Jeff and I LOVE dressing up for Halloween. We'll spend hours (usually on Halloween) trying to create our costumes. And now we have a little one who we can inflict costumes of our choice on and so we did so with relish this year - three costumes for Socha. So here are the three costumes, followed by a review of most of our costumes since 2006 (we didn't take any pictures of 2011 (he was a pirate, I wore my Balkan dance costume). Enjoy...
Pumpkin number 1
Pink Poodle
Pumpkin number 2
2006: Trinity (from the Matrix) and the fairy Godfather
2007: Trinity again and ??? (but check out those shoes and that hat!)
2008: The Just Us Squad - Internet Man (Sam), the Monopolist, the Decider, and the Purple Protector (Erin) (actually one of the funnest Halloweens on record)
2009: Trinity yet again (I used this costume so much (a) because it's awesome! and (b) because I made it; it has been bequeathed to my friend, Amanda, who now resides in Paris, France - I expect to see pictures some time soon...)
2009: Paperclip
2010: Floyd Black (the founder of ACS in Bulgaria)
2010: Professor Umbridge
2012: Jeff is Think 80/20 Man (this is one of his projects this year where he is trying to convince everyone on campus to reduce, reuse, recycle 80% and throw only 20% away as trash). I am an original Star Trek redshirt (usually I do Yeoman Rand, but I didn't have the energy to deal with the hair and makeup this year).
I'm supposed to be packing right now, but packing sucks, so I figured it was a good time to write a little. I haven't had much of a chance to write since the insanity of our week-long hospital stay for Socha's birth.
The spring was hard. I knew all year leading up to this that it would be hard, but I didn't really know any way to prepare for it. There probably was no way to do it anyway.
We came home from the hospital on Sunday night before classes started again. I was lucky that our hospital-cation happened during spring break, so I didn't need to worry about making sub plans or whatever. As we arrived home though, we were both pretty overwhelmed. The birth was emotionally and physically draining (for me! I can only imagine what it was like for Shannon), and then we were told by the doctors to give Socha formula within the first 24 hours because of Socha's jaundice, in addition to having her suffer the indignities of a day under the UV lights (looking back on those early photos, she was remarkably orange!). Neither of those were in our plans, just as having an induced birth and lots of pain meds hadn't been in our plans - we were feeling a little shell-shocked as it was.
Arriving home was when it really slammed me (and I think Shannon too). Suddenly there were no doctors, nurses, and lactation specialists around to help, but there were high school boys living just outside my office that needed my attention, classes to design for a sub, a whole bunch of baby gear that we brought home from the hospital that had to go somewhere, and Shannon's parents sleeping in our living room (we were glad to have them around to help out and meet their granddaughter, but I think I didn't expect the physical incursion on our space when I was already in an emotionally fraught state). My friend Jodi wrote an excellent post about the joys of being a mother in a country that has good medical care, maternity/paternity leave, and state-supported child care. That country is not the United States, sadly. In my first year at this job, I didn't qualify for any official paid paternity leave. My various supervisors were generally supportive, and didn't balk when I said I would be taking the first 2.5 days off after spring break (though I did have to spend that first night home from the hospital trying to make a lesson that would keep my students productively occupied while I was gone). That's all the leave I took. I told them that I might want to take more later on as needed, but I chose not to. I could have taken unpaid leave or even sick leave, but I would have still spent time planning and probably grading, so I'm not really sure I would have ended up with a net increase of time, just a loss of pay. Of course, there is always the work-guilt functioning too: it was the end of the school year and the AP exam was coming, and I didn't want to drop the ball for my students after all the hard work we'd all put in already. It's going to take some practice and discipline to carve out time for my family at a job where there are no boundaries between work-place and home-place or work-hours and home-hours. Even summer has thus far been more full than I would like with meetings and lingering (or preparatory) work.
In addition to the demands of teaching, dorm duty, Socha and Shannon (who needed her own TLC with all the physical, hormonal, and emotional adjustments to being a new mom), spring also brought my first season coaching an after school activity. It was called "Elements" and it was an outdoor education group. It was actually a lot of fun, going hiking (usually), mixed with climbing, canoeing, rafting, and horseback riding, but it meant 10-15 hours a week more that I wasn't spending with family.
