This Unique World Begs to Be Traveled

The restaurant outside Guanajuato

2008-02-28T09:40:00.002-06:00

Hello everyone who clicked the link from ThornTree about the good restaurant outside of Guanajuato.

I took the original posting off because I am trying to shop it around as a magazine article and I didn't want it to get plagiarized. It is an amazing restaurant though...

Here is their web-site:

www.ik-etznab.com

Dedicated

2008-02-22T10:06:00.003-06:00

Kike (Key-kay) gave me Mexico tied up in a red, white and green bow.

He gave me all of Mexico's exotic foods, its popular customs, all its cumbia, hip hop, ska, reggae music, its current events, all of Mexico's pride. Kike gave me futbol. He didn't give me soccer. He gave me futbol Mexicano, the stats, la porra. He made a fan out of me, made me a Jaguar, made me bleed orange. He tamed Mexico City, big, bad Day eFay, the beast, he tamed it right in front of my eyes giving it to me so I could make it my own. Kike made a wife out of me, his esposa, and with that he gave me a whole family: a suegra, mother-in-law, her food, her rules, her grandkids, and her only son. He gave me a life in Spanish, a life dubbed in street Spanish with dictionary Spanish subtitles. Kike would spoon me every night as we fell asleep and every morning as we woke up. He would cuddle me and give me all the energy, all the experience and all the love he knew how to give.

I have tears in my eyes at this very moment, knowing and having to admit that after all Kike had given me...it just wasn't enough. So, if this book were especially dedicated to any one person in particular, it would have to be Kike.

To Kike, Key-kay, Enrique, el Negro: for giving me everything you had to give and for showing me Mexico.

On Being On Safari

2007-09-01T09:46:00.001-06:00

On the first day of safari while having lunch next to a pond filled with hippos, it hits me that I am in Africa. Actually, it hits me more that I am on safari and having my first group travel experience. There are eight of us: two guides, two older doctors, a computer scientist, his Science PhD wife, my mom, and me. We are all American except for the two British guides, and I wonder when I will truly feel like I am in Africa.

This morning I come close. We begin our Botswanan experience in a basket store. Botswana only has one art-form which is basket-weaving. Johnno, the older Brit guide, tells me this is the closest I'll get to seeing Botswanan culture before heading out to the bush. The store represents a 200 woman basket weaving cooperative and I am excited to see a group of ladies sitting in front of the store. What turns me on most about traveling is social interaction. I love talking to people from different cultures. I love how different people are and how similar we all are at the same time.

We spend about an hour at the basket store. The lady doctor in our group lost her luggage and had to go to town to get some supplies. My mom, myself and the two doctorates are in the basket store killing time. As everyone browses the many designs, I chat it up with the basket lady. I ask her about business and she asks me about the States. She speaks good English and teaches me a little Setswana. After a while, I go outside where the group of women are sitting and one is weaving. "Dumelang bo Mma!" I say greeting them in Setswana. They greet me back and laugh as I try to sound out other phrases. My mom and I are having fun getting our first taste of Botswanan culture.

The lady doctor returns from her shopping spree in town and browses the basket store. I take this opportunity to observe my traveling companions. My mom's laugh rings out as she plays with a baby on a woman's back. The doctorate girl who is not much older than me is silent. They all look uncomfortable and I don't think I have seen one crack a smile yet. Johnno has cracked a few jokes and I think my mom and I will end up in his car for most of the trip. I hear the doctorate girl ask our other guide questions about basket weaving, the huts that surround us and the clothes the women wear. She was just over near the women and I wonder why she doesn't ask them herself. After a couple more minutes, we all load into two cars and we're off to Moremi Reserve to begin the safari.

* * *

We are two days in a mobile camp in the Moremi Reserve. We have a five-star camping experience with a staff of 7 cooking, serving our food, cleaning our tents and filling our bucket showers with hot water. I wasn't expecting to be camping like this and I am happy we are. We can't be any closer to the bush. There are bones in our camp from an ancient kill. At night, the sky is white as complete darkness accentuates billions of stars. We watch zebra graze 100 meters away and fall asleep to the reverberating sound of lion roars.

We wake the next two mornings at 6am to coffee boiling on the campfire. It is still dark and cold, but the excitement of the game drive is warming. We see a lot in Moremi. We see all kinds of antelope, eagles, giraffes, zebra, and hyena. On the way back to camp one afternoon, we spot a tree full of vultures about 200 meters from our tents. Johnno tells us this is quite the find because there is only one reason vultures congregate. We drive toward the tree and find three lions lazily sleeping next to a bush. Tucked neatly under the bush, but not completely out of sight is a half-eaten zebra carcass.

