“Lobsters are the groupers of the shrimp world” is the dullest thing I’ve heard tonight.
Here we are
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Moby enters Mexico
A Chiapas Road Trip
San Cristobal is a desirable place from the viewpoint of an expat. It has exceptional weather, a very low cost of living, gorgeous scenery, and it’s a 60-minute taxi ride from an airport and flights that will have you in Mexico City in about an hour.
However, unlike other cities in Mexico like San Miguel de Allende, Puerto Vallarta, and Playa del Carmen there is a distinct lack of an expat presence. That’s not to say there aren’t expats here as there most certainly are, but there is no real, cohesive expat community.
On one hand that’s a good thing. There is no us versus them mentality among the locals (as much as some might argue against that, I’ve seen it as a very real thing) but there is also no Facebook page where I can ask about things like hairstylists that can do blonde highlights or who is the best English speaking dentist and get immediate answers.
During our ten months here I can count the friends we’ve made on one hand. Two of these people were introduced to me via a mutual Facebook friend. Tom and Maya were living in Campeche and wanted to explore an area that wasn’t so damn hot. They arrived with the hope of purchasing property, and at that time Will and I were seriously considering becoming permanent residents of Mexico.
My how times have changed.
We bought a truck and will leave in August and Tom and Maya are leaving for Asia at the end of the month. This past weekend we all piled into a rented Jeep Patriot and took off for a weekend road trip through Chiapas, and these are the shenanigans we got up to.
Embarrassing Disclaimer: Will and I have been here for nine months and have explored very little of the state of Chiapas.
Cascadas el Chiflón
Located near the city of Comitan and about 70 kilometers from San Cristobal are the stunning waterfalls called Cascadas el Chiflon. Chiapas is teeming with waterfalls but most visitors flock to Agua Azul, as it’s closer to one of the other Chiapan hotspots, Palenque.
As we left San Cristobal behind I was delighted to be reminded of what I already know; we live in an alpine forest. Towering pines crowded toward the edge of the road, the traffic was light, and if it hadn’t been for the topes (Spanish for “Slow down or I’ll fuck your car up”) we would have made it to our hotel in an hour.
Regardless, when we did arrive it was to find a quaint little collection of souvenir booths, a row of modest yet comfortable rooms, a restaurant, and the sound of the rushing river in the background. As the light was beginning to fall we dropped our bags, took a short stroll along the river trail, hit the restaurant, then went to bed with the soothing sound of the river directly outside the window.
Unfortunately, I was so soothed that I slept until almost 9am and missed the morning hike to the top of the series of falls. Therefore, we mostly rely on Will’s photos for this portion of the series, because after breakfast we were back on the road.
Where we stayed: Cabanas at Cascadas el Chiflon. At 400 pesos per night, these rooms directly on the river can’t be beat.
Lagos Montebellos
Nudging the border with Guatemala this series of 59 lakes was the first designated national park in Chiapas and is now a UNESCO biosphere reserve. As we started the three-hour drive from Comitan we passed through grassy flatlands with almost nothing and no one in sight, until we spied the cemetery on the side of the road.
We stopped for a bit and trudged through the dusty grass to see the tiny cemetery, and many of the graves were simple concrete slabs with names and dates etched in with a stick. I imagined that the families of the deceased made a careful decision as to which member had the best stick handwriting.
The grassland turned to pine forest almost immediately, and when we left the highway to enter the national park the climate changed dramatically. The temperatures dropped and the view outside the car window was equal parts Oregon and Panama, as towering pines were battling with bromeliads and the swirling mist conquered everything.
The gray skies obscured the brilliant blues that these lakes are known for, but as we bumped along the gravel road to our hotel for the night, shivering in the shorts I thought we’d need, I was still enchanted. As I mentioned before, if I hadn’t known better I’d have thought we were in Oregon.
Our hotel, which was basically a series of cabins on the lakeshore, was hosting a large group and as the manager led us to our cabins it was hard not to think that they’d been built overnight. The earth was still torn up around them, the boards and slats were shiny and new, and newly-interred plants sagged listlessly in front. It was as if someone said, “Oh shit. We have four people with reservations and nowhere to put them. Quick! Build some cabins!”
The lake was beautiful and the area surrounding it was quiet with a number of small restaurants serving comida tipica. It was a lovely evening, but we had one more stop on our road trip and Sunday’s drive was the long one.
Where we stayed: Ecolodge & Villas Tzicao. For roughly 50 USD per night including breakfast, this was a fine place to enjoy the lake.