Socha had a hard first few months. She was born on the small side (6 lbs 14 oz) and skinny (she was long), with jaundice. Breastfeeding was (and to some extent continues to be) a constant battle. On the plus side, Socha latched on right away and started to feed. On the down side, there were concerns about whether Shannon was making enough milk. We met with many different lactation consultants, talked to supportive friends/neighbors/relatives, read nursing blogs and books, and tried half-a-dozen different feeding "systems" trying to figure out what would work. Bottle feed before the breast. Bottle feed after the breast. Take a break in the middle. Don't use the bottle - it will spoil them for the nipple. Tried an eye dropper, tried a syringe (alongside my pinky finger, which Socha happily sucked away at). We tried a "supplemental nursing system" with thin hoses that attached to Shannon's nipples to try to make Socha not prefer a bottle to her breast. There was plenty of breast pumping too - Shannon complained of feeling like a "femme-bot." Our pediatrician didn't really help - she was clearly intellectually but not emotionally committed to breast-feeding (she told us that she herself had tried but that it didn't really work for her). Because of this lack of comittment, she seemed more worried about where Socha fell on the weight/age charts (way, way down) than how to help us breastfeed, and kept giving us more things to try to get Socha to fatten up. It was very emotionally draining for Shannon, who despite all encouragement, I'm sure at times felt rejected by her daughter when the breastfeeding sessions went badly, or felt like a disappointment at her difficulties nursing.
The first few weeks were a daze. I was trying to help some with the feedings in the wee hours, and even when I didn't do the feedings just the baby screaming before/after was enough so that I didn't get very good sleep. (Shannon's nights were certainly much harder than mine, but I'm writing this, not her!). The colic started in earnest around 6 weeks. There was no time that Socha was awake and not crying, unless she actively was eating at the time, and that only worked sometimes. Several times Shannon woke me up at 3 or 4 am, when both mother and daughter were sobbing. Time for me to sub in. I couldn't always do much, but it was at least time to give mom a break. The "baby hawk" carrier was my go-to tool. I put Socha in the carrier nuzzled up against my chest and went for a walk. I would often walk pretty funny bouncing a lot, until she stopped screaming and I could just walk normally until she drifted off to sleep. I walked up and down main street a lot, always wearing earplugs. I am thankful to live somewhere with safe streets for walking, though some nights I definitely got some looks from the night watchmen. I have a fond memory of one walk that started before the sunrise and ended when I had to hand her off so I could go to work. Tough day at classes, but a beautiful time to be awake. When she was really angry, it was very difficult to get her in the carrier in the first place, because her body was too stiff. After 10 minutes of walking or so, she usually relaxed and let me cinch her into the carrier. As the colic got worse, I had to walk further and further before Socha settled.
Oddly, this initial colicky period was actually one where I started getting better sleep, because Socha wouldn't sleep at all unless she was attached to mom. She wouldn't go in the swing, wouldn't go in her bassinet. In desperation, Shannon took to sleeping on the couch with Socha on her chest. This lasted for about two weeks before Shannon weaned her back to the bassinet. I feel bad writing this, because it was a very hard time for Shannon, but it was the best sleep I've gotten since Socha was born, except for those nights where Shannon woke me up to help out. Shannon wasn't sleeping on the couch, but I was out cold in bed! It was during this time, when I was starting to feel like life was semi-manageable, that I heard from a colleague that one of my students had said "I never want to have kids. Mr. Jewett just looks like hell all the time!" This coming when I was starting to feel like I was doing better!
School was hard - some days I was definitely a mess, but I'm glad to have supportive colleagues. Shannon didn't want to bring Socha to any crowded places during the first 6 weeks (to avoid germs, as infections are particularly risky during this period, according to our pediatrician), so Shannon was pretty much a shut-in, except for evening walks with me. Many of our neighbors had helpfully brought over casseroles and such, which kept us from starving (definitely no time to cook), and I brought Shannon food home from the dining hall when I could. The kids in the dorm hadn't seen Socha at all - they weren't really convinced she existed at all.
Various "milestones" on the suggested baby growth charts came and went without much notice from Socha. I think she was holding a grudge about being kicked out of the womb early and was not interested in anyone's charts. The doctor thought we would start seeing smiles around 6 weeks. We were desperate for some smiles, as so far we were putting immense amounts of time and emotional toil into this little creature, without much payback. Pooping, eating, and screaming, not really in that order.
6 weeks came and went, then 7 weeks, then 8. We didn't really get anything resembling a smile until 10 weeks, and even that was half-hearted and only on the changing table (of all places). It was 12 weeks (Father's day, actually) when we really got some full-on smiles. Oh, that was nice. Huge sigh of relief and heart-melting joy.