We watch the scene for awhile. A jackal circles at a safe distance. The lions continue to sleep. Suddenly, on the other side of the bush, we see the small head of a mongoose pop over the grass. He has smelled the zebra and moves in silently to steal a few nibbles. When we pulled up to the scene at first, Johnno laid down some rules for riding in his car. We must speak in hushed voices as to not disturb the animals. We can never get out of the vehicle unless we start singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" in which case we will be forced to walk back to camp. He strictly prohibits waving good-bye to the animals because they never wave back. He also will not tolerate any Disney-fication of the animals because as he says in a British accent, "It's all rubbish." As the mongoose sneaks a snack of the zebra, however, two of these rules go out the window. He begins to narrate for the mongoose. This will become a habit of Johnno's which just leaves my mom and I doubled over laughing until we cry. Johnno is hilarious and his narration seems to break the Disney rule and definitely causes us to break the quiet rule because we can hardly contain our guffaws.

* * *

After Moremi, we head by boat to Camp Okavango which is a lodge located in the Okavango river delta. Botswana is arid and does not receive much rainfall. The water-ways of the delta are fed by rains falling in the Angolan mountains. It takes six months for the water to reach Botswana and it creates an amazing web of swamps, creeks and islands. This part of the delta is green and beautiful. It boasts the largest number of lions including a pride of 7 male lions which is very rare. We lovingly refer to this pride as the gay pride, but the scientists don't find this funny.

At Camp O we get to go on a walking safari. We take a boat to an island and are very lucky to walk right up to a herd of buffalo being stalked by 4 lions. The lions are only watching the buffalo and we are not lucky enough to witness a kill, but it's cool to see the lions stealthily move closer and closer. Our walking guide Robert leads us away from the lions out into the bush. We see cape buffalo skulls and a hippo skeleton. A family of wart hogs grazes away on bended knees. Robert walks right up to the wart hogs and playfully oinks at them. They hardly pay attention.

A breeding herd of about 30 elephants comes out of the trees in the distance and makes its way toward us. Johnno also leads hunting safaris and knows quite a bit about tracking animals. He says that if he finds a set of elephant tracks that move in a straight line without any signs of stopping to eat, a human has no chance of catching up to it. Elephants hardly change their stride, but steadily move onward. The briskness of an elephant's pace becomes clearer as the herd gains on us. Robert quickly moves us to a cluster of bushes so we do not look threatening to the mama elephants. It's obvious that Robert is being more cautious with these gigantic animals than with the lions. By reputation, elephants are far more aggressive than lions, or better said, they are more easily threatened.

Our time at luxurious Camp O is relaxing. Our tent is a game drive all unto itself. We have 2 sparrows nests, a hornets nest and about 20 bats sleeping in the tree outside our door. At dusk, the bats wake and swoop all around eating bugs. At one point a bat flies too close to the sparrow's nest and is knocked out of the air with a squawk. It falls onto our porch and my mom and I are scared it is injured, but it gets up and flies away. Night falls into a cacophony of lion roars and hippo moos. After 2 days, we are off again by plane to Khwai another game reserve.

* * *

The drive from the air-strip to the mobile safari in Khwai is where I get to know more about Johnno and Africa. It is a long drive over dirt roads under a hot sun. Johnno's second passion is history and he satisfies my hunger for cultural knowledge. We get into jovial arguments over how much blame can be laid on the British. Johnno scolds me for my anti-colonial beliefs. "You can't fault the British," he says, "because then you would be blaming the Scots, the Irish and the Welsh and I know you don't think they did anything wrong. It's the English you hate, so get it straight." Johnno is English and throws any wise-cracks I give right back at me.

He teaches me a lot about Botswana. He tells me Botswana is the wealthiest country in Africa. With only 1.7 million people and the size of Texas or France, the money from diamonds go a long way. Botswana also makes quite a bit of money off of safaris and hunting safaris in particular. Hunting permits are expensive and then any animal killed carries a trophy cost, elephants being the most expensive. I came to Africa believing the African elephant was endangered which Johnno quickly corrects. In the 80's, he explains, Kenya had a huge problem with poaching which caused Kenya's elephant population to dwindle. Animals rights groups joined the campaign to stop poaching in Kenya, but Southern African elephant populations have always been strong. The population grows at 3% a year. Evidence of elephants is everywhere. We see groups of elephants everyday, as well as, tracks and the destruction left in the wake of their feedings.

Johnno also schools me in my African history. Studying colonization and African-American history in college, I came to Africa thinking I knew a thing or two about injustice and oppression. Johnno tells me stories, from the English point-of-view, that make me think. The British brought roads, he says and a fairer justice system. He says the Botswana government was modeled after the British one. Botswana was never a colony, only a protectorate for 40 years to protect Botswana from South Africa during the apartheid years. It's one of the reasons Botswana is so wealthy: it has a fairly honest government. Botswana isn't all money and diamonds though. 37% of the population has AIDS and the average life-expectancy is 33. I think about Robert our walking guide and he seems like an anomaly. I think about a conversation I had with Jacob, one of our camp staff, who told me his mother died a week ago and I think that chances are it was AIDS related. I guess money doesn't cure everything.

