A Walk Home

When I moved back to West Virginia after living in New York City for several years, I felt like I lost part of myself. I entered a season of wandering and reaching for things that weren’t really there. I began to miss myself. I missed the danger that was me, the adventure, the spontaneity, the rebel, the philosopher, the artist, the poet and the lover. He was still exploring the streets of Brooklyn while I was trying to hold it together and get a kid through high school back in West Virginia.

I found him tonight. It turns out that he has been waiting for me here in the Yucatan.

My time so far here in Merida, Mexico has been spent either resting or out exploring the colonial neighborhoods and the hustle and bustle of the Centro (the historical center of the city). But today I had a very different experience.

I decided to walk from the neighborhood where I am staying now to the house that I have rented for the month of January. I snapped some photos on the way and then proceeded into the chaos and labyrinth of the Mercado. I hopped a local, city bus just to see where it would take me and then after some dinner, I took another local bus to the Plaza Sendero. The Plaza Sendero is a very nice and very gringo-friendly shopping mall. I picked up a few things and went to the cinema. When the film ended I joined the masses and headed for the banos! The bathroom was so crowded that I had to wait in line to wash my hands. While I was standing behind a massive crowd of young Mayan men, I saw my reflection in the mirror. The first thing that I noticed was how much I towered over everyone in there. I felt like laughing because I was around two feet taller than anyone else crowding around the sinks. But then I felt something else. I was overcome with humility and humbled to be here. There is something very special here and it’s not just the charm of the colonial buildings or how lovely and delightful the people are. It’s the vibrations of an ancient culture that still lives on through the Mayan people today. Merida is one of the longest inhabited cities on Earth with a continual existence of over 5,000 years from back when it was the Mayan city of T’ho.

I gathered my checked bags from the ticket counter and left Plaza Sendero to begin the trek home. There was a homeless man asleep on a wall under a street light. The first time that I walked to Plaza Sendero, my friend and I crossed the street because he was passed out on the sidewalk in front of us. On my second journey to Sendero he was eating an orange that had presumably fallen off one of the many, local orange trees. The orange was half peeled and he was eating it like an apple with juice dripping off of his face. He reminded me of an animal. When he came in to view tonight under the glow of the street light, he looked very familiar. He was asleep on his side with his arms crossed and his hands curled up to his chest. Of course I don’t know his name but I knew exactly who he was. I stopped at his wall and took out a $10 coin. I stood there and contemplated whether I should call out to him and see if he wakes up or not. But then, without thinking about it, I approached him and tucked the coin inside one of his hands. His hand was dry and rough and dirty. That’s when I realized who he was. That is when I found the David that I had been missing all those years. I crossed the street and fought back tears as it became clear that it is only by some cosmic and God given grace that I don’t have to sleep on the street tonight.

Over the past few years I have tried to recover what it was that I had lost. I tried to do it through art and through philosophy but still felt that there was something missing. I tried to be adventurous and spontaneous again but that David that I was longing for still couldn’t be found. I found him tonight in the realization that we are all connected, every one of us on this planet. Our social structures have divided us by class and distinction but there really is no separation. This is what the great minds in history have tried to convey to us. This is what will keep us from destructive conquests in war and in our most intimate relationships. This idea that the one sitting beside me or the one that is jumping in front of me in line or the taxi driver or the check-out girl or the one who sleeps on the sidewalk is equal in spirit to myself.

Jach Dyos b'o'otik Maya

Jach Dyos b'o'otik means “Thank you/God bless you very much.” (Literally "very much God pays (it)") in the Maya language which is widely spoken here in the Yucatan.