We tried lots of things for the colic (which no one really knows what causes it still - maybe it's digestive, maybe it's nervous system, who knows?). We've tried 4 different formulas. We've tried different feeding methods. We've monitored what Shannon is eating (though haven't yet done an allergy-elimination diet). We bounce. We walk. We sway. We bounce some more. I do the football Heisman pose (which does help). We have her on simethicone (anti-gas) and zantac (for acid reflux). We doubled the dose of the zantac. We bought some expensive and finicky bottles (Dr. Brown's) that are supposed to eliminate gas intake and help with colic. Meh. The doctor claimed at her 3 month check up that Socha should grow out of her colic soon, and it would likely be an overnight "like a light switch" kind of thing. We have a poll on Facebook asking for when that lightswitch will get switched. We're hoping it's now-ish. It might be.
As the school year closed, we took Socha out more and more, to the dining hall (where we happily passed her off to eager baby-holders) and on walks around town. A few colleagues missed having a baby to hold, and actually asked me if they could babysit. "Um, OK." So far we've had wonderful free babysitting from Kris and Beth (twice), and Heidi is in line next. Those were welcome nights out (dinner & a movie, the school play, and dinner & a massage).
When I finally had the last faculty meeting of the school year, I was afraid that I would be occasional-meeting-ed to death all summer if I didn't just make a clean break with school, so we packed up the Subaru with all the baby crap (and baby!) and headed off to Maine. We visited Aunt Barb and Uncle Jim Haughey at their lake cottage. It was a good practice road trip (200 miles...she did pretty well, despite slowing us down a lot due to regular feedings), it was nice to see the family, and it was great to go sailing. At first I think Barb thought she would "fix" Socha, but she learned pretty quickly that Socha was just a frequently-mad little girl. At it's worst, Socha would sometimes cry in her sleep, or wake up crying (not from being hungry or tired). It was hard for a parent to bear. I don't know how single parents with colicky babies handle it - Shannon and I both had times where we were losing it and had to hand our little bundle of joy off to our partner for a while. Shannon has the patience of a saint, and nearly always handles Socha with smiles and love, even when she is being ear-splittingly mad.
Last week my sister Jenny and dad came to visit (with toddler Helen). I assumed all along that Socha would be an angel for them, so that they would be convinced I was making all this colic thing up. To some extent that was true, but Socha is still not quite there yet. It is a lot better than two weeks ago (maybe due to higher antacid dose?), but not yet colic-free, in my first-time-parent estimation. The only reason I have energy to write this retrospective is that it's summer and she is doing much better already.
About a month ago (under advisement from the lactation consultant), we conceded that Shannon was probably just not ever going to fully breast feed Socha. We would have to do just breast + bottle (or give up entirely for the bottle) for the duration. Thought this was disappointing, it gave us the freedom to drop a lot of the rigamarole that Shannon was doing trying to increase her milk supply (including the femme-bot pumping). From then on we just did bottle + breast at every feeding, and are generally not pumping anymore. Funny thing is that I think the simplified (but by no means simple!) feeding plan took enough stress off of Shannon that she is producing more milk now (yay). Still probably not enough to go solely breast, but better.
And now Socha is seriously fattening up. She went from the 6th percentile (weight/age) at her two month check-up to the 13th percentile for her 3 month check up. I bet if we took her in today, she'd be much higher. She has been on a serious growth spurt the last week or so, demanding food pretty much all the time. She has pudginess and rolls that she never had before. My sister is convinced that Socha got visibly bigger during the 5 days she was here, and I think she's right.
It feels good to think things are stabilizing with the feeding, and the colic is getting better, even if it's not gone. Socha is starting to smile now. That's wonderful. Today was a new milestone. After her early morning feed, Socha wouldn't go back to sleep. Shannon wanted to sleep, so I took over "shushing" duties. I got Socha quiet, but oddly, she didn't go to sleep. Historically, if she'd just get calm and not wiggling/crying, she'd go to sleep, often rather instantaneously. Today, not so much. I tried to get her to sleep for 10-15 minutes, but her eyes were just looking around the fairly dark room, though she mercifully wasn't crying. Ok...I guess it's time for a mobile over the bassinet. I got her up and was going to go for a run or walk, but tried putting her on her tummy instead. The doctor has long recommended regular "tummy time" to build neck strength, but she always got so angry that we have done next-to-none. Today I gave it another shot, and she wasn't too angry. In fact, she managed to turn herself over from stomach to back, twice! (A few other times I tried, including when Shannon was watching and while recording on the camera, she was unsuccessful). Yay! Her first rollover.
