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 From: anya@rocketmail.com
 original etoj istorii raspolozhen na stranichke avtora:
 http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Academy/5206/dream.htm
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                      Tam, gde konchaetsya nebo,
                      Tam, gde plachet gitara v nochi,
                      YArkie yuzhnye zvezdy,
                      Strannikam svetyat v puti.
                                           Bravo.




     nachalsya  dovol'no  sumburno, vozmozhno potomu, chto dejstvie
vse eshche proishodilo v New Jorke. Posle bessonnoj nochi, Avtor  s
radost'yu  i  neterpeniem  sdala  test po molekulyarnoj biologii,
primeniv svoi sobstvennye zakony genetiki (i pravda, Mendel'  -
eto  uzhe tak staro!). Dalee sobytiya razvivalis' sootvetstvenno:
my toaster



(just  out  of  spite  and  mean character) decided to burn the
bagel which was the only breakfast/lunch/dinner for  that  day.
Then,  the  wonderful  aroma  of burnt bagel has been spreading
around the hall, until it reached one of my "lovely" neighbors,
who  decided to share this interesting fact with dorm's securi­
ty. After hearing the knock on my door, I  opened  the  window,
almost  threw  the  treacherous toaster out on the street (from
the fifth floor, that is), and sprayed as  much  parfume  as  I
could to cover up the accident (the room smelled like Poeme for
the next two  weeks.  no  comments).  "The  innocent  girl"-act
worked with security, so they never found out that I AM the bad
bad person who doesn't know how to  use  electrical  appliances
(technology, what can I do? I'm out of fashion), and then I was
able to grab my bags and run to the airport.
     Newark  airport  is  pretty  nice,  no  moi mysli zanimalo
chto-to drugoe - epopeya s pasportom prodolzhalas'.
     (Lord,  or whoever else is up there, I humbly thank you
for stupidity and ignorance of US immigration  authorities  who
let  me  out  and  then  let  me into this country with invalid
Ukrainian passport. Lord, grant those people  some  more  igno­
rance and kindness towards our poor immigrant souls. Amen.)
The plane was small, like really small - which was a bit alarm­
ing. Even though we were supposed to leave at 8:30 p.m., we ac­
tually left an hour later because the pilot was in the mood  to
practice  his  skills  -  like  K-turns, U-turns, and all other
turns - probably not considering that some of us actually want­
ed to get to Cancun.
     Well, after 4 more hours, we landed in the country of palm
trees, beautiful sea, large sombreros, and tequila (the stereo­
types  are  working alright, can't you tell?) Another hour - we
got a stamp, allowing our admission to the country  (the  immi­
gration  people  were  really surprised to see "Ukraine" in the
"citizenship" line, have they ever heard  of  my  motherland?),
pushed a button to prove that we aren't bringing anything ille­
gal (God, it's so ridiculous! The customs person tells you  "if
you swear that you don't have anything prohibited, push the red
button" - of course, you push the button, then the green  light
lights up - and you are free to enter Mexico. Circus.), got our
luggage - and finally got out into some fresh night  air.  God,
it  was  around 25 degrees Celcius (a nice change from cold and
grey New York!). After paying 18 bucks for a great pleasure  of
being stuffed in a little van with a bunch of other travellers,
we were off to discover Cancun.