I don't know if I believe everything that Johnno tells me, but he definitely makes me think. I realize I had come to Africa with a very black vs. white mentality. Johnno reminds me of a truth I believe in. I believe that the majority of people are good people and want to do good things. Johnno reminds me that this also applies retroactively, that while bad people did bad things during colonization, there were also good people doing good things. He asks me why I would think there were less good people living back then than today. He says one of the things he hates most about white people today is their guilt. He says guilt doesn't do anyone any good and that charity only makes beggars out of people. He has seen it in Kenya. The charities give people things for nothing until the people expect to get everything for nothing. He believes the best thing that can happen to Africa is that they get over the past and move on. I don't entirely believe him or agree with him, but I listen. He is expanding my view of the world and I am developing a small crush on him. I start to crush on him despite the fact that the is almost 50 and despite the fact that he is English.

Kwhai isn't all about history though. It is in Khwai that we experience the most amazing of all of our animal sightings. In Kwhai we see two different packs of African wild dogs. The African wild dog is basically the African wolf. It is the rarest of Southern Africa's animals. Only 3000 live on the entire continent and about 750 live in Botswana. Our interaction with packs is quite intimate. The first pack we see in the morning. Chatter about their presence had cackled across the radios in the cars. Johnno, my mom and I are the first car to spot them and have them all to ourselves for at least 10 minutes. They are beautifully speckled animals and totally indifferent to human presence. They walk right up to the car, sniff around and go on their way just as about 8 cars pull up.

The second pack we have entirely to ourselves. Our other guide spots them sleeping under a tree. They lazily get up, walk to the road and lay down in between our 2 cars. They lounge around for a while until the alpha female decides it is time to move. They walk right past our car and one stops to check us out. He sniffs the air and then rolls around on his back before following the pack. We follow them until they stop abruptly in the road. An impala is grazing ahead of us in the bush. The dogs stand silently, waiting. A breeze comes through and the impala perks up. The dogs are ready. In a flash, the impala is spooked and takes off. In the blink of an eye the dogs are gone after the impala. As much as I would like to see a kill in action, this will not be my day. I am satisfied all the same as we pull over. The sun is setting producing yet another spectacular African sunset. Our guides open the bottles of wine and we all marvel at our luck.

* * *

My mom always said that when people come back from Africa they have a glow about them. She wanted to go to Africa to see what that glow, that eye-twinkling was all about. We both admit that while Africa was amazing, we don't feel changed. Maybe it was the 30 hour trip home, CPT-JNB-IAD-DEN-ABQ that took all our energy from us. Maybe, for me, it's because I have seem too many places to be so easily awed. Maybe it's because I am in love with another country that I am not so easily wooed. I am happy I met Africa though and she deserves a second date, but I don't lust for her. Her animals, her falls, her bush are all intriguing, but next time I want more conversation, more culture, more intimacy.

Africa stays with me though. About a week after coming home, my mom and I are walking her dog through the bosque. We have walked through the bosque a dozen times, but this time it seems so very much alive. We see a shed snake skin, huge crickets and a hawk. I have a deeper appreciation for animals after being to Africa and a handful of new stamps in my passport. I also come home with so many more questions and an even grayer view of the world.

Surviving Zimbabwe

2007-09-01T09:42:00.000-06:00

Aaah...wonderful, smiling Zimbabwe. After days and days in Africa, in the Botswanan bush, I finally hear drums. Africa, where the first heart beat, the drum beats on, like the Zimbabweans keep on keeping on.

We are still on safari. I am still on my first organized travel tour group and I happen to be with four scientists. As an artist, it becomes painful to hear science being used to take the fun out of everything. I am tired of being scolded for anthropomorphizing and scoffed at for daring to think that animals can have fun. Even the allure of bungee jumping off the Victoria Falls Bridge is tainted by talk of maximum velocity and trajectory.

I finally come to feel sorry for the scientists at the Boma restaurant in Victoria Falls, a touristy spot featuring game meat and dancing, drumming. This display of dancing, drumming, community-building Zimbabwe-style inspires the scientists to talk economics yet again. "Can they really make a living being dancers?" one asks. Maybe that is the trick, that is their mistake: they can't see the people. They only see poverty.

My mom orders a Diet Coke that costs $240,000 Zim dollars and dinner costs over $3,000,000 Zim dollars. It seems ridiculous, almost funny, these prices, but speaks to the economic strife of the country. Yes, there is reason for the scientists to care so much for economics while they are here, but they discuss, pity and complain in the same breath. They relate stories of the current Zimbabwean president and his insanity that they saw on CNN from the comfort of their Manhattan home. They shoot sad, condescending faces at the waiters at the restaurant lamenting their situation. "These poor, poor people," they say.

Then they complain, the armchair liberals. They complain about aggressive street-vendors and the amount of tourists in Vic Falls. After spending at least $10,000 USD each to go on an American-organized safari, they complain about staying at a foreign-owned hotel. "I feel bad most of my money is leaving the country," says one. When told about the local library's need for children's books, another one balks at the idea of spending $45 USD to send a box of books over. I thought they wanted to help these poor, poor people, but $45 seems like too much to spend to help them out. They don't even talk to the people. They keep the CNN images seen from sofas in their living rooms and feel guilty. These Americans feel guilty about a situation they didn't even cause. Instead of interacting with the place, its people, they only frown and cleanse their hands with anti-bacterial gel.