Socha is also a lot more fun to play with these days. It seems she likes (tolerates?) when we dance with her, which has been frequently as we're packing. We're moving to our new campus digs soon (shortest move ever - only 200 m - but we get a moving company!). After that we'll be heading out to the the midwest to visit friends and family (oh, and go to Cedar Point. Shannon's never been. That will be awesome - good thing Grandpa Tom wants to drive down to Sandusky from Lansing to watch Socha while we ride roller coasters). We took Socha to Boston on a day trip last week, and she's getting better in the car - I hope she likes the longer haul to Minnesota.
This may have been a complaining blog, and the last three+ months have been difficult, but I wouldn't trade them for the world. Socha has spunk and I'm looking forward to when she's not tormented by the colic. She already makes great faces. Shannon is a wonderfully kind and caring mother, and I have enjoyed getting to watch her grow into this new phase of her life. It's fun walking down the street (like in Cambridge, MA last week) and watch people watch Socha - especially when they think she is a newborn (instead of 3+ months old). The women invariably can't stop staring, like what men would do if a topless women were walking down the street. The men occasionally smile, but usually get really uneasy because of the excitement their wives/girlfriends are showing over the baby. Mostly, I've enjoyed staring into Socha's eyes, playing with her feet, dancing with her, taking long walks, dipping her toes in the river, reading her stories, and seeing the joy start to come into her eyes. It's going to be a fun (and tiring) ride.
Whew...enough rambling. Back to packing. Here are some photos from Socha's third month to keep you all enjoying her wonderfulness.
Well, we're not doing a great job of keeping a written journal of Socha's life, but we are doing fairly well keeping a photo journal. She just has so many cute expressions and is especially adorable when she's sleeping (and thus not crying!). Here's another batch of photos of mostly Socha with a few of her parents thrown in for good measure. I promise that this time there are no "spit-up" photos!
Hard to believe that Socha is 2 months old today. In theory, we're 2/3 through the colicky period. Since we started giving her an antacid she has been much better - still colicky, but at least not screaming-crying all day long now, just for short periods in the evenings. And I've been working on getting her back to sleeping in her bassinet (some of the pictures show her sleeping on my chest - we did that for about 2 weeks, where I was on the couch at night (boo), but now Jeff goes to the couch if he needs to sleep better).
Today was her 2 month well check with the pediatrician. She has gained weight - she's now 8 lbs 9.5 oz - but she's still in the low percentile range. So I have to add more supplement to her diet. Now my goal is to fatten her up in the next couple of weeks in hopes of getting her stronger so she will eat more efficiently and hopefully then be able to wean her off of the formula. I'm still breastfeeding - so at least she's getting the good stuff to some degree!
Socha is especially tired this evening because she had her first round of vaccinations today - 3 shots in her legs! Poor thing. I almost cried when she screamed from the shots. I did have to look away because I hate needles no matter who is getting the shot.
We were getting harassed by siblings, aunts, grandparents, friends, mailmen...all wanted more Socha pictures. Somehow the act of downloading, choosing (that's the hard/slow part), uploading, and labeling seemed too daunting a task when just eating and showering is more than Shannon and I can manage on some days right now. In honor of Earth Day and Socha's 1-month-a-versery, here is a BIG slideshow of all of her many faces. The first 2/3 are mostly of her sleeping, as the other things she does often involve dirty diapers or boobs, which aren't so great as public internet slideshows. Last night we got lucky, and she treated us to a show of her amazing facial repetoire. She often makes little troll faces, sometimes angelic faces, often with only a very abrupt segue from troll to angel and back to troll. Be sure you check out the final slides, as I think they may be the highlight of this slideshow. Enjoy the show...
Our new daughter is named Socha Sage Jewett Savage. She was born at 8:40 pm at Cooley Dickinson Hospital in Northampton, Massachusetts on Thursday, March 22, 2012. She weighed 6 lbs 14 oz (3.14 kg in metric) and was 20 inches long.
Socha is her first name, Sage and Jewett are her two middle names, and Savage is her last name.
Socha is pronounced "SO-cha," like "SO what?" and "what-CHA" doing? The accent is on the first syllable. The spelling and pronunciation of her name is quite clear in Slavic languages (like Slovenian Soča and Bulgarian, where it would be Соча), but it is somewhat more challenging in English, as we lack a letter designated with the "ch" sound.
Where did this odd but beautiful name come from? Her name comes from the Soča river in Slovenia. The Soča river is the most beautiful river we've ever seen. The waters are crystal clear in a ridiculous minty-green color, reminiscent of the Caribbean.