The Ruins at Tonina
To close the road trip circle our final stop was at the lesser known ruins of Tonina. Chiapas is packed with ruins but most visitors focus on Palenque. Tonina is special as it was just over five years ago that excavators realized the true scope of this ancient site when they unearthed what is said to be the largest pyramid in Mexico.
To get there we had to drive back to Comitan, then head northeast through gorgeous grasslands and more pine forests and straight through Zapatista country. The small towns that we did pass through still displayed billboards and painted walls emblazoned with the EZLN logo. Old resentments die hard here and if you want to know more I’ll recommend the book “Bordering on Chaos” to anyone who will listen.
When we got to the ruins we were pleased to find that the entrance was free and we pretty much had the place all to ourselves. There were no ropes, no guards, and climbing was encouraged. I retreated to the shade of the small cafe, but the pyramids were mesmerizing and the ancient ball court was remarkably intact. If you’re in the area and want an uncrowded and largely unspoiled ruin experience, I highly recommend Tonina.
After we piled back in the car we made the three or so hour drive back to San Cristobal without incident, which is fortunate as the locals tend to block the roads without notice and may or may not let cars, trucks, and busses though with a fee. This is happening more and more frequently here and as our time in Chiapas is winding down I wonder how the locals and the feds will resolve this as well as the many other issues that have plagued this state for over 20 years.
And it’s not a final goodbye for us. We’ll be passing back through Chiapas sometime early next year as we prepare to cross into Guatemala on our road trip to the end of the world. However, I still wonder if things will be different then, or if this almost forgotten state in Mexico will get the justice it deserves.
5 Things I’ve Learned After One Year in Mexico
The one-year anniversary of our move to Mexico came and went last week with little fanfare. I was aware that it was coming up but unlike previous years of life in other countries, this one seemed routine.
I think that’s because it is is routine. If it weren’t for Facebook prodding me with photos of my first of what would be many tacos al pastor that day would have just slipped by, like most days do. In fact, I was likely doing laundry.
I was 19 years old the first time I visited Mexico. This was during a long and crazy summer that involved a rental car from east coast to west coast, and hitchhiking back along the same route. My friend and I popped over to Ciudad Juarez for a few hours, back when a driver’s’ license was all you needed, and my teenage self had no fear.
I returned to Mexico again in 2004, this time to Matamoros. Again, it was a trip on a whim and I never ventured further than a mile from the United States and only stayed overnight. I returned with tacky souvenirs, some cheap medication, and a horrible hangover.
When we began focusing our travels on Central and South America I didn’t think much about Mexico. It always felt too mundane, too spring breaky, and just too close. To be honest, I viewed Mexico as a southern extension of the United States and I simply wasn’t interested. It didn’t help matters that my first real trip to Mexico was to Cancun in 2014. Sure, the beaches were lovely but it all felt like a Speedy Gonzales version of Texas or Florida, and as I secretly gloated in my underwhelmed feelings, I was unaware that I’d be returning in six short months, and would be here for a year.
In this year, I have learned more about Mexico than I have about any other country I’ve lived in. Of course I’ll never claim to be an expert on any country –not even my own– and Mexico is so incredibly nuanced that it sometimes feels impossible to comprehend. That being said, I have loved this past year in a quiet and thoughtful way and these are five of the things that I’ve learned about Mexico.
Mexico is Geographically Diverse
I like to think of myself as someone who is pretty knowledgeable about geography, but when it comes to Mexico I knew nothing. I don’t think I’m alone here either. I believe that many people think of Mexico’s Caribbean and Pacific coastlines and beach resorts, and the interior as some vast, uninhabited wasteland. In fact, when I tell people that we now live in San Cristobal they often ask which coast that’s on.
Mexico has 31 states (or 32, now that Distrito Federal is moving toward statehood) and seven climate zones ranging from Mediterranean to temperate. Mexico sees snow, volcanic activity, and faces hurricanes on both coastlines. The northern arid and semi-arid regions produce some of the best wine I’ve had the pleasure of tasting. From the sometimes wild waves of the Pacific to the gentle turquoise waters of the Caribbean and the mountains, deserts, lakes, rivers, and jungles in between, Mexico dazzles me with its geographic diversity, and once you get a bit more familiar with the country it’s hard not to marvel at how big it really is.
Speaking of Diversity
After all of the time I’ve spent in Spanish speaking portions of the globe I’m still a fumbling mess when it comes to Spanish. I understand most everything I hear, and I can get my needs met in most situations, but I know I sound like a toddler.
However, Spanish is just one of 69 languages recognized by the Mexican government. The other 68 are indigenous languages and there are estimates that 130 more indigenous languages have already been lost. The Mexican government implemented policies in 2002 aimed at preserving the remaining languages and the customs and cultures that accompany them.