The Zimbabwean people don't need pity. They need clothes, shoes, pens, paper and they ask for it all, but in trade. Zimbabweans have a reputation of being honest, hard workers. They trade. They do not come with their hands out, they come with their wares...and what beautiful wares!! Our days spent at the Vic Falls market are by far the most memorable of the trip. After Botswana, a country of only one native craft, basket weaving, I am blown away by the myriad of Zimbabwean artistic expression. Yes, all this art is aimed at tourists, but in a country in the midst of financial collapse, tourism feeds the starving artists and their starving families. Supposedly, it is illegal to use US dollars in Zimbabwe, but some one looks the other way in regards to Vic Falls. I imagine Vic Falls is the best to be if you are Zimbabwean thanks to tourism. Employment is plentiful and constant. US dollars make acquiring goods possible over the near-by borders of Zambia and Botswana. Tourism, I believe, is saving this part of the country.

My mom and I go to the markets with bags of clothes. We go to the ladies market first. Batiks, wood carvings and stone sculptures all available for a couple pieces of clothing and a few dollars. We talk to the ladies selling batiks first. As I open my bag of clothes I am surrounded. These ladies get first pick and like typical women, they are choosy going for the best clothes. The whole negotiation process is filled with laughter, tough bargaining and integrity. We then head to the men's market down the street. Each stall has a name: "Discount Store", "Chicago Bulls", "Walmart". Everyone tells us their name almost immediately and I start to think it may be a custom like receiving gifts with two hands instead of one. We hear names like Truth, Lucky, Gift, and Good Price. My mom and I laugh and tell them we know their mothers didn't name them Good Price. The men tell us their Ndebele names and everyone giggles as we butcher the sounds. One guy looks at us and says, "See? Just call me Good Price and I give you good price."

Despite the reports coming out of this country, I don't feel any desperation from these people. Yes, they are poor and looking at their outward appearance their poverty is apparent, but the dignity of their character is unavoidable.

Zimbabweans proudly declare that they are survivors. They are a proud, persevering group of people who seriously never cease to smile. One Zimbabwean even declares that Botswanan people aren't as happy as Zimbabweans because they have more money. "Money doesn't bring happiness," he says. These are people who are not jaded, not by their situation, nor by the tourism that surrounds them. When my mom and I return to the market the next day, a man starts walking next to us, smiling as he follows us. It takes us a minute to notice, but when we look at his hat, his smile grows wider. "Nice hat," my mom says realizing it was one we traded yesterday. The man just starts laughing and gives my mom a one-armed hug saying, "Nice to see you again."

I leave Zimbabwe missing the laughter, the smiles and the short lessons in the Ndebele language.
I leave Zimbabwe awed by their art, music and spirit.
I leave Zimbabwe believing in the people, believing that they are surviving and will continue to survive with unbroken spirits.

I return home to my comfortable, spacious American home wishing I could explore more of Zimbabwe without fear of impending political unrest. I look through my photos and tenderly unwrap my souvenirs, but it all seems inadequate. I am disappointed in my purchases just like I am disappointed in my photos. The images fail to capture the true feeling of the places I have been, just like the few sculptures, batiks and carvings I brought home fail to capture the magnificence of the creative spirit of the people. I feel stupid once I am home for passing up the chance to buy one or two more sculptures because I was worried about spending an extra $15 or $20. At home, though, the money doesn't seem as important as the ability to give this uniqueness to others as a gift. I guess I have to be content with the memories and the few pieces of creative expression I do have.

Oaxaca y la Temporada de Lluvia

2007-06-20T14:57:00.000-06:00

Oaxaca during rainy season is a sight to see. For about eight months out of the year, Oaxaca's climate is as unchanging as any other high-altitude desert. Days are hot. Nights are cool. Every day is dry. Many people think deserts are boring. The brown landscape seems to be dead and dessicated under the unmerciful sun. I lived in Oaxaca two years ago during the driest part of the year which is April and May. Water was scarce and the water company was saying the wells were dry. Everyone was waiting for the rains to come, but I didn't. I left to moist, cool San Cristobal. This year, though, I am here for rainy season and I am glad. Many travelers hear "rain" or "rainy season" and head the other direction. Oh, but to see nature rejoice in what it waits all year for is quite the event.

The mornings are fresh, chilly, yet steaming as the sun dries up the puddles on cobblestone streets. Afternoons heat up, dry and deserty, like the Oaxaca of other months, set below a white and blue calico sky. As the sun goes down, thunder cracks imitating the inaudible sound of breaking heat. First, faintly across the valley, the rumble rolls in ahead of grey-black clouds louder and louder as the day darkens. Amazing lightening shows can be enjoyed from any rooftop. This is life lived in a valley. It's like a natural stadium where the sky is the stage.

As the storm blows closer, thunder builds with momentum. The heat gives way to gusting winds bringing in raindrops refugees before the stampede. Drop by drop, tip-tapping the metal corrugated roofs, this is only the beginning. A small moment passes, minutes where the evening is shrouded in shadow and half-basking sunlight. Then, as if on cue, a soft shuffle explodes into a BOOM! so strong one's chest reverberates with the thunder's echo. BOOM! FLASH! As if waiting to be formally announced, the sky opens up to baptize everything with furiously happy rage. The rain is the main attraction.

