dama de lavandería

Chanchen, Mexico

Sometimes I think about what I may have done had I lived anywhere but here and ended up being anyone other than who I am. I rather doubt this Mayan woman ever shared that thought.

The day was Tuesday, David, Marci and I had traveled south down highway 307 to the Mayan town and ruin of Muyil. At the ruin we inspected the ancient work of proud men, met a collection of disinterested dogs, walked on a well constructed board walk through the jungle, climbed a rather precarious, termite nibbled lookout tower five stories high giving us a panoramic view of the jungle and lagoon around us, found ourselves at the lagoon and chatting with a group of optimistic Mayans hoping to take us on a boat trip across that lagoon - which didn't work outso well for them - and eating a curious piece of fruit that had fallen from a fruit tree. Having satisfied ourselves with that adventure we took up our next - which was to drive down an unknown road (without a map to guide us) to an obscure little town known as Chanchen.
While we had been entertaining ourselves with our eco-friendly tour of the jungle and countryside, the lovely woman in this picture busied herself with her day's work. Being the laundramat, as it were, in the town of Chanchen, she had her work piled high around her - along with her (from what I could count) were 10 family members, assorted dogs and numerous chickens.
The children in the yard couldn't have been more pleased as I asked to take pictures - they giggled and danced about, opening the gate for me and running to get their baby brother for his photo-op.
The house, surrounded by a stone wall, was made of sticks with a tin roof, the floor dirt, the door and windows wide open. A TV was keeping the attention of numerous adults inside as the dama de lavanderia concentrated on making the whites white and the colored tee-shirts as brilliant as possible. She was shy, but tried to smile as she showed me how she performed her skill in the shade of the tree.
She may have never pondered her fate - let alone question it - but I know she knows what tomorrow will bring for her. Her future is secure in this small town of adobe houses, small shops filled with the essentials of water, pop and chips, her Mayan Church in the center of 'town', and the most occasional tourist asking to take a photo of what she does best.