Here are a handful of photos from my week in México. If you read my post about the trip, you'll get a better context for them. I'll put more on facebook too.
Mezcal factory in Oaxaca
View of the Monte Alban ruins in Oaxaca
Julio and I at the Palenque ruins in Chiapas
Cañon del Sumidero, Chiapas
Agua Azul, Chiapas -- reminded me a bit of Las Conchas, but on a much larger scale
"Vive y deja vivir" -- "Live and let live" Lupita sure is a smart lady!
Loved the colors in San Cristobal!
Julio hanging out with the Zapatistas in San Cristobal de Las Casas
My first attempt at crossing a border by land was an adventure. In an airport, it’s so simple and straightforward. You can’t escape without your stamps. Not true at the Guatemala-Mexico border at La Mesilla.
After a couple hours on a chicken bus, a tuk-tuk (motorized rick-shaw) took me the remaining kilometer to the border. There, I walked beneath the large “Bienvenidos a México” sign, climbed onto a bus and off I went. The Mexican town was 4 kilometers down the road, so I figured that was where we would all pass through Immigration. Nope. We kept on driving down the road.
I asked the driver to stop. “Perdón, Señor, I think I need a stamp in my passport.”
“Really? Okay, if you want one of those, you have to walk back over there.”
He got my backpack out and drove off.
The passport-stamper looked through my passport and coldly told me that I needed the stamp for leaving Guatemala. “But nobody stopped me and told me to get one.” He didn’t care. “Go back to the Guatemalan side and get one.” So I hopped on a bus, re-crossed the border, again without anyone stopping me, got my stamp, and then came back to get the Mexican stamp.
It was good that I made the extra effort to get the stamps, because once I was on the road in México, Immigration stopped our bus at least 5 times. Though they didn’t really care about me, they were looking for Guatemalans that were trying to cross illegally. At one point, they took two off and the bus left them behind.
My destination was San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas, where Julio and I planned to meet up on Wednesday and explore the state for a week. He, however, didn’t show up until Thursday morning, leaving me worrying. Typical Julio.
This was my first time in México. I was expecting it to be similar to Guatemala, but it was much cleaner and more organized. I felt safer there too.
Anyway, we explored San Cristobal a bit, learned about the Zapatista rebellion, then headed to the Mayan ruins in Palenque. Strangely, it was cheaper to use a tour agency than public transportation. They took us first to Agua Azul, which is a huge series of waterfalls much like my beloved Las Conchas, but bigger. The driver gave us an hour there. When we were all ten minutes late, he yelled at and told us that next time he would leave us behind. At Misol-Ha, another cool waterfall, we had 40 minutes. This is why I don’t like organized tours: you can’t take time to appreciate the place. I would’ve loved to have a picnic and go for a swim. Next we had 2 hours in Palenque. It’s very similar to Tikal: Mayan ruins tucked away in the jungle. All very cool, just rushed.
The next day we took a boat tour of the Cañon del Sumidero, which is a beautiful Canyon with walls 200 meters high at some points. It used to be a raging river, but now, as in many places, it is a reservoir that was created by a large hydroelectric dam. At some places it is now more than 200 meters deep. The guide casually told us that the town of Usumacinta was relocated. No big deal, right? Gotta love dams.
We decided to move on from Chiapas to Oaxaca since we saw most everything we wanted to in just a couple days. We had 2 ½ days in Oaxaca, which definitely was not enough. It is a very diverse state with respect to both nature and culture, thus I will have to return one day. During the time we had there, we went to the “Mezcal capital of the world” and saw how they make the famous artisan alcohol from maguey plants. We visited Monte Alban, the first urban settlement in Mesoamerica. And of course, we ate lots of food, as Oaxaca’s cuisine is delicious (including grasshoppers, a delicacy there).
Tuesday night I made the long trip back to Guatemala: a12 hour overnight bus ride from Oaxaca to Tapachula, another border crossing, plus about 4 hours of travel back to my site from the border. The border crossing was again interesting but not because of passport stamps. Before crossing the border, there was a handful of men with wads of Guatemalan money so that travellers could change their pesos to quetzales. I already had quetzales, but some Canadians that I had started travelling with needed to change their money. We were about to when some guy got pissed because they gave him a poor rate, threatened to call the cops, then the money-changers punched him in the face. So we left and I lent them Q100 until we found an ATM.
