The Pier That Kept on Growing:

Progreso was founded as a port city in 1856 during the hay days of the Henequen industry that made the Yucatan peninsula so wealthy. Henequen entrepreneurs built mansions on the east part of town and shipped out their cargos from the then 2 kilometer (1.25 mile) long wharf, which at that time was the longest stone wharf in the world. Fishing was of course another main facet of the economy then, and still is today. However, as technology advanced and cargo ships increased in size, the 2 km wharf, which only sat in about 6 meters (19.7 feet) of water, wasn’t cutting it. In 1968 a longer pier was built in Yucapetén harbor, about 6 km (3.7 miles) west of town, and though Progreso continued to receive boats, its activity severely declined. In response, Progreso extended its pier, which now stretches 4.3 km (2.6 miles) into the Gulf of Mexico. It still receives cargo ships that pick up exports such as honey, cement, fish, salt, and steel, but the majority of action the pier sees today comes from cruise ships. Tourists used to be able to walk the pier into Progreso, but for security (or perhaps financial?) reasons, it is now prohibited, and they must be bussed or taxied into town. Cruise ships come frequently (about 2 to 3 times a week) and tourism has thus become a very lucrative economic market for the people there.

Tourism: Both Sides of the Coin

Visit a major online travel agency, such as Priceline or Expedia, and you can find more than a couple Carnival cruises that list Progreso (Merida, in parentheses next to it) as a port of call. Most of the cruises offered are typically 4 or 5 night cruises, leaving from New Orleans or Florida, and traveling down to Progreso and Cozumel. Rates for a room on these ships can range anywhere from around $270 USD for an interior room to $700 for a suite.

However, Google search “Progreso Mexico,” and about half way in, at M-E-X, Google’s instant search (which brings up the most popular searches that begin in that manner) informs you that the most popular Google search is “Progreso Mexico excursions.” Turns out, although those cruise ships disgorge thousands of passengers each, the majority have already booked, or intend to book, excursion packages. The most popular excursions go to Uxmal and Merida, the Puuc Route, or Chitchen Itza. Progreso has been upping its game and doing a lot of work to its waterfront in order to entice the tourists to stick around. However, Progreso’s probably biggest tourism setback can’t be helped or fixed: it’s just too windy most days for the likes of the tourists. The other drawback is the nature of the cruises themselves; with a final port of call in Cozumel, the tourists can anticipate a beach day on the clear blue, white sand beaches of the Caribbean Sea, making it an easier decision to skip out on the coarse and windy beach town of Progreso and head inland for the ruins. The “Port Reviews” on these travel websites are quite telling; “There were tour guides in the square, and we purchased a tour to the Dzibilchaltun Mayan ruins at almost half the cost of the same tour from Carnival. We boarded a modern air-conditioned bus and headed out to the ruins,” wrote a reviewer. “Later, my wife talked to some folks who had left the market square and walked around Progresso. They said that they felt uncomfortable in the city.” 1,671 readers found this review helpful. Bob McGorkic commented, “Not much here. This is a place to get transportation to another place. You can choose between several Mayan ruins sites…Progresso is not a very good place. While we never really felt threatened or unsafe, we were offered cigars, cocaine, and hashish.” 199 readers found this review helpful. Interestingly enough, the following online review was left by a tourist who was actually in Progreso on the same day I was doing my research; “

Progreso is a dirty tourist trap. As I said in the other thread, I don't like having to avoid walking into a vendor's pee stream while walking down the street! And, I find it odd that you find the stores to be overpriced and not the vendors. We bought 1 item in Progreso. That's it. Why? Every vendor priced their items so outrageously high that I refused to bargain with them. $55 for a ceramic knick-knack? I don't think so. But, to add insult to injury -- as we walked away, he offered $5. (And, yes... I asked if he meant $55 in pesos or USD.) It seems as if the vendors in Progreso assume that Americans could not possibly understand what they are saying... I heard insults flying right in front of us. No hiding it... They insulted us and the people around us.” Of course, there were a few reviews that were kinder to Progreso; “We had a wonderful time in Progreso, despite others’ assertion that there is ‘absolutely nothing to do there.’ [We went to a restaurant and] there was a 3-man band playing all sorts of songs, from The Doors, to Elvis and Mariah Carey. We always think the more, the merrier, so my husband bought some beers for some other people that had dropped in. Eventually, we were joined by Lisa

