Had you told me on New Year's 2002 that in 12 months I'd be in Merida, Mexico at a nightclub with a couple of old guys from Florida, a tourist from Mexico City, and a thirty-year-old businessman in the German wine industry... I just might have believed you. But probably not.

It was nice because it was completely off the backpacker circuit. The three other white faces I walked in with were the only ones there. It was strange, though, without Dick Clark or even a Mexico facsimile thereof. No countdown. No dropping ball. In fact, no big midnight moment at all. Somebody just noticed it was midnight and everybody got up and started hugging each other saying "feliz ano nuevo." One of those moments where you take a step back from reality and contemplate the string of events that brought you to that place at that time.

"Driven by every Baptist youth group in the South"
Having enjoyed the first five or more hours of the new year, I got up around noon. Max, the German wine-making guy, and I took a collectivo taxi (basically one of those big white vans driven by

My Accomodations in Merida

every Baptist youth group in the South) to Progreso. It's an industrial port town about a half hour from Merida. It's nothing spectacular, but there's a reasonably well-maintained beach. Around five the sun disappeared behind the clouds and it got a little chilly. We got back to Merida around six for my last night in the city.

I alluded to this earlier, but I'm noticing that this is feeling not like a single mammoth adventure... but a constant series of small, self-contanied experiences. Each has its own beginning, middle and end. You arrive in a new city disoriented, a little nervous. Then you find a place to stay, meet some new friends and start learning your way around. You see some sites, hang out with other travelers, have a few memorable experiences... then it's time to move on to a new city. Eventually I suppose I'll run into people I've met before... but so far it's like starting over with each new city I visit.

"Even though I'm totally introverted..."
I like that, though. I've always enjoyed starting over. In my career I've always been happiest when starting a new job in a new city... learning a new place and meeting new people. Even though I'm totally introverted and get a little uncomfortable in a room

On Merida's Square

of people I don't know, It's still exciting to meet a new group of people every few days. Most of the time they're nice and very interesting. Occasionally a few are clueless and obnoxious. This has only been the case in Cancun so far.

A note about the photos. My camera's turned out to be a fantastic way to easily upload photos. It shoots on little CD's that I can pop right into computers at internet cafes and upload. The only problem is every time I do that I have to burn several megabytes on the disk to make it readable in the computer. So I'm going to be uploading pix less often. There should still be about as many as I've been posting... just not appearing as often. This also means journal entries may not get their photos added for a few days. For example if you read this entry just after I post it, there won't be any photos... but wait till Sunday or so and there should be some pix in here.

Cyber Cafe in Campeche

"But then they come back with something I haven't rehearsed..."
Now back to our narrative...
I plan to go up to the ruins at Uxmal tomorrow and then on south to Palenque at midnight Monday morning. An Irish guy told me he'd been shut out of two buses today because they were sold out, so I went to the station this afternoon to buy mine in advance. This leads me to the observation that I need to learn to hear Spanish. I've gotten reasonably good at saying what I need to say... "a ticket to Palenque at 12:30 Monday morning, please." "Do you have a student discount?" That part's easy. But then they come back with something I haven't rehearsed and I'm clueless. Maybe I should just start off with English and never let them think I'm going to understand. Or maybe I need to hurry my ass up and get to a language school somewhere in Guatemala.

By the way... I've noticed that not even native speakers of the language can tell me the difference between "vamos" and "vaminos." If you know, please tell me.