John Mahar's Blog

Education, Spanish, Travel, Poems, Bonnaroo reports, and more.

Monday, August 03, 2009


Engagement Story

It's getting around in some circles. I came back from Mexico engaged!

Figuring I don't want or plan to ever have to get engaged again, I decided to do a good job.

I hid the ring in my carry-on bag, hoping desperately that when the security re-ran my bag through the scanner they weren't going to ask loudly, "Sir, what is this diamond-engagement-ring-like object we see here on the x-ray?" "Haha," I laughed nervously. "Must be my harmonicas!"

Dodge with fate. So far so good. We arrived at our cabin, outside of Tulum, Mexico, about an hour and a half drive south of Cancun. Cabana numero 13. While some would see this as bad luck, for me, it is the opposite. A sign from the gods. When I was in little league, I purposefully chose number 13 for myself. Not that I had a killer little league career.

Some transfers of objects from bag to bag was the next near-discovery of the ring. But no problems. On Thursday we had planned to visit the ruins of the Coba group. Mayan ruins, fairly significant. Thanks to the fact that they are not in the USA and not closer to Cancun, they are not overrun with insanity. Or, from another perspective, you could call them dangerous. For example, and pertinent to the story, you can climb one of the pyramids there. Nohoch Mul. I asked around before we got there to make sure this was possible. You can see where this is going, but you missed Tuesday, which was so hot that Lahla, in her words, was melting. A refusal by her to climb the tallest (and steep) pyramid in the Yucatan was a distinct possiblity.

So as we approached (after already having walked over a mile in the jungle heat), I started talking about how cool pyramids are, sacred energy, power, wide base, you can imagine. But she was willing. And every ten steps or so we traded compliments. Lahla joked that if we were to have decided to trade a compliment every step we would have been there for days. But we got to the top, sat down, and I took her hand.

"I want you to marry me," I said, and until I got the little package out she still had no idea what was happening. Then she saw it, realized what was happening, and cried (out of happiness, I'm assuming, since she said yes).

A woman in the multitude noticed and offered the first congratulations and to take our picture.