Yes, I admit, I am one of those people who work for liv­ ing, and I don't have a lot of extra money either (sponsors and donations are always welcome) - so, obviously, I didn't stay in Sheraton or Hyatt. Nope, it was much simpler - youth hostel, but before I will go on to description of our youth hostel to scare you a bit, I'd rather think of our first glance at Cancun in the darkness of the night. Actually, Cancun consists of two parts: hotel zone and downtown. Hotel zone: lots of hotels (duh?), lots of tourists, lots of American college kids who form one body with a bottle of beer in one hand, and tequila shot - in another (and I am not judgmental, not at all?!), and beaches, beaches, beaches. Downtown: market (tipichno russkij bazar, no ob etom pozzhe), more authentic hotels, some stores, restaurants, and the real Mexican people (isn't it what you come to Mexico for?). Takaya roskosh' kak Hotel zone byla mne ne po karmanu, tak chto ya lyubovalas' na eti kartinki "horoshei zhizni" tol'ko cherez okno mashiny. Po obeim storonam dorogi rosli... pal'my (prostite, Avtor vse eshche v shoke - nu ne videl chelovek do etogo zhivuyu pal'mu i vse tut!) Vot tam pal'my i shelestyat na vetru... ZHizn'... Vozle otelei, oni sdelali zelenuyu podsvetku vorkug derev'ev, tak chto noch'yu edesh' - a vokrug prekrasnyi takoi svet, pryam tebe "Volshebnik izumrudnogo goroda" (dlya dush bolee prostyh - think "Kakoe vse zelenoe", that vill describe the picture better!). Oteli... Bol'shie, svetlie, v osnovnom, v psevdo-maya stile - v vide ogromnyh piramid ili hramov (perhaps, a bit too flashy - but with this kind of weather and surround­ ings - it works). Pokatav nas po vsemu gorodu i izbavivshis' ot bolee "bogatyh" passazhirov, voditel' nakonec-to privez nas k mestu naznacheniya - youth hostel. Dlya neosvedomlennyh tovarishchei: youuth hostel - studencheskaya gostinitsa, chto srazu podrazumevaet - deshevo i serdito. A voobshche, etot youth hostel - nu tochno sovetskij pionerskij lager': i obstanovka, i udobstva, da i okruzhenie tozhe. Stoyal on na beregu Karibskogo morya, pod sen'yu pal'm - i veter gulyal po koridoram. Edinstvennym polozhitel'nym kachestvom byla deshevaya cena, more, i vending machine s Fantoi (kstati, oni tam vse eshche p'yut Fantu - klass, sbylis' moi mechty!). Prosnuvshis' rano utrom, poshli my brodit' vdol' plyazha - belyj belyj pesok.... golubaya voda... solnce... i vse te zhe pal'my (Avtor nikak ne mozhet otoiti, a?) The youth hostel: sovetskij pionerskij lager', ogromnie komnaty so mnozhestvom krovatei (po-vidimomu, po principy "chem bol'she, tem luchshe"), postel'noe bel'e somnitel'noi svezhesti, kolonny murav'ev, veselo begayushchih tuda-nazad and a bunch of strangers sharing this luxury with us. The front desk person - Rodrigo-Miguel-Fernando (ili v obratnom poryadke) was always nice and smiling, although God knows what he was thinking of two "American" girls who were trying to explain something in a mixture of English, Spanish and French. The staff of the "ho­ tel", consisting of two middle-aged guys who liked to stare at tourists, usually just hung out in the cool lobby watching car­ toons on TV. The first two days we just walked along the shore, unable to believe that it IS summer all around us. But our Spartan at­ titude soon expired, and we went Downtown to find ourselves a "decent" hotel. Vdohnovlennie mysl'yu, chto gde-to tam, za gorizontom, za oknom avtobusa, est' tot samij nebol'shoi uyutnij otel', v kotorom nas davno uzhe zhdut, my shvatili nashi veshchi, otdali klyuchi, i samoe glavnoe vernuli ... hmm... postel'noe bel'e i gordo potashchilis' po zhare v storonu avtobusnoi ostanovki. Gordost'-gordost'yu, no eshche cherez pyat' minut my slovili taxi i poehali v gorod. Kstati o taxi: Vo-pervyh, oni, vidya turistov, zalamyvayut Bog znaet kakie ceny, rasshchityvaya na neznanie rascenok ili bol'shoe kolichestvo deneg. And then, when two "American" girls are walking on the street, the drivers probably think of us as of two poor little brainless females who just cannot walk a couple of feet all on their own (now, that's a compli­ ment!) and every two minutes you hear nice and suggestive: "Senorita! Taxi!" S odnoi storony eto besit, potomu chto ne takie uzhe my neponyatlivye i glupye. No s drugoi storony takoe vnimanie bezuslovno priyatno. Gde v Nev Yorke vozle tebya ostanovitsya taxi i tebe "myagko i nenavyazchivo" budut predlagat' svoi uslugi? Tak chto nedelyu mozhno bylo sebya chuvstvovat' kak Donald Trump vyhodyashchij iz Plaza Hotel. Ponyatno, konechno, chto vse v Cancune napravleno dlya udobstva i udovol'stviya turistov - but let's admit it: when people are constantly smiling to you, offering you dinner at a restaurant (for the price twice as high, of course), or inviting you to night clubs - it's pleas­ ant, naturally. Tourism is the only way for the town to make some money - so, somebody's gotta pay that money. Well, sorry to disappoint them, that "somebody" wasn't us.

