Why I Don’t Like Resorts …

This may seem strange, but I don’t like resorts.  I recognize why so many people love them, and I have enjoyed both times I stayed at a resort … for the first day.  You can stay in a beautiful room, every need you may have is catered to, you have a large, luxurious pool at your doorstep, a slow relaxing walk to the beach (which you never take because a golf cart takes you,) there are excellent restaurants, and the list just goes on.

 

In short, you’re living like a king – with one major difference; YOU HAVE NOTHING TO DO.

 

The planned events in places like these never appealed to me; yet, having the all-inclusive luxury at your disposal, you feel obligated to stay on the resort to take advantage of it; it makes no sense to go pay for food, drinks or entertainment somewhere else when you already have the luxury level of all of these in your plan.

 

Part of the total concept of the places, wireless internet is available.  While I’ve never been one to watch any T.V. or use any internet while travelling on vacation; both times, however, that I’ve been in a resort setting, by the end of day 1, I’ve been digging out the laptop I never thought I’d be using on vacation and tracking down the password for using the internet.  I simply felt bored and in need of something semi-productive to do.

 

I suppose part of the lure of resorts is that you can do just that; live in luxury, relax, and do nothing – unwind from all the stress of life.

 

Both resorts I’ve been in have been in Mexico.  Yet, I’ve had several other vacation/multi-day-travel experiences in Mexico that have been far less luxurious, but, for me far more enjoyable.  (These include my trip to Veracruz and to Progreso.)  In places like this there are certainly lots of tourists, but you see them blending in with real life.  In Veracruz my wife and I stayed in a cheap hotel where they gave us half price ($10) because the room had no TV.  Although the hotel had everything I expected from it (comfortable bed, warm shower and cleanliness) I felt no regret abandoning the hotel to go out and see the city – see the people, the parks, the children playing in the streets, the colonial city square full of splendid lights, the market food, street musicians and the baker who went well out of his way to show the warmest welcome possible to an old friend (my wife) … to me this was 1000 times more of meaningful and enjoyable. In Progreso I visited the old expat bar, where retired Americans and Canadians that had been there for several decades complained of the (very unwanted) influx of tourists that the new highway would bring.  Although some of them glared at me suspiciously as one of the unwanted outsiders, I found it easier to connect with more of these people than most of the people in the resort.

 

At the resort, I think the only person I connected to somewhat was the worker taking care of the kids who used to be a student at the English school where I worked.

 

I don’t oppose resorts in principle – there are some that have made real efforts to show environmental and social responsibility, although by no means all, just like any other business – but I still have to say honestly, I can understand the point on a logical level (i.e. why they should be enjoyable) but by my experience, I simply do not find them enjoyable.

Are You English, German or Spanish?

While I would describe my ethnic background in the fairly universally understood terms of “Canadian of Mennonite background,” the people still belonging more fully to this group have other terms by which they describe ethnicities.

 

For example, they might describe my immediate family thus:

 

“His parents are German, and he grew up German.  But now he and his sons are English and his wife is Spanish.”

 

Anyone who knows my wife, my kids and me knows that there’s nothing English, Spanish or German about us – least of all in terms of ethnicity or culture.  Of course, what these people are doing is referring to ethnicity/culture by the language spoken.  I’m English because that’s my primary language; my parents are “German” because they still speak the Mennonite dialect of the language between themselves; likewise my wife is “Spanish” because of her mother tongue.

 

I don’t know the exact reasons for this choice of terminology, but I can guess as to some of the underlying ideas:

 

• An idea seems to have come about that there’s something inappropriate, embarrassing or sometimes even insulting to refer to people by their true ethnicity; while in the parts of Mexico where I lived, most Mexicans are proud to be called “Mexican”, a number of Mennonites who have lived in Mexico seem to feel that the people consider it insulting.  I don’t know if this is true or if it’s just their impression.

 

• On a similar note, numerous Mennonites whom I’ve talked to  “correct” me discretely, yet pointedly, when I refer to them as “Mennonites.”  For example, if I ask them if there were many Mennonites at the community picnic, they will answer that there were a lot of “German” families, slightly emphasizing the word “German.”

