I arrived in Tulum and immediately crossed the street to check in at the hostel nearest the temple. The vibe of the people there wasnt necessarily welcoming, but it wasn’t unfriendly either.
The available bunk was right next to the bathroom door with an adjoining room that slept 16. The bathroom had 3 shower stalls and 2 toilets. When I finally sat on the toilet my knees were smashed against the door. The accommodations in general were shabby, especially after the first class experience on my maiden voyage to hostelworld in Playa del Carmen.
I was hot, tired and just wanted to see the temple. I dropped off my bag in a locker, changed into board shorts and took my free bike down the road to the temple entrance.
Laying Eyes upon my first Mayan Temple
When I passed through the wall entrance into Tulum, I cried upon first sight of the temple. A got goose bumps and a sense of familiarity like I’d finally come home. I knew that I’ve been here before in another existence…
I was bummed that no one was allowed to touch or climb these ancient structures. I get the sacredness, but the reasons were due to safety and vandalism. Another callback to my desire for a shift of global values.
I had so much appreciation for the Mayan vibration I was experiencing on the land, the structures and from the history if this place: more of an ocean outpost with a blend of several surrounding to keep an eye on the ocean transit than a temple of worship. And yet a truly sacred place.
I made my way to the beach and did a bit of qigong, shutting off my mind to the normal criticism I tell myself about people watching me. Some freedom about being in a foreign country and giving myself permission to just move and be as I felt called.
As the sun started to set, I watched the sun between a set of rocks and wandered the smaller ruins of Tumul until the site closed.
I met up with the ladies I had met in the bus from the night before for dinner. We stopped into a reggae bar and I met Mike Dread, the local DJ spinning some great music. But the place was dead and the girls wanted to party so we headed to Papaya del Playa, them by taxi and me taking the 5km ride by bus.
I arrived at the same time as 6 beautiful Mexican ladies in their mid 40’s. Because my bills were too big and the door people weren’t sure how much the cover would be in dollars, one of the managers came up and ended up letting me in for free, asking me to spend the money on the bar. His justification when the ladies gave him shit: “I’m taking care of my own kind…”. Quizzically the women pointed out I wasn’t Mexican. “he’s an hombre (man), like me and we got to take care of each other.”
The atmosphere was beautiful: mutli level bar wih thatched roof and lounge with electronic music. The dance floor was sand and the entire scene spilled onto the beach.
Papaya Playa Project
At one point I called aside the gal I met from the bus and had a fully transparent talk with her about how I found her super cute and sexy and I appreciated her being honest about he recent breakup. And I let her know that this trip for me was solely about me. Not hooking up. And I wanted to clear the air about it because there still was a part of me that did want to hok up with her. So I just came out and said it. That diffused things quickly. I felt a weight off my back and went back to dancing.
Later I made my way to the beach to observe a beautiful Mayan Tzolkin wheel complete with spinning gears, 13 numbers and 20 day signs. A I shared my knowledge with the Mexicans next to me, a dude with dreadlocks turned to me when he heard I was from Santa Barbara. Turned out he lived there, and was now in Ashland, Oregon and was going to be playing at Synthesis. I told him one of my friends from home was helping to do promotions and she was staying at my place while I was here.
Next ensued a fire dance, stilt walkers and some semi capoeira acrobatics, all performers dressed in Mayan ensemble and one cranking the wheel of the calendar we had just been admiring. A I heard a conversation behind me that peaked my interest between three women, instead of listening but not involving myself like I usually do, I gave my two cents and was immediately embraced. Within minutes I was using my iPhone to lookup Mayan birthdays.
I’m not sure how it started but there was some encouragement for two ladies to make out which then in turn had encouragement for me to experience the same. The lesbian was not impressed. The other blonde quickly lit a fire within me and we got talking.
She knew a local guy who ran sweat lodges every week. Now we we getting closer to my kind of people! I got her contact info and asked if she would introduce me. She said she was soon leaving to participate with Don Miguel Ruiz, the author of The Four Agreements in ceremony near Mexico City.
Best resonance I found yet. Got the details and it was surprisingly affable though the bus ride to Mexico City would be well over 30 hours. We all hung out on the beach, got to know her yoga friend who had just moved into Tulum and we all spent until 5am talking and dancing.
I walked her to her hotel just a few blocks down the beach and made an awkward attempt to invite myself in for a cuddle. The idea of climbing into he hostel bed at 5am in a room of 16 felt ridiculous. But the reality was the fire between us had faded as the night went on and it wasn’t really what the universe had in store for either of us.
So I rode home 5km on my bike and quietly got into the bed next to the bathroom door which had a ridiculous creak that sounded no less than 5 times as my arrival had instigated some bladder release from other bed dwellers.
I slept until 10am the next morning, which meant I missed the free breakfast, but a smaller, more Mayan version of Antonio Banderas made me a killer huevos con chorizo and I took my bike to the branch for a solo adventure