Our first night out, we got caught by a promise of "real Mexican cuisine". Well, first, the restaurant was full of white American tourists , the dinner was tiny but, I guess, the high price was supposed to compensate for the lack of food. And "only for two beautiful senoritas", we got two really bad margaritas. Well, Lord, thank you for that warn­ ing - we got smarter afterwards. The next evening we went to the Mexican part of the town - narrow, dark streets, bars, men drinking outside and passing comments (drinking, huh? is this some kind of subconscious pull to our "native Russian" culture, stereotypically thinking?) So, we stopped at this little restaurant - "El Quelito" on Avenida Uxmal. A little place, with tables on the street, and pictures of some nice vegetable family: Dad - Potato, in sombrero, of course, Mom - tomato, etc. (po-vidimomu, posledovateli Chippolino) But it's not important. The bomb was the great food and Roger, the one and only waiter. The food . . . well, it was the first time we had authentic Mexican food - and it was awesome! Now, you just can go back to Taco Bell, no way. Well, once again, "the two beautiful senoritas" got a free shot of tequila with Sprite - was it really free or was Roger too hospitable and trying to get us drunk? Who knows, but that was rather interest­ ing. By the way, I've never been called "beautiful" that many times in my entire life. Of course, nice attitude sells, and, perhaps, it's just part of the business - but God, it works! After a couple of days we already believed that we are truly unique and beautiful (just like any other white girl vaca­ tioning in Cancun). Odnazhdy, za paru dnei do ot'ezda, my torgovalis' za kakie-to suveniry na odnom iz mnogochislennyh bazarchikov. Torgovets, zhalobno glyadya nam v glaza, naznachal svoyu ceny, my, tak zhe zhalobno glyadya emu v galza i placha o tyazheloi zhizni bednyh russkih studentov, govorili v dva raza men'she. On pereshel k celovaniyu ruk (v golove yarko zamigala nadpis' "Sexual harrassment" - vot vam plody amerikanskogo vospitaniya!), vzyvaya k nashei sovesti i poglyadyvaya na nashi karmany; my zhe, vydav sebya za studentov iz Rossii, plakali o tom kak tyazhelo my rabotali, chtoby popast' v Cancun, dramatichno potryasaya pered ego litsom temi samymi rukami, kotorymi my rabotali. My soshlis' poseredine, plyus urok russkogo yazyka. Na proshchanie on gromko krichal nam vsled: "Dasvedaniya, krrrrasavitsy!" Vobshchem, serdce taet, chto i govorit'! Mysli, odnako, bluzhdayut - let's go back to our friend Roger. Just like any other waiter in Cancun, he invited us to have dinner at his restaurant. The first time we had dinner there - it was just a small talk: US blah blah blah, Cancun blah blah blah, Americans blah blah blah etc. Roger lived in the US for awhile, so we had a lot to talk about. Well, the second time we went there for dinner, the topic of conversation gradually switched to young people, relationships, then smooth­ ly to drugs, and then, to criminal justice system in the United States. It appeared that our good friend Roger was a crack ad­ dict who spent three years in Florida prison for murder. Whether he really killed that person, we don't know. Odnako poslushav chasa tri ego rasskazy i posle ozhivlennogo debata o smertnoi kazni, my poshchitali chto zhit' vse zhe hochetsya. Nu a krome shutok, my dovol'no po druzheski rasproshchalis', pozhelav emu udachi i drug free life.. I guess, that was the person that we won't forget easily after coming back to New York. Our life was absolutely beauitful. Why? Because we were doing NOTHING! Usually, we got up early in the morning, went to the supermarket to get rolls, fruit and yogurt and took a bus to the beach. Rolls - the bread there actually HAS TASTE! (un­ like its American version) and it's really cheap. Even if we were really poor, we could have survived only on bread. Fruit - well, there goes the story: the tap water in Mexi­ co is bad, which means you have to wash fruit with spring water (and it can appear rather costly after a while). So, the whole time we had only bananas and kiwi. And I'd say it was pretty good. Yogurt - egurt kak egurt, no