This trip was a much needed respite from my projects. I have been driving myself crazy worrying about how I am going to manage to finish everything in just four months. So I told myself that on this trip I would not think about Peace Corps. Plus, Julio wasn’t going to want to hear me talk about that. Thus it was a very peaceful, tranquil week. And it made me really excited for my travels next year when I really won’t have any commitments to worry about nor my whereabouts to report to Peace Corps … I’ll only have to report my whereabouts to my mom!
p.s. I'll put pictures up within the next couple of days.
It's only been two weeks since I last wrote, yet a lot has happened that I want to share! I just got back from México today, but I will save that for another post.
Before I left last week, I went to Agua Caliente to present the Reglamento de Manejo de Desechos Sólidos (Solid Waste Management Regulations) for the sanitary landfill and trash collection to the community and to train the leaders about the program. It went really well! The project is moving along.
(The center of the village. No wonder I love this community! There's even a bit of a night life -- jovenes playing in the pools, people eating street food, etc.)
My friend Sarah (a Healthy Schools PCV) went with me to help give the training. I've never really planned and executed my own one before, so it was nice to have the assistance. And she fell in love with the community, which made me fall even more in love with it. It's a very rural village of 1000 people, but only about 500 in the center. The people are very involved, and very warm and friendly, but that could be due to the hot-spring-fed pools that they have in the center of town! I should just go live there... they're free for community-use.
(Sarah helping me teach the 4Rs)
Anyway, the community meeting was successful. We paired my presentation with the election of the community mayor for 2010, thus many people showed up. However, they were all men. Apparently, women are not allowed to vote, or at least that's what we were told. I think that it's actually due to the machismo in the community: the women are just expected to stay in the home. It's really sad, but through my project, I'm trying to increase the female participation.
(Discussion of the Reglamento. Don Meme was very animated in favor of it.)
We read and discussed the 6 page Reglamento, then it was approved. Simple. On Monday, eight leaders (1 woman, 7 men -- better than the election) joined us to learn about the project and how to teach "Reduce-Reuse-Recycle," composting, and the ins-and-outs of the Reglamento to the community members. I was hoping for more, but those that were there all participated, so maybe it was better. Quality over quantity. These leaders will start working with their neighbors on the themes and I'll be going back on December 2nd to train others and hopefully to dig out the trench for the landfill.
The mayoral election was intriguing. The candidates were nominated by the community that afternoon based on who hadn't served yet. It's a requirement that everyone serves as mayor twice in his lifetime. Those that were nominated, protested against it, while everyone else gave speeches in favor of them, thus diverting the attention from themselves. Eventually they settled on two men (they take turns -- one month on, one off). Everyone was content, except for those men! I commented that Obama won the presidency in the exact same way, which made them all laugh. Humor is so easy here.
At the moment, this is my favorite project because everyone is so involved and excited about it. The trail, for example, is lacking involvement from the group. I felt guilty going on vacation this past week because we were supposed to have contracted laborers to finish the trail. Found out upon my return today that nothing happened! I'm glad I didn't skip México for the trail!
I'd like to mention again about the project that I am working on the community of Las Cerezas, here in my Guatemalan town: the construction of a classroom with recycled materials (plastic bottles and inorganic trash). The complete description is at this previous blog post: http://audreysquires.blogspot.com/2009/09/novel-idea-for-trash-and-request.html.
If you are able and willing to donate to help us reach our goal of $2830, here is how you can do so:
*IMPORTANT* Make sure to put on the memo line of the check: “Audrey Squires – Cat. II”, otherwise your donation will go to the general scholarship fund.
Thanks for your support!
Also, I forgot to mention earlier, but FOG is an NGO with a 501c3 status, thus donations are tax-deductible.
This past weekend was another adventure to remember beginning, of course, with the bus ride to the destination.
