Stop the Presses: Development makes simple life harder to find

Recent adventures in the Yucatan offer a prime example. I wanted to escape telephones, TVs, computers and conditioned air. This is getting harder and harder to do.

Twenty years ago, I vacationed along Mexico’s Caribbean coast. Cozumel was still a fishing village, and Playa Del Carmen still had dirt streets. There were miles and miles of gorgeous white-sand beaches – and not a hotel in sight.

Since then, people from all over the world have come to love Costa Maya. I wanted to see this coast one more time, before every inch was paved over or seeded for golf courses.

Expansion of Mexico’s tourism industry has brought huge resort projects that line up end-to-end like dominos for almost 500 miles, stretching from north of Cancun to well south of Tulum, where only a few years ago, the road ended abruptly. Mexicans from throughout the nation have flocked to this once sparsely inhabited area, some to construct gigantic hotel and condominium projects and many more to pamper sun-seeking tourists. Gargantuan cruise ships line the piers along the coast, and hundreds of businesses have sprung up to serve the people streaming across the gangplanks.

Where once there were rustic cabana-style accommodations, now there are sleek and pricey golf resorts with guarded and gated entrances. We passed big-box stores Office Depot, Wal-Mart and Sam’s Club. We traveled along a four-lane divided highway until it narrowed to two lanes with jungle pressing in on both sides. All along, we saw new roads under construction. More hotel projects are not far behind.

Finally, close to Mexico’s border with Belize, the pavement stopped. The road was covered in gravel, and as we drew closer to our destination, our path became dusty and deeply rutted. The road was little more than a cart track. The potholes were big enough to drown in. We would have been able to navigate much faster on foot, or by scooter or bicycle.

Away from it all

The long trip was worth it. I found what I had been looking for. No telephone, no cell-phone service, no air conditioning.

A wind-powered generator provided light for reading at night. The wind was strong and steady enough to provide all of the electricity needed for the little fishing and diving resort where we stayed. Alas, I soon learned that wireless Internet service was available. I was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

It took almost a week before I could settle down and stop dreaming up new things to worry about. We fell into a rhythm of going to bed when it got dark and getting up when it got light. I liked seeing the light coming through a little gap in the palm-thatched roof over my head. I was in awe of the bright stars at night. The sky was filled with pinpoints of lights from millions of stars. I imagined that I saw them as the ancient Maya had seen them. No wonder they lived – and died – by the movement of the stars in the velvet heavens above them.

During the second week, the sore shoulder that had been bothering me for years stopped aching. I stopped thinking about what we would do to entertain ourselves. I did not go shopping. Outside of a couple of convenience stores, there wasn’t anything to buy. We came home with hundreds of pesos!

The uncomplicated life

We ended up doing practically nothing. My husband read seven books. I only read four. Sometime in that second week, I dreamed of starting a plastics recycling program for the little town nearby. I had the steps toward that goal all planned out in my mind, and then it was time to pack up and go home.

I enjoyed being in what was, for me, an uncomplicated place. I did talk to a couple locals, who politely told me, “Oh yes, I’ve been in the United States, but I decided to come back here.” One man, a restaurant owner in a nearby town, said he no longer owned an alarm clock. A rooster’s crow woke him each morning. He was happy to be home, and he was able to open his restaurant after saving money from 30 years of working in California.

We’re planning to go to another sunny and uncomplicated place next year. I realize that “uncomplicated” is a relative statement. It’s certainly possible to be stressed-out anywhere on the planet.

I’ve learned that I carry my complications with me, but now I’m better at letting them rest for awhile. They’ll be there for me when I return. I also realize that we’ll have to travel even further to enjoy the simple life. Next year, the road, rutted from last fall’s crop of hurricanes, will be repaired, the pier expanded to accommodate cruise ships.

Time marches on, and I will, too. There is another road that goes farther south, and I want to see where it goes.

Dianne Elizabeth Osis is publisher and president of Springfield Business Journal Inc. She can be reached at delizabeth@sbj.net.