Egg-streme Massage

Bette Davis's quip "Old age isn't for sissies" applies to undergoing a Mayan massage with native Islanian Martha. It takes fortitude. This middle-aged woman has the strength of a linebacker.

 Nancy's and my favorite massage therapist on Isla Mujeres, Maria Luisa Harmel (see blog post Mystic Massage), has been back in the U.S. for awhile, so we needed an alternate. We asked around, and Martha [pronounced Marta] was recommended.

 Martha's husband acts as the massage table sherpa, hauling it up to our 3rd floor condo. After he leaves, Martha sets up the table and covers it with our beach towels. She doesn't cover us with anything. It's simple and easy, and we don't have to leave home.

Nancy gets the egg treatment from Martha

 With an uncooked egg in hand, Martha raps various parts of the body. The egg responds to energy blockages and tells her where to work. These are not all gentle taps. They can be hard knocks, especially on the skull. If an egg breaks, it means the egg couldn't contain all the negative energy, and Martha digs in. Nancy has been having bronchial challenges, and two eggs broke, one on her back and one on a meridian that Martha says corresponds to her lungs. Without Nancy having told her, Martha zeroed in on the points that support lung health. Martha can go as deep and hard as we let her. I felt pain, but let her work on my blockages.

After two massages that felt extreme, the third time I asked for a gentle massage and she lightened up and give me the fluff and buff treatment, very relaxing. We like Martha and are pleased that she can adjust the intensity of her massage. We also like the Mayan customs of requiring no covering towel, massaging the belly, and, now, employing an egg as a diagnostic tool.

 After the massage, no one is to touch the egg. It contains energy that should not be released into the world. Martha puts the egg directly into the garbage.

 Martha comes from one of the original families on the island--born in 1966--when it was a sleepy fishing community, and what is now Cancun just a coconut plantation. When she was young, huge lobsters could be plucked a few steps from the beach. Now, fishermen have to travel miles off shore to find big lobsters. [For a wonderful history of the island see the blog in Isla Mujeres Magazine.]

Nancy and Becky at pool at Nautibeach on North Beach

 Still there is the fabulous north beach, voted one of the top ten of beaches in the world on Trip Advisor, and Isla Mujeres itself, voted the 6th best island in the world. There is plenty to love on Isla. Now we can add Martha to the list.

Friendly Connections

Carolyn Laine, Nancy, Becky, and Kitty Johnson at a Minnesota
State Park, camping in comfort in Kitty's little Navion RV

Another highlight of 2013 was time with friends. I wrote about the weddings of our closest couple friends, Ruth/Sandra Jo, and Amy/Terry (see "Love is the Law!" below).

But Becky and I were blessed with many sweet experiences with other friends as well. A sampling, in no particular order:

Costa Rican friend Joanna Marsh and Beverly McFarland,
of Albuquerque, on the Isla Mujeres ferry

 

Carolyn Laine's daughter Anniki Laine and Tom McDougall,
from Washington, D.C., on our Nautibeach balcony
We'll officiate at their Virginia wedding in October 2014

Patricia and my former partner Barbara
during a stay at their home in California

My oldest Napa Valley friend, Ruth Baetz, now of Seattle,
giving Becky and me a docent tour of the Japanese Garden



Myra Williams,
My old Living in Process friend
from Oakland, CA

Old friend Ann Risch, from U of Minnesota activist days and
 newer ally-friend Linda Bergh from Minn. Threshold Network



My 67th birthday with Elsa Greene, my
graduate school friend (Illinois State University) 1970-72

With Sandy Pollock and Ana Zamora, buddies from Costa Rica,
on a sunset cruise near Isla Mujeres



Hiking in Napa with my godson Oscar Vega and his little brother Diego,
children of Caitlin Vega, grandsons of dear friend Lauren Coodley

Family Ties

Tim and Kate Manahan after snorkeling

Other big highlights of 2013 involved our families. My brother Bill and his son's family spent a week with us on Isla Mujeres, a first for them. Becky and I delighted in watching Tim, Kate, Jansen, and Owen discover the joys of our favorite place on earth.

Jansen and Owen Manahan, Isla Mujeres

We attended the Idaho wedding of Becky's nephew Scott and spent ten days in California with two of Bill's other sons, our sisters, and my godson's family, as well as many friends. 

