The Honeymoon Report

A big welcome back to IP and me! Although I have to say that we would rather have stayed on sunny beaches, toured ruins, and maintained year-round tans if we had been given a choice of vacation spot vs. D.C.

Damn you, D.C., for making me come back. One day we will leave and stay at our destination. When we visit, we will be tourists, but we’ll be knowledgeable tourists, who know not to drag whiny six-year-olds on Smithsonian tours and know how to stand to the right. You’ll appreciate us then, D.C., because we’ll blend in so perfectly you won’t even know we’re visitors. The only clue we’re not D.C.ers anymore will be our lack of government agency IDs.

However, D.C. bitterness aside, the honeymoon was fantastic. Not only did we do our tours, frolic in the sun, eat delicious food, and lazed about like there was no tomorrow, we also delighted in each others’ company and had a great time just being together. Our first full day there, IP and I ended up in our hotel room, chatting away as we drank rum and Cokes (Coke made with real sugar! Yay!) from our mini-bar, making each other laugh and having a touching, honest conversation that left me in tears (good, I swear!) and let me know that I am with someone unique and amazing. I got the feeling, during that conversation, that he feels the same about me, so that geeks me out quite a bit, I must say. I won’t discuss the details of the conversation (as always, that remains between us), but the thing I love about being with IP is that I’m constantly discovering new depths to his awesomeness.

And how much fun is beachcombing with IP? Even if we end up with sunburned heads and sensitive scalps, there’s nothing like finding a pretty shell, cool conch, or pieces of sand dollars with my guy. Our new collection is colorful and only needs a few mason jars to be displayed.

Visiting Mexico for our honeymoon was fantastic. Not only did I get to relax with my wonderful husband, but it was so nice to be back home, in a sense. Sure, I’d never been to Cancun before, and my state is actually way to the north and west, but just touching down in Mexico sent a thrill through me. I don’t think I realized how much I missed it until I returned.

I loved speaking Spanish for a week. I loved interacting with people, their delight that I could speak Spanish written across their faces, welcoming me to Quintana Roo or Yucatan as a fellow countrywoman from Zacatecas. I loved going to the ruins of Chichen Itza and Tulum, admiring the intelligence, discoveries, and architecture of the Mayans; I also mourned their loss, wondering what else was destroyed when Catholicism and Europeans invaded. I was once in a class where a white woman chided the TA and me for pondering what could have been in terms of scientific and humanist discoveries from the Mayans, telling me she wouldn’t mourn it had it happened to her culture—just the luck of the draw hers came out on top. The TA and I exchanged glances, then side-eyed the woman in tandem. Ah, privilege. So blind, so arrogant, so entitled.

While I loved going on the tours and falling into historical reveries, I have to say: I can’t stand big groups of strangers for long. We only did two tours, and by mid-morning on the day of the second tour I was ornery and annoyed, side-eyeing people making fun of Mayan art and rolling my eyes at the people who acted like they were the only ones on the tour. The best moments were when IP and I were able to get away from the group. It was great to be able to leave the driving to someone else, but tour groups are annoying. When we landed in D.C. and were greeted by a school group waiting to board a plane home, IP snickered and said to me, “Aren’t you glad we missed that?” In a sense, we did. In another sense, we didn’t.

At least people were more reserved at the actual resort we chose. People were polite, in good spirits, and not trying to impress either a tour guide or an entire group of people with their wit, (lack of) knowledge of history, or childish humor. We had had one more tour on the books, but canceled because 1) we wanted more time in the sun and surf and b) I told IP I’d had enough of tour groups.

I’m not much of a joiner, am I?

However, I’d go back to Cancun in a heartbeat. I would take only one tour, I think, to keep my eyerolls to a minimum. I would also be sure to make sure to keep tabs of my sunscreen application on the last day, since apparently IP and I were so busy soaking up the sun to the fullest that we ended up with burns on our last day. Oops!

Another thing: if you usually Metro home from the airport and have the means to take a taxi home instead, do so. I’ve found in the past that the trip on Metro often snaps me back into reality much too quickly, but taking the taxi home really preserved the sense of tranquility and ease that Cancun imparted on us.

And now, we’re back home, where tonight we’ll be having dinner with IP’s visiting brother and I am working on a new short story that came to me in a flash yesterday afternoon. It’s not beach and sun, but at least I can use my iPhone without being charged up the wazoo for data usage.

Wait, given how much I liked being disconnected, is that even a plus?