All evidence of urban breath, smog, even urban noise cowers away in the face of the season's daily exercise. People run for cover, stay inside, give thanks as the rain falls hard. From under certain roofs the sound of a million raindrops falling on corrugated metal can drown out even wall-shaking thunder claps. Conversation is muted, TVs are silenced and the only thing to do is watch and listen with marvel. Life pauses during one of these storms. The pouring, drenching rain only lasts about fifteen minutes, climaxes and only a cuddling drizzle wets Oaxaca. Sweet dreams are had falling asleep to the sound of rain only to wake up to a sunny fresh and chilly morning in which the ritualistic ceremony will repeat itself once again.

Everything about the rain is truly magnificent. The smells it carries from the mountains on its winds, the immensity of its cacophony and release it abates. Oaxacans love rainy season. Rainy season is when a desert comes of age and presents its beauty, its charms and fertility. Dry river beds fill with muddy torrents. Dormant cacti lazily bloom into fleeting flowers. June bugs come out of hiding. And the hills cupping beautiful colonial Oaxaca appear to have been painted, reupholstered, every ridge, nook, cranny, and ravine is blanketed in the soft green fuzz of life.

Rainy season may not be the ideal tourist season nor may it be all that spectacular to someone who is not intimate with deserts' nuances. However, to those who live here or to those who know desert locations, rainy season can feel like the unveiling of one of nature's most delicate masterpieces.

Colombia: a la orden

2007-05-22T17:49:00.000-06:00

When I was planning my travels this time around, I had an itching to see more than just Mexico. Being fluent in Spanish, I had logically decided to explore South America. My original plan had been to fly from Mexico to Peru, go to Machu Picchu, Bolivia, the Amazon, etc. However, as I was doing my research, I found so many gleaming reports about a less-traveled yet equally stunning country. Infamous, feared and often misspelled, people who had actually been to Colombia had only good things to say about their experience.

Shrouded in a 20 year old reputation for drugs, violence and civil unrest, Colombia does not find itself as a steadfast blip on the traveler's radar. South America is absolutely crawling with backpackers. As gigantic as South America is, many, many backpackers come and travel all around. Some start in Peru, others in Brazil or Argentina and start collecting stamps in their passports from there. This was one of the things that turned me off of my original plan of going to Peru. As I talked with more and more travelers, I found that the backpacker routes in South America are so heavily trodden that I realized I could see any of these countries at any age. While I am young and adventurous, I wanted to see a country that is not as easily accessible, not as well marked and possibly dangerous.

Aaaahhh, Colombia, sweet, gentle, misunderstood Colombia. The reality of life here in Colombia could not be further from the image of its reputation. In my two weeks of traveling around, I have never once felt like I was in danger. I have not heard any reports of massive violence, guerrilla attacks or coups. I have only seen cocaine once in a bar and was never offered it. I found Bogotà, the capital to be a clean, refreshing city and the Caribbean coast a warm and friendly place.

The people of Colombia are well aware of their reputation. They will tell you, as well, that ten years ago Colombia was a different place. Ten years ago, there was violence and less safety, but now, one can feel confident traveling around. The people are very friendly, tolerant and welcoming. They appreciate the tourism because it is a sign that there is no fear, that maybe they will one day escape their terrible reputation.

I have quite enjoyed my time here. This country has everything you could want. This place has all the sights one sees in Peru, Bolivia, Brazil, but in one country. There are snow-capped mountains, deserts, Amazon jungle, white sand beaches and ruins. Most people I meet do the four-day trek to Machu Picchu along with the millions of other people who visit it every year by train and even helicopter. Colombia has a breath-taking set of ruins as well called Ciudad Perdida. "The Lost City" is one of the most pristine archaeological ruins in the world. One can only reach Ciudad Perdida by hiking through the jungle. The trip takes five days and from what I hear, once you arrive, you have the entire ruins to yourself.

Through my travels, I have met a lot of people who are searching for the reality of places, "real Mexico", "real Peru", etc. I say if you want a "real" experience, go to Colombia. There are definitely people traveling here and there are touristy places, but Colombia is definitely not as heavily visited as other parts of South America. Colombia, known for its emeralds, is a gem itself. It is a lively place off the beaten track with music, dancing and warm invitations. It is also relatively safe. Robbery and petty theft arer obvious risks anywhere in the world and the same applies here. However, I have not heard any horror stories of muggings or anything happening here in Colombia. That does not mean that they don't happen. I am only saying that I have heard more horror stories about people traveling in Venezuela than here in Colombia.

Hostel Platypus Bogotà, Colombia, http://www.platypusbogota.com/

I stayed at Hostel Platypus my first time around in Bogotà. I followed the Lonely Planet's advice as well as the hostel's claim to be "the best hostel in South America". After staying there for five days, I can safely say it is not the best hostel in South America. Hostel Platypus has all the services a traveler could need: free coffee all day, laundry service, Internet, beer, phone service. German, the owner, also could not be more helpful or friendlier. While I was there, the hostel celebrated its birthday. There was free food, drinks and music.