kazhdij den'??! Eshche dolgo posle vozvrashcheniya v Nev York my ne mogli na nego smotret'. S utra na plyazhe bylo spokoino i prekrasno. Tol'ko my i more. I eshche letayut nad vodoi pelikany v poiskah ryby, a potom pod pryamym uglom padayut v volny i hvatayut dobychu. K poludnyu prosypayutsya zagulyavshie turisty i nachinayut progulivat'sya vdol' plyazha s neizmennoi butylkoi piva v ruke. S intervalom v 15 minut prohodyat torgovcy i prelagayut odeyala, zolotye i serebryanye ukrasheniya i t.d. - Senorita, buy this nice little necklace for your boyfriend! (Well, that "little necklace" somehow really reminded a thick collar - my boyfriend is not a dog! I dnem i noch'yu kot uchenij vse hodit po cepi krugom? Po-vidimomu...) Kak i na plyazhe, tak i na malen'kom bazarchike v dovntovn'e predlagayut prakticheski odni i te zhe suveniry za basnoslovnye ceny (po nashemu mneniyu) ili "almost for free!" kak uveryayut torgovcy. - Senorita, buy a bracelet! (i tak s nebol'shimi intervalami eshche 5 minut, ne ponimaya otveta "No, gracias")V konce koncov terpenie istoshchaetsya: - I don't have any money!!!! - What?!! Senorita, you spent all of OUR mon­ ey?! (s nepoddel'nym udivleniem v golose. Den'gi turistov prinadlezhat torgovcam i gorodu. To est' kak ih mozhno bylo rastratit', ne soglasovav s nim?) Ili drugoi primer biznesmena: - Senorita, give me just 5 Mexican minutes!! You thought that one minute anywhere in the world has 60 seconds? You were wrong! In Mexico time goes on slowly, nobody's rushing to make money - this is not America. "Five Mexican minutes" could last for a couple of hours. Eto nam srazu napomnilo o nashei istoricheskoi rodine. V punkte obmena valyuty turist mozhet zhdat' hot' pol chasa, bud' ty belij, bogatij i t.d. - a poka eta zhenshchina ne pogovorit po telefonu, valyuty vy ne uvidite. Ili: pri vhode v arheologicheskuyu zonu Tulum sidel politseiskij, kotorij, po idee, dolzhen byl sledit' za poryadkom, a na samom dele prosto sidel i spal v teni. Vot vam i "nasha militsiya nas berezhet." Odnazhdy vecherom my ne poshli v club, a prosto gulyali po gorodu. I nabreli na gorodskoi park. Po-moemu, eto byl voskresnij vecher. Po parku gulyali pary i roditeli s det'mi. Muzhchiny v belyh rubashkah i bryukah, naryadno odetye zhenshchiny, malen'kie zhutko krasivye detki. Skazhete, prosto obychnaya mirnaya kartina? Da net, ne takaya uzh obychnaya. Za gody v Amerike potihon'ku otvykaesh' ot lyudei na ulitsah (I'm not talking about New York City here), ot roditelei gulyayushchih s det'mi... Raznye strany, raznaya mental'nost'.. (Po-moemu, Avtor opyat' pod vliyaniem vospominanij o proshlom...A nado li??) Mnogochislennye agenty predlagali nam povsyudu: na plyazhe, vozle otelei, na ulitsah Kankuna svoi tury. Odnako "senerity" reshili proyavit' svoyu samostoyatel'nost', osoznav, chto deneg na ekskursiyu s gidom nam vse ravno ne hvatit. My nashli avtovokzal, vybrali samuyu deshevuyu cenu, i, s gorem popolam ob'yasnivshis' s kassirshei, kupili bilety v Tulum. Tulum - eto po idee arheologicheskaya zona, gde mozhno uvidet' vse, chto ostalos' ot goroda maya. Proidya pol chasa po pyl'noi doroge, probivshis' cherez stroi nazoilivyh torgovcev, my nakonets-to pereshli cherez porog i popali v mir maya (El Mundo Maya). Srazu zabyvaesh' o dolgom puteshestvii v razboltannom avtobuse, o zhare i pyli, o tolpah turistov, kotorye poslushno hodyat za gidom, razgovarivaya o pogode v Minnesote i o yede v ih otele. Ty vidish' kamni, razvaliny hrama, drevnie stupeni, ty chuvstvuesh' gody istorii vokrug tebya. Mozhno zabrat'sya na utes ryadom s hramom, i ottuda otrkyavaetsya absolutno potryasayushchaya po svoei krasote kartina: ogromnoe beskrainee neperedavaemo sine-goluboe more, neveroyatno prekrasnogo ottenka, takogo, o kotorom dolgo mechtaesh', a potom, uvidev, ne hochesh' uhodit'. Vnizu byl belyi plyazh i sil'nye volny. Oni bilis' ob utes, i bryzgi leteli v litsa lyudei. Kogda na nebe prohodila tucha, po vode dvigalas' chernaya ten', i kazalos', chto kakoe-to chudovishche seichas vstanet iz vody i vmeste s nim ozhivut zhiteli etogo drevnego goroda. (See what vivid imagination and a couple of horror movies can do to your psyche?)

