Playa del Carmen

Warm sun.  Blue sky.  Tropical breeze.  All this made the red-eye flight to Cancun on Spirit Airlines (which does not have reclining seats or free water) worth it.  We hopped on a bus to Playa del Carmen.  There was a girl in the seats next to us, and it took only a few minutes for a male traveler to descend upon her, vulture-like.  He plopped down uninvited and began an exhausting monologue about himself, his extensive travels, and his greatness.
"What?  You're only here for one week!" he exclaimed.  "Oh, you have to stay longer in order to really DO Mexico." 
He stated this in that particularly annoying way people have when their main purpose for travelling is to gather a list exotic locals with which to impress friends and random girls on buses. 
"You HAVE to do Akumal!" he gushed.  "It's like a European beach with couches on the sand."
Radek turned around, and asked briskly, "Which beach in Europe?"
"Uuhhhh..."  Stammer.  "That's a good question."  He tried to laugh it off, but the damage was done.
"It must be some other Europe," Radek concluded.
Mr. Know-It-All quickly went back to his seat, and all three of us burst out laughing.
Radek declared, "I just destroyed a half hour of bull shit with one sentence."

When we arrived at our hotel in Playa del Carmen, the woman at the front desk was completely confused by our arrival.  I had made a reservation weeks prior, but this was brand new information for her.  I love Mexico. 
Radek asked, "Does the room have A.C.?"
"I don't know.  Umm...it has a fan."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
After unpacking some stuff, we looked around the room.  There was a weird painting with a naked woman with wild black hair.  A large snake was slithering around her body, and she was holding a cat.  The wardrobe had exactly one hanger, and one of the lights and a fan didn't work. 
"Don't put toilet paper in the toilet," I warned.
"Is that entirely necessary?"
"Only if you don't want to clog the toilet."
"That is really unsanitary."
"Is this the shittiest hotel you've ever stayed in?"
"Yes."

Radek finds it strange that Americans constantly engage in small talk with strangers.  We say "Hello" and ask "How are you" to people as we pass by.
"Don't Germans make small talk?"
"With friends or family, but only for a short time."
"Then what do you talk about?"
"Work."
"You don't do small talk with strangers?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because if you ask someone how they are doing, then they might actually answer you."
Radek tells me that I make "big talk" because I make small talk for a long time.  But, I'm just being polite.
                    
Radek has learned that I'm a thief.  I steal things all the time.  Napkins.  Food.  Utensils.  Spices.  Bags.  I pilfer things when nobody is looking.  Later, when I produce a stolen item, such as a knife for peeling a mango, he wonders where I got it.  One night, after slyly grabbing a handful of limes from a food cart, he declared, "I'm glad you're on my side."

We found the local market and stocked up on avocadoes, nuts, mangoes, and some other snacks.  The selection of chili peppers was like a fiery rainbow. 

During the first week, we spent the days at the beach, alternating between relaxing under an umbrella and swimming in the ocean.  I read books, and Radek played Sudoku.  At the end of the day, the fishermen would return, and the men began the long process of brining the boat ashore.  They placed long cylinders under the boat to slide it easier, but it still took a great deal of sheer manpower to pull it.  One day, the waves had moved the sand in such a way that it created a small hill, making it especially difficult.  The men kept counting, "Uno, dos tres," and pulled with all their strength.  The boat refused to budge.  It was both funny and pitiful.  Finally, Radek got involved in the tug-of-war.  Boat=0.  Giant German=1.