and Marc, as well as others drawn in by the music. I don't think that Progreso had seen cruise ship passengers like us before- We were dancing and having the time of our lives. We were kept in constant supply of chips and salsa at no charge. I told the waiters that I would recommend their place on the internet, and I hope that by writing this review that they will receive additional business,” wrote Charlotte Calicchio. What I ascertained from these reviews is that, the majority of tourists did not and did not want to stick around. Charlotte e

njoyed herself, but her review is very telling, she a had a good time listening to covers of American pop and rock, and exclaimed how excellent the service was and that by writing the review, she hoped to improve their business. However, from her review, it was clear that they were spending a lot of money, buying beers for other customers and whatnot, and in exchange were given chips and salsa at no charge (Which she seemed to think was a pretty good steal. Yet, had she gone to Eladios, she would have gotten chips, salsa, enchiladas, burritos, frijoles, and seafood too, as tapas are standard in many places in this area). What charmed her were the familiar songs, attentive service, and feeling like she was getting “the special treatment.” It wasn’t the culture or food of Progreso she liked, as she wasn’t exposed to it- she stayed in

one bar listening to American music and eating chips and salsa all day. And Of course the staff was attentive; her husband was buying rounds for the place and a good review means the prospect of similar customers in the future.

This brings me to my next topic, which is thecomplex relationship and tension between the town folk and the tourists. When a cruise ship is at dock, Progreso, a normally sleepy and relaxed fishing town, is hardly recognizable. The first time I went to do research, there was no cruise ship in sight, and the locals lined the dock and pier fishing. My Spanish was still a bit rusty, and, being the beach, I had worn a bathing suit under my clothes. Sunglasses and camera in tow, I started walking along the beach, and even though the cruise ships were gone, I must have looked every bit the tourist. I knew I wanted to look at the economy for this project, and approached a father teaching his son how to fish. Thinking what a great shot that would be for the blog, I asked if I could take a picture, not wanting to be rude. They stopped laughing, and the father reached for the camera, to take a photo of/for me. I tried to explain that I wanted a photo of them, not of me, and things turned immediately awkward, yet he nodded and agreed to it. Instead of the photo of the smiling father teaching his son how to fish, I got a photo of two people, looking very unsettled but “smiling” for the camera. It was the first and last photo I took of the locals- the questions in their faces are tangible, as if the picture itself is screaming, “What the hell does this Gringa want?” I felt ashamed, dirty, for having taken it and intruding into these people’s lives, and couldn’t stand the way they had looked at me- the questionin their eyes.

Afterwards, I was on a fishing dock (not the miles long one for cruise ships) and taking photos of the birds and the catches that day. Nearby, a group of young boys started mocking me in Spanish. I got the gist of what they were saying- they thought I was a dumb tourist walking around taking photos of the “exotic” pelicans and crabs. At first I started to feel upset- Why did everyone seem to think I was just some dumb tourist when I was trying to learn about their town? But later, upon reflection, I realized that those boys (apart from simply being young boys), were in a way resisting the changes taking place in their town in the only way young boys can: by making fun of me, the intruder. I felt like I wasn’t welcome, until of course, I went to open my wallet and get lunch or souvenir. I left with much to think about.

