My Mexican Vacation

It’s the end of day two in Mexico. So far I’ve found it pretty easy to get around as a hard-of-hearing/deaf vegetarian. I had forgotten how they accost you the second you get off the plane-- official looking people grabbing at you, hoping to sell you a condo and package deals to the luxury vacation of your dreams. We came here to relax.

Night people by nature, we elected not to sleep before leaving home at 2:30am Tues. morning. By 12:15 pm when our plane landed in Puerto Vallarta, we had been awake over 24 hours, and the last meal we had eaten was six pm--eighteen hours before. We were tired, hungry, bedraggled looking and had the words “American sucker” written all over us when we stumbled away from Customs.

I stood patiently listening to the human babble around me. Could have been English or Spanish. Didn‘t make any difference. All I heard was hundreds of people chattering as I watched my husband slowly get sucked into some deal. Nudging him in the leg, I quietly signed the word “no.” We were both tired and vulnerable. I didn’t care about the condos, massages, fancy restaurants or boat cruises displayed before him. We left the airport -- with the taxi driver from hell.

Too tired to think about all the painful ways a person could die in a Mexican taxicab, I was aware he was driving recklessly, but only wanted a bed. Though it did occur to me death was a type of rest. Driving through town, different Spanish words started coming back.

It has been awhile since I’ve been to Mexico. I’ve never had a large Spanish vocabulary, but I know a how to ask for directions to a bathroom and what words mean “meat” on a menu. We arrived at our hotel early. Check-in wasn’t until 4:00 and we still had our Seattle clothing on. Here, it’s a humid 90 degrees.

“Caliente” (hot), I said to the guy managing our suitcases. He had them tagged in a grouping while we waited for our room. Then I picked up my top in the ASL sign for shirt and asked, “change?” while automatically signing “change.” If there has ever been an award given for number of languages used in one sentence, I think that could be it.

“Si” he said, nodding and moving his finger in an around gesture indicating around the corner. Then, he bid another guy to load up our suitcases in Spanish. They started walking, beckoning us to follow. We were escorted to a spacious, air-conditioned suite to change our clothes and rest while waiting for our own room.

AHH! It pays to know a few signs. I use them often with library patrons at work who don’t speak English well. Between the little Spanish I know, the little English they know, and a few signs that seem to be universally understood, I’m generally able to communicate with them pretty well.

After we finally got settled into our room, we went down to the beach, ate, then came back and slept, then went out and ate some more, then came back and slept until noon today. There’s not much else to tell. We were tired and hungry. The beach is beautiful during the day and at night. The food is fantastic, once they get over my shocking request of “no meat.”

“No meat?! No feesh?! No pollo?! Cheecken?! Shreemp?!”

Today I practiced the Spanish words, “Sorry, deaf.” (excusa, sordo) on all the Mexicans selling stuff on the beach. I have no idea if these are the correct words or if I'm pronouncing them right or saying them in perfect order. Maybe I'm supposed to say, "sordo, excusa?" -- I don't know. I looked them up in a dictionary. They will have to do. Some of them nodded when I said sordo and pointed to my ear, so I think maybe they got the idea. I wasn’t lying about this either. I had to take my aids off because of the humidity. I am almost deaf with my aids. Without, I am quite deaf. If any of you know Spanish, I wouldn‘t mind learning a few more words. Thanks.