Maxine's Story ~ Vacations ~ Cozumel

Maxine's Story

Vacations ~ Cozumel

By now we have 9 grandchildren old enough to be so much fun. I taught pinochle to most of them. Jackie (again) arranged a week in a fabulous villa in Cozumel. We even had David on that trip, though I think he is still grumbling about it. I loved it! Dan, Dean & Doris and the Welch family. Dean rented a jeep. Dan a bike, and we had a van to explore that whole island. Then a little airplane took us to Chichen Itza.

Hot and crazy wonderful day. I'll never forget David standing with arms outstretched (red T-shirt, of course) at the very top of the largest pyramid. (No guard rail, of course.) Easy to spot and in fact a scene from a lot of places we've been, the places that had high spots especially. There is that bright red shirt and those big outstretched arms proclaiming something, I'm sure! Generations in the future who search old records and trace family lines will surely say “that tribe had a king! You can clearly see him overlooking his people and blessing them!” or something!

Well that hot day in those ancient ruins there he was on the very highest pyramid doing his thing while those of us with safety concerns sat in the shade and watched. Susan was so grateful she didn't have to make any such climb (and where were Don and those kids of hers??) Her eyes drifted along those foolish enough to be making such a frightening climb and one very small figure caught her attention. A tiny little girl, all alone, dressed exactly as Jesse was on that day and wo' wo' wo' it was—it couldn't be—but oh yes it was indeed our Jesse, heading right for our leader in the red shirt at the very top. Screaming at the top of her voice was of no use. She had to go (and Don showed up!) and go fast. They had to run over a two acre field to get to the base. But up they went. Found their baby (how old 3 or 9?) Now they were all on top! Mercy! I've been told that you can no longer make that climb on that pyramid. {NOTE from Dave: With good reason!!!}

(David....Would you please join me at this point and give us your version of this story and what it is like to be standing in such a precarious spot? And what did you proclaim to 'your' people? Come on now...make it interesting!)

{NOTE from Dave: Yep, I'd be happy to share my thoughts on that memorable day. The pyramid climb was almost 100', upon which sits the temple above that small flat area. Each stair step was about 13" or so high, so it was 2 or 3 times higher than a normal set of stairs. The steep 45° angle made it that much more difficult, and a rope was added to give climbers some stability. Being on top was not a comfortable feeling at all, particularly with the windy conditions. Even climbing to the top was an uneasy feeling, but the ropes did relax the fear a bit. Without them, one would have to worry about slipping or being blown into making a misstep, with the inevitable result being a quick trip bouncing all the way to the bottom! More can be learned about it at.....<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chichen_Itza>

Though I don't specifically remember Jesse climbing to the top, I do remember her being up there. And, it was scary! Each step to be rather arduous. The stones were much too tall to simply walk up like a normal stairs. They were each over a foot higher than the one before, and at a rather steep (45°) angle. It was easy to sit and rest on them, but not easy to simply walk up as one might expect. Fortunately they had ropes strung from the top so that people could use them as a makeshift handrail to pull themselves from one stone to another, and to help from being disillusioned due to vertigo Once on top though, it really became apparent how dangerous it was. The wind was blowing at a brisk clip...perhaps 25 or 30 mph, and there was absolutely no railing to prevent somebody from a headlong plunge into the rocky steps. There was a central structure (the temple), but two sides had a narrow walkway of a couple feet, maybe. The surrounding floor was uneven and somewhat treacherous. One had to be very careful because of the uneven stone floor which would be easy to trip on, as well as the undulating wind speeds. Fortunately, some shelter (and safety) could be found on the lee side of the structure, and two ends were a bit roomier, perhaps 10' or so wide. But walking around sans guard rails was quite dangerous. It was a rather uncomfortable feeling, as falling would take somebody all the way to the ground.