Long before the Spanish conquered Mexico there was a thriving culture made up of many different peoples. The remains of those cultures can be found in the Mayan ruins of Tulum and Chichen Itza, the Aztec ruins in the heart of Mexico City, and that’s not all. According to the National Commission for the Development of Indigenous People just over 20% of Mexican citizens identify as indigenous. The bulk of these people live in Mexico’s southern states, and where we live in the state of Chiapas just over a third of the population is indigenous, mostly consisting of Tzeltal and Tzotzil peoples.
This level of population diversity is something completely foreign to me, and makes for a fascinating and often tumultuous regional history. Find a copy of Bordering on Chaos to learn more about Chiapas and Mexico as a whole during the fragile years of the mid-1990s.
Let’s Talk Food
Part of Mexico’s appeal is the food and it has definitely played a part in my perception of the country over the last year. Mexico’s geographic and cultural diversity play a huge role in the many types of cuisine here, and each state, region, and community has their own unique take on something spectacularly delicious.
In addition, migrants from other parts of the world have had a hand in the evolution of Mexico’s food. My favorite –tacos al pastor– is Middle Eastern in origin and is essentially pork shawarma topped with pineapple and sometimes avocado or radish. However, from the pulled pork style cochinita pibil to the delectable soup known as pozole there is much more to Mexican food than meets the eye, or nose, or taste bud.
Mexico is also launching itself directly toward the international foodie scene, and the country’s hub is Mexico City. Several of the capital’s eateries have made coveted “best of” lists and there’s no sign that Mexico’s talented young chefs are slowing down. Perhaps one of the most enticing aspects of this burgeoning aspect of Mexico’s food culture is not that it’s new, but that chefs are embracing ancient techniques and ingredients and reinventing them to reflect the kaleidoscope of Mexican heritage.
But even though five stars now grace many a restaurant kitchen in this country there’s still nothing like a street taco in Mexico. Nothing.
Safety Is Not an Issue
“Do you feel safe?”
This is by far the question I am asked most. By friends, by family, by everyone.
My answer is always a simple “yes”, but sometimes it seems futile to elaborate on that answer. People who think of Mexico as nothing but a cartel-ridden land of beheadings and disappearances won’t likely change their mind just because I say so.
But the truth is that I’ve never once felt unsafe here. We’ve ridden busses throughout half the country. We’ve walked the streets of Mexico City at night. We’ve encountered plenty of angry mobs protesting various things. Not once has anything even remotely unsavory happened. Actually, the only time I’ve ever felt fearful was when the stray dogs would chase my bike in Tulum.
That’s not to say that Mexico doesn’t have problems with safety; it absolutely does. But so does virtually every other country on earth, including the United States, and common sense is the best defense.
I’ve Learned About Privilege
Sometimes the lessons learned while traveling are sobering ones, and this is one of those times. I’ve learned a great deal about privilege during our year here, and that comes with its own heavy dose of guilt.
Mexico has income inequality just as most of the developed world does, and it’s easy to see here. The posh neighborhoods of Polanco and Condesa in Mexico City are in stark contrast to the hillside shacks in Chiapas. Our doorbell buzzes daily and the people waiting on the other side of the door, hoping to sell a bit of fruit or ask for work, fill me with so much guilt that I don’t answer anymore.
I just can’t look at these proud yet desperate faces and mumble “no, gracias” with downcast eyes any longer. I’m ashamed.
The Mexican peso has taken a tumble in the last year. While that’s great news for people like us who get paid in US dollars, it’s bad news for those who rely on the peso. Our privilege is not something I take lightly. It’s hard to explain our absurdly low cost of living without feeling horrible about knowing that the second I turn the corner on Guadalupe Street I’ll see the same old lady, barefoot, withered hand held out in the hope of a peso or two.
Privilege is a heavy cross to bear, and even being able to make that statement reeks of privilege.
We’re probably going to remain in Mexico for a little while, and we’ll likely trade the highlands of Chiapas for the cosmopolitan aspects of Mexico City. You see, the country that I had foolishly written off as too close and too mundane has unfolded for me in delightful ways. Mexico is complex and simple, gritty and polished, chaotic and serene.
And I can’t wait to learn more.
Popetacular in San Cristobal
If any of you know me personally then you’re likely fully aware of the fact that I am completely and utterly devoid of religion. I don’t believe in God, Buddha, Mohammed, or any of the other forms these deities choose to take, or their believers choose to give them.
I don’t know that I’d go as far as to call myself an atheist; I’m more just apathetic.