Sarah and Becky's nephew Scott Havens arriving for their wedding
Ponderosa State Park, McCall, Idaho

Salad and grilled chicken with Ric Havens' and Vicki Bohan at their home in Lincoln, CA

Vicki Bohan and Becky Bohan near Vicki and Ric's cabin in Arnold, CA

Our first visit to Disney World, Orlando

We visited Universal Studios and Disney World with my sister Pat Anderson's family, screaming our way through stomach-dropping attractions and meandering through Disney exhibitions with an educational veneer. Harry Potter World was our favorite area, from Hogwarts to Butter Beer. Now Becky is reading all the Harry Potter books, following the example of Pat's grandchildren.

After five exhilarating days in Orlando, we drove across the Florida Panhandle with Pat and two of her grandchildren, Norah and Emmet, to St. Georges Island for our annual 5-7-day reunion. This year only 36 Manahan descendants showed up at this beautiful but very hot and humid beach location, not for the faint of heart.

Another highlight was the annual Work/Fun Day at Pat and Steve's farm in Madelia. Three generations of Andersons and Manahans pruned trees, stacked firewood, cleaned barns, and did other major and minor chores to keep the family homestead in good repair.

Manahan/Anderson annual family reunion, August 2014, St. Georges Island, Florida

Nancy's nephew Mark, with Norah and Emmet Anderson, Wakulla State Park, Florida, riverboat cruise

Bridge with niece Chuchang Chiu and grand-nephew Jimmy Manahan

Becky and I played a lot of bidge with those three generations at the family reunion and back in Minnesota with my siblings, a surprisingly deep pleasure full of intense competition, side-splitting laughter, and sips of Xtabentun, our favorite liqueur from the Yucatan, or Brady's Irish Cream-- better than Bailey's, we've discovered.

Becky and me getting ready to bid a grand slam--dream on--with my brother Bill and my sister Pat 

The four bridge-playing Manahan siblings, Madelia

And finally, 2013 marked the tenth year that Bill has been living with us at Rustic Lodge, a rich, playful, productive, joyful blessing in our lives.

Bill Manahan at Nautibeach Condos on Playa Norte with a fresh-pineapple home-made pina colada.

 Yes, the sand really is that fine and white, one of the miracles of Isla Mujeres, Mexico, just voted number 6 in Trip Advisor's list of the 10 best islands in the world. 

Driving in Mexico: Pluses

Why did we enjoy our road trip in Mexico? First there’s the joy of beautiful and surprising sights, for example mile after mile of trees laden with oranges along the Gulf, thundering waterfalls and pine-forested mountains of Chiapas, a breathtaking flock of flamingos in the Yucatan, and the eighth most visited aquarium in the world in Veracruz. (See our February 4, 2011 posting)

Second, delicious and inexpensive regional specialties made from fresh ingredients, like the artistic mango-on-a-stick pictured in our February 10, 2011 posting. One noon we pulled into an open-air restaurant far from any town, right on the Gulf of Mexico. Within minutes, we were enjoying fresh red snapper, savory beans and rice, a stack of hot tortillas, several piquant sauces, and a cold beer, all for under $10.

Third, friendly, helpful people. Everyone was helpful and patient with my Spanish as I bought a cell phone, had my teeth cleaned, applied for a senior citizen card, and took violin lessons. Having a car meant Becky and I got to meet skillful, creative mechanics who went out of their way to solve the water leaks that plagued our rusty old Buick. My new friend on Isla Mujeres, Adolfo, welded patches over the rust holes and then escorted me to the hard-to-find local lavacar, where we had a satisfying discussion of 12-step recovery, parenting, and homosexuality while the car was being washed.

Fourth, a sense of competence in dealing with conditions that don’t exist at home. Being in a foreign country, much less driving long distances in one, stretches a person. It is fun and satisfying to accomplish something that seems difficult and scary.

Fifth, day after day of compatible togetherness. Becky and I love road trips, and this one was especially sweet…probably because it was so adventurous. We worked well as a team. When one person was tired, the other seemed alert. We found ourselves talking through situations effectively, such as locating lodging or trying to figure out the procedure at the border. We loved listening to music and to books on tape. We read a novel out loud to each other—Water for Elephants. The long drives went by amazingly quickly.

