More from Around San Cristobal

Here are more things that I found around San Cristobal de las Casas:

This is the most wonderful idea I have every stumbled across. Fill a corridor with vendors selling sweets. However, the sweets brought the bees. Throughout the week I would walk down the corridor for an adrenaline rush as hundreds of bees wasped back and forth across my path. A Mexican Sweet Tooth
La Iglesia de San Domingo
Surprise! Christmas in July with my hot chocolate and pan dulce!

Teopisca, Chiapas

I decided to journey to Teopisca, Chiapas. Here, I found chickens on a roof and a church on a hill. There were lots of steps, but eventually I made it to the top with breath-taking views of the valley below.

Why do I love to take pictures of churches? You ask. I don't really have a preference to photograph churches, but as it happens, Catholicism plays a very large part in the Mexican life. A town's church is in the center plaza. All festivals happen here, near the church. I walk to churches because aside from holding 5-star real estate throughout the town, they usually are also the most interesting building for miles around.

Tenejapa, Chiapas

Taking a taxi out of town, we visit another indigenous village for the day. I give you, Tenejapa, the town of amazing doors and windows!

Chamula, Chiapas

Chiapas is a region of revolution and resistance. Around San Cristobal, there are many fully indigenous villages that have fought to maintain their cultural identity. While tourists and foreigners - Guera and Mexican alike- are invited to view church services and buy indigenous handicrafts, there are no hotels in the villages and at the end of the day, foreigners are expected to leave.

Chamula is a fully indigenous village of the Chamula people. This town is know for its large church, where the Chamula people have created a Catholicism with an indigenous twist. While I couldn't take pictures of the inside of the church, I will try my best to paint you a picture with words.

The inside of this church is outside of time. I entered the church in what seemed like complete darkness. While my eyes adjusted to the new light, my feet began moving acrossed a soft and springy surface. White tile was covered in mounds and mounds of dried out pine needles. Fully adjusted, my eyes are met with the flickering light of thousands upon thousands of candles. The candles fill tables in front of the saints. They stand upright on the ground in rows of four or five nearly 15 candles deep. Should my eyes deceive me, I could image the candles suspended in air, flickering with the movement of the people. The entirity of the church, closed off from the outside world, is lit solely by the light of the candles.

In front of the rows of candles, whole families sit around an aged patriarch. This can either be the grandmother or grandfather (great-grandmother and great-grandfather?). As the candles burn and the children fidget, the wisened leader of the family rocks back and forth, chanting a prayer in a native tongue that sounds magical. The church is filled with this chanted prayer starting and ending, weaving in an out of all the prayers like a musical tapestry, completely illumined by candle light. The families all wear their indigenous dress of wooly looking skirts and panchos over and around bright, multicolored silken shirts.

This church is also known for sacrificing animals. One family invites my friends and I near to their candles and prayer to explain the ceremony to us. A small child holds a chicken with bound legs. The child has been very sick for 15 days and the family has gathered to pray for the health of the child. The elder chants and rocks back and forth for several minutes. Finally, the chicken is brought to the elder, the neck is broken, and the body of the chicken is signed in a cross over the child several times. The candles are then put out with Coca-cola and the elder's prayer is accompanied by the hiss and pop of burning Coca-cola. Before leaving, the family drinks the remaining cola.

Suddenly, I notice chickens and Coca-cola throughout the sanctuary and imagine that this same ritual is performed again and again, day and night. We finally leave the church, eyes shocked by daylight and returned abruptly to current time. Perhaps I will return to see how a Mass is performed in this indigenous world.

Grutas de Rancho Nuevo

Another adventure takes us away from the city and into caves- or the Grutas at Rancho Nuevo.

Stalactites drip from the ceiling onto stalagmites waiting on the floor. A cement path with unlabeled and random steps leads the explorer back to the end of the cave, where we find a forbidden step. We wanted to explore a little further, but we couldn't find the step that was forbidden. Not wanting Mexican police to pop out of the surrounding walls and cart us away to a Mexican jail for a night, we decided to end our adventure en grutas.

There were large trees, lots of grass, and a Pepsi sponsored tent covering a portable church, should you be suddenly striken with an awareness of your own mortality and need to petition the Lady of Guadelupe. There were swings made of metal that pinched your hands, corn on the cob, and a very, very large cement slide. The bottom of the slide was littered with plastic bottles and trash, which were used by the more daring to increase velocity while riding down cement slide. A child cracked his shin against the cement and started crying. Father took baby down the slide while worrying mother turning away with fear.

We ate corn-on-the-cob(elotes), took pictures with the trees, and frollicked in the fields of green mystery and magic. All in all, it was a successful adventure for Holly's birthday. Were I not crammed into the back of a Cambi with my head bumping against a metal bar for the duration of our trip home, I would have curled up in the back seat and slept like a child.