Byl absolutno solnechnij, zharkij, lenivyi den'. Dolina kazalas' usnuvshei: siesta - a vecherom, vozmozhno vse menyalos'? Vozle storozhevoi bashni sidela ogromnaya yashcheritsa. Kak zastyvshee izvayanie ona kazalas' chast'yu etih kamnei i ne obrashchala vnimanie na ozhivlennyh turistov, kotorye ne perestavali yee fotografirovat'. Estestvenno, v Tulume u nas zakonchilas' plenka v fotoapparate, tak chto ostalis' lish' vospominaniya i para otkrytok. ZHal', no my tak i ne uvideli piramidy hramov maya v gorodke CHichen Itza. Udachi tem, kto tam eshche pobyvaet. Obratno v Kankun my vozvrashchalis' v avtobuse. Voobshche avtobusy tam - yavlenie neobyknovennoe. U gorodskih avtobusov v marshrutah ne zaputaesh'sya - ih tam ne tak uzh i mnogo - i bilet stoit raza v tri deshevle, chem v Nev Yorke (a voobshche to cena zavisit ot kursa dollara, poka my tam byli - cena menyalas' dvazhdy). Vprochem, voditeli otnosyacya k lyudyam dovol'no blagozhelatel'no i ostanovyacya vozle tebya na ulitse po signalu podnyatnoi ruki. Samoe interesnoe nachinaetsya, kogda vam neobhodimo vyiti tam, gde net oficial'noi ostanovki. Na kriki "Stop! Stop!" voditel' inogda ne reagiruet, tak chto my vyskakivali gde ugodno, lish' by ne poteryat'sya. CHerez paru dnei my nauchilis' delat' eto kak "nastoyashchie" meksikancy. Posle etogo my uzhe gromko krichali "Vayan!" - dveri srazu otkryvalis', avtobus dazhe inogda ostanavlivalsya, i vse shlo svoim cheredom. V osnovnom, gorodskie avtobusy v Kankune byli dovol'no dopotopnie, no nas dobil sovsem uzh unikal'nij ekzemplyar: etot avtobus byl uzh sovsem kakih-to mikroskopicheskih razmerov, i samoe interesnoe, chto siden'ya tam yavno ne byli rasshchitany na lyudei vyshe srednego rosta - nogi mezhdu siden'yami pochemu-to ne pomeshchalis', posle etogo ochen' hotelos' byt' vremenno egom. Vecherom, uzhe ustalye ot nichegonedelaniya, my vozvrashchalis' v nash otel' (Kak prekrasno chto my ego nashli!) V tot den', kogda my tak reshitel'no pokinuli youth hostel (spasibo emu bol'shoe za nachal'noe gostepriimstvo, no vsego ponemnozhku!), my dolgo kolesili po gorodu v taksi, no vse oteli libo byli zanyaty, libo byli prosto nam ne po karmanu. Nakonets, my osoznali, chto voditelyu pridecya platit' slishkom mnogo, a tolku net. I tak my okazalis' v zharkij polden' na glavnoi ulitse Kankuna so vsemi veshchami i bez opredelennogo mesta zhitel'stva. Well, Thank God, or thank my friend Bella - but in an hour we got a good room in a pretty nice hotel in the center of downtown Cancun. For those who know (does this sound impor­ tant, or what?), we stayed in Hotel Colonial (conveniently located across from Pizza Hut, vending machine with Fanta and a bunch of restaurants where "amigos" in large sombreros sand some serenades and tear-jerking songs for American tourists ev­ ery evening. - A week ago I think I saw the same "amigos" singing in New York subway. They looked a bit more worn and tired, and their sombreros lost all color and golden decora­ tions. Or maybe it was only my imagination....)

