Real connections between people in Cancún
I fell asleep on the bench of the Isla Mujeres ferry at 7pm and woke up at Puerto Juarez with the boat empty and the crew sweeping around me, gently, like I was part of the furniture. One of them said, take your time. I took ten more minutes, which felt like a full night. I would like to thank them and also apologise, in that order. I will bring a bag of chocolate on Saturday and I will stay awake.
I was haggling for a hammock at Mercado 28 when a stranger started haggling for the same hammock with the same vendor, in a language I did not know. For three minutes we bargained against each other, the vendor turning his head like a tennis fan. We ended up shaking hands and splitting the hammock. I get weekdays. The stranger gets weekends and the one hook. I have not seen the stranger since, but the hammock feels a little warm on Mondays.
You were dancing in a full chicken costume under the string lights at Parque de las Palapas, to a song that nobody could name, with a seriousness I found deeply moving. I was eating an elote and started to cry a little. When the song ended you bowed. A family clapped. I asked who the costume was for and you said, the chicken. I did not push it. I have been back every Sunday. The chicken has not returned. The elote is fine.
My gas ran out around noon on a Sunday in Supermanzana 22. I did not know who delivers it. The neighbour across the street saw me carrying the empty bottle and handed me his own full one, said, we will fix it later, and shook my hand. We swapped them back on Monday and we have been sitting on his step ever since. He says it was the best thing that ever happened to his Sundays. I have not told him it was the best thing that happened to mine.
I could not sleep at 5.15am, so I walked down to the water at Playa Delfines. A handful of other people were already there, all alone, all holding coffee, all facing the same direction. Nobody spoke for an hour. When the sun came up over the water we all looked at each other like people who had passed an exam together. Then everybody left, in different directions. I have been back every Thursday. There are always the same few. I am never sure which one I am.
I moved here recently and I have been buying fruit and vegetables at Mercado 23, because someone said it is where people actually shop. It is busy and I like it, but I never know if I am paying the normal price or the new face price. A supermarket would be simpler, or I could ask a neighbour to come along once. Do locals usually pay the first price at the market, or is it fine to ask for a better price?
I had the wrong amount in my pocket at the ferry window in Puerto Juarez one Saturday morning, and a line was building behind me. A man in a work shirt leaned over, put the missing coins on the counter, and walked straight to the boat without looking back. I have been trying to find a way to return it for months. Cancun is big. I stand on that dock at ten every Saturday with the exact amount in an envelope. The envelope says, you. I do not know his name.
On Saturday at Mercado 23 I asked the price of a papaya and the first answer was a tourist answer. The woman at the next stall leaned over, said the real number quietly, and winked. I paid it. She also told me which stall had the better limes. I now shop only on her side of the aisle and she waves when she sees me. Last week she gave me an extra lime. I think that is what neighbours are. I think that is also a papaya.
City bus on Avenida Tulum, afternoon. A woman with a beach bag asked the driver, "Does this bus go to the beach?" He said, "Everything goes to the beach if you wait long enough." She sat down. Nobody else reacted. Rain started ten minutes later and the windows fogged up. I stayed on past my stop, curious. Not a method I recommend, but the answer was fair.
You were standing under the string lights at Parque de las Palapas on Sunday night, holding an elote with so much mayonnaise that it was actually dripping onto your shoes. I said nothing. You looked down, looked at me, and we both started laughing. Then the band began and a family swallowed you up. I hope the shoes survived. I hope the elote was worth it. I counted three drips. I have been practising my own elote in the kitchen. It is not the same.