People often asked us if we weren’t afraid of all the violence. We didn’t have any trouble and never felt in danger. The main threat we saw up close is to the economy of Isla Mujeres. Restaurants and hotel, including our Nautibeach Condos, were half empty because of people’s fears of Mexico. But Mexico is a huge country, and the Yucatan has a murder rate roughly equal to that of France.*

I’m grateful for the whole experience. Even so, next winter Becky and I will take a direct flight to Cancun. We’ll be breathing in that tropical air and gazing at the turquoise Caribbean waters about 3 hours after leaving Minneapolis!

*Minneapolis Star Tribune, Nov. 30, 2010, D8.

Pink Surprise

When the north wind blows over Isla Mujeres, Nancy & I often take a morning walk around Salina Grande, a brackish lake on the less windy south part of the island. Occasionally a roseate spoonbill appears there, running its large beak through the scummy water for a tasty breakfast.

Last year, only once did we spot its unmistakable pink feathers and long spatulate bill, like a huge gray tongue depressor with an enlarged end. Spoonbills feed by immersing their beak in water and swinging their head back and forth, snapping up small fish and crustaceans.

Normally roseate spoonbills like to be in a group (called a bowl). We tend to see only solitary spoonbills on Isla—maybe it’s the same one year after year. We spotted one when Nancy happened to have our camera in her pocket and was able to photograph this beautiful bird.

Becky

Wearing Flippers to a Museum

Whoever heard of wearing flippers to a museum?

Nancy and I did just that recently when we visited The Silent Evolution, a marine “museum” in the turquoise waters off of Isla Mujeres. Created by sculptor Jason deCaires Taylor, a British-Guyanese scuba diving instructor, this recent marine installation of life-size human sculptures is an eerie presence next to Manchones Reef, a swatch of ancient coral near Isla Mujeres (where Nancy and I spend several weeks each winter).

The 400 sculptures will become an artificial reef where coral and fish can thrive, relieving some of the tourist pressures on natural reefs in Cancun Marine Park, which draws over 750,000 visitors a year.

The Silent Evolution is a place where human intervention can renew and sustain nature in an aesthetically pleasing way. No rusty sunken barge containing toxic substances. This artificial reef is intentional and beautiful, the statues made from materials that will promote coral life.

As we snorkeled over the 420-square-meter installation, the silence and the human forms reminded me of the incredible archeological find at Xian, China, with hundreds of terracotta soldiers in formation, everyone a distinct individual. But here the Mexicans who were used for casting were ordinary people, not soldiers. They include a butcher, farmer, clerk, nun, nursing mother, children—just regular folks who could be milling around a town square that happens to be 30 feet underwater.

Although installation of “The Silent Evolution” was completed only this past November, fish are already swimming about, sea stars are finding anchors, and vegetation is sprouting from a cheek here and a hand there. Mexican marine and art agencies are finding a new way to promote life, to regenerate nature, and to bring pleasure to others.

For more information, check out the website The Silent Evolution. This museum is a must see, and one that will impress even kids.

Becky

[Note: Photographs used with permission of Jason deCaires Taylor. Check the above website for more pictures.

The Walls of MayaLand

“The Maya of popular history and legend didn’t disappear; they just stopped making big buildings,” says Martin Prechtel in his book Secrets of the Talking Jaguar about his fifteen years living in a Mayan village. I can actually see the imprint of prehistoric sea flora and fauna in the towering Mayan pyramids on the mainland and in the limestone walls we pass on our morning walks on Isla Mujeres.

At Luum Ayni (see previous entry) we saw Mayan men breaking boulders they had wrenched from the farmland. Owner Lisa Hernandez told us she marvels as these short workers tote rocks most men (including her husband, as Cesar himself agreed) couldn’t budge. The knack for handling limestone is deep in the culture memory, and these modern Maya know just where to land the sledgehammer to shatter the rock into the correct size for the Luum Ayni guest rooms they are building.

The skills of their ancestors are on display at Chichen Itzá, the most impressive Mayan ruins in the Yucatan Peninsula. The immense El Castillo Pyramid towers over the site, each piece of limestone in the four sets of wide stairways cemented into its proper spot. There are 364 steps plus the crowning platform, one for each day of the calendar year. At spring and fall equinoxes, thousands of people gather to witness the shadow of Kukulkán, the beautiful, powerful Mayan snake god, slither down these steps to bless the fertile earth.

