Akumal

Akumal, my beloved little southern city. I loved the countryside and the relaxed ways of the people. Sea turtles climbed ashore in the hazy night lights while hermit crabs slowly crawled from their hiding spots to explore the spoils of Americans who invaded their territory in the warm summer months. The contrast between my secure ocean facing condo and the dirty little shacks one street over haunted me. I felt guilty laying on my crisp white sheets after a day playing in the salt encrusted sea.

The gaunt eyes, thin bodies, and rolling voices of the residents floated through my dreams, haunting me throughout the night and then with their actual presence during the day. Their swaying little shacks stood in deep contrast to the lush green and blue scenery. Bright blankets hung from the doorways as a celebration of their tradition and a mark of their worsening poverty. Still, I could not pull myself away from a quiet desire to be one of them.