Big in Chiapas.

My twelve and a half hour chicken bus journey high into the mountains was overtly uneventful, though I surprisingly slept for most of the way - as I mentioned so many times before, trouble sleeping on moving vehicles. The route was on a narrow road with sheer drops on one side into misty ravines, the driver careened around the corners that at various times I thought that we would go hurtling over the edge! I sat white knuckled and saucer eyed as the other indigenous passengers stared into space with bored apathy. Soon the road flattened out and I was smoothed into relaxation by my pint of aguardiente I casually sipped through the mountainous roller coaster ride.
I am now in San Cristobal De Las Casas, a small city located in the mountains in the state of Chiapas. Maybe, more famously known for the freedom fighting Zapatista group who reside in the mountains in this area. Luckily for me, my trip here has been quiet from the meddling of pesky revolutionaries, and from what I have heard the group has been fairly quiet of late. The Zapatistas are fighting for the freedom of Chiapas, which from what I have seen is a very different Mexico than other places I have trotted - this due to the huge population of indigenous people in the mountains. In a way I don’t blame them. Anywhere in the world, totalitarian oppression sucks.
San Cristobal is beautiful, upon arrival, I noticed how much colder it was, being up in the mountains is quite refreshing after the heavily polluted cities of Mexico I have so far experienced. Walked about a mile from the bus station to the centre of town - the Zocalo - which is a town square, plaza - every city seems to have one. I sat down and had a coffee in a peaceful sidewalk café and people watched a bit. As the sun swung in that bright sky, I knew I needed to get up off my rusty dusty and find a cheap room. I walked around the nearby streets and found one - very basic, but friendly and clean, the family lives downstairs and rent out the rooms upstairs. The withered old matron who is the owner practices Mayan Medicine and is a typical "Senora" - plaits in her hair, dark wrinkled skin and bossy.
Walked around the city, exploring the cathedral, the Santo Domingo church and walking around the handicrafts market in which a lot of indigenous women from the surrounding villages come to and sell their beautiful, colorful wares. Think baskets, blankets, weaving - such stunning items.
From there, left the historic streets of San Cristobal and walked into the area where many of the locals reside. There was the standard big local market - selling fruits, veggies, pirate CD’s and the like, there were taco stands and juice stands. The local school had just kicked out and so the place was heaving with people, I walked on through the streets and up to the very interesting museum of Mayan medicine.
The Mayan’s are indigenous people, whose history goes back before time BC. Today in some of the villages practices are still as traditional as they were back then. The museum was excellent, and really explained to me the way the Mayan population prefer to use herbal remedies rather than visit the local doctor, it also went into detail on pregnancy and childbirth which was fascinating, so much so that things are still used now so they must work. I even had the pleasure of watching a video of a local Indian giving birth the traditional way - on her knees, with the midwife massaging her tummy, she in the arms of her husband - yuck!
Today I took a tour (the safest way to do it in these parts I am afraid to hear) and spent the morning visiting two Mayan villages in the mountains outside of San Cristobal. In fairness, our guide was fantastic, and explained the traditions and fiestas of these people, he told us about education, their religions etc etc. It was all very interesting and in one of the villages San Juan Chamula, I were able to visit the church. There religion is very closely linked with the Catholic religion that dominates this part of the world, but also mixed with Mayan which made it all the more interesting. The church floor was covered in pine needles, and as I had learned yesterday in the museum they’d burn different colored candles for different reasons and different saints or gods. The brujas carry eggs in bags that they would hold and rub over the person they are praying for, they drink the local drink POSH, and soft drinks - all for different reasons. This church has become known as the Coca Cola Church! For the reason being that as part of their rituals they use soft drinks, this is usually coca cola, but can be any soft drink containing sugar during these arcane proceedings. I witnessed a family sacrifice a chicken, which is still today a practiced ritual. Amazing.
I took the opportunity to walk around the village and the local market (unfortunately I could not take photos, these people like many others I have encountered around the world believe that by having their photo taken their soul/spirit is taken), so postcards will have to do in this case. They all wore the traditional dress of their village which was always colorful and stunning.
Visited the second village of Zintantulan (excuse spelling), there I saw a Mayan cemetery and visited a local weavers house. These kind and happy people prepared the most delicious tacos and I tasted the local firewater POSH. Brutal! At least they allowed me to take photos of them, as the guide explained the traditions, languages and culture of this particular village.
Headed back to hostel. San Crisobal is a bit of a strange place...full of western style shops, internet cafes and coffee shops. Very cute little buildings though...and quite a contrast with its perfectly straight roads, not unlike the American grid system. Hung around in the hostel....they were just lighting a barbeque when it started to rain...and man did it rain. The locals were gob smacked when it started to hailstone! It didn’t stop, but the locals managed to build a makeshift barbeque under shelter and rescue their charcoal, before the rain put it out. So I watched them cooking huge piles of thin cut steak and eating their way through a truck full of tortillas! They even gave me one and it was yummy! Had a beer then decided to go and find food.
I want to visit the stalls that have been set up in the Zocalo for a local fiesta weather permitting, and then tomorrow we shall head over to the ruins of Palenque - really looking forward to those ruins and the ones in Guatemala.
Addition: Was walking through the Zocalo after the downpour and met three local guys that are attending this evenings fiesta in the Zocalo. Juan, Peter, and Marcos. They are students and Zapatistan supporters - they think my meandering is quite funny. Will write a full report on the party and my new friends manana…