Brrr, well, if there’s one word to describe Chiapas (the state I’m now in) it’s chilly, and I’m writing this sat on the bed in my hotel room with all the spare blankets laid over my knees like a little old granny. I think it’s to do with the altitude, this sudden drop in temperature (I noticed when my bus arrived here in San Cristobal yesterday morning we were literally driving through the low hanging clouds), and I might have to go and buy myself one of the many woolly ponchos and woolly hats that are on sale at the markets here. It's hard to believe that this time last week I was sweltering in Puerto Escondido…
In spite of the cold, though, I’m taking a liking to San Cristobal, and walking around the cobbled streets last night after dark kind of reminded me of autumnal evenings back home. Plus, I had a priceless day here today, unexpectedly watching a bunch of kids taking part in a ‘Revolution Day’ parade. I then visited two local Mayan villages where I was able to catch a glimpse of the colourful simple indigenous life that goes on in these parts of Mexico where many things remain pretty much pre-Hispanic.
So, I arrived here yesterday morning after another overnight coach-journey that was far from conducive to a good night’s kip. I think I’m just going to have to see coach journeys as the forfeit I pay for all the fun I will otherwise be having on my trip – a kind of purgatory… When chatting on Skype with my brother last night I likened my most recent journey to spending 11 hours in a strange mystical half-time state on a roller-coaster in a darkened deep-freeze! My Mum thankfully says she might have some spare Diazepams she can leave me before we part company again – so I think I’ll take her up on that and neck a couple before my next all-nighter on Mexican public transport.
Anyway, once I arrived, I rattled my wheel-ly back-pack over the cobbled streets of San Cristobal (which is actually a pretty small place) until I found the ‘Posada Real De Chiapas’ – the place my parents had booked up in terms of accommodation, andd where they were due to meet with me later in the day. I took my stuff up to my room and took great pleasure in having a long hot shower (without other travellers’ pubes or toenail clippings down the plughole - lovely!). Then, I have to say I pretty much spent the rest of the day just watching telly in the warmth, reading and dozing (knowing that I have so much time ahead of me to travel, I’m letting myself off the hook a bit in terms of chasing round and trying to see and do everything – sometimes rest and recuperation are just as important). Mum and Dad arrived here at about 5.00pm, a bit frazzled after some complications with their journey. However, all was put right in true Runchman style with a brandy and ‘Lift’ appleade (we couldn’t find ginger ale, so that was the best alternative) in the hotel room, as we sat recounting our respective adventures since Acapulco. Mum and I were so frozen that we had to huddle under a makeshift poncho formed out of the decorative Mayan bedspread!
We just dined in the hotel last night (actually a great choice as the food was really authentic and we were extremely well looked after) and this allowed us to get the early night and decent sleep that I think we all so badly needed. Then, refreshed this morning, we signed up for a trip around the local Mayan villages of Chamula and Zinacantan. We hopped into a mini-bus with a few other tourists and our guide and driver, Alberto, who steered us around some bumpy and narrow roads before coming to a sudden and unavoidable standstill outside what appeared to be a primary school. The traffic was something of a gridlock and it was clear that we weren’t going anywhere fast. The reason? Well, all around us were ‘mini revolutionaries’ – the loveliest little Mexican children kitted out in fancy dress, taking over the whole street as they did a procession to mark ‘Revolution Day’.
I’ve come to realise by now that Mexicans are never ones to miss the opportunity for a fiesta or celebration (saints’ days and random historical events seem to have been commemorated pretty much every week since I arrived here), and in Chiapas, tribute to Emilio Zapata (a key revolutionary who was from this part of Mexico) is clearly quite a big deal. Well, it seemed to have brought the kindergarten kids out on the streets, in their meticulously crafted outfits, practising well-choreographed moves in front of proud parents and grandparents, and gently goading teachers. I think I’ve written this before, but Mexican schoolchildren are, at least from what I’ve seen, so well-behaved and endearingly earnest (but at the same time, happy and confident). It was therefore one of the definite highlights of my trip so far just to get out of the mini-bus and watch all this unfold, especially with there being absolutely nothing else we could do about the delay. Eventually, when the parade moved on, and we were ushered back into the mini-bus, I think Mum, Dad and I were quite sorry to have to be dragged away from the little bambinos. They seemed to be having a whale of a time and this just carried up into the atmosphere, captivating us as we watched.
In terms of people-watching and cultural observation, though, the day was only to get better. Our tour took us first of all to Chamutal, a Mayan village where people still generally speak the indigenous language, Tzotzil, and adhere to time-honoured Mayan beliefs that the Spanish conquistadors couldn’t quite quash. It was a shame that we weren't really allowed to take any pictures of the villagers (many of whom still think that camera flashes take away their soul) as they were a fascinating sight in their long furry robes (men wore cloaks and women skirts made out of a funny furry material like that which many of my childhood pencil cases were made out of!). They had fine dark features and were generally quite small and bird-like in stature, and, again, all around the village there were more cute children playing. It was hard to focus on what Alberto our guide was telling us when 3 kids who I imagine were siblings (aged between about 3 and 7 I’d guess) were laughing away with the purest kind of joy as they slid down a nearby mound of rubble in a plastic bathtub! Without wanting to sound like a real oldie pining for days gone by, it was so wonderful to watch kids playing innocently and enthusiastically just with the things they could find around them as opposed to computer games or expensive toys. As with the children in the parade earlier, they seemed to be absolutely transported with happiness and amusement, lost in their simple games.
In spite of the distraction of this contented scene, I did manage to keep half an ear open to what Alberto was saying about Mayan culture. A lot was revealed about a faith that combines Catholicism with ancient pre-Hispanic religion, and we learned, for example, that the cross was a pre-Christian symbol for the Mayas who used it to symbolise the bridge between heaven and earth. On a slightly more interesting note, we also learned that in church Mayans use a lot of Coke and other fizzy drinks to induce burping – as this is meant to release evil spirits! We saw this with our very own eyes when we visited Chamula’s church and saw rows upon rows of bottles of sugary pop alongside candles and other offerings (I had heard that Mexicans are the biggest consumers of Coke in the world, but I hadn’t realised until now that there was a spiritual reason!).
The market in Chamula was awash with colour (I was especially taken with all the bright wool that they sell for weaving their vivid clothing) and we also observed the interesting spectacle of women queuing up for their Social Security cheques in the town square (something a bit like ‘Harts for Mexico’ for those of you who know about my previous work with similar families in Haringey!). This was before moving on to the next small village of Zincantan. The main focus here was visiting a traditional home where women weave and make tortillas (which we sampled as tacos with pungent village cheese and ground pumpkin leaf powder). Women from Zincantan wear a traditional kind of shawl which is turquoise and purple in colour, with a floral pattern and shiny silver thread woven in – very attractive and quite contemporary looking (in spite of being very long-established). I could have been tempted to buy one – they were a perfect colour match for a lot of stuff I already have in my wardrobe, as the picture probably shows! However, 6 months in sunnier climes still stretch ahead of me so I resisted. They were pretty heavy and bulky...
So, we packed a lot into today, and I was impressed with the way in which the tour seemed to manage to give us real insight into village life without being too touristy, tacky or culturally invasive (sometimes these things can feel a bit like a circus). Now, after a bit of a rest, I think we’re going to wrap up warm again and head out to find something good for dinner. I’m not so concerned about the food, and think the main deciding factor of where we go will be warmth. I could actually really do with a nice pub meal now somewhere with a log fire (ah, maybe fish and chips and mushy peas with a real pint in a pint glass minus salt and lime!). I’m kind of doubting that will be possible, but we’ll see what we can find….
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