At the base of this ancient pyramid, excavation continues, unearthing more beautiful stone work.

Nearby is a temple with huge jaguars and eagles carved into the rock. Upon closer examination, we see the eagles poised to devour human hearts. At other sites around the Yucatan, the ancient temples were disassembled by the Maya under the lash of the Spanish conquistadors and then re-assembled into Christian churches, sometimes right on top of the sacred ruins.

Now instead of temples or churches, Yucatan limestone is used in hotel and bank facades, in walls and houses. Here on Isla we see walls built in the old Mayan way, stones fitted into place with mortar, sometimes with shells or small stones or even paint as decoration.

On the eastern seaboard, a huge wall of rocks has been laid in place to cushion the huge waves that slam into the island during storms.

All of these walls are extremely labor-intensive in their creation, something that has not changed for ages.

Obama Esperanza!

We were walking through a local neighborhood in Isla Mujeres the morning after the inauguration. A gray-haired Mexican man was sitting in a lawn chair in front of his cement house, taking the sun and reading the morning’s news. He looked up, smiled at us, and called “Obama!” He held up his newspaper for us to see. The front page banner cried “Esperanza!”

Hope!

We grinned back and said, “Si se puede!” Yes we can!

Did he know we were Obama supporters? We were so happy that morning, perhaps we glowed. On the other hand, he no doubt had read the news the week before that for the first time in history, a US president-elect met with the Mexican president in Washington. D.C. Taking time to do so just days before taking office surely sent a message that Obama cares about US relations with Mexico. That gesture of respect may give people here a bit more hope.

The day before, we had spent several hours at Jax, a local open-air sports bar/restaurant. About 40 Americans watched the sea change happen in Washington. A passerby might have thought there was an important football game on because the bar was packed and everyone was totally focused on the five TV screens. Newspapers were spread out on the tables with big photos of Obama and headlines like “Sueno Realidad” – Dream Reality, referring to Martin Luther King’s dream being at least partially realized in the election of our first African American president.

On this Caribbean island, we cheered, we cried, and we got goose bumps witnessing this pivotal moment in U.S. history. We felt close to the other Americans, friends and strangers alike, who cheered Bill and Hillary when they appeared, who roared when the camera first picked up Barack, and who rose at the end of the ceremony, tears spilling from many eyes, to sing the national anthem. We were proud of our country, proud of the course correction we are making, and thrilled to have shared this moment in a small bar in Mexico where the people seem as happy as we are to have a new US president.

P.S.
A couple of days later, we were on the mainland doing errands in Cancun. Our taxi driver told us that his ex-wife and their grown children, who live in Dallas, are delighted by the election. They have, he confided, “Obamamania.” Not a term we ever anticipated hearing from a Spanish-speaking cabbie.

Mystic Massage

I was on the table yesterday under the hands of an extraordinary body worker. Nancy and I have gone to Maria Luisa Harmel of Isla Mujeres, Mexico, for years, and every massage is an adventure.

First Maria Luisa does away with the modesty sheet, so I am totally exposed. (She would use a sheet if I wanted one, but let me tell you, it is fabulous to do without!) Then she puts eucalyptus oil on her hands and holds them under my nose so I can breathe in the strong vapors of this medicinal plant. She rubs my scalp vigorously and then moves to the rest of my body.

For over an hour, Maria Luisa slathers on different oils for various areas of my body and rubs and kneads, vibrates and bends, stretches and pulls. As her hands fly from my shoulders to my ankles, I feel as if I were a piano and Maria Luisa the genius musician.

During her massages I almost always have a deep sense of my soul being just a resident in my body. My mind seems to zoom to the outer galaxies and I look back at this little speck of dust called Earth I feel so much love and joy for this home and for the physical form I am inhabiting for such a short time.

Not only do I walk (stagger) away from the massage totally relaxed, the knots rubbed out, the energy points revitalized, and my skin aglow, I also have a sense of profound spiritual wellbeing.

On that little rectangle of a table, my soul experiences a connection to the Infinite.

Becky

P.S. Maria Luisa's email address is mlydogs@hotmail.com.