On the ride down the mountain, feeling a little queasy, I put on my iPod and shut my eyes for a bit instead of reading my book. Half asleep, I was awoken by shouting and looked up to see all the passengers that had been standing in the aisles (at least 25), duck down. Not having heard what was said, I assumed that the driver had seen someone ahead that was going to shoot at the bus, which is not outside the realm of possibility considering all the gangster extortionists that work the route. I was frightened, especially since I had chosen to sit up front. How do you hide from a bullet? Luckily, my guess was wrong. We rolled passed some cops and it all became clear: the cops actually enforce passenger limits, thus the sudden ducking of the passengers to avoid a fine for the driver.
The long journey continued. I had estimated no more than 5 hours, including waiting, to reach Todos Santos (less than 90 miles away). It took 7. The details are typical: road blocks, weather, waiting, sketchy mountain-side roads.
Although I had been to the town of Todos Santos Cuchumutanes, Huehuetenango before (and almost lived in one of its villages), I had not been for the major show. As its name suggests, the feria of Todos Santos coincides with el Día de Todos los Santos (All Saints Day). It's a cool place to visit on a normal day with the beautiful mountains and the women and men both wearing the typical indigenous clothes from the town. The feria, however, is something you can't miss, particularly the horse races, which are especially famous because the riders are drunk. Many refer to the event as the "drunken horse races," however, it has a very interesting past that makes it more culturally appealing.
When the Spaniards were exploring the Sierra de los Cuchumutanes (probably in the 1500s or 1600s), they would leave their horses in the care of the local people of Todos Santos, but with the warning that if they were to ride them, they would die. So for years the locals took good care of the horses and never rode them, until one day, a man decided to test the warning. He told his family he was going to steal a horse and ride it around town, proving to all that the Spaniards were lying to them and taking advantage of them. The family, afraid for the man's life, pleaded with him not to. But he told them not to worry, if he were to die, he would at least go down as a hero. Moreover, he decided to perform the feat drunk. The man did become a hero, but not by dying. He successfully rode through town that night (drunk) and lived to prove to his people that the Spaniards were cheating them.
From that night evolved the current event that takes place during the feria, where a handful of men pay to ride horses (ironically, rented from non-indigenous people) all day long on November 1st. There aren't individual races and winners, it is more of an endurance event.
So really, it's a story of rebellion and an activity in commemoration of that, not simply men stupidly risking their lives to ride horses while drunk.
The rumor that the race continues until someone dies or is seriously injured (which is an honor) proved true this year. Around 4:30pm, one of the riders, too drunk to stay on his horse, fell to the side, too close to the fence, and wrapped his neck around a post. (Luckily, I did not see this.) Believed to be dead, people started shaking him. A friend of mine who's well-trained in first aid/CPR ran down to check on him, found his pulse, and convinced his compañeros that he needed a doctor immediately. After the incident, the races were suspended, leaving us to explore the cemetery, ride the ferris wheel and go to the local dance.
Monday morning leaving town was another adventure. A volunteer that lives in Todos Santos hooked us up with a house for the weekend for Q30 ($3.75) each per night. When I tried to pay the owners on my way out, the crazy old man who lives there locked us all in the ran up to where people were still sleeping and starting yelling at them to pay while beating them with his large stick. He seemed to fear that we were trying to cheat him out of Q900, clearly not understanding that the volunteer from there had collected everyone's money and was going to pay him shortly. Eventually I escaped and met up with my friends at the comedor who had snuck out before the jail beating.
The last bus for the early morning was leaving at 7:30 a.m., with the next one not leaving until 11 a.m., i.e. EVERYONE wanted on the 7:30. The bus driver, trying to make a few extra Q, squeezed close to 50 people on a 25-seater bus, which made the steep hills difficult. Half the bus had to exit and walk at least 4 times on the way up the mountain. And due to the cramped quarters, a handful decided to ride on the luggage rack, which later got the driver a Q100 fine when we were heading down the other side of the mountain into Huehue.
I wonder: what's travel like in the States?
Stay tuned for the next adventure: a week in Chiapas with Julio! We're meeting up next Wednesday!
I'm a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Guatemala. This is an account of my service as an ecotourism volunteer. Now I am traveling by land through Central and South America and will continue updating it.
...My blog is mine, not the Peace Corps', so everything said here are my thoughts, not theirs...FYI.
