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Cancun, Mexico - Poverty on the edge of paradise

Mexico! My first thoughts were why on earth go to a dirty, third world country when Europe is at my doorstep. But after some consideration I thought, why not, and to my unexpected delight I discovered a relatively unexplored haven known as Cancun (pronounced Cancoon).

It was created in the late seventies after a survey showed it had the best year round weather - that being hot and tropical. It is situated on the Yucutan Peninsula, facing the Carribean Sea and was an alligator infested swamp before becoming this water enthusiast’s and sun worshipper’ s paradise.

A 20 minute bus journey takes you from the brick shack known as Cancun International Airport to the strip of new concrete hotels structurally reminiscent of Mayan Temples that once dominated the area. The area was devastated during Hurricane Gilbert in 1988. It is now rebuilt, and comprises a long island joined to the mainland by a bridge at each end. On one side there is the Nichupte Lagoon with
its bustling marinas, whilst on the ocean side you have the inviting turquoise crystalline waters lapping the white sands that stretch the length of the island, some 5 kilometres. The storms claimed most of the beach, but it is slowly reverting to its full glory as the sands are being washed back onto the shore.

Choosing a hotel is hard, as each one is trying to outdo the others with either their amenities, luxuriant
surroundings or services that they offer. For about £30 a night I stayed at the first class ‘Fiesta Americana Condessa’ which is typical of the hotels in the area. Each room has a view of either the lagoon or the ocean. Also, most have a balcony where you can relax and enjoy a cold beer while the trade winds cool you down after a hard day in the sun.

The room itself was large, accommodating two double beds, cable TV, a well stocked bar and a safe. The bathroom (which every room has) had sachets of shampoo, conditioner, body moisturiser, a hair dryer and a water purifying machine. At night the maids would roll down the bed covers and leave a chocolate on the pillow.

There was only a short stroll to the beach, but unfortunately the lack of protection made it slightly
windy. This particular week, the seas were rough and so after being caught in one too many on-shore dumpers, I decided to make the even shorter stroll to the pool. Here there were beach towels, swim—up bars, volley ball courts in and out of the water, sun shelters (to protect my acquired English tan) and beach wear fashion parades everyday. Waitresses served drinks (although rather watered down) from 10.OOam onwards. Sunchairs were also placed in the shallows of the pools so that you could hang
your hands and feet over the edge when you began to warm up.

I was told that Cancun had a great nightlife, unfortunately, I couldn’t find it as the place was full of
honeymooners and young families. The hotel had happy hour at 6.OOpm where you could have two cocktails for the price of one, and if you were lucky enough to win the bingo, you could have two cocktails of your choice. But after 7.Oopm there wasn’t much to do but sit at the bar. The disco’s
didn’t start till l1.OOpm but I was too bombed out from all the cocktails to go by then.

If lazing in the sun all day is too hard to handle you could break the monotony by spending the day snorkling or scuba diving the reef off the coast, or you could travel, as I did, deep into the Yucutan to the Mayan Ruins of Chichen Itza.

It was a three hour journey to the ruins by bus, and as we travelled along, the real Mexico that I had expected began to unfold. As we left the coast, the concrete jungle and beaches I had become accustomed to, changed progressively to swampy low lying bush and then finally to tropical rainforests.

Every so often we would pass through small towns where the buildings were reminiscent of those westerns I once watched when there was nothing else on TV. The women dressed in traditional ‘huipils’ (a square necklined white tunic with embroidered neck and hem), while the barefoot children were running around with their big brown eyes wondering what we were looking at. Old cattle trucks carrying loads of men to work would hoot as they passed. People walked around the town carrying out their business. I noticed that there were many chicken shops and each small town had a church.