I also remember that Dean, Doris and I were all worried/concerned about Jesse's safety up there. It was obvious that even though she was more limber than any of us, one misstep would be her last! And she was certainly lighter than any of us, so a gust of wind would turn her into a human kite.

As to what I was proclaiming with my arms stretched out, I can't exactly remember all the words now, but I'm sure it was something to the effect: "HELP ME GET OFF THIS THING....RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I STUMBLE AND CRASH DOWN ON TOP OF SOME INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO DON'T DESERVE TO DIE YET!!!" Now, back to Grandma's story-line!}

I loved Cozumel. That villa was the best place on the island, or so we were told. The pool was so perfect! It came with a staff—where there 3 or 4 catering to our needs. One a man, and the ladies cooked nonstop. Well I can't remember lunch. I don't think we were around at noon. There was too much to see and do. The alligator reserve. The beaches on the other side of the island where the really large sea shells were, so we heard. I can't remember finding any, but great rocks to climb and be photographed in your red shirt with arms outstretched. {NOTE from Dave: Now I think Grandma is hallucinating!}

There was a tiny Catholic Church where you could sit and ponder and a collection box which Jackie and I contributed to. (Not much from me.) We found ruins (Mayan?)....Great picture background. Very tiny—very rural villages. Grass shacks that sold surprisingly good Mexican food. Oh the food! That was just about the best part of our stay. Those dear people at our villa spent hours and hours on every meal. Way before I was ready to get up they started; chop-chop-chop-chop-chop-chop-chop-chop—it all had to be fresh and chopped. Whatever it was, it was delicious. Couldn't pronounce any of it! Actually Dean was best bet for a translation. He had a young Mexican man working for him in those years and it really surprised me how well he could handle Spanish. Also Dan, who by the way never really came home.

There was nothing in our menu that looked like tacos, enchiladas etc. “Authentic” and delicious, and all freshly shopped. After that trip and we were home again, Jackie did the research and found the one place in Portland that had highly recommended “authentic” Mexican food, and made reservations and took us all. What a treat it was. A small restaurant named Blue (something) I think. Haven't heard of it for years. Must be gone.

But back to our favorite story from our stay in Cozumel. At least Susan and I have shared many good laughs over it.

We were there the week before Christmas—Dean's birthday is Dec 18. We hadn't seen any kind of a bakery, surely not a cake. So we put out the idea to our cooks. Not easy but with everyone's help we got the message across. We needed a birthday cake! What we got was a birthday cake like we had never seen before. Three layers, in a tier....like a wedding cake. Did it have decorations--I can't remember any! Jackie can you remember any kind of decor? {NOTE from Dave: I do not recall anything other than a plain frosted white cake.} It was huge and kind of a mess. (No cake decorator there.) It would have served a pretty good sized wedding! We sang our “Happy Birthday” song and began to serve our party. Pretty quickly it grew quiet. Quiet and quieter—We looked at each other and at our smiling kitchen crew and at that cake that was coming back to us uneatened! We tried—we really did. It was awful! Awful. We never figured out why—We just knew we could not eat that cake!

Somehow we managed to cover it up in the garbage can, the parts we had cut off. But the next day as we prepared to leave there sat that big monstrosity. Now we did not want to hurt the feelings of our kind friends who baked the thing. What could we do? We had to really think about it. The toilet was not the answer. The Welches had already found out the hard way that you can't put anything in the Mexican toilet—not even toilet paper! The sign that tells you that, means it! We didn't know any place that would have a public garbage can. No dog to offer it to. {NOTE from Dave: Not that we particularly wanted to kill a dog!!!} All we could come up with was to make a large chunks, wrap them in paper, put them in our pockets, bags and whatever we could find and ditch them at any place that worked. We rationed it out for however many days we had left. That cake got smaller each day. I can't remember how many of us participated. The men didn't help much. They didn't seem to care about anybody's “feelings”. And I can't remember the various places we ditched our “guilty” packages. {NOTE from Suz: Mom forgot the cake was covered with ants! Covered where it was kept in the house next door.} But we did it and felt fine as we cleaned the plate. Can't remember what that thing cost us, but I'm sure Jackie paid them well as they were still smiling, and we did know how to say “gracious”! (I wanted so badly to see that recipe!) {NOTE from Dave: I've seen that recipe on every bag of concrete mix that I ever bought!}