The problem with Platypus is that the hostel occupies three separate houses on the same street. I was staying down the street from the main house. That was actually pretty cool. It is like living in your own place with a bunch of other people. The problem is that there is no hot water. In a chilly city like Bogotà, hot water is essential. The lower house also has a sitting room with a TV, but it is the most uncomfortable sitting room ever. Instead of couches or comfy chairs, there are wood chairs. One of the great things about hostel life is being able to hang out. Platypus is seriously lacking a good place to hang out, even in the main house.

Hostel Sue Bogotà, Colombia, http://www.hostalsue.com/

A great alternative to Hostel Platypus in Bogotà is right next door. My second time around, I stayed at Hostel Sue. Hostel Sue is also Colombian owned and has two separate houses to stay in. I stayed in the main house that was definitely more social and has hot water. The people who were staying at the hostel when I was there were more long-term travelers. Whereas at Platypus, there were a lot more people passing through, at Sue the people are staying around for longer.

The rooms are nice and it feels more like a home. It also has free coffee all day, FREE Internet, laundry service, etc. Hostel Sue also has a TV room with couches, which on a rainy day, like the day arrived, was a gift. It can be a little loud however.

Casa Viena Cartagena, Colombia, http://www.casaviena.com/

Casa Viena is probably the most popular hostel in Cartagena. It is often full and does not take reservations. If you show up and there are no beds, they will help you find other accommodation. The staff is very friendly and has a lot of information about the area. They can also help you arrange a boat from Cartagena to Panama. The dorm room is air-conditioned at night and they have private rooms.

Those, however are the only redeeming qualities of Casa Viena. There have to be better places to stay in Cartagena. Unfortunately, I did not have the time to go looking around for other places to stay. Casa Viena is cramped and hot. The location also leaves something to be desired. It is located a couple blocks outside of the Old City in sleazy part of town. I did not think the neighborhood was especially dangerous, but it is dirty and not beautiful. Also, while Casa Viena can organize a boat to Panama, this can also be easily done at the dock without their help.

La Casa de Felipe Taganga, Colombia, http://www.lacasadefelipe.com/

Hostel Platypus may claim to be the best hostel in South America, but La Casa de Felipe IS the best hostel in Colombia. This hostel also has all the services a traveler could ask or including breakfast service in the mornings. Breakfast does cost extra, but for a measly $5000 COP you get your choice o eggs, bread and good Colombian coffee. The staff is extremely nice and helpful. The grounds of the hostel are what set it apart from all other hostels. There are dozens of hammocks strung around four patios with plants an shade. There are dorm rooms an private rooms all reasonably priced. Also, although Taganga has been taken over my groups of Israelis, La Casa de Felipe does not attract many of them.

The only downside to La Casa de Felipe is that it is not located right on the beach. It is about a five minute walk uphill from the beach, but this is a small price to pay or the tranquil and splendid atmosphere. It is also fun to walk through town, saying "hi" to locals and getting to know more than just the beach. La Casa de Felipe does take reservations and they are recommended.

Colombia: en Tours

2007-05-22T11:11:00.000-06:00

As a solo traveler and without very much time, I left the comfort of being a traveler to become a tourist. With only two weeks in Colombia, I realized I had not given myself enough time to truly get to know and understand this dynamic and multi-dimensional country. I gave myself a week in Bogotà and a week to discover the Caribbean coast. My tour of the Caribbean coast included Cartagena, Taganga and Parque Tayrona. Cartagena was definitely the most touristy of the three because it is frequented by Colombians and foreigners a like. Taganga would be a close second. This small beach town has been overtaken by Israelis in the last four years and at certain times of year, tourists may out-number the locals. Parque Tayrona is a national park and is therefore only frequented by visitors.

In the interest of saving time and keeping myself on schedule, during my week on the coast I did two tours.

Volcan de Lodo el Totumo (Mud Volcano)
This was one of the places that I had read about before coming that I knew I wanted to visit. The Mud Volcano is located about an hour outside of Cartagena and was definitely worth the visit. Bathing in a cool mud pool that bubbles up from the ground is an unrepeatable experience. Supposedly, the mud bubbles up from a spot 2,300 meters deep. Over time, the mud has formed a small hill that you climb to sit in a man-trained "pool". Fortunately, the mud is not hot, it is actually quite cool.

Arriving at the volcano, we were instructed to strip down to our bathing suits and sandals and hand our cameras over to a local who's job is to take pictures of us covered in mud. We started our climb up the 200 ft pile of mud and at the top found about three Colombian men standing in the pool of mud waiting to give us massages. I climbed down the ladder into the mud and was told to lie back. The sensation of floating in thick, cool, grey mud is indescribable. Unlike in water, where you have to tense certain muscles to stay afloat, the mud just cradles you. After lying down, I was pushed over to a masseuse that completely covered me in mud. They start by covering the face to protect it from the sun. The massages are nothing particularly special, but they are relaxing.

