| Lauded as the last of its kind, like a species racing towards
extinction, Puerto
Morelos, a small fishing village in the heart of the Riviera
Maya, quietly awaits its fate.
And what does fate have in store for this charming, user-friendly
pueblo -- once remote and authentic, now bi-lingual and growing?
Quien sabe? A local Mayan might answer with a shrug.
But as an early-on traveler to the coast of Quintana Roo as
it was originally known, not the Riviera Maya, I fear what might
be the inevitable.
Tell-tale signs of "progress" are everywhere. Wooden plaques
announcing "Hand embroidery by Mayan women," walls used as advertisements
painted in garish greens with "Dos Equis" slashed in bright
red, and jungle journeys promising eco-adventures all imply
changing times on the coast.
To some it's Maya in a bottle -- freeze-dried Maya. Get it
now, because in five years, what is left of this coastal paradise
will be a decision left to the gods.
A tug of war is being waged -- Maya culture versus tourist
culture. And added into the package is the weighty issue of
how this newly visible tourist status will affect the Palancar
Reef, recently renamed the great Meso-America Maya Reef. Known
as the second largest reef in the world, it parallels the Quintana
Roo coast down to Belize and is considered a prime destination
for divers and snorkelers.
With fifty permits authorized for snorkeling boat use, one
wonders how long the reef will withstand the ravages of daily
visits of 200 plus snorkelers, most bussed in from Cancún's
all inclusive resorts.
Other changes this year include two new hotels, totaling 600
rooms, which will soon open their doors in Puerto Morelos. To
Americans, this hardly sounds threatening, and realistically
speaking, these two hotels should be manageable for the town.
But what is slated still to come -- a looming mega-resort
complex with a total of 3,000 rooms in 23 pod style hotels on
600 hectares of prime beach front land known as "Magic Beach"
-- one wonders if Puerto Morelos will survive.
In 1998 Puerto Morelos was declared a natural protected area
-- a national reef park - by presidential decree. As home to
both the Regional Center for Fishery Investigations and the
National University Institute for Ocean and Limnology Sciences,
these two research institutes conducted experiments on the reef
which assisted in its becoming a national reef park.
Helping this decision was the work done by Lu'um Ka'naab,
a non-profit environmental organization which takes a long range
look at local development, including that of the reef and the
surrounding mangroves. Lu'um Ka'naab began in 1995 under the
direction of the late Ana Mario Aguilar who had moved to Puerto
Morelos in the '80s and opened a bed and breakfast. Her desire
was to preserve this pristine area, and now her daughter, Ana
Luisa Aguilar Almada, heads up the group.
Through a handful of donations and a skeletal band of volunteers,
Aguilar keeps Lu'um Ka'naab humming. Almost single handedly
she has taken on the battle against the monolithic hotels which
have attempted to begin construction both north and south of
town. Some will include marinas, tennis courts, golf courses.
Aquilar is the epitome of David versus Goliath and as the
town grows she has reached out for support to feed the machine
which keeps development in check.
But with the changing face of Puerto Morelos, now more bedroom
community than rustic pueblo, a somewhat indolent attitude prevails
as American and Canadian investors move in seeking fun and profit,
with little thought given to the locals, the land, the culture.
Most newcomers do not come to live on the land and commune with
the locals. They come to build as many units or bedrooms as
possible, at times ignoring the scant land use policies or building
restrictions to better their pocketbooks. The primary concern
to most newcomers on this gold coast can be summed up in two
words: Income property.
Not unlike marauders of old, it is hard to dismiss the parallels
of an earlier time over 400 years ago when another set of invaders
came and conquered.
But perhaps the true conquerer of Puerto Morelos will be the
next new mega-resort. Rumors are flying around town suggesting
that construction will begin on the largest of these projects
this year. Lu'um Ka'naab says nothing has yet been written in
stone, and approval is still required on a number of environmental
decrees before the project can start.
According to Aguilar, portions of this prime beach front land
bought by one of the hotel corporations was done through dealings
with former Quintana Roo Governor Mario Villanueva, in office
until 1998 when he disappeared just as his term ended.
Villanueva, a fugitive, according to a Wall Street Journal
article of August 1999, had convinced the Mexican federal government
to cede over 1000 acres of coastal land to state government
control. Then, as his term ended, he sold off this former federal
coast to developers and hotel chains, land that had never been
slated for development until Villanueva started his ambitious
maneuverings.
Who loses in cases like these? The Mexican people, for certain,
and really, all those people of the world who favor nature over
development.
And what will become of Puerto Morelos? Perhaps the town has
already been handed its death sentence, and now, like a death
row inmate, awaits the last supper. But unlike classic '40s
film noir, there may not be a midnight call to justice by a
sympathetic governor granting a reprieve.
Will Puerto Morelos, a sleepy fishing village on the Maya
coast, vanish after its 15 minutes of fame and become just another
Playa del Carmen? The answer is a complicated one -- and one
that is still being written. The next five years will tell the
story.
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