Holly´s Birthday Surprises

To celebrate one of my friend´s birthday, other friend and I decide to surprise her with American comforts such as mimosas, french toast, and papaya... alright, the papaya was a little Mexican flare thrown in so we wouldn´t completely forget our current location, San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, after drinking a pitcher full of mimosa.

We woke up early to start preparing breakfast and watch after her one year old daughter, Violet. This was to be Holly´s day to sleep in. Surprise number one on Holly´s Birthday: There is no water. Lucky for us, it has been storming for the last three days and a bucket happened to be turned right-side up durning the whole of it. We have a bucket of rain water to wash the dishes before preparing our breakfast. We get started.

Throughout the preparation, Violet is being unusually grumpy. Violet is my second favorite child (second only to my nephew) and usually she is all cuddles and cooings in the morning. This morning, she has nearly thrown herself off the sofa twice and nearly smashed her face into the tile floor in a fit of rage. Anyone that tries to intercede on her behalf is met with very small fists wailing for hair, ears or face. Very sad looking chickens and dog have lost their calming appeal. Something is desperately wrong. Surprise number two of Holly´s Birthday: Violet is very, very sick.

I finish the french toast, Emily gets everything ready on the table, and we sit down to enjoy the breakfast. It is beautiful for our lack of running water and I am proud of our ability to cope in nearly third world conditions. Unfortunately, the water is now completely out, all our dishes are covered in egg, cream, or papaya, and before too long, the cockroaches will be singing happy birthday from the little kitchen among the grease and food scraps. Surprise number three on Holly´s Birthday: Perhaps it is time to venture out of San Cristobal for an overnight excursion until the water returns.

We leave the house with every intention of not returning until we have water and wander to a hospital for our miserable little Violet.

A Mexican Happy Birthday to you, Holly, with all its surprises!

Parque Ecológica Huitepec, or Our Ridiculous Walk in the Rain

In June, I decided it was a good idea to trade in the most beautiful months in Washington for the rainiest months in Mexico. The stubborn part of me wants to make this trip extend through March of next year just so I can write how glorious it is to be sunbathing on a beach in Mexico in February. Perhaps I am not so stubborn, because February feels a very long way away.

Like clockwork, the rain starts to fall between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon... unless there is a hurricane blowing in from the coast. With a hurricane, the rain relentlessly beats the earth for five days straight. This morning found us with our first sunbreak in five days, so we decided to make good on the promise of sun and head for the Parque Ecológica Huitepec outside of town. Of course, to get to the park, we first have to go into the city center, make a quick stop at the bank, make a quick stop at the internet, visit the market, eat lunch and locate the Cambi heading in the correct direction. Finally, we are dropped off outside the park around 2:00 in the afternoon with black and angry clouds rolling in over the hills we are about to climb. Another good idea is starting our hike knowing full well the angry clouds contain rain but instead deciding to believe the sunbreaks that are lulling us into the forest like sneaky little faeries. With only 2km of trails ahead, we figure we can return in minutes should our luck run out.

The trail is beautiful with bushes growing on trees growing on other trees. This is the tropical forest that I remember from my days in Costa Rica, where everything seems to be fighting everything else for survival. After a quarter mile, the trail turns into switchbacks and slippery looking wood steps. We continue our climb, glad for the exercise and thinking that a 2km loop will soon find us at the top.

We climb... and climb... and climb. The clouds have since lowered down among the trees and everything smells like water dripping on vegetation. Finally, a peal of thunder shakes the sky around us. Our rain will be accompanied with lightning and our unfortunate more than 2 km hike finds us up along the underside of the storm. With the added effect of a flash of lightning and peal of thunder, the clouds dramatically drop their tired arms and release a downpour on the earth no so far below. We, being on that earth among those trees now targeted by rapidly falling water, begin to run along the trail that has sinced flattened and hinted at return.

As luck would have it, we encounter a rest station and decide to wait out the worse of the storm. Three Belgium folk join us and we now have a very wet and cold party among the Huitepec mountains. The lightning continues to get closer to our sad little hut, startling sleeping Violet and charging the air with electricity. The rain turns to hail which returns to rain, but shows no sign of stopping. Our path becomes a river and our hut starts to leak. At some point, the lightning stops but the rain continues to fall harder. We decide to leave the hut and get the baby to a warmer and drier place, now running down the mountain trail turned stream in the pouring rain. At some point, misery leaves me and I start to laugh as I watch Holly in front of me dodge the deeper looking puddles. Emily is carrying baby Violet behind us.

Finally, after our clothes are soaked through and Emily has sacrificed her knee in a fall to protect Violet, we arrive at the entrance to the park and take shelter in the entrance station. Water is dripping from every point of our bodies; mud now covers the lower half of our legs. In one last joke played on us, the rain stops, clouds break, and our sneaky little sun faeries return in a brillant display dancing off the wet surfaces of... well, everything. Thus concludes our ridiculous walk in the rain.