That being said much of my upbringing was peppered with religious experiences, usually in the form of my fanatically Mormon grandparents continuously reminding me that my filthy soul needed saving or Wednesday nights at prayer meetings that I plaintively begged my mother to be allowed to attend. The church bus would lumber its way around the country roads on which I grew up and myself and all my friends would clamber aboard and, in the dark recesses of the bus, do things that were decidedly un-Christlike.
Yeah, I had my first awkward, fumbling make-out session on the church bus.
All of this aside, I have always been repugnantly fascinated by the Catholic church. Powerful to the extent they could be considered a candidate for world domination, the Catholic church and the Vatican have always frightened me a bit.
It may have been because, in a fit of anger at my teenage self, my mom threatened to send me to a convent.
Then there’s the idea of the pope. I know very little about the pope and what he actually does, so I feel not at all qualified to form an opinion. However, this newest pope seems very different. He actually seems like he gives a shit, and while the church itself still pulls the strings, Pope Francis acts like he has scissors in his pocket and he’s not afraid to use them.
This week Pope Francis arrives in Mexico. When he paid a papal visit to the United States a few months ago I was shocked at the hordes of people who came out to see him, hoping for a touch, a wave, even mere eye contact. That was the United States, and this is Mexico. A land where Catholicism still goes toe to toe with ancient Mayan and Aztec religious practices, but a land that also has at least one church for every neighborhood.
On this visit, the pope will come to our little town of San Cristobal. When the rumors started flying a few months ago that His Holiness would pay a visit to our little, alpine town I started to wonder why. Then as more information came out it became clear; each pope has his own personal agenda and Pope Francis has a fondness for indigenous peoples and refugees.
If you know anything about Chiapas then you know that there have been tenuous ties between the people who have lived here for thousands of years and the suits in Mexico City. You may also recall the uprising of nearly 25 years ago that became known as the Zapatista movement. Many experts have varying opinions as to the hows and the whys of this peasant movement, but most agree that it was all the fault of NAFTA. Or the devaluation of the Mexican peso. Or widespread corruption within the government. Hell, it was probably all three, and then some.
Without rehashing the history of a very tumultuous time in Mexican history (you can read a very good account of that period in the book Bordering on Chaos) the point is that Pope Francis is coming to San Cristobal to show some sort of solidarity with the Chiapanecas, and to (allegedly) honor the now dead priest –Father Samuel Ruiz– who acted as a mediator of sorts between the indigenous people, their leader Subcomandante Marcos, and the Mexican government.
So, next Monday the Pope will arrive in San Cristobal. He’ll perform a Mass at the local baseball stadium which had to be extensively remodeled and enlarged to accommodate the crowds, and he’ll give that Mass in Spanish and two Mayan dialects. He’ll then visit the Cathedral that is about 5 minutes from my house.
The US State Department issued a memo regarding this visit, and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t all gloom and doom. It simply warned of heavy traffic, closed roads, and that it’s advisable to stock up on food and water.
However, it’s the presence of the Mexican military that I’m most interested in seeing. Chiapas is still a very raw place, and the Chiapanecas are still very vocal in their displeasure, which usually translates to roadblocks and spray paint. The aforementioned cathedral is always covered in political graffiti, which local painters have been scrambling to cover in anticipation of El Papa. I’m sure there are guards posted now so the taggers are kept at bay and the pope doesn’t have to see yet another fervent cry for justice for The 43.
Of course, rumors are flying around San Cristobal. Are all the roads near the square and the cathedral going to be closed? I don’t have a ticket to the Mass so will I still be able to get a glimpse of the pope? He’s coming in and out by helicopter; can I see the popecopter from my roof?
Regardless of exactly how this visit will go down, this is the official schedule.
Monday 15 February 2016
07:30 Departure by plane for Tuxtla Gutiérrez
09:15 Transfer by helicopter to San Cristóbal de Las Casas
10:15 Holy Mass with the indigenous community of Chiapas at the Municipal Sports (Homily by the Holy Father)
13:00 Lunch with indigenous representatives and the Papal entourage
15:00 Visit to the Cathedral of San Cristòbal de las Casas
15:35 Transfer by helicopter to Tuxtla Gutiérrez
16:15 Meeting with Families in “Víctor Manuel Reyna” Stadium at Tuxtla Gutiérrez (Discourse by the Holy Father)
18:10 Departure by plane for Mexico City
20:00 Arrival at the airport in Mexico City
Despite all of my misgivings about religion, I am ridiculously excited about this event. While my chances of actually laying eyes on the pope are slim, Mexicans do love a party and I expect this one celebrating the Papal visit will be one for the record books.
Regardless, I’ll be out in the fray, camera in hand, elbow to elbow with the truly devout and the ones like me, who are just a little pope-curious.
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