Cacophony in Paradise

View from our balcony in Mexico

View from our balcony in Mexico

We had a marvelous time in Mexico! The resort was on the cozy side and just around the corner from a puebla; the best of both vacation experiences. We had the ease of being catered to and I had a little Mexican town to wander if I got tired of a well-groomed poolside. I didn’t get tired of the poolside; the company was too good. Dr. Doctor was incredibly easy to travel with. Both of us are introverted—he more so than me—no one’s feelings were hurt if we wandered off alone or got lost in a book or taken hostage by a nap. I even learned an important lesson about myself on this trip. I’m not a big fan of constant noise and it makes me bitchy.


It all started on the airplane: we were surrounded by exuberant 20-somethings and crying babies. I should have put my ear buds in at that point. Because then we were engulfed with noise in the Cancun custom’s hall, a granite box of bouncing people voices. The queuing up point for transport resembles the main train depot in New Delhi with swarms of people and drivers shouting at travelers and each other. The only thing missing were noisome and mysterious smells. After we plowed through the people, found our transport, we were in a van with nine other people who were all talking at once. My back was killing me and my brain was full. The only obvious thing to do was slam two beers.


I don’t drink beer.


The look on Dr. Doctor’s face when I reached for a second beer was priceless and his: “easy there missy” was even funnier. But then I had just downed a beer in two gulps so everything was funny.


Days later I was approaching sleep deprived chocolate mess. There was a group of 30-somethings who were must have been away from their “real lives” for the first time ever because they were awake, laughing, and shrieking their joy until 3-4 in the morning. They brought their stunt livers with them because they started the party all over again by ten every morning. At least they weren’t angry drunks.


Stone cold sober, I did the angry part. Mid-way through the week I stumble out of the bedroom mid-morning, bleary-eyed and slightly hung over despite the fact I had a single cocktail the night before. That sweet boyfriend of mine looks at me and simply asked:
“You ok?”

“Did I do something?”


“Welp you are on your own cuz I just did my part.”


This stopped me dead in my tracks. How the hell did I end up with someone so damn healthy? Seconds after I fell in love with him all over again; I apologized and explained the sleep deprivation was talking. He did the best thing and left me alone for a while and I huddled on the couch with white noise blaring in my ears in deep meditation. There was a fair amount of kicking my own ass for being a bitch, too.


I’m not sure if this new aversion to noise is a result of the aging process or if it’s because now I live alone and work alone. The majority of my days are spent in near silence with single voices speaking to me. There are no ringing phones; no distant voices like there were in the cube farm. There are no alarms, voices talking over one another, or phones constantly sounding like in the hospital. I don’t have children and televisions or gaming devices sounding at me like I did a decade ago. My life is quiet.


I like quiet.


My previous trips to Mexico The Girl and I stayed in apartments. The complexes were quiet because the people around us weren’t partiers and we liked it like that. We would go out to nosy places in the evening but never stayed terribly long. The resorts we stayed were mega sized and our room was far from the pool and other public areas.


How did I cope with the constant noise in India? Everything else about India was so overwhelming that the constant tuk-tuk, car, and lorry horn conversation was just part of it. Diwali was another story: constant gunpowder fire crackers made for a sleepless and nerve racking night.

Our resort was almost as noisy as Diwali.

What is the moral of this story? There are several actually:

Drinking two beers in rapid succession does not help with sensory overload.

  • I’m prone to sensory overload and need to travel with noise canceling headphones.
  • I should never again stay by the pool at a resort.
  • I like people who use their inside voices even when they are outside.

That boyfriend of mine has the patience of Job. He was annoyed but he wasn’t a sniveling bitch about the carnival atmosphere of the resort.

That was apparently my job this vacation. This summer when we venture off together again I’ll have those earphones so I keep a civil tongue in my head.




About Laura

When my nest emptied I moved from the big city to a little big town to tend to a ramshackle yellow house on the edge of town. These are my Yellow House Days.
This entry was posted in life away from the yellow house, Wild things. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Cacophony in Paradise

  1. I find myself doing the same exact thing now that I live in such total quiet. I start going crazy when there is a lot of chaos going on. Spring break Mexico sounds like my idea of a nightmare but the place looks amazing!


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