After the massages, I just sat in the mud with the other people from the tour. When I first saw the pool and the masseuses, I didn't think that the pool was that deep. The masseuses were up to their shoulders in mud and I assumed that they had been standing. Once I was able to explore the pool on my own, I realized that they were floating, standing up. It was a surreal feeling. I could bounce up and down, but not sink. Later, talking with another traveler, we wondered what would happen if someone were to jump into the mud. Once submerged, would one be able to swim to the surface? Or would the mud just swallow a person?

None of us wanted to get out. It was fun just sitting there, but the feeling of mud weighing down my bikini bottoms was a little too similar to that of having had fecal accident. We all climbed down and headed to the lagoon to be washed off by local ladies. My idea of how this part of the trip was going to be was much more exotic than how it was. I had pictured a beautiful shaded lagoon and a more ceremonial washing. Instead, we were assigned a bathing lady and told to sit in the water as the ladies poured water over our heads. They did have us take our bathing suits off and washed them as well, but it took the lagoon bathing and at least two more showers to get rid of all the mud.

I had fun at the mud volcano, joking with the people there. It was fun to fake-throw mud at the clean people and dance around to shake off excess mud. The actual area around the volcano is very primitive. The bathrooms are outhouses and there are only two stands that sell drinks and snacks. There was no entrance fee either, however, none of the services are free. After you are rinsed, everyone who did something for you comes looking for a tip. I talked to some people who found this annoying and I agree to a certain extent. We were told the minimum to tip was $2000 COP ($1 USD), but I gave the masseuse, the camera man and the bathing lady each $5000 COP ($2.50 USD). The one tip that I thought was a little ridiculous was to the guy who held our sandals in a bag. I didn't give him as much as the others. It would probably be less annoyin and possibly more effective if they charged a flat rate for all the services and then divided up the day's profits.

Some people complain about giving these people money. Some people even complain about something as little as $2000 COP ($1 USD), which I will never understand. Driving to the volcano, the extreme poverty of the area was painfully obvious and here are Europeans, Americans, Israelis complaining about having to tip these people $1 USD vs. $2 USD and I just don't understand. I don't understand how people with money, with resources and privilege can justify denying others that live without.

The tour I did was with Casa Viena in Cartagena. You can reach the Volcan de Lodo on your own, which would be cheaper than doing the tour. I personally did not think the tour was worth it. It was nice to have an air conditioned van take me there and back, but the guide didn't give us any information and wasn't all that nice or friendly. However, the tour was convenient and economical.

Parque Tayrona

From Cartagena, I headed to the Caribbean sea. After asking around, I was told to go to a small fishing village called Taganga. Tanganga is about 15 minutes from the larger city of Santa Marta which is about five hours from Cartagena. People had warned me that the beach in Taganga was not spectacular, but the town was happening enough to give a solo traveler things to do at night. Taganga is also the jumping off point for the infamous Parque Tayrona.

Founded as a national park in the sixties, Parque Tayrona is 12,000 hectares of beaches and jungle. The entrance to the park is about an hour east from Taganga and easily accessible by public transportation from Santa Marta. From the entrance to the park, you have to walk about an hour to reach the first beach called Arrecifes and from there it is about a fifteen minute walk to each following beach. There are also horses available. Most people go to Tayrona and camp. There you can rent hammocks or tents and each little camping spot has a restaurant with food. I met a lot of people who had spent days and even weeks just hanging out and exploring the endless jungle and Caribbean beaches.

Due to a lack of time and the fact that I am traveling alone, I did not want to camp at Tayrona. I actually wasn't planning to go at all. I only had three full days in Taganga and I wanted to make sure that I got my beach time in. However, everyone was telling me how beautiful Tayrona was. More than one person claimed it was the second most beautiful beach in the world. This is quite the claim, but when I asked what the first most beautiful beach was in the world, no one seemed to know. On my last day in Taganga, I decided to go on a tour to Tayrona. I can see why people go and camp there because one day is not enough to see all the beauty in the park.

There were two things I really enjoyed about the tour. I originally had been dreading the hour and half walk through the jungle to get to the beach. It wasn't so much the walk itself, but the heat that pervades on the Colombian coast. It also seemed like a lot of wasted time, three hours total, that could have been spent tanning on the beach. The walk through the jungle was actually my favorite part. It was beautiful and it isn't that often that I get to walk through an actual jungle. The trail was easy with a few ups and downs, but nothing too strenuous. We had a guide who was an old guy from the area and I kept pestering for Colombian history, which he happily obliged.

The other aspect of the tour I enjoyed was the fact that I was the only non-Colombian in the whole group. I went to the park on a Sunday of a holiday weekend, so the Colombians were out vacationing in full force. Of the eighteen people in our group, I was the only whitey and the only single person. I don't think the other people really knew what to think of me at first. There was, of course, the question of whether or not I could speak Spanish, but when I was pestering our guide with questions, they all started to warm up. I ate lunch with a couple from the city of Medellìn. They convinced me that when I return to Colombia, the first place I should visit is Medellìn. The Colombians were from cities from all over and obviously had money. It was nice to see them out traveling.

