Myself and 30 others loaded into two seemingly interchangeable vans as we tried to recharge our near empty physical batteries for what was planned for that evening. We were headed to a bar that was built around a cenote, a natural pool of freshwater. After a half an hour drive along roads that can hardly be considered such (I’m pretty sure we didn’t top 25mph the entire time), I wasn’t feeling all that ready to party.
One of the photographers on my van helped book the DJs for this club so she knew where to stop and let everyone off. Thank God that we had her, because unlike most of the other clubs in the area, this one didn’t have a grand entrance that ensured you were in the right place. Rather, the front had an open concept with a health conscious cafe and clothing boutique surrounded by palms. We were led along a gravel path, passing two bars and a kitchen that filled the air with the sweet scent of truffle oil. Booths made up of rope netting were positioned alongside natural wood tables. The rest of the decor was equally as creative, all using materials from the surrounding land. With the entire place being outside, it felt like these pieces were meant to be there. Everything was carefully thought out, and it showed.
All of this was before we even arrived at the cenote, which was hidden farther down the path. It felt like we were walking away from civilization and into the jungle. Then suddenly, after ducking under several tree branches and dodging massive leaves, the overgrown path gave way to a sparkling body of water surrounded by a narrow wooden deck. Pillows were placed along the edge of the water and tables were tucked into corners covered in greenery. A DJ booth was in the middle of the deck and a bar was hidden at one end. As soon as I laid my eyes on this view I was immediately struck with a jolt of energy and a strong urge to dive right in.
I set my bag down with the rest of my group and grabbed my welcome cocktail, a hibiscus mezcalita (I’m a sucker for mezcal), quickly downed it, then immediately stripped down to my swimsuit. There were only two people in the water, my friend’s eleven year old daughter and one of the guests who came from Germany. I dove into the cenote and was overcome with a feeling of joy. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried. Gliding through the water, I found myself to the center and floated on my back. The top layer was warm, but if I pushed my hand further beneath me I could feel a sudden drop in temperature. With my ears submerged I turned the volume down on the blaring of the speakers and the hum of conversations, resulting in a muffled background noise. In the midst of a busy scene, I felt alone. It was one of those “I don’t believe this is real life” moments.
Pretending to be a mermaid and repetitively jumping in, then climbing out of the water, over and over again quickly wore me out. I air dried in the sun while bopping my head to the rhythm my friends at the turntables were playing. Around me, people were snapping photos of the astonishing view, trying to engrave this memory into their minds and their camera rolls.
A set of grey clouds quickly formed around us and the light dimmed as if someone flipped off a switch. The photographers were pleased with the overcast weather, perfect for taking photos. It began to rain, but that didn’t stop us from partying. If anything, it made the evening even more perfect. Dancing in the warm rain reminded me of childhood when my brothers and I used to sit in the puddles along our quiet neighborhood street.
I live for the moments that make me forget my age, throwing me into a time capsule and allowing me to relive my youth.
I returned to the van that night soaked, yet my spirit was anything but dampened.
