More stealing: My trip to Cancun

I still can't think of anything original and wonderful to write about so today I'm going to steal from yet another blogger.  Today I'm stealing from Jane from Jane's Junk and Treasures because she just got back from a vacation to Cancun, Mexico and she can't stop bragging about it wrote a lovely post about her adventures!  Which reminded me of the time I went to Cancun.  It was the summer after I graduated from high school and I went on a school trip with about 20 kids and our Señora.   It sounded like it would be such a fun trip, and it was, but we weren't travelers.  We didn't know how to handle the inconveniences of international travel back then, we were still in high school mode, and it was the eighties so our biggest concern was how to keep our bangs tall in the oppressive jungle humidity, and how to take advantage of the no-drinking-age in Mexico without Señora getting wind of it because she said she would send us home if we broke her leyes (rules).  We were there to absorb the culture and history, and practice our Spanish language skills; not to get drunk and sold into white slavery, apparently.

High humidity, tall bangs.  Harder to accomplish than you would think.

The day we landed we went right from the plane to a bus.  A hotter than ass bus where we spent most of the next several days.  One day we toured the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza.  To merely say it was hot would be ridiculous.  It was probably 175 degrees with 110% humidity so we weren't appreciating the historical significance of where we were, we just wanted to get the hell out of there and get somewhere air conditioned.

Here is a picture of my friends Jill and Drew looking at stuff in the Great Ball Court where the Mayans would play their crazy ball games that ended in death.  I think the Mayans would have scoffed at our collective wieniness had we somehow been able to travel back in time and meet them.  They'd say, "Hey, you want to run around this enormous ball court in the oppressive heat until one of us dies?"  and we'd say, "No thank you!  It's too hot and Señora said to move slowly and stay hydrated."  

This picture cracks me up.  It's me (on the steps on the right), my friend Jen, and my friend Jonelle.  I think Señora told the two girls standing above us to watch us because they were constantly watching us and told on us when we ordered drinks the night we went to the discoteca.  In retrospect, we probably shouldn't have ordered drinks that were on fire.  That wasn't very low profile.  But we got out of trouble by telling Señora that we ordered in Spanish, you know, for practice, and we must not have said it right.  Like tres llamas azules Jesus, por favor (three Flaming Blue Jesus shots, please) could be confused with tres Coca Colas, por favor.  Oh well, she bought it.  I'm guessing she didn't really buy it but she let it go because she didn't want the hassle of sending us home.  

This is toward the end of the day at Chichen Itza.  The boys slowly got more and more naked.  The guy on the right was my high school boyfriend who I broke up with right before prom.  You know I have a thing for Tom Selleck and he was as close as a girl could get in high school.  What's that?  No, I said it right, I broke up with HIM.  No, YOU shut up!  We still went to prom together.  It was awkward.  

Awkward

Toward the end of the Chichen Itza tour we saw this:

It's the sacred cenote where they would sacrifice virgins. I believe at the time I was thinking, "God, it's hot, I wish I was a virgin."  Just kidding, Mom and Dad!  I was a virgin!  I could have been sacrificed!  omg, yeah right!  Did you see my boyfriend?  Like I wasn't hitting that.*  (They can't see this because of the small print.)   

Señora told us to pack lots of snack food because we wouldn't like the food.  She'd been doing this trip for years and years and knew what she was talking about, but we were teenage girls, we didn't want to seem like pigs so we all packed a candy bar or two and someone had the forethought to pack squeeze cheese and a sleeve of crackers.  We ate all that stuff the first night.  For the rest of the trip we were starving.  We were in the rural Yucatan and there was no McDonalds or anything even close, which, as an adult I think is wonderful and I'd love to go back and try out all the stuff I turned my snotty teenage nose up at.  We ordered tacos at a street stand, expecting something like Taco Johns, but they weren't like Taco Johns.  They were made with goat meat instead of overly processed commercial "beef" of questionable origin, and had no orange cheese, no sour cream, no salsa or anything.  Just goat meat on a tortilla.  I think that was on about day four and Jonelle cried when she saw it.  

One day we were approached by a dapper-looking man on the beach in Cancun who told us for a tidy sum we could be treated to a wonderful day trip on a yacht, where they would take us to a nearby reef to snorkle and see beautiful tropical fish; a delicious lunch included.  How could we pass that up? We got the okay from Señora, and off we went.  The "yacht" was a 15 foot dingy.  The "nearby" reef was about a two hour boat ride out into the open ocean.  The "tropical fish" was a bunch of baracuda ripping the shit out of any cute little Nemo-like fish they could see (traumatic), and the "lunch" was crackers with salsa and one Corona a piece. We were suckers.  

So there, Jane.  You're not the only one who can blog about their trip to Cancun!  So what if mine was 22 years ago!

*That wasn't very nice.  Sorry, old boyfriend.  I didn't mean to sully your teenage reputation.*

*bow chica wow wow!*

*again, I'm so sorry.