The next time I went back, the town was completely and utterly different. Parked at the end of the long wharf was the Carnival Elation, an 855 foot, 70,000 ton ship with a capacity of 2,052 passengers. The main boardwalk was jam packed with vendors selling all

sorts of knick-knacks, beachwear, hair braiding, and services- there were even tables set up where a lady was giving massages on the beach. Stands boasted signs in English “Everything a Dollar!” and vendors switched languages (“You like?”) as soon as I approached. The town gave the air of a party, and everyone, tourist and locals alike, seemed to be laughing, smiling, and loving life. Yet, at the same time, I noticed that behind the smiling faces, there was a lot of eye rolling going on from both ends- The tourists annoyed at the vendors’ hawking, the vendors annoyed that the tourists weren’t buying. As I walked along the beach, two women approached me and asked me in Spanish if I spoke French or English, and where I was from. I told them I could speak either- it turned out they were from Quebec and Iowa and asked if I would take a photo for them. They told me they wouldn’t ask any Mexicans to do it- they said they had been robbed earlier in the morning and now don’t trust the locals (although how they know it was a local who robbed them I don’t know). “Did they steal anything of value?” I asked. “Yeah, our wallets along with everything in them,”she replied. It became clear that underneath the buzzing hubbub and activity, behind the image of the happy tourists (happy to be on vacation and experiencing another culture, or at least a change of scenery) and the happy local (happy to make a buck and show off his town), was a deep tension and uneasiness between the two. You can see this in some of the aforementioned cruise reviews as well.

At a later date

I went back with a Yucatecan friend from Merida, and as we sat on the beach drinking beers and watching the tourists he asked, “¿Por qué los estadounidenses piensan que todo el mundo habla Inglés?” (Note he didn’t say Americans- he always gets mad when I refer to the people from the States as Americans as America is not limited to the US [he’s got me there]). He went on to say how annoying he found it that the tourists from the States seemed surprise when they got off the boat that not everyone spoke English. I didn’t really have an answer for his question, except that you can’t judge an entire country but a few of its tourists. That same day, as I was waiting outside the bathrooms for my friend, I noticed two blonde girls in bikinis and large bug eyed sunglasses walked by. They happened to be looking for the bathrooms, and asked me if I knew where they were. I scrunched up my face and wrinkled my brow, as if I didn’t understand English. “DOWNDAY EYSTA EL BANYO?” the one asked me, this time in Spanish, and practically shouting, as if perhaps I was not only dumb, but deaf. I told them, in perfect Spanish, where they needed to go, who they needed to pay, and where they could find toilet paper as there was none in

the stalls. “GRASSYASS!” they both shouted (yes, shouted) at me as they, waving, walked in the direction that I had pointed to. Watching them leave, I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed.

I hate to say but, I’m sure I watched them go with the same look on my face that I myself had been a victim of the first time I had come. I had been looked at like a dumb tourist, had experienced the tension firsthand my first visit. And I had seen, as an observer, the tourist gaze towards the town and its peoples, and the complex gaze given back. I had moved from tourist to observer to participator as I, looking at the bikini clad blondes walk away, found myself (in a small sense) on the other side of the fence. The tourist-local relationship here is complex- that’s not to say it isn’t a complex relation everywhere in the world, because it is. However, the dynamics are totally different between, say a tourist and a local in Paris, Hong Kong, or even Cozumel than they are in Progreso. In defense of those American girls, they did take the time to learn a few phrases (however poorly pronounced in Spanish), and it’s not fair that a people, any people, be punished for not knowing a foreign language. On the other side of the coin, the tourists seem to be surprised/dismayed that Progreso isn’t more like Cozumel, and there is a sense of unwillingness on both sides to understand where the other side is coming from.

Many of the reviews seemed to agree that Progreso, love it or hate it, was still new to the cruise ship/port town game, and that things would probably be entirely different in a few years. I’m not so sure I agree- the lure of Uxmal and Chitchen, and for the shoppers, the Malls of Merida, combined with the poor winds and nature of the ultimate stop in Cozumel might continue to entice the tourists out of the city, even if major beach, land, or commercial development continues (as they will, and which have already underway, though only making a slight difference in the number of tourists who stay). Will Progreso slowly evolve into the next Playa del Carmen or Cancun? I think not. I am certain, however, that whether or not the majority stay in the town or leave for excursions, the tourists will continue to come, and it will be interesting to see how these interactions play out.