Cancun is a city associated with emerald green beaches, soft sand, and never-ending golden sunshine. The fame of this place has definitely scared backpackers like me a bit.
However, when I came here, things were different. It turns out that that magnificent “Las Vegas of Mexico” is only a little fraction of what Cancun truly is.
The city of Cancun revealed itself in two distinct parts: “downtown Cancun” and “hotel zone”. The hotel zone is a 3-kilometer-long narrow strip of land located at the very east of the city. Like its name, this place is packed with luxurious resorts, fancy restaurants, and entertaining venues. It is a world where dollars trumped pesos, English flowed as freely as the endless sunshine, and laughter echoed without ceasing.
Yet, the heart of Cancun lay in its downtown core. Here, the dominant population is the local Mayan community with their distinctive traits—stature, frames, and warm brown skin. No resorts, no English, no entertaining venues, only people minding their business. They pass through the streets, embodying a humble spirit that breathes life into the city.
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“Chi, hurry up!”
“Yes, I’m coming”
It was rush hour. The bus station was a chaotic sea of people so it took me a hard time to reach the bus. Sara and I squeezed into the ancient bus, which, because of the heat and humidity, smelled like a combination of human sweat, rusty metal, and outdated food.
Just an hour ago, we were having fun on the beach; the sun kissed our skin, the wind played with our hair, and the sand gently cuddled us in its great arms.
The bus was packed with people. There were office men and women whose T-shirts clinging to their skin from sweat, a couple holding hands as if fearful of losing each other in the crowd. There was a vendor who balanced loads of groceries in her arms but did not forget to secure her child behind her back. They all squeezed, hoping for a chance to go on the road.
At every station, faces come and go, each bearing their own story. I remember someone had compared the journey of life to a bus ride. Each person we have met in our lives is like a companion we sit next to on a bus. They may play some role in our lives. At one station, someone gets off, and hopefully another passenger gets on to join us in the journey
Some people stay with us for a much longer time, sharing numerous stations and creating lasting memories. But all of a sudden, they left us; their absence brought a hole in our hearts, and we found ourselves crying and suffering for many years.
There are times when we chose to leave at a station ahead of our companions, leaving them behind with great loss despite the quarrels and disagreements we had when we were together.
Very few people have someone accompanying them for their entire journey—our life’s bus ride.
“What station are we going to?” – I asked.
And Sara said it was the last station.
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The bus continues its long journey from the very East to the very West of Cancun. The sun’s rays stretched across the sky and casted a long shadow from the bus onto the asphalt road, slowly distancing us from the bustling city life we left behind. An old Spanish guitar serenades the evening, in which moment, a sense of melancholy stirs within my heart.
Every day, as the sun traces across the Cancun sky, a profound journey unfolds—stretching from the eastern horizon of the fancy Hotel Zone to the western reaches of humble downtown Cancun.
It was a magical, ritual-like moment. On this bus that traversed through the city, Mayan people gathered closely. Everyone, no matter the age and what they were doing, looked ahead as if they were all chasing the sun, chasing the golden rays of prosperity that had graced their land, chasing the glory that was once theirs. The sun of the Maya people, the sun has governed the Mayan profound knowledge for thousands of years, once again shines through its people.
Image source: the Internet
Gradually, the sun sets, slipping into another world. The sky transformed into a profound darkness that erased all traces of the day as if such radiance had never existed.
In the midst of adversity, the Mayans of Cancun continue to smile, live, and celebrate life like they have always been.
Finally, when it was our turn, Sara and I continued our journey.