Soča River on our trip in July 2011
The river flows out of Triglav National Park, full of outstanding mountains, including the highest in the nation of Slovenia, Mt. Triglav. We traveled to Slovenia last summer with Hanna Soltow, as the first part of our European road trip. We hiked to the source of the river and also rested our feet in its clear, beautiful waters. Socha was conceived on that summer trip (in either Slovenia, Italy, or Switzerland), and we wanted to connect our daughter to our wonderful years living and traveling throughout Europe. We loved the natural beauty of the Soča River, and were looking for a way to show our passion and appreciation for wildlands.
[The Soča River's] green-blue colour does not fade away completely even [at the sea], as if it would tell us that its heart belongs to the mountains and that is where it reveals itself in all its beauty, childhood liveliness and original purity.
I like that.
Later on, they write:
For people who live by the Soča, this river has a symbolic meaning - somewhere deep within the human spirit it occupies the place of an immortal memorial, representing natural perfection. One could measure the depth of its straits and the breadth of its pools; one can talk about its shades of colours, about its numerous rapids and waterfalls; but it is difficult to capture in rigid and unmoving words its total presence, which is not represented only by the flow of the water, but by its natural environment as well.
We can simply write that the Soča is beautiful, untouched, pure and perfect in its mountain current.
As for the middle name of Sage:
Shannon and I met, fell in love, and got married in Montana. We both love the wide open spaces and mountains of the West. To us, sage (Artemesia tridentata and similar species) is the quintessential smell of the American West. We also appreciate the other meaning of the word sage, meaning "having, showing, or indicating profound wisdom." Thank you to Becky Smith for mailing us an unexpectedly large package full of sage cut near Yellowstone National Park. We had her sage plants spread all over the delivery and recovery rooms and the smell was wonderful, keeping us both relaxed through some difficult days.
Shannon in labor with Becky's sage stuck in the IV cart.
Pictures of Socha Sage Jewett Savage will be in our next post. She's pretty darn cute, I'd have to say.
Happy End of the World! Well, not really. Our Mayan guides at Chichen Itza explained that the end of the Mayan Long Count would be December 21 (or 22?), 2012. But that would just start another counting cycle, and it was really no big deal, except they planned to market the hell out of it this year to earn some extra pesos.
[Interesting etymological note: “Yucatan” is the name of this peninsula and one of the Mexican states of the region. 500 years ago, when Cortez’s men used Spanish to ask the local Mayans the name of this place, they repeatedly answered “Yucatan! Yucatan!” and so it came to be known. Yucatan means “I don’t understand” in Mayan.]
There are no rivers in the Yucatan. No proper rivers that you can swim, fish, or paddle a canoe in, anyway. This seems a bit odd, considering it rains plenty here, with the southern parts approaching tropical rain forest (or tropical “dry/seasonal” forest, more exactly). But when the water falls from the sky, the ground doesn’t stop it. The whole Yucatan peninsula is made up of limestone. It’s karst country, to use the proper geological term. [“Karst” was first named in Slovenia, another wonderful place we visited in 2011 with plenty of turquoise water and nifty caves.]
When rain falls through the sky, it absorbs carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, and some of the water and C02 combine to form carbonic acid, which is why rain water is a little bit acidic naturally, even without man-made pollution making it worse. The acidic rainwater reacts with the limestone, dissolving it. The rain eats the rock. In areas with lots of limestone (“karst country”), the water seeps into the ground much more so than in many other areas, and travels in underground rivers. As the underground rivers dissolve the surrounding rock, you get caves. Sometimes the river eats away too much of the roof of the cave, and it collapses, giving you a sinkhole, or as they are known in the Yucatan, cenotes (“seh-NO-tays”).
The lack of surface rivers means that there is very little sediment pouring into the sea, meaning the water is generally very clear (high visibility), which is one reason why the Meso-American reef system (2nd longest in the world, I think) is such a popular snorkeling and diving location. Besides the reef off-shore, another diving/snorkeling location that is very popular in this region are the cenotes themselves. There are thousands of cenotes across the Yucatan. They were the basis of the great Mayan civilization, and all major cities had one or more cenotes. Some of them are large (several hundred meters across), many of them are deep (we swam in one that is 90m deep), and they all generally have steep sides or even sides that angle out from the shore as you go down (the reverse of a regular lake), meaning the surface area at the bottom is much more than the top. The water is usually very clean (unless they have been abused by humans) and startlingly clear.
