Not Hair Paradise

I don’t know when the part of Mexico south of Cancun became known as the Mayan Riviera, but from the water it is certainly paradise. I can’t vouch for the road side which looks more like the Myrtle Riviera, as in Myrtle Beach, than the French Riviera. I have not explored off the resort property yet so I’m sure to have more colorful descriptions in days to come, but for now I am enjoying the Caribbean blue water, warm tropical breezes, soft white beach and sunshine.

Well, my mind is enjoying it, but my WASPy body is not made for paradise. Here there is no such thing as hair paradise for someone with thin, wispy, limp, lifeless hair. The natives all have thick, course, heavy, black hair that seems impenetrable to humidity and wind. I, on the other hand, look like a wet dog who just came in the house and shook to dry off and that is just after spending time washing, drying and styling my hair.

I am doing my best to keep my delicate skin from burning. I only have two skin colors, blue or red, except for where the brown age spots are. Since I don’t care to add to the spots I try and wear my giant hat as much as possible, but the wind makes that difficult. The cooling wind makes you not realize how much sun you are getting so I have to constantly monitor myself.

I went to yoga this morning for an hour to stay out of the sun only to discover it was difficult day at yoga. After an hour of continual breathing through only my nose without a moments rest between cobra, upward dog and plank I was so sweaty that my hands could not grip the yoga mat and my hair looked like, you guessed it, a wet dog.

I am just going to embrace my paradise look and be as generous with everyone else who is here. It would be too much to ask to have the people look as good as the place.