Day Four: Strange

Finished gallivanting about the ruins, we stopped for lunch in the small town of Coba before jumping on the highway for our two hour drive to Akumal. The restaurant itself was inconsequential. It had some common, expected name like "Restaurant at Coba." But to be honest, I don't remember those details. The images that stuck in my memory were the strangeness that accompanied our uncomfortable lunch.

To start, the young guy serving us was obviously infatuated with me to a degree that made all of us uncomfortable. Not to mention that He was a teen and I was 29. I could have been his mother if we really wanted to stretch it. He asked me if I knew the Maya language. I said no. He then started to speak to me and say things to us in Maya - laughing a sadistic, creepy, pleasurable laugh. We had no idea what he was saying, but we could all imagine. Eating my dry burrito and warm Sol beer, we all quickened our eating pace, with a knowing glance that screamed, "Let's get out of here as fast as possible."

As we were finishing our meal and waiting for the check, a little Maya girl walked up with long, thick black hair down to the middle of her butt. Yes, it was THE little Maya girl that I had been dreaming about. This didn't hit me until she turned around and her old face caught my shocked stair. Fear, bewilderment, and sweat took over my body.

As she approached, the little Maya girl and the teen boy serving us exchanged words in Maya without a trace of friendliness. She then approached our table with intent and purpose. Mind you, we were the only people eating there. Did I mention Coba is small and rather isolated to the tourist herds? The little Maya girl walked around our table once, looking at us each in the face. I assumed she was going to attempt to sell us something...a belt, purse, crocodile skin wallet, hammock. But she kept walking slowly, meaningfully, and all the while speaking Maya. Not to the teen boy, not to anyone else around. It was as if she chanted the words. After circling our table three times, the infatuated teen boy shot her a couple of words and she broke her circling and headed to the souvenir shop next door. Before walking in the door to the back of the store she slowly turned and shot me a deep, dark look. Then, she was gone.

Goodbye Coba!

To this day, I still don't understand what exactly happened at Coba. I know that I dreamed things before seeing them, I know that my sleeping life and awake life were filled with fear, exhaustion and mystery, and I know that to this day, I still find stray black hairs among my blond head.