We snorkeled in Cenote Azul near the southern Yucatan town of Bacalar (which is also on a 60 km long freshwater lake – very beautiful). It had a little restaurant on the side, but people were surprisingly good about observing the no littering rule, and they also tell you not to wear sunscreen or bug spray into the cenote for water quality (hard to say if people were observing this rule).
No picture from above can do the color of this water justice, but this picture at least shows how big this cenote was.
The water was refreshing. It felt clean. I like swimming in fresh water so much more than salt water. From the outside, I snickered a bit about the “Blue Cenote” monicker, as it didn’t seem particularly blue to me (maybe it was the low angle of the light). But when I got in…wow!
The water was so clear, it was hard to remember it was even there. My hands and toes and in front of my eyes seemed to just be floating there in nothingness (well, because you’re less buoyant in freshwater, I had to work pretty hard to “float,” but that’s another story.). There wasn’t an abundance of fish, but the fish that were there were very easy to watch, including lots of little tiny fish about 1 inch long and only maybe ¼ inch wide that were shiny and were mouth breathing at the surface, it appeared. When I lifted my head above the water, you couldn’t see the fish at all. There was a leaf fallen from the tree, yellow and rust colored, suspended in the water column, spinning in the light. It was mesmerizing. The fact that you couldn’t see the bottom (it was almost 300 ft/ 90 m deep!!!) and it was so clear really heightened the effect of floating in space. This particular cenote was generally cylinder-shaped, like a well, both very large (250 m across, maybe) and deep. The water was very near top of the geological depression (some cenotes are more hole and less lake), and the walls were thick with vegetation above the water line. The roots of the trees went down underwater along the outside of the rock 20-30 feet. Below that, there was nothing to see but the abyss.
Shannon didn’t like the cenote as much as me. Swimming over the abyss, with so much down below, was unnerving, and not being able to float as well in the freshwater didn’t help. So she had somewhat mixed feelings about the whole thing, but I loved it, and insisted that we visit another cenote the next day, on our drive back to Cancun.
The two most famous cenotes around Tulum are Gran Cenote and Dos Ojos. Dos Ojos (“Two eyes”) cenote is part of a cave system that extends tens of miles, and is apparently one of the longest systems in the world. It sounds like an incredible scuba dive, but my PADI certification is rusty and I don’t want to refresh it with cave diving, generally considered some of the most risky kind of diving you can do. You can snorkel there too, but without an underwater light I don’t think it would be that interesting (almost no natural light, I’m told), and I didn’t have time to rent a light from a dive shop. Gran Cenote was rumored to be friendlier to snorkelers and provide a better natural environment.
We accidently avoided paying the 100 peso entrance fee by parking in the commercial lot (for dive tours and tour buses). I guess sometimes it does pay to be a stupid gringo. This place was pretty crowded, and despite the name, was much smaller than cenote azul. The cenote is sort of horseshoe-shaped, and you can leave from several wooden platforms in the middle. There is only maybe 15 feet of open water between the platform and the opposite wall at most, but you could swim into some barely lit rooms and the area was larger. It was also much larger underwater. I could watch scuba diving parties with their underwater lights and be surprised how far away they were, discovering whole rooms that I wouldn’t have known were there. Cenote azul was like swimming in a huge well, but this was more like a flooded cave. There were stalactites hanging down into the water, sometimes just above, sometimes into the water. From the dark areas, you could look back towards the daylight and see beautiful blue and turquoise colors punctuated by shadows of stalactites and swimmer legs. Because there were more people in a smaller, shallower area, the water was not nearly as clear at Gran Cenote than at cenote azul, but the feeling of swimming around on top of a cave was unique and worthwhile. I would definitely like to come back and do some diving trips into these cenotes, because I think that that is how you see the majority of their awesomeness.
Our first day at Maya Luna was actually the only day that I
snorkeled. The beach we’re at is
“protected” by a reef that is about ¼ mile out, so although it was a bit windy,
we were still able to snorkel in the waters between. It’s not very deep and most of the bottom is
covered with sea grass, so it was a bit difficult to see any creatures in the
water until we actually got to the reef.
In the morning we actually tried to swim out to the reef, but I was
feeling a bit tired and wasn’t sure about being able to swim back to shore, so
we headed back to have some lunch and pick up some kayaks. With the kayaks we made much better time and
tried to actually go to the outside of the reef – until the waves started
tossing us around too much. So we came
back to the inside and Jeff tied the kayaks to his shorts and we snorkeled around
until we started getting chilly. There
were lots of sea fans and different types of corals. We saw all sorts of fish, big and small,
colorful and shiny. Snorkeling is one of
my favorite things to do – especially on a bright sunny day in crystal clear
waters. We had a mostly sunny day and
mostly clear waters, so not a bad day in paradise! We also saw an octopus! It was about plate-sized (including
tentacles). We watched it move from one
large piece of coral to another, then disappear beneath it. So cool!
