Ever since I read Peter Moore’s “The Revenge of Montezuma; Travels around Central America with the girl next door”, I became fascinated with San Cristobal and knew I had to visit this town in Mexico.
Famed for its relaxed, bohemian and artsy vibe, I knew I hit the right spot the minute I arrived in this charming colonial town up in the cold mountains. At 2163m, you can feel the cold air blanket wrap deadly around you the minute the sun sets or gets covered by a heavy cloud. Every traveler I met before always mentions firstly that it is very cold, before bringing up the other good points of this town. However, I had already read from Peter Moore about the “unique” religious practices of the Chamulans and that is the real reason for my earnest visit. That, and apart from the unspoken hope that I might glimpse a view of the elusive Zapatista leader, Subcomandante Marcos. I had just missed (by a few weeks) the “touring” political party of the guerilla Zapatista group in the Chiapas region and I damn my timing for that. It would have been cooler than to see Vicente Fox doing his pathetic retaliatory campaign tour.
San Cristobal came under international media scrutiny when a previously unknown guerilla army called the Zapatistas occupied the town and other towns in Chiapas in 1994. Fighting to improve on the wretched conditions and human rights of Mexican’s indigenous people, the Zapatisitas’ intentions were to over throw the wealthy local oligarchy’s centuries hold on land, power and resources. Their charismatic leader, Subcomandante Marcos(actually a former university professor) emerged as a cult figure, perhaps considered the Mexican version of Che Guevera, except that he is still very much alive. You can find woven figurines of Subcomandante Marcos everywhere in the market stalls in San Cristobal, riding gallantly on a horse with his head covered in black disguise except for his piercing eyes.
Anxious to see the unorthodox coke-infused church of Chamulan village, I joined Raul’s daily tour group departing from the main square every morning at 9.30am. San Juan Chamula is distinctly different from the other ethnic villages around San Cristobal for a few reasons. Firstly, the men are not monogamous and can have as many wives and kids as long as he is able(unfair). Secondly, they are a fiercely independent people and have somehow managed to retain the traditional Mayan religious practices as intact as possible despite the Spanish conquest. Under the disguise of a Catholic church, one is transported into a world of mystic scents, melting colorful candles, pine needles carpets, Mayan families kneeled on the floor with their sacrificial items like live chickens or bottles of Coca-Cola and soda drinks all lined along the floor where they are kneeling unflinchingly and saints from the Catholic world boxed up in glass casings for prayer rituals. There are no pews in this temple of worship and very obviously, the unorthodox practices that are carried out within the walls of the church are frowned upon by the Catholic church and it is no wonder this church is not officially recognized by them. To pray for different wants or needs, one needs to prepare different types of coloured and quantity of candles for each purpose. I vaguely remembered that if you are praying for recovery of a sickness, you need to burn 13 small white candles…almost akin to a Catholic way of seeking for forgiveness after a confession session(say 3xOur Fathers and 1xHail Mary…). No photography is allowed in this church since the locals believe that it will snatch away their souls and I think you might be clobbered to death if you can’t resist and took a snap. I’m just kidding. But photography is really forbidden.
The richest families in this village of 3000 inhabitants are distributors of Coca-Cola and the second wealthiest are the distributors of Pepsi-Cola. You can really tell their wealth by the lavish houses they have built for themselves and their extended families(remember polygamous). I was so excited when I saw the Coca-Cola truck driving in front of my van and had to whip out my camera…(it is rather silly if I am anywhere else in the world but here in Chamulan, it is almost a spiritual vehicle in my opinion!). How Coca-Cola came to be woven so intricately into these ancient rituals lies in the effervescent nature of the drink. In the past, they used to consume fermented alcohol during the rituals which, in turn, will make them burp. A sign that the toxins have been purged from their bodies. Burping is good here. As time evolved, some smart Coca-Cola executive must have seen this as a “sign” for invasion into the religious practices and at a really low cost offered specially to the Chamulans, the gassy drink giant integrated into the Chamulans’ lives seamlessly. Coca-Cola definitely left a legacy behind in Mexico.
The next village we visited is the strictly monogamous Catholic Zinacantan Village. Cultivating flowers is the main activity of this village and the women mainly weave intricate embroidery pieces and sell them at home to supplement their own income. We visited a local family and the mistress of the house prepared some fresh tacos for us sprinkled with some sugared powder for a light dessert snack. We saw some young girls with their thick black hair walking towards a small water station and started washing their hair right there. No shampoo, no shower heads, just simply wetting and patting of the hair and off they go in the sun to dry it. Hmmm…Head and Shoulders might have a potential consumer market here…
Na Bolom is a 19th century house owned by the enigmatic Swiss anthropologist and photographer Trudy Blom and her Danish archeologist husband Frans Blom which was converted into a museum and institute for the study and preservation of the Chiapas indigenous cultures. The house is full of black and white photographs of the mysterious Lacandon Mayan people, archeological and anthropological relics and books. It boasts of the largest collection of Mayan books in their library, of which the library’s fireplace is the exact location where a famous shot of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera were taken. The Lacandons are one of the most scary and mysterious looking of the Mayan groups I have seen so far. The men, women and children all sport long straggly hair, with short bangs across their forehead and wearing a long white tunic covering their knees. My first impression of these jungle people are that they have escaped from the psychiatric hospital…they look so wild and mad! Of course I didn’t know who were these people then. Na Bolom helped me to understand this unique group of mayans better after my visit. Either the Northern Lacandons sport the bangs or the Southern ones don’t, but that is how you can tell the difference between both groups. Trudy Blom spent almost 40 decades of her life dedicated to preserving the Lacandon’s culture and existence, documenting and photographing them from young to old, and from becoming strangers to becoming part of the family. If I had known about the Lacandons earlier, I would have opted to extend my stay in Palenque to visit the Lacandon jungle, combined with a visit to the intriguing ancient Mayan cities of Bonampak and Yaxchilan.
San Cristobal is a very affordable city and one can either pamper oneself to stay in a very nice hotel room with private bathroom and cable for only US$10. I paid the same amount to stay in an 8-person dorm in Mexico City so… Mayambe Restaurant is one of the top 10 restaurants to visit in Mexico and you can’t go wrong with any food order here in this Sikh-owned restaurant.
Leaving San Cristobal spells the end of my Latin American trip over the course of 4 months and to say I was emotional was an understatement. I was wrecked! However, all good things must come to an end so we road warriors have to soldier on in our journey across the world in our search for more adventure.
Hasta luego, Mexico!
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