The vast, flat countryside was spotted with shacks made of tin or sapling trees topped with palapa leaves. Large families live in these typical tiny Mayan squats on dirt floors. They often had chickens roaming in the yard and the women were outside tending to the vegetables. After gasps of horror at the living conditions, our tour guide explained to us that “... this isn’t poverty we are seeing, it is a way of life”, yet she was quick to discourage the beggars that hovered around us on our 100 stops.

She talked about how the people of this region are of Mayan decent, mixed with Spanish or Red Indian. The educated Spanish Mexicans are lighter skinned while the more lowly Indian Mexicans are darker with a longer nose. Even today Mayan people are born with a birth mark the bottom of their spine which decreases in size with age — fortunately our robust tour guide wasn’t going to show us hers.
The 10 square kin ruin site was dominated by the 24 metre high ‘El Castillo’. You could climb the 365 stairs (one for each day of the year) and have a perfect view of the surrounding jungle still engulfing a lot of the ruins - that is, if you make it to the top! Our guide warned us only to walk up 20 steps, turn around, and look down. If the sight of the steps disappearing like a slippery dip scared you, then you should not attempt to go any further. I made it half way up before I decided to slither down on
my backside.

Carvings of a serpent appear on every structure, as this is believed to be the sign of fertility. During the Equinox a bright strip of light appears on the northern steps of the temple, which has the appearance of a serpent, which the Mayans used as a sign to plant and sow their crops.

You can walk through the ‘Great Ball Court’ where teams once played a game with a 12 pound hard ball, throwing it into carved stone circles. A privilege was then bestowed on the winning captain, being the honour of losing his head. Or it was a short walk through the humidity, almost unbearable by this time of day, to the ‘Sacred Cenote’ or sacrificial well where many trinkets and human bones have been found after being sacrificed to the Gods.

After exploring the old ruins we drove back through darkness (as they do not have streetlights on their
dirtways, I mean highways) back to happy hour at the concrete civilisation I knew so well. I remember looking at the workers in the hotel now, wondering what they thought about all this luxury - then going home to a tin shack!

For this third world part of the country, tourism is the number one money maker and those who are established in the industry know how to cater to the American standards and charge you for it. Most prices in the hotels for meals etc, were on par with American prices, thus not making it as cheap as expected. They catered for my every whim so I didn’t even have to leave the hotel grounds. If you did,
beware the Timeshare Salesman. He will offer you anything to get you to look at what is on offer. I was promised free cocktails, free dinner and my day trip to Chichen Itza for half price.

Timeshare Salesmen aside, being another ‘gringo’ in the many cantinas was fun and good value. The food was glorious, and not just taco’s either. Fresh fish, lobster and shrimp were plentiful and you mostly chose the way you wanted them cooked. You could try the Ceviche which is classified as raw fish, but is marinated in vinegar with onions, peppers and spices and served on rice — very nice!
Conch was very popular served fried in bread crumbs. Chicken and beef were served in onions, green peppers and sauce, and wrapped in soft tortillas with Salsa Sauce (a spicy tomato and onion sauce) - simply a must! Guacamole was plentiful, fresh and truly yummy - even better washed down with a shot of Tequila. If these delights weren’t enough, McDonalds was in the centre of town along with many
pizzerias.

I found the shopping expensive and disappointing. Trinkets looked cheap and nasty, though, if you found a street stall you could pick up an authentic handmade wood carving of a Mayan God, some jewelry or a blanket. Shopping malls are springing up all over the town with money exchanges (which you don’t need as they accept US Dollars), car rentals and designer stores — but who goes to Mexico to pick up the latest Chanel! Of course T-shirts were plentiful and how could I resist my ‘I’ve been to Cancun too’ shirt in psychodelic pink.

As my last day was approaching, I basqued in the sun once more reflecting on the two sides of Mexico I had experienced, that of the luxury holiday playgrounds along the coast and the poverty inland. Which one would I like to experience again — Yes, both of them.

I went on a package tour in November from LA which included my flight and 7 nights accommodation in a first class hotel for about £400.

Author: Sharyn McCullum

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