The view from our roof-top terrace. Note the red water (explained below).
The water on this beach is interesting. We’re downwind from a small river that pours
out of a mangrove swamp. The water in
that river is literally blood red from the mangroves, so that
redness/orangeness flows into sea water.
Our beach actually looks like there’s been an oil spill, but it’s just
from the mangroves. When Jeff and I were
snorkeling near shore, we couldn’t even see one another from just a few feet
away because the water was so dark from this mangrove water. Kind of cool, kind of creepy. Carolien told us she learned that the
mangrove water is actually really good for the skin. Possibly helps reduce skin cancer. So hopefully my time out in the sun this week
will be compensated for by this colorful water.
We visited the “town” of Mahahual a few times to get some
different meals and to see what the locals were hawking. I say “town” because this area wouldn’t
really exist as a tourist center except for the cruise ship port that was
recently installed (within the last ten years or so). While we were here there were at least 4
giant (and I mean giant – floating cities bigger than many cities on the
Caribbean coast of Mexico) cruise ships docked.
So an insta-town sprung up to cater to tourists – trying to feed them,
give them massages, sell them anything, and most importantly, get them
drunk. There’s a really nice beach
walkway (called the Malecon) that runs for about 2 km. We ate at a couple of different restaurants
there, enjoying the sea view and the people watching. Seeing people getting massages on the beach
was somewhat entertaining. People of
different sizes and ages with much of their bodies on display – come to think
of it, I guess that’s not much different than seeing people of different sizes
and ages in bathing suits.
The beach in Mahahual. In the distance is one of the many very large cruise ships we saw.
On our third afternoon Jeff talked me into going for a late afternoon kayak off the beach at Maya Luna, before the sunset. As we got out to the reef, the sky looked impressively black off to the east. We couldn’t really figure out which way the storms were moving, and thought we’d be safe from that one. Three minutes later, we were getting dumped on. Luckily no lightning, and the rain was warm. Once back to shore, we actually went up to our terrace, stood in the rain holding each other, and watched the rain come down over the sea. It was excellent.
Our last full day in this area was spent checking out some
local ruins at Chacchoben – another Mayan archeological site that is really
cool and should be on everybody’s must-see list – and swimming in a cenote (see
Jeff’s next post) and swimming in a large freshwater lake. Chacchoben is a very small site, and had very
few visitors. It’s still covered in
jungle with a few structures cleaned up for viewing. It seemed so wild and so much more like
finding a site (Indiana Jones-style) than Chichen Itza did. While we were there, for the first time, I
tried fresh coconut milk – we watched the guy use a machete to cut off the end
so he could stick a straw in it. It was
delicious! I don’t usually like coconut
(both the flavor and the texture), but I guess that’s because I wasn’t tasting
the real/fresh thing.
One of the temples at Chacchoben.
The palm trees were huge!
We only got to climb part way up this ruin.
Man with a machete and a coconut.
Fresh coconut milk is surprisingly refreshing and yummy!
Cenote Azul was interesting, but as Jeff explains in his
post, he liked it a lot more than I did.
I guess I just couldn’t get over the fact that there was 300 feet of
water below me. It was beautiful,
though.
We only spent a few minutes at Laguna Bacalar. We walked out on a dilapidated old pier and
jumped into about 4 feet of fairly warm freshwater. Turns out it was not nearly as clean as the
water at the cenote. The sun was setting
by now, so we stayed in long enough to get wet and watch the sun go behind the trees. Then it was time to head back
to Maya Luna.
The waters of Laguna Bacalar as the sun sets.
We left Maya Luna this morning and made the long drive back
to Cancun. Jeff swam in the Gran Cenote
(see his post), while I watched and took pictures. (I especially don’t like the idea of swimming
in anything resembling a cave, so I didn’t even go in – what can I say, I’m a
wimp who has a few phobias).
It’s been a great babymoon.
I’m sad to be leaving, but as always, I’m also looking forward to being
home. I don’t think Jeff or I got much
sun – I was hoping to get back to Mass with my skin sun-kissed. But we were diligent about sunscreen, and I
suspect that the December sun is a bit weaker than the summer sun.
