A Place in the Clouds

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.

Pueblos Mágicos

You’re the rabbit; we’re the hat.
Live your own prestige.
Experience something extraordinary.
Disappear from the normal everyday.
Reappear in the splendor here.
Discover our secrets.
It’s your turn.
Our logo is a pinwheel.

That is not a random poem. Taken individually, each line represents a possible slogan for the Pueblos Mágicos (Magic Towns) in Mexico. This was an initiative started in 2001 by the country’s board of tourism to enchant certain towns. Or something to that effect. Is it a clever branding scheme to elicit extra money and dump it into otherwise ho-hum economies? Perhaps. But there’s actually some value there.

While the program has designated 121 Pueblos Mágicos scattered across Mexico, not every one is a home run. Obviously. I’m looking at you Jalpan de Serra. [Never been there.] However, there is a list of criteria a town must meet in order to qualify for the elite club. For starters, each village needs to have some sort of historical significance or folklore. Additionally, it must offer either important festivals, traditions, handcrafts, cuisine, art, or nature element. Per the ever-important numbers aspect, each place must have a population of at least 5,000, host more than 20,000 tourists each weekend, and be less than a 3 hour drive from a “well-resourced” city.

Before doing any research, I thought I had visited 4. That number is accurate but for different reasons than I initially understood. Teotihuacan is part of the group, which added an unexpected +1 in the “been there” column, but I had a -1 for something else.

San Miguel de Allende

It had my vote for the best PM so far, but was actually removed from the list in 2008 because it became an UNESCO World Heritage site. Still, it’s a rad place so it deserves some praise.

Centered around La Parroquia, an epic cathedral, the town square and surrounding streets feature an array of oranges, accented by building walls and items for sale in various shops. Flower crowns have surpassed the declaration of novelty accessory, though they continue to enhance the style of the ladies wearing them.

By far the most impressive attributes of the city are the 120+ art galleries and 160+ restaurants/cantinas — basically between every crack in the cobblestones. You can walk down a seemingly pointless path to end up admiring a slew of sculptures or paintings. Even though it’s possible to thoroughly traverse the main downtown area in a few hours, you’ll need a few days to scratch the surface of the dining and art gazing opportunities. There might even be a minute gallery under your pillow if you look close enough.

Each street provides a warm vibe that encourages wandering. Things will come to you as well. After Michelle and I enjoyed the elevated scenic view, we were enveloped by a mariachi wedding procession. It was a partying parade, complete with donkey and mojigangas (larger than life, paper mache versions of the bride and groom). I guess we could have pretended we belonged and followed them to the reception. Next time.

That might be the only negative (or positive depending on how you look at it). People are aware of San Miguel’s grandeur so I imagine the crowds are stifling during peak times. I recently saw an acquaintance from high school got married there. Also, it’s apparently a John Mayer concert destination. That one was a little confusing. Regardless of the popularity, it’s a must see.

Cholula

Next, in order of visitation. It was just a few days before Christmas, but plenty warm enough for a t-shirt. Once more, the main focus was a church. Santuario de la Virgen  de los Remedios is perched atop a hill as well as a pyramid, somehow hidden from Spanish conquerors, if memory serves. Facts I wish I knew when I was there: it is the largest known pyramid that exists today. Yet it was hidden from invaders? Well played, you guys.

One spectacular thing about the cathedral is the view of the surrounding area, including Popocatépetl, the active volcano nearby. Of course, the pictures advertised were epic and showcased both in breathtaking fashion. It required a drone. There was disappointment.

Just below Our Lady of Remedies was an artisan market and a square of cafes and street vendors. Two different ceremonies were happening simultaneously. I think one was some kind of Aztec sacrifice. I’m not even sure how to describe it. There was a fire, massive feathered headdresses, and a circle of white-cloaked swordsmen. I kept a safe distance amidst my curiosity.

The other was the dance of the flyers. It’s a ritual that was created to ask the ancient Gods to end droughts. I have a feeling nowadays it is performed strictly as a money maker, but it was still cool to watch. Four people climbed a 100ft pole and then jumped off the top, spinning and dancing as they returned to the ground. Their costumes kind of looked like acrobatic pirates if that does anything for you.

Atlixco

Again, it was just before Christmas and it was night time. The key attraction was the Illuminated Village. Think of a tacky lights tour, concentrated mostly in one avenue but with a sliver more taste. I don’t know how many bulbs were used in total. We can just call it a fuck ton. What I do know is that the streets were shoulder to shoulder.

There were various sections of the town that had slightly unique decorations, primarily to keep the attention of smaller kids. There was a stretch that gave me the spirit for a very brief 5 seconds before 12 drunk people dominated everything.

The highlight: 2 cool staircases.

I think it’s a pass from me, unfortunately. But perhaps it is better during non-holiday times.

Tepoztlan

Our most recent trip brought us to the birthplace of the feathered serpent. Legend says that the people worshipped the Gods of wind, rain, and pulque until they stopped responding. The village elders went to consult the mountain and decided it was time to exchange those Gods for the Christian one. The moment they converted to Catholicism.

I guess.

