Questions for Parents & Cenote San Isidor
Updated: Feb 13, 2022
Fellow moms, dads, parents with older children, how did you feel when your child left the nest? Were you excited? Anxious? Nervous? Happy? Sad? Did your heart ache? Did you cry? Were you relieved? Did you have that "finally I'm free" moment? Now, how do you feel when they visit, knowing they are right back out the door soon? Honestly, how do you feel? Have you ever dug deep about it? Has it come to realization that they do not live in your home? Do you worry that the world will consume them? So many questions.
Hi, I'm Frenchi and I have anxiety. My oldest child lives in the states and as you know, I'm fighting with my mind to convince myself that she's safe, happy and fed. I did, however, voice my concerns on her living arrangements that I'm not too pleased about, *sigh* but during this "panorama" and society as a whole, I can be open minded and understand her reasoning behind it. I raised her differently than I was, purposely. She's super intelligent, smart and kind. At such a young age she already has a career and is excelling rapidly. I'm proud, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want her here cuddled next to me.
She'll be visiting me in just a few weeks time and I'm elated. This time, she'll be staying longer than her usual three hour visits I'm blessed with. I'm kidding but I really do hate that schedule, she arrives late Friday and leaves early Sunday. I'm not trying to be too selfish, but it is in me. Last week when she visited we took a little trip. In keeping with routine, the weather feels amazing. I'm starting to get worried though, I know what it's capable of and I'm not ready for that type of violence. In the present time, it's windy and chilly, on the beach it's sunny and cold. I'm fine with both. I always pack accordingly to our needs anyway.
Back to our trip, everyone gave me a break on the car ride, sort of, the little one fussed about her elbow being itchy but big bro handled it for me. We drove about an hour to Homun, Yucatan, not far from Hameki, the campsite we visited in November. You can read about that experience here if you'd like. The local towns are small but from the looks of it, they have everything they need. The money is recycled within their community and daily activities seems to flow effortlessly. I'd love for my people to have their own towns. Do you understand what that type of community could do for the psyche of black folks. I can dream and be hopeful but it really breaks my heart, maybe this next generation would be more supportive of each other like the strong humans before us were.
Continuing, I was a little lost on finding the place but once I got there it mirrored a tiny paradise. From the drive up through a rough gravel road to the entrance of the facility, it opened up nicely. It looks as though it could be, using my non existent land survey certificate, maybe about 3-5 acres of land. That includes the cenote, swimming pools, lounge areas with tables, chairs and hammocks, glamping cabins, bathrooms, the reception area and parking. There were no families when we arrived and only two when we departed. It's a small footprint compared to larger cenotes but you get the same peaceful, spiritual feeling once you're connected. This place is a hidden gem, a tranquil wonderland, one place that I would travel to again in a moment's notice.
Once we entered and paid the fee, $120mx pesos/pp ($6usd), which included the park entrance, Cenote San Isidro and pools, we were able to absorb the beauty of someone's once vision turned reality. After several minutes of taking in the scenery we were fitted for our life vests, snapped a few cute selfies and made our way to the Cenote. But first, "Welcome", says the enemy, "nice of you to visit". "I hate you", I said in return. It's them again, time after time, they haunt me. Like, why me?? I don't even live my life violently anymore, I'm 40, I don't want the smoke.
Let me explain, I have these, aches, body aches, so, who's my enemy, it's just the stairs ya'll lol! Every damn time, huny these knees and steep cenote stairs are always at odd's. These weren't the worse but they were stoned stairs, bumps and all. I make it down, as slowly as I need to go and every single time I conquer that shit. That beautiful reward waiting at the bottom of the stairs will always be worth a little temporary joint pain.
I feel like I keep getting off track here, San Isidro Cenote, it's like every time I try to explain to you guys what a cenote is, what it looks like, what it feels like, I just don't have the words. There are no words. Sure, we know it's a natural underwater cave with crystal clear waters, some even have fish and they run miles and miles long, some right into each other, they can also be hundreds of feet deep, but I can only give you surface descriptions and that doesn't always begin to cut it. I wish I could ya'll, I would love for all of us to experience it. It's definitely something you need your own eyes for.
So once I'm done with the stair battle and playing catch up with my breathing, there it is, another one in the books. This one is really small in diameter and circumference, it's still about, oh goodness, I forgot to ask how deep it was, whatever it is I'm short in stature and lack basic swimming skills so if I can't touch the bottom, it will always be too deep for me. The top of the water resembled a mirror, you'd think the images you see are reflective from the top of the cave but they're not, it's the natural formed rocks at the bottom. The water is just that clear. I couldn't fathom what my eyes were showing me at first, it's a fairytale, a dream and a fantasy wrapped in spiritual comfort. As always, we nervously got into the water, it was chilly but not too cold, our bodies were able to adjust quickly. We hung out on the stairs and laughed at a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing. Just like on any Tuesday. Once our bodies were adjusted to the water temperature and our minds were settled that nothing was gonna fall on our heads, the kids decided to venture off into the middle of the cenote. I, of course, was the last one because the fear of something dragging and pulling me down crept up on me like old bad habits. I observed them, my children, as a proud parent would, I watched them enjoy the "simplicity" of life. Here we are in Mexico in a water filled cave, touching stalactites that I've only seen in an encyclopedia book. On the inside, joy overwhelmed me and looking at the pics from that day, it showed on the outside too. Who taught them how to be so brave? *Me* Now they're jumping off the ledge into the water. No Ma'm, No Sir, couldn't be me. But they were killing it huny! One by one, again and again. They were all having a good time. After almost two & a half days, it seemed like, they finally wanted out, it's a literal cave so as the day went by the water got colder. It was Avian's first cenote and it left her in awe. I'm so happy that she was able to experience such an incredible moment. She has her own life now but she's missing us, at least I hope, as we do her.
Now it's time to go UP the stairs, again, ya'll know what it is. Finally making it back up it was time to eat. My favorite time of the day. We ordered food at the reception area for about $10usd then walked around scoping the place out a bit. It was beautiful, it was a comfortable quiet. It offered three pools and when I think of something like this in the states I just remember lines and people. Long lines bring attitudes and people, well, people are people. I brought snacks from home just like on any other trip, we laid around in hammocks already reminiscing about what went down in the cave. I'm here, still tapping life back into my knees like I'm jump starting a car battery. Our meal has arrived, we're starving, not literally, but you understand that moment when you see your food coming to the table. That's me, all the feels. Excuse me while I go back and look at these food pics, omg, soooo good. Soooo good! We don't have good food in Merida, not at all. It's actually a waste of money, time and energy trying to find a good spot. We usually opt for Texas Roadhouse, a Houston favorite, it's safe. I've been from high end restaurants to mom & pop taco carts, it's not here. And just a little sneak peek on the next blog, ever since the Paint & Sip I've been cooking and selling plates. It's exciting. They can't get New Orleans cooking in Mexico and so far they all love it. *chest pound*
Going back to my original thought, I miss my daughter everyday that she's away, I dread the day she has to go back to the states. I dread that we get older and part ways. I dread my kids growing up, I dread the USA. Mexico is unlike the USA in so many areas, it's special, indescribable, and one things for certain, you've found that "something" you've been missing and searching for. I'm still excited that I moved away. I'm excited for my kids and their future. I'm excited to see who they'll become. I'm excited that I finally chose me.
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Until next time,
Frenchi A Blog