How is that OK?

How is that OK?

In my last post, I wrote about the concept of allowing…allowing for new experiences, allowing for vulnerability, allowing for the opportunity to face a new world in a place in which I don’t speak the language, know how to convert money, know a lot about the culture, know a lot about the demographics, know about how to even get around. And I was going to put myself in that situation for thirty days. What’s the worst that can happen? 

Today is my seventh day of what was supposed to be a thirty day adventure. Yes, what was “supposed to be,” yet turned out to be an aborted adventure. It will amount to a nine day adventure.

I research. A lot. Since this was to be a new type of adventure, I really researched. Joined a Yahoo discussion group comprised of people who either visit or are expats in this particular city, San Miguel de Allende. I spoke with people who have visited, subscribed to a well known international publication and read up on the demographics, culture, population, climate and whatever else I could find. 

Since I was planning on staying for a month, I decided to integrate myself into the community by renting an airbnb apartment. I chose to be a bit out of the city as I heard many times that it is a noisy city and events can go well into the night. Although I live in the fifth largest US city in a well populated central area of town, mixed residential home/apartments/condos and commercial real estate, it’s pretty quiet where I live. Advertised as a quiet one bedroom detached unit in a three apartment complex a bit out of town (“an easy twenty to thirty minute walk into town, close to buses and taxis”), it seemed perfect, so ahead I went. Negotiated a good price for what is considered a long term stay through airbnb. 

I also heard that the streets are mostly cobblestone and/or big rocks held in place via concrete, so to be sure and wear good solid walking shoes. Check. yes, fine, it IS a twenty to thirty minute walk to town if you are in really great physical shape, which I am. If not, well, prepare for a hell of a walk on very unstable surfaces up hills. Not your average stroll in a park! Some days I put as much as seven miles walking in one day.

Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a lovely couple who serve as the airbnb’s host’s property managers. They were warm and cordial, and assisted me in settling in. It was late Friday afternoon, and my host assured me she would meet with me Saturday morning to explain how things work here. Which she did, and invited me to ride with her around the neighborhood to show me around and to an adjacent neighborhood. She had told me she had an appointment in a short while, so dropped me off in that neighborhood and told me I could either walk home or take a taxi or a cab. Hmmmm, ok.

I did a bit of grocery shopping, had some food and returned home via taxi. Perhaps you will recall I don’t speak much Spanish nor do I understand the peso conversion very well, but what could I do? Hailed a taxi and was brought home.

In my airbnb description, a small laptop working table was mentioned as an amenity, and I quickly discovered that there was no table and no clock in the apartment. Who doesn’t have a clock???? So I emailed my host and requested both. She assured me that she would bring them over. My new neighbor friend and I went out walking and upon my return, I noticed a small table had been placed inside , and she had sent me an email saying she set the microwave clock for me.

 Unbeknownst to me, my host had entered my apartment without my consent or permission! Imagine that! And she accused me of leaving the apartment unlocked, saying that she thought it would be ok since it was unlocked.No, I don’t think so. It was unlocked. I don’t leave my premises unsecured.

How is that OK?

That is a clear personal safety issue, a betrayal of trust and a violation of our contractual agreement through airbnb. Now, if it was an emergency, ok. But this was hardly an emergency. 

How is that ok? 

It was time to escalate this situation to the Safety Team at airbnb, and let me tell you, those people are good. They got right on it, and wanted to know if I felt safe in my apartment. Quite impressive. Wonderful and concerned response from a few different people in the company and escalated my concern immediately.

One thing to note: My host never apologized for making me feel unsafe; actually, she attempted to turn it around by saying “And I don’t know if you can do it but if you would put yourself in my shoes and think about it maybe you will have a different perspective… When you asked me to get you a table and a clock I got them as quickly as I could, And thought that you and I were on friendly terms…”

How is that ok????

Put myself in HER SHOES? Really? What about her putting herself in my shoes, a single woman traveling in a foreign country????

Friendly terms? Seriously? We are not friends. This is a contractual business arrangement. Why on earth she thought we are friends is beyond me.

So, for that and a few other reasons, I have come to realize that my time here is finished. Soon I will share my observations on why this isn’t the place for me, as I certainly would not allow her to displace me. She is just a bad seed who obviously has no respect or integrity and her negative vibrations don’t resonate with me at all.

I just don’t see how that is ok.

What are your thoughts?

Allowing

SEX

Well, that was easy…got your attention with just three letters. Those three letters, combined together in that order, have pretty much as much power as the three words that make us shudder saying…I love you.

Many require love to have sex. Many don’t. Why is it such a push and pull thing…why can’t they be mutually exclusive AND enjoyable?

Hmmmm…studies have proven that sex is a natural and healthy exploration of ones being. Yet, many choose celibacy. Maybe it’s really not a choice. Maybe, in the case of married people who don’t have sex any longer,they just don’t like their partner. They tolerate each other and feel that there is no alternative. Maybe one partner has simply decided not to participate any longer, and the other stays for numerous reasons…the fear of being alone, the fear of losing financial status, the fear of, well, so many things.

Yet science has proven that a solid sex life strengthens relationships, keeps us healthier physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. regardless of the relationship definition; marriage, dating or simply the exploration/expression of their humanity. Humans are the only species who have sex for the hell of it, because it just feels so damn good and is so much damn fun. Proven that the loss of that aspect in relationships extinguishes vulnerability and intimacy. So we settle.

But so many of us simply can’t talk about it. The same way we can’t talk about other natural bodily functions…look at how taboo the subject of going to the bathroom is. We wonder why there is so much aggression in the world, why so many have lost their groove in life in general? When we were kids we never thought we couldn’t talk about going to the bathroom; it was taught.

I recently had a conversation with someone who has projected his lifestyle choices on me. Has said many times that he hoped I would be as “happy” as he in a “committed relationship,” yet they have not had sex in over a decade. To me, that’s not happy, it’s settling for a false security. Mentioned that I was going to see a man I haven’t seen in a few years. Said we had dated in the past. For whatever reason, he needed to know if we had “actually dated” or had a few dates. Damn, that was confusing! At what point does something go from “a few dates” to “actually dating?” Three? Four? I have had long term relationships (which for the purposes here, I will define as longer than six months) in which true intimacy and vulnerability never really occurred…married to one for nine years and never really ever felt intimate and/or vulnerable, but one significant relationship which was five months yet felt the deepest levels of vulnerability and intimacy I believe I ever will. So how does “time” become a measurement? Is it something we need, to feel justifiable? I have known some people, men AND women, for less than twenty-four hours and shared deep intimacies yet never saw that person again. Humans for whatever reason need to measure significancy in what we make up as time. It works for us that way.

I don’t like being judged for my lifestyle choices. I don’t like having to justify myself or my choices to anyone nor do I wish to be psychoanalyzed by anyone who believes themselves to exist on a higher spiritual plane or thinks I may benefit from their “observations said with love.” It sure don’t feel like love to me. When told that a behavior of mine is being brought to my attention “with love” and that I am “attaching meanings to their observations,” well….that’s a rather convenient way of deflecting responsibility for judgement. Just sayin’….

Life ain’t easy; nor are relationships of any kind. We are complicated beings and need to use markers to hold us steady. But come on. We are all here trying to figure shit out.