One of three small sting rays we saw - this one was about the size of a salad plate.
Another one of the three sting rays we saw - this one was about the size of a dinner plate. His tail made me a bit nervous being in the water.
Bees enjoying the flowers of a palm tree.
Jeff watching as two brown pelicans slam into the water, another gets ready to dive, and the fourth flies over looking for fishy food.
Yesterday was a fairly leisurely day – as Jeff mentioned in
the last post, the morning started out in the sunny courtyard of what must have
once been the party center of the Club Med of Chichen Itza. These days it seems this resort is more
family focused – although last night’s show seemed more like something you’d
want to see if you were taking some sort of hallucinogenic drug…
After taking our time eating and packing up, we finally left
Chichen Itza around 11am and headed for a slight detour before arriving at our
final destination. We decided it was
going to be worth the time and extra driving to go see the ruins at Ek’
Balam. And it was definitely worth it. As Jeff noted earlier, we couldn’t climb on
the ruins in Chichen Itza, but we could here.
I felt a little bad about climbing on these ancient ruins so I convinced
myself that most of them were actually reconstructed. The biggest structure – which claims to be
taller than El Castillo (the huge pyramid at Chichen Itza) – was actually under
reconstruction, so it didn’t take much to convince me that it was ok to
climb. And we did. It was the heat of the day and it felt
incredibly humid too, so by the time we got to the top, I was feeling a bit
light-headed. The view was really
spectacular – we could see how flat the surrounding land is (you can see for
miles in every direction) and a few ruins poking out of the wild jungle. This site is much smaller and much less
excavated than Chichen Itza, but really, really cool. If you ever visit the Yucatan, this is one
place not to be missed. There are
several mounds that have not been excavated, so they are covered in jungle, but
you can see that they must have been man-made.
Makes me wonder how the archeologists figure out which stone goes where
and what the mound actually was before it was taken over by flora. Since I was feeling light-headed, Jeff held
my hand as we descended the pyramid and I chose to remain in the shade for the
rest of the outing. Jeff galavanted
around the place, climbing up and over multiple structures. This is definitely the place for any Indiana
Jones wannabe’s out there.
Jeff balancing over the steep stairs overlooking the rest of Ek' Balam.
I was so happy to make it all the way up to the top. Now to get down...
Is that Indiana Jones I see?
On a side note – I tried a guanabana popsicle and really
enjoyed the flavor. Not to mention the
cold of the frozen treat.
Jeff tried to convince me that we should visit the cenote
that was adjacent to the ruins, mainly because it was really hot and this
particular cenote was off the beaten path and probably would be the most empty
of any that we might be able to see. I
was unconvincable, however, because it was past our lunch time and we both tend
to get the hungry bitchies if we don’t eat in a timely manner.
We ended up having a nice (and long) lunch in the town of
Valladolid. Our Lonely Planet guide told
us of a market/food court just off the main city plaza that lots of locals go
to, so we tried that. Our Spanish is fairly
poor – so trying to read a fully Spanish menu and talk to people who spoke no
English made ordering a bit difficult – I tried to order several things without
meat (I’m not vegetarian, just sometimes don’t want to try dishes with meat
from unknown sources), but was repeatedly told I couldn’t get that meal without
pork (or chicken). I finally just
ordered Huevos Rancheros (fried eggs on tortillas with a tomato sauce and beans
on the side) which was quite tasty. Jeff
was only going to get a small meal, but kept ordering plate after plate: fried
plantains, papas fritas (French fries), and pork tacos. We ended up stuffed. It was great! Meanwhile, we got to see a bit of the local
populace (along with tour groups and some individual tourists). It was a great stop.
Mmmm, tasty lunch.
Finally, we headed to our last
beach resort – in Mahahual, about 4 hours south of Cancun. We drove on several different very straight roads with little traffic
to finally find this wonderful little resort on the sea: Maya Luna. The proprietors are originally from Holland
but have been running Maya Luna for 9 years.
There are a total of 4 bungalows at this resort, each with their own
roof terrace and all about 20 meters to the water. We arrived late, but Carolien and Jan were
nice enough to fix us dinner (an interesting take on fajitas with a curry
flavor – very good). We decided we
really wanted to get in the water before bed, but we only walked a few feet in
(just above my knees) and decided that there were too many unknowns in the
dark, so we’d wait until tomorrow to check it out. We’ll be here for 4 nights and plan on
snorkeling and swimming and kayaking and pretty much relaxing and enjoying
ourselves for the last part of our babymoon.