Plants growing on trees that grow on other trees.
Our path among wood nymphs and faeries.Our path, now turned small stream.

Optimistic and hoping the rain will stop, while feeling cold and hungry.

Coming Home for One Month

"Rustic Home in the Country" the ad claims from a bulletin board near the town center. Up to this point, we had very little luck finding a house with room to fit up to 5 people and a baby... with conditions clean enough to allow said baby to crawl and eat dirt... with furniture. If you have the desire, you can pack all your belongings into a moving truck and acquire an immaculate and large house in a beautiful neighborhood of San Cristobal de las Casas for about $230 US per month. Unfortunately, our possessions fill three backpacks and fun is not defined by living in a large, empty house.

Our adventure of house hunting continued as we walked through the town looking for signs claiming "Se Renta - amueblas." After a full days search and still no place to sleep for the night, we decide to try the rustic home in the country.

At first, the place looked nice. It was a little rustic with stone walls and a slight smell of mildew and urine, but the windows closed out the bugs, we had a stove in the kitchen and running water. The house even came with a very sad looking chicken family and a very skinny dog. I was most excited about the promise of staying somewhere for a month for a total of $35 US.

As all house rentals go, you start to notice the flaws of the establishment within the first several days of moving in. Our list continues to grow each day with problems I would never considered possible in the states. For example, our shower plugs into the power outlet in the bathroom to take the chill out of our cold water ("Agua Caliente," ad claims). Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn´t, but don´t touch the metal knobs with wet hands or you may get a bit of a shock. Another fun discovery is that whether it is raining or not outside, water drips from our cement ceiling onto the less than attractive couches. Friend from El Salvador claims this is a bad sign for the structure of the building and at anytime we can expect the ceiling to collapse of the backside of the house. Sweet, my bedroom is at the front. I think, and avoid reading on the couches. The windows close and keep the bugs out but the mildew and dampness in. When we open the doors to dry the place out, sad looking chicken family and dog pay us visits. We notice our visitors to the "WOO WOO" and pointing of our one year old doorman. The mattresses are not so clean and falling asleep at night risks your life to the appetite of bedbugs. The running water stops and we are left washing dishes to gathered rain water.

However, rather than complain, I see this as a wonderful opportunity to adapt to adverse situations and encourage my friends to do the same. The lights burn out. Great! We will dry out the air with our candle light. Bedbugs are eating me alive at night. I´ll pitch my tent on top of the mattress and sleep in my sleeping bag. There is no warm water in the shower. I´ll learn to shower in negative two minutes occuring every three or more days. The running water stops. Let´s build our skills in water conservation; or, seems like a great time to take an overnight excursion away from the house until it starts again. I notice the enthusiasm of my friends waning, but you really can´t beat the price, so I continue my encouragement. I have also been in Mexico for one month longer than my friends and have adopted the third world attitude that if something adverse happens, there really is not much you can do about it.

With that said, the water is back on, the sun has decided to shine and we are still only paying $100 US per month to gain perspective on the conditions whole Mexican families live with their whole lives. I couldn´t be happier as I look down at the city from my window view, sipping hot chocolate cooked over a gas stove and listening to my friends cook and talk in the next room. My last bout of optimism tells me that it is a good thing community is larger than a rustic country house.

A room with a view.
Rustic kitchen, sometimes with running water.
Sad looking chickens.
Sad looking dog.

The Arrival of Friends

Around the middle of July, my paths joined with friends from Hawaii/Seattle, friend from El Salvador, and friend from Columbia. Welcome friends, goodbye Spanish (but only for a little while, I hope).

Rather than jumping from city to city every other day, my trip has morphed into stability in a rustic three bedroom house, shopping adventures in and around town, teaching a toddler how to walk and talk, and brainstorming variety into meals with the same five ingredients (tomato, squash, cheese, cucumber, avocado). However settled this may seem, our lives still contain much adventure.

Day One: Tequila, salt and lime. Dulces Sueños- Sweet Dreams.


Day Two: Aggressive children hold baby hostage forcing us to buy macrame bracelets and small clay animals.


Day Three: Baby learns to walk with encouragement from father.


Day Four: We acquire a house in the country and begin nesting.

Walk About #1

Finding myself with free time and a whole city to explore, I started off for a walk about around San Cristobal.


Welcome to San Cristobal, from the top of many, many stairs. Shortly after this photo, I was called over by a viejo loco and listened to the life story of his hardships. I didn´t understand anything and apologized for leaving all my money with my esposo. I promptly left.


I´m going to let you come up with a caption for this picture.


I climbed a lot more stairs and saw a rainbow.


Here is proof that I am in Mexico, still alive and not fully overcome by bacteria.


At the top of some steps, I found a Mexican flag. If I knew the Mexican national anthem, I would sing it here.


Looking through a church toward one of many walking streets.


Colonial building near the main plaza.