Mexico: Calakmul Biosphere Reserve

Cabana
Originally uploaded by Elizalou.

We arrived at Rio Bec Dreams in the Calakmul Biosphere Reserve after a four-hour drive. Our stay began with a jolt when B. realized that he forgot his passport at the hotel in Campeche. Oops. We went to the bar to talk to Diane, who advised that an effort to have it mailed would be futile and concocted a scheme wherein Roberto the Campechano accountant would fetch it and bring it with him tomorrow when he comes here on business. Crisis averted! Big phew.

We drove to Chicanna this afternoon because Diane told us the gods would speak to us there. The gods did not speak to us, but the mosquitoes sure did. Thank you, Off Wipes. We returned to our cabana and took a brief siesta. I love our cabana! The sheets and towels are super nice and soft, and the decor is lovely and relaxing, and the bed is sort of a magical tropical princess sort of bed. There are many small bug carcasses atop the canopy that look startlingly prominent when facing heavenward so I'm just avoiding that view whenever possible.

Which leads me to the topic of bugs. Sweet merciful and holy Jesus. We sat down to wait for dinner, along with a Chalmatian and a trio of Utah Mormons. And Tally the most awesome Jack Russell. And I noted that there were lots of little bugs crawling on the (beautiful, elegantly set) table and in the water glasses and such, but I resolved myself to their presence as we are in fact in the jungle. It was with a mounting horror, though, that I realized that buzzing about the overhead lights in that agonizingly loud, slamming way was an unspeakably enormous flying cockroach. I knew because I just instinctually know these things. It's like radar. I've honed it since childhood. I didn't even have to see it -- I knew. I asked B. if that sound I was hearing was a giant flying cockroach and he assured me that it was just a big bug. But I knew. I knew. I could hear it careening overhead, and I knew that something very bad was about to happen.

And then out of the corner of my eye, I saw it coming in for the dive-bomb. I knew it had made some sort of contact. I leapt out of my seat instantly and practically flew to the opposite corner of the dining area. I think I made my way back to our table after apologizing to the Utah family, foolishly assuming that the offender had since hurled itself away from our area. But I saw it. And I asked with my back turned, "Did it land on our table?" "No, it did not land on our table," B. lied. But I saw it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE ON OUR TABLE. I again sprinted to the Mormon corner while he heroically trapped it under his glass and somehow killed it with a magazine about Mayan ruins.

I begged some more pardon from the other diners and somehow managed to choke back the vomit and continue to sit there. Then as Rick was at our table talking to us, another one flew down and landed on his shoulder in a shudderingly awful-sounding vibrating descent. I huddled over into B.'s lap in terror lest it fall on me. Then a praying mantis somehow ended up crawling inside B.'s shirt. I don't even know. He was handling all of this with great calm. Then our food finally came ... pork chops yucatecan for him with rice and corn and guacamole and spaghetti for me with tomatoes, onions, and peppers. All yummy.

Then I'm not sure what happened. I was so shaken by the giant cucarachas that a small bug hit me in the face mid-bite and I jumped so violently that I ended up slinging half my enormous plate of pasta in red sauce off of the plate and onto the white tablecloth. Then I started crying. I scooped up as much of the pasta back onto the plate as I could, desecrating two pretty yellow cloth napkins in the process, and started shoveling it into my mouth in misery and mortification. The white tablecloth looked like something had been slaughtered on it. I was still sniffling and recovering from all of this indignity when something loud buzzed in my ear and I knocked over my water. Which was just as well as there were bugs floating in it anyway. Then dinner was decreed officially over.

B. exhibited the patience of a saint, the other guests and Rick and Diane were utterly gracious about my total spazosity, and it's really quite beautiful here despite the bug mayhem. The bed is unbelievably comfy, and there are stars by the zillions.