept coming. One tour bus driver even jumped in front of Marc and started flipped the tags on our suitcases, asking "where is your voucher?" I had no idea what he was talking about but the aggressive nature of these salesmen really made me stop and look shocked for a second. After collecting myself and fighting through the salesmen/tour people, we finally made it outside where my parents were waiting. The person waiting area is tiny compared to the sales area!

I love the small, torn up, hectic and chaotic streets that make up Playa del Carmen. A 40min drive south of Cancun, Playa del Carmen is a town of about 100,000 people. Although founded many years before Cancun, it is now smaller, probably because Cancun has gotten to famous thanks to Spring Break. But because it's smaller, it has managed to hang on to it's roots a little more. I'm not saying that it's untouched, because it's definitely not. You can, in fact, get away with not speaking a word of Spanish during your entire stay, and if you stay in the touristy area of 5th Ave, you can even get away with using only US dollars.

Of course, that is not what my parents had in mind. My father, having been born and raised in Mexico City, will almost scoff at my suggestion to go shopping on 5th Ave. Don't even mention going to Coco Bongo (although I secretly want to). My parents rented an apartment about 15min from 5th Ave, as well as a car, so that they could get around and really just live here.