There is a steep, 1.25 mile trail leading to a clifftop where an Aztec pyramid remains. Michelle and I had every intention of making the hour and half climb up to catch that view. The thing is, it was so damn hot the day we went. Plus, it was the middle of the day. So, you know…that plan transformed into street mojitos.

It gave us time to comb through the extensive tianguis, which was basically the entire town? I mean, the market hugged both sides of practically every street. For sure, the rustic vendor stands complimented the mountain backdrop quite well.

Contrary to the YouTube travel vlogs we watched before the trip, the vibe of the town was exceptional. It’s definitely small and wouldn’t require more than 1 or 2 nights to explore to your heart’s content, but worth a go. The mixture of history, handcrafts, and nature makes for a satisfying excursion.

So, at a measly 3% completion rate, I have a decent task of creating a respectable record of Pueblos Mágicos visits. At least now I know what to look out for. And though it’s far from comprehensive, now you have an idea as well.

Don’t mention it.

Transitions

Normal life. Or the semblance of one. What does it involve? How does it function?

It was time to remember.

From the moment I landed in Mexico in November, I had already begun transitioning out of the nomadic lifestyle I was accustomed to. Now, I had to get adventurous in a different way: returning to the familiarity of a steady routine, a consistent bed, and the possibility of an expanded wardrobe.

Michelle and I were renting a room in a house together. Within a few days, I had keys and a public transportation card. I went grocery shopping at Walmart. I moved my clothes into drawers and a closet. Normal life.

Did I experience anxiety about relinquishing travel-filled days for a more settled space? No. Even though I was reencountering facets of ordinary life, there was still plenty to explore in the way of Mexico City.

My discovery process of this expansive place has been slow but continuous. “Poco a poco” as they would say. With a dozen popular neighborhoods, over 150 museums and parks, and an increasing landscape of restaurants, markets, and monuments, it’s a matter of years, not days. Museo de Antropologia, Bosque de Chapultepec, and Zócalo are a few obvious picks for top attractions. Though I imagine a lifelong resident still discovering lesser known gems well into old age.

Speaking of age, you will find plenty of history in and around the city as well. Whether it be Mesoamerican cities and pyramids, Aztec temples, or ruins unearthed during new metro line construction, there’s plenty of fascinating relics from bygone times. You know, like when human sacrifice and the worshiping of a feathered serpent deity were all the rage.

Nowadays, weekly feminism protests, tortillas with every meal, and bluetooth headphones are more commonplace.

The regularity of protests or marches are necessary since the machismo mindset is rampant. The fight is about general safety and respect, let alone equal treatment. Kidnappings and murders are still a frequent occurrence countrywide that the government neglects. While Mexico City is one of the more progressive locales, the large liberal population continue to have trouble making a noticeable impact. Hopefully there is a breakthrough soon.

On a lighter note: street vendors everywhere. What do you want? You can find it just a few paces away. There are mobile carts making sweets, juices, or tortas; bikes selling basket tacos, corn snacks, or accessories; stands (or the hoods of cars) for bootlegged DVDs, tchotchkes, and clothing. But don’t worry. If that’s not enough, the hustlers will come to you. On the subway, people will go train to train selling miscellaneous gum, charging cables or Jesus. Miscellaneous Jesus, everybody. 

Combine all of these things into one and you’ve got a tianguis — a street market that happens weekly in each community. It’s a great place to buy your produce, eat a delectable al pastor pambazo, or find those random cleaning supplies you forgot you needed. The first time I went, my head was on a swivel because there were too many things to observe. The same can be said for the vibrant artisanal markets scattered throughout CDMX. My favorite is La Ciudadela because it’s a labyrinth, jam-packed with colorful handcrafts. Hot tip: it’s the perfect place to knock out all of your Christmas shopping. Next on the list would be La Lagunilla, which is more of an unspoken fiesta of alcohol and food. You know people can crush an unwind sesh when it’s 2pm on a Sunday and you have to weave through a sea of drunkards and heavy waft of weed every 5 minutes. Hey, I don’t have the self-control to deny a 2×1 michelada special either.

Another rich sensory experience are all of the sounds of the city. The base layer, is of course, construction. A soft hum. On top of that, every few hours a car will drive by blaring a recorded message about buying your broken shit. The melody is permanently etched in my brain. I’m also familiar with the bell for trash pickup. The most grating though, is a two-phase, extremely high pitched whistle made by the exhausted steam from the caramelized bananas dessert guy. In addition, you can enjoy an impromptu three-song concert while eating lunch on a patio. It’s a diverse soundscape with so much character.

To try to better understand it all (and improve myself), I started taking Spanish classes at the beginning of the year. I knew nothing apart from random idioms (mi casa es su casa) and a Duolingo stint that barely scratched the surface. But the prospect of having a second language was and is exciting. I heard somewhere that if you know English and Spanish, you can communicate with like 80% of the world. That’s solid. Still, it’s a process. After 8 weeks and several mind explosions, I’m…somewhere. Further along than I was, definitely. I had an awesome teacher and group of fellow students. However, speaking and listening are everyday hurdles. Puedo entender más, pero necesito años para comunicar una idea. The concept of rapid immersion learning baffles me. Can I blame it on me being past my prime? A possible excuse. Really, I just need more time to absorb and discover.

Normal life.