The town in Cozumel doesn't amount to much. The cruise ships dock across the street and the passengers just walk on over. Jewelry both cheap and expensive, and I didn't want either. Good smelling food, so we had lunch. A very interesting Catholic Church among the shops, open for visitors. So David and I visited, and had good thoughts about these poor people who have so little but they seem strong in their faith.

There were Nativity scenes everywhere. I've heard that the traditional Mexican Crèche has no baby in the cradle. The baby comes on Christmas Eve! It did seem to be true. The shops had all kinds and sizes—cheap and spendy. Since I was in the process of putting together a Crèche collection, I did my purchases there. The miniature golf course was the kids favorite. Very lush with tropical growth not seen any place else.

READER: I'm going to leave that 'river' again! Can't go on without including a little experience I had one evening, sitting home alone, watching TV. About 9:30 just days before Christmas, the front door bell rang! Nobody used the front door in my brick house so I knew it was a stranger. Didn't occur to me to NOT open that door! There in the dark stood a woman. She apologized for the time and introduced herself. She knew who I was and that my husband had died. She lived on down 79th somewhere and had a habit of walking at night. So I invited her in, served hot apple cider and cookies, etc. (Oh I had the goodies.) She explained that she always noticed me sitting there and wondered if I was OK, etc. She was pleasant company and we visited—about what I cannot recall. I wanted to talk about “Church”, the comfort my faith was to me, our activities, etc. I began looking around for something to begin with, but no, there was not one thing that I could focus on that said “I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! Not one! I saw Santa Clause everywhere! Where were my Scriptures? My Ensign was hiding in a stack of newspapers and nonsense. I had a tree decorated with all kinds of ornaments (???). I had reindeer, snowmen, candles, lights and every glitzy thing but didn't have a picture of our Savior, whose birth we were honoring. Not one! Where was my mind? Couldn't think of one thing to say of a spiritual nature. Too embarrassed to say it if I did! That is where my collection of Crèches began.

Back to Cozumel and our adventures there. Several years later my good friends Paul and Bev Roberts were traveling and spent one day in Cozumel. I alerted her to the wonderful Nativity sets to shop for...cute, inexpensive, cheap, etc. This was about 3 weeks before the 25th of December. Hmmmm! They found none at all. So much for their strong display of their faith.

“Feliz Navidad” (That is supposed to be “Merry Christmas” in Spanish—good luck.) I've spoken with a few grandchildren this week, and asked them what they remembered about Cozumel. They all mention the cake and the girls getting their hair braided! How could I forget those cute braided and beaded heads. They didn't comb (or shampoo) for days. Also a real highlight was the go-cart rides, but only because Kristin was there! How old? I should have asked her. She was not driving yet {NOTE from Dave: FORTUNATELY!!!}. Perhaps 15, but she was fearless, and threw the fear into the rest of the drivers, which was just our family. You can't imagine how much screaming and laughing! She could run down the straight away, but could not make a corner. Went off wildly into every brushy corner. She got plenty of advice from family and the Mexican attendants. So nice on the straights, please. Then pile up in the first corner she came to. They would all go running to 'save' her and drag the cart back and then she would repeat this little performance over and over again. I don't think the Mexicans were as amused as the Hansens were.

Our young people also loved the mini golf and horse rides. Kristin said the hard part of that (horse rides) was to hear her parents make the deal with men who spoke ONLY Spanish, and parents who speak non. It was so hard to leave that villa. They were 2 extraordinary homes, each had a grand pool and landscaping. They sat together right on the ocean beach. Two pools with a bridge that could be open.....or shut. The other side was vacant the week we were there.