We even had a fridge with a bottle of wine left by previ­ ous tenants and a TV. It had only 4-5 channels (not that we could understand anything!), but with our luck they only thing on TV for that couple of days was some kind of outdated Van Damme marathon. Go figure. The rest was either American sitcoms and shows or old movies, or one of the many Mexican soap operas (pamyati "Dikoi Rozy" i "Prosto Marii" posvyashchaetsya...) One of the most beautiful things about Cancun was La Isla Mujeres (ostrov zhenschin). Of course, there were organized trips there, with unlimited drinks and food on the boat, and other perks. My, proletarii, prosto poehali v port, i ottuda na katere s turistami i mestnymi rabochimi napravilis' k ostrovu. Po nachalu: "Ah, kak krasivo! Posmotri na vodu, kakaya ona zelenaya!" No uzhe cherez 10 minut, glyadya na nashi litsa mozhno bylo skazat': "Kakoe odnako zelenoe!" Vse srabotalo po principy "ZHadnost' fraera sgubila" (hm.. proshu proshchenia za takoe vyrazhenie!), no istina zaklyuchaetsya v tom, chto chem deshevle bilet, tem dol'she put' k "zemle neobetovannoi." Na ostrove turistam srazu predlagayut massu razvlechenij, no my prosto obognuli port i popali na samyi krasivyi plyazh, kotoryi ya kogda-libo videla v svoei zhizni. (If I were you, I wouldn't count on life experience of a person, who saw only Odessa, New Jersey, and New York beaches. Not an expert.) Pesok tam byl belyi-belyi, pal'my i voda... absolutno prozrachnaya, neobyknovenno sine-zelenogo cveta, i nad vsem etim chistoe goluboe nebo. (uvidev eto ponimaesh', chto rai taki suchestvuet, i televizionnie reklamy ne vsegda vrut). Skazka. Utopiya. Idilliya. Call it whatever you want, but it was absolutely beautiful. We spent there two days - out last days in Cancun. And now when we think of the Caribbean, we al­ ways remeber the beauty of Island Mujeres.

At the end of the second day on the island, there was this terrible rain. We, and a bunch of people were standing on the pier, waiting for the ferry to return to Cancun. It came, played a little bit of music, and after a brief announcement to the public that it's broken, the ferry turned around and went to Cancun. Empty. The crowd of waiting people remained standing on the pier under the cold rain. Then there came another tour boat for the "chosen" ones, who where "to enjoy the sightsee­ ing" in this "beautiful" weather. So, that was a rather ironic picture: tolpa promokshih lyudei, holodnij grad, massovoe nastroenie na temu "Vragu ne sdaecya nash gordyi "Varyag"..",ryadom etot samij kater, i vdrug s nego kak grom sredi yasnogo (ili ne sovsem yasnogo) neba: Spice Girls - "Yo, I'll tell eu vhat I vant, vhat I really really vant.." Posle u nekotoryh nachalsya istericheskij smeh. Eto byl poslednij vecher v Kankune. Na sledushchee utro my pokinuli Meksiku. Zakonchilos' leto, i my vernulis' v holod i dojd' v Nevark'e. V aeroportu lyudi dovol'no zavistlivo glyadeli na nash svezhij zagar, opyat' nikto ne obratil vnimanie na moi podozritel'nie dokumenty. I tak my vernulis' v "real'nost". Na sledushchee utro v Nev Yorke vypal sneg, i mozhno bylo s uverennost'yu skazat': "Net, eto vam bol'she ne Cancun." Eshche gde-to nedelyu my ne mogli "vernut'sya v zhizn'" i zhili prekrasnym proshlym, no vskore zhizn' vzyala svoe, i ostalis' lish' neskol'ko fotografij, yarkoe odeyalo, muzyka, duhi, i vospominaniya... --------------------------------------------------------------- This represents only the Author's opinion of Cancun, and is not meant to be offensive towards anybody.

Last-modified: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 17:21:14 GMT
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