 

• This leads to another point; while Mexican is clearly a national ethnicity, Mennonite is officially a church denomination; strictly speaking it refers to someone’s faith and religious views.  A very strong case could be made that the nature of the denomination (which sometimes, but definitely not always, dictates laws about clothing, transportation, entertainment and even language of its adherents) has in many cases created a corresponding ethnic culture; a similar case could be made about certain Jewish groups.  For this reason, it’s common to refer to anyone belonging to that ethnicity as “Mennonite” even if they have never joined that church, don’t adhere to its beliefs or have been excommunicated.  On the other hand, there’s justifiable hesitation in calling someone Mennonite after they’ve joined a new church, even if they retain the cultural practices.

 

• Finally, there’s a problem with calling the Anglophone population of southern Ontario “Canadians;” the problem is that it implies that the German-speaking Mennonites are not Canadians, when in fact many of them are.  They are NOT immigrants – at least not most of them.  They have been Canadian citizens for a longer time and for more generations than most Anglophone Canadians, having arrived to the Prairie Provinces during the mid- to late-1800s.

 

• A similar problem arises with the term “Mexican;” a growing number of Mennonites are now Mexican citizens, since that’s where they and their parents were born.  So, calling the Hispanic Mexicans only “Mexican” incorrectly implies that these Mennonites are not Mexican, when they are by all legal rights.

 

The biggest problem is that while ethnicity is clear, there is no clear rule for determining religion or citizenship of ethnically “Mennonite” people.  So, in light of all of this, I could  re-word the description of my family given above as follows;

 

“His parents are ethnically low-German speaking Mennonites of Canadian citizenship, and he was raised in this same culture; he and his children are now ethnically Anglophone Canadian but his wife is Hispanic Mexican.”

 

I'm not sure if this would go over so well with most people, though.

Our Daily Bike Ride – Part II – Leisure vs. Practicality

I’m happy that we’ve started the habit of our daily bike ride here.  It’s not only good exercise, but excellent family time.  I’ve always loved biking, and I’ve always used a bike whenever I’ve lived in a place where it’s possible.  I’ve noticed that my bike usage has changed.

When I lived in Playa del Carmen (as in Toronto several years before), I rode a bike for transportation; it was a practical tool.  Sometimes I used it for personal exercise in the morning.  Now, as during my teenaged years, I ride my book for pleasure.  I go out with my dad, my wife, my three-year-old, and the two girls of the family we share a house with; it’s a big happy family/community bike ride. (My mother very kindly stays at home to take care of the baby.)

The bike rides are wonderful and I’m glad we’re in a place where we can enjoy them.

Another Odd Job; Butchering Chickens

During the past week, some of the Mennonites ladies who live in the community found a new way to generate some income.  They bought living chickens for 75 cents a piece, butchering them, removing feathers and gutting; then they sold the chickens for $3 a piece.

Recently, these ladies had been inviting my wife to join in their enterprises (including the garlic scrape cutting job I wrote about a while back.)  However, although my wife spent a few months every year of her childhood on her grandpa’s farm, she could not, for the life of her, get herself to kill, pluck or clean chickens.  What she could do was take pictures – of everything but the beheading.

Enjoy the pictures.

P.S. – I would have expected this to be a part of my Mexico experience rather than my wife’s Canada experience, but in any case, here it is.

Daily Bike Rides Part 1 - Our New Trike

We've recently started a routine of going on a family/community bike ride about 5 times a week.  Part of what mad this possible was the fact that my youngest brother bought himself an adult tricycle; he's never much liked 2-wheeled bikes, and he finally found a bike shop nearby that sells these trikes.  Now, most of us can go for our bike ride.

He loves his new trike and usually leads the pack, going down the trail well ahead of the rest of us, sometimes doubling back, other times taking a break at some of the scenic areas along the way.  We're glad that he can join us, and glad to see him so happy!

My brother on his trike

More to come about our daily bike rides.