We came separately and had to leave that way to catch our planes home. Dan had to stay one more night, as his plane left in the morning. Since he was having so much fun he couldn't get to bed and slept right through the 1st plane's departure time, and then the next. Actually he has never exactly come home since--Wandered all over South America. (Or was it Central America?) Finally found a girl he really liked and has been in Mexico ever since. Has four children and drives a big red 18 wheeler truck in the USA, and comes home to visit once in a (long) while when a 'load' brings him our way.

{NOTE from Dave: Gma pondered her story, and added the below info a few weeks later.}

I can't let go of Cozumel! Since I hurried through that first draft--(trying to get it done before David & Jackie headed for home), I've had time to reminisce! Also have talked to some of the family—who have given me more 'memories'. Anybody else out there who has anything to add, jump right in—send what you have to David—or Gma.

What did I know about Cozumel? Nothing! Well it was “Mexico” I learned--& the first conversation I remember was at Davidson's Restaurant. Jackie had invited me to have lunch with them, & talk about this proposed trip. I had recently been told of the shark danger in Mexican waters. Now both Ross & Judy were reading & spelling before they could walk--(maybe an exaggeration but not by much)--and also could swim like fish (no exaggeration). And I began to think about Mexican sharks.

Sometimes in an attempt at humor, I spell words out—So there it came, “I'm concerned about the S-H-A-R-K-S”. David & Jackie looked at me like I was pretty dumb—So I said, “I just didn't want to frighten the children.” Judy answered by saying, “I'm not afraid of sharks Gma—but if I see a green barracuda I'm out of there Gma & you're on your own!!

Snorkeling wasn't so great in Cozumel. We found just one beach—which you had to pay to use. Don't remember how long it took before someone came in with the news—There was indeed a “green” barracuda! Out of the water for all the Hansens—but watching the crowd we couldn't see anyone else worrying about it. So we had to see for ourselves.

Sure enough, that barracuda was in there but he must have been a pet. He stayed in one place and we didn't worry him at all.

I was never a strong swimmer and always aware of my precarious situation—the shore would get farther & farther away and then strong young arms would find my foot & soon I was back to shore. Kristin and/or Judy saved me over & over. And where was my son who should have been looking out for his mother? {NOTE from Dave: I don't know where Dean was....probably off 4 wheeling somewhere dangerous!}

Well where indeed—David had no intention of ever snorkeling. It was an ongoing argument. He never went to Hawaii & had no idea of the joy the rest of us shared in the search for the beautiful fish just under the surface of that warm-water ocean.

David's birthday was in April—good timing I thought with that trip ahead of us. I found a dive shop that carried fins that would fit his size 13 feet--costly--but I was happy at any price. Put on the pressure! Those danged fins took up half a suitcase but he did take them (or maybe Jackie did.)

We set up the time to go to Snorkel Beach. Seems to me it was $10 for each one to visit, so we planned only one. Unlike Hawaii where there are many snorkel beaches & all free. We suited up & took off & David did the same. What he saw & we didn't, was the underwater cameraman! We were not allowed to 'feed' the fish, but wouldn't you know the photographer could! We lost David right away. He simply went straight to the camera, jumped in & had a picture taken surrounded by plenty of cute little fishies—then jumped right out, paid for the picture & with 'proof' that he had actually snorkeled, got dressed & that was the end of that! No amount of scorn or argument could get him back into that water. And not a one of the rest of the gang had proof of any kind, showing the wonders we had seen or the fun we had! I could have rung his neck!

And fun it was. This past week I've had the opportunity to ask several family members what they remember about Cozumel. Without hesitation they said, “the cake!” That awful cake! (Actually two of them answered me that Dan would eat it—I thought it was Don.)

We would love to hear from you (family) out there---what did I leave out?

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