Breaking the cycle. An interruption to the new normal. Pressing pause on the quarantine routine. A short escape.
After months of laying extremely low in our Mexican apartment, Michelle and I finally left the nest. I honestly hadn’t realized how much of the past 4 months I’d lived indoors. I mean, we would take weekly trips to the market to stock up on produce and then there was the occasional trip to Walmart for other groceries. But those outings are less than 10 minutes away and strictly there and back. The feeling of exploration, or even a simple Vitamin D soak up, has been lamentably absent in recent times.
So, that brings us to the decision. We had a flight credit from March when we were forced to cancel our temporary move to the Riviera Maya after Covid-19 exploded. Therefore, we figured it was a good moment to cash in on a short trip to another magic town.
For this excursion, we traveled to the state of Chiapas. It has an expansive coastline along the Pacific and shares a border with Ecuador to the south. Our principal destination was San Cristóbal de las Casas, which is more or less central. By simply walking from the bus terminal to our accommodation, I could sense a newfound energy within us.
We used part of the first evening to gather information about the various day tours available. Sadly, Palenque, an archeological site of Mayan ruins, was closed even though the government said it was set to reopen a week before our arrival. It was the location we were most excited about discovering. Avoiding other obstacles, we made arrangements for two different tours and took a promenade around the main avenues, familiarizing ourselves with the Spanish colonial layout.
A brief stroll through the tarp-pitched artisanal stalls taught us a few quick things. For one, the natives of every community, no matter how small, primarily speak their own language — an indigenous tongue stemming from the Mayans. Apparently there are enough similarities among the dialects for people of neighboring municipalities to understand each other. Of course, when they’re not gossiping about the tourists, they also speak Spanish to conduct business. The other evident surprise was that few (if any) inhabitants were wearing masks. We later learned that because of their ancient background, they believe that sicknesses can be cured with herbal or holistic medicine. Hence, our masks were as much for them as they were for us. Lastly, without fail, it rains in the afternoon/early evening. In the native vernacular, the name of the city is “Jovel,” which means “a place in the clouds,” so I guess that makes sense.
Our first day trip involved a visit to the Sumidero Canyon. That area of Chiapas is beautifully mountainous, which provided us with some spectacular views along the drive. When we arrived, we hopped in a small motor boat and hit the water. Half of the canyon was still off-limits for some reason. I understand heavily-trafficked tourist areas being shutdown, but it’s a little harder to swallow when in the middle of nature. Violating social distancing when inside a watercraft is rather difficult, but I digress.
To start, we cruised around some islands to get a glimpse of the colonies of pelicans and egrets enjoying the foliage. Next, we were taken relatively close to a few waterfalls cascading off the large cliffs, even getting soaked by one. That was a bonus of the recent rain, however the negative was that we missed seeing crocodiles, monkeys, and some other wildlife that had taken shelter. Though we couldn’t venture farther into the canyon, the contrast of the river weaving down the middle of two towering pieces of rock was an impressive sight.
On the ride back, our group become more comfortable socializing with one another. We met a couple from Texas who were vacationing. The guy spoke impressive Spanish (without much of a gringo accent) after having lived in northern Mexico for 2 full years. He said he started to really grasp the language after 18 months; simultaneously disheartening and understandable. Almost the entire group got together in the evening to hangout at a bar with entertaining live music. That type of setting, the whole people at tables chatting and drinking thing, felt unknown after such a long absence. A decent night on the town nonetheless.
The second tour was a jaunt to two different indigenous communities, a tour of just 3 people —evidence the tourism industry was still suffering. When we arrived in Zinacantán, I was expecting something deserted and simple. Instead, I realized that by “community” they meant “town.” Either way, it was a good day to go because there was a celebration happening. Due to that, there was a parade of all the important men in the town, dressed in their customary attire. We went to a traditional house, which was more of a modest market store. However, it did have a no-frills brick and dirt kitchen where they offered us wood fired tortillas with bean paste and salsa. Unassuming yet delicious.
We were given about 30 minutes of free time to get acquainted with the rest of the place. As with the majority of these localities, the main square is centered around the church. Without question, it is the building that the residents take the most pride in. A fun fact about this particular church was that only the men in the community (those we had seen in the parade) have the responsibility of cleaning, decorating, and caring for the building. The women aren’t permitted to touch anything inside, even the flowers. That is actually notable too, because the entire wall behind the alter was filled with an ornate design of blooming bouquets. Photography wasn’t allowed inside, so you’ll have to imagine it with your internal lens.
Before entering the other community, our guide pulled the van aside to explain a few important things to us. The story of Chamula is fascinating and…a bit scary. For starters, the Mexican government doesn’t have jurisdiction there anymore, supposedly as a result of the Zapatista movement — a far-left libertarian-socialist group that organized in 1994 to combat economic globalization and oppression against indigenous peoples. While the fight may have been positive in the early years, nowadays, the leaders have become corrupt and the area is purportedly a prominent piece for narco trafficking. We were advised to keep an eye out for the elaborate houses, sat next to humble shacks, that were a clear sign of the owner’s involvement in the game (even though they “only sold pollo”). Another scintillating tidbit is that they actively practice polygamy. It’s such a misogynistic community that if a woman is seen talking to a man, it means she is then obligated to marry him. Yikes. I kindly asked Michelle to avoid making eye contact when possible.
Again, the main attraction was the church. Continuing the tasty goss, it also has an exotic background. On its face, it is a Catholic church. However, the religion is actually a mixture of Spanish Catholic traditions, pre-conquest Mayan customs, and recent creations. There are statues of Catholic saints on tables throughout the building, but they represent Mayan Gods. In addition, the floor is covered with green pine needles to separate the worlds of the living and the dead. Also — the most impactful practice — is that on top of the common offerings such as candles, flowers, and cigarettes, they make live animal sacrifices in dire circumstances. We saw one happen. I heard the sound of a chicken struggling and then saw a woman with a firm grip on flapping wings. Moments later, there it lied, lifeless on the floor.
It’s interesting. Michelle’s mom is religious. She believes in a lot of different things. After she found out we were there, she told us that we needed to cleanse ourselves of the toxic vibes. Michelle didn’t heed the advice while I disregarded it because of my non-belief/denial in such ideas. Fast forward to the next day and Michelle felt consistently awful, sidelined with an illness for the entire evening. I attribute it to the shrimp she ate for lunch, but who knows for sure?
Thankfully, we squeezed several things in before the attack of the spirits took effect. Instead of going on another field trip into nature, we elected to explore the culture of the San Cristóbal more in depth. We took a free walking tour with 3 participants once more. Even though it was completely in Spanish, I think I understood about 60-70% of what our guide said. He recanted the relevant history and introduced us to the underground art scene. We literally showed up at a random house and went inside to find an art studio of various projects. For me, this is the kind of experience that adds dimension and personality to a city. Next, we visited a collective of various small businesses that shared a picturesque courtyard. We had a free tasting of Pox, a local alcoholic beverage similar to mezcal (but made primarily of corn). It was the perfect way to conclude the tour.
In general, uncovering the modern, artistic side reinvigorated my desire to delve into similar places. The combination of current perspectives mixed with a traditional, quaint environment really does add an element of magic to these towns. I’m sure it helps that I was long overdue for a change of pace. I had forgotten the freshness of these feelings. Right now, I think it’s especially important for us to make an effort to inject this into our lives. In our normal routines, complacency sets in within a few months and it’s certainly much quicker when we’re stuck inside without the capacity to follow our lust for adventure.
