Ahoy~Contrast

Although my chair seems to be swaying to and fro, I thought I would try a sea worthy entry while my latest adventure is still as fresh as just landed sea food.

You see, I did what is considered, by my standards, a  'commercial vacation' something I typically avoid.....at all costs. A cruise seemed the quintessential beacon of prepackaged hoopla, but a week ago I found myself walking across the plank of an all inclusive festivities driven Mexican Riviera Cruise. <gasp>

I could make excuses for my irrational choice in escape. For example, I was cold here in Idaho and down south held promise of warm air. Or, I couldn't find anything better to do. Then again, I could say, I was curious, the travel channel and all. Of course, there's the truth, which is I got talked into it by a gang of sea loving travelers. Either direction I lean towards, I sucked it up, tucked my passport in my pocket and headed into skeptical waters.

I think I'll spare everyone my opinions of the cruising life .I fear I could go on and on about my observations on El Shipper Skipper. Except this, if you like to eat, and I mean A LOT, book a cruise, you'll be rolling in food heaven.

What fascinated me the most on this excursion was the contrasts I discovered everywhere I turned. While at sea, I couldn't find anything better to do then simply watch people. While trapped in a space that 80% of that huge mass you see on the outside is actually staterooms the size of sardine cans, that leaves 20% of space for everyone to amass in. Observation heaven.

First and foremost. People are extraordinarily different in size, and general appearance. That may not seem such an original statement or observation, but when you are in a space that's holding 200 people sauntering around in a state of undress....bikini's, Speedos, barely there poolside attire, it really can evoke a sense of amazement.....the human body is incredibly unique even though we all sport the same basic form. Contrasts and uniqueness. Body buffet style.

By the time we hit land and I could abandon ship I was extremely ready for a change of scenery. We personally choose to stay off the beaten path. No shopping needed, my gang wanted to see people, places and things. 

Being in Mexico really opened my eyes to how monochromatic we live in America. We, at least the places and people I know, are a banal bunch. With our beige walls and earth tone houses. It occurred to me that unlike Americans who want to fade into the landscape and not be outright noticed in our neighborhood, the Mexican culture celebrates bold, bright and colorful. The colors of their homes contrast the landscape. Their personal adornments send signals out to notice them. A church I visited was laden, to a point that would certainly be considered tacky in America, with statues and alters.

But contrast goes both ways. While I could admire the beauty of their homes, their paintings and adornments, I couldn't ignore the bars on every single door and window. In all three ports we visited, I couldn't ignore the trash, that was practically everywhere. It was a conflict of observation. To see beauty, everywhere, pillared by immense piles of trash. Sad.

One of my greatest moments was seeing a cemetery in Mexico. Holy High Honor. That culture doesn't just bury their dead, they shroud them in alters, shiny things, flowers, tombs, kites, houses, and statues. The cemetery I saw was an entire Mecca. The bigger, the brighter, the better. A visually distracting and enchanting world I have never seen nor realized existed before. I have officially requested the most gaudy and visually delightful cemetery space for myself when I pass on. I no longer want a monotone tombstone. Hell no, I want to be the purple house on the lot, I want a shrine that says, "Here lies Rebecca, Make she sparkle in peace" ........

And Contrast of wealth. By sea at night, I was eating a 5 course dinner that I would often push to the sides of the plate because I couldn't finish it all.....and by day on Mexican soil, I would witness people sifting my discarded food out of the trash can. It was a very hard reality to absorb.

In Mazatlan we used a tour guide who spoke broken, barely understandable English. His name was Cesar, and although his English was questionable, he finished every -single -solitary -sentence with, "Okie Dokie" ..(it's funny, ha ha, for about 30 minutes, but trust me, after 2 hours, okie dokie gets a bit old) ...he explained that despite our heartstrings, we were never to give the tiny children of Mexico money. He explained to me, who already had her purse basically open to anyone who asked, that if I gave them anything, it's one more day their parents will keep them out of school. Ouch. Seeing poverty at such a high dosage, at every corner, and feeling helpless to well, help, was something I doubt anyone with an ounce of compassion could feel immune. Contrast, in it's ugly form. It hurt my heart.

I suppose I could write for another hour (or two or three) about my experience, but I'll spare anyone who's made it this far. Since my mind still thinks it's on a ship and I've been swaying around the house all day, it's probably time to get some sleep. I'm sure tomorrow I'll start catching up on the 330 email alerts I have in my box (you guys can certainly write, A LOT in a week!) tomorrow, or the next...........Okie Dokie?