The one part about taking tours that I don't like, however, is being on someone else's time-table. Having to adhere to a schedule is obviously intrinsic to touring, but it still bothered me. For one, the day we went was cloudy and as we ate lunch it started to rain. When the rain started, I wanted to go. All I wanted to do was sit out in the sun and swim, but with a cooling rain, those two activities were less than fun.

It ended up being fun anyway because I wasn't alone in the desire to go early. About twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet up to head back, a couple from Baranquilla started rounding everyone up. The lady told me that with the rain there was no point in being there and she was ready to head back to the bus. She took control and got everybody back on the trail. I was right there with her thinking, so I just got behind her and started walking. She booked back to the bus without looking back. We did the hour and a half walk back to the parking lot in under an hour. This lady wasn't fit, or skinny, she was just determined to get back to the bus. It was cool we talked as we huffed and sweated our buns off through the jungle. The rest of the group showed up a half hour later and were asking if we had ridden horses back. We just laughed and said we flew.

I definitely recommend Parque Tayrona as one of the spots to hit while traveling in Colombia. Just bring a friend, or lover, or group of people to have fun with.

Sudando en Taganga, Colombia

2007-05-19T15:05:00.000-06:00

I thought I knew what it meant to sweat when I went to Indonesia 7 years ago. I did a jungle trek in Bukit Lewang, Sumatra, Indonesia, to see the orangutans. I trekked through tropical rain forest, up and down hills and in all the pictures my skin gleams with perspiration. I could have sworn to you that I was sweating to the point where it ceased to be salty and all that dripped off my body was purified water. I never thought I would sweat that much again. I never thought I would experience heat like that, but then again, I never really thought I would come to Colombia.

Needless to say, it is hot in Taganga, Colombia. It's not so much an opressive, humid heat as a constant, unabiding characteristic of the place. One sweats just sitting still, swatting flies away from one's food or waiting for a cooling breeze. It feels good in a way, like a ritual cleansing. A heat like this is only bearable at the beach with the ocean only a few meters away.

I came to Colombia for only two reasons. One reason was to come to the Caribbean and the other was to dance. Aside from being known for their violence and cocaine, Colombia is also known as the cradle of Cumbia, as masters of Salsa, as a nation that dances. Colombia is a wonderful, peaceful, undiscovered jewel in South America. The people are friendly, warm and I hoped that in a small town like Taganga, I would find a small salsa bar and a boy to dance with.

When I first arrived, I went on the hunt. I was looking for Colombians my age to shoot the shit with, to show me around and to take me out. Immediately, en la calle, in the street, I found the artesans. Artesans are easy people to meet. They are usually hippies who like to hang out and have a good time. I met Yury, a Jesus-look-a-like hippy from Bogotà, Diego a quirky young kid from Medellìn, Andres from Bogotà and his Canadian girlfriend Crista. Crista has been volunteering here for five months and was my guide to the locals. She said everyone was really nice and going out dancing would not be a problem. I had asked Yury earlier if he knew how to dance, which he of course said he did, but that doesn't say much because no self-respecting Colombian man would answer "no". Crista confirmed though that Yury did like to dance and we made plans to go out the next night.

I had my doubts about Yury from the beginning. He is one of these super hippies. All he can talk about is spiritual, new-agey crap. He's the type that can't joke around. For example, he asked me how old I was and when I told him I was practically a grandma with my 28-year-old-almost-30 ass, he of course comes back with, "Age doesn't really matter because time doesn't exist. We are just big balls of light, blah, blah, blah." Don't get me wrong. I am just as spiritual as the next closet hippy, but he wasn't saying anything I didn't know already. It was the same crap about indigenous people and hallucinagens, the Mayan calender, minimalism and Carlos Castaneda. I only mention all this because Yury had sort of attached himself to me and was destined to be my dance partner. The more he bored me with his lack of humor and his philosophical mumblings, the more I began to give up hope of having a night of uninhibited movement and rhythm.

The night we went out, Yury, Andres, Crista and I went to the beach so they could drink before going out. Crista and Andres were busy being all cute and cuddly and I was stuck listening to Yury's wisdom. During the course of his sermon, he's all, "Oh by the way, I love to damce, but I am not an expert or anything. I mean, I know the salsa steps, but fancy turns are not really my thing. I just like to move to the music." This was a blanketed way of saying, "I don't know how to salsa dance." My heart dropped and I was ready to go home, disappointed and defeated.

Just as I was about to say my "Ciaos", however, quirky, crazy Diego showed up wondering where we all were. He was ready to dance he said. I told them that I was going to go home, that I didn't feel like going out. Yury, of course, gave some crap like, "Life is for enjoying the moment, the present." Diego just looked me straight in the eye and said, "If you come out, I promise you the first dance." I looked the kid up and down and gave him a look like, "Is that a threat or an honor?" He just met my eyes again and said, "I'm from Medellìn," like it was supposed to mean something. I later found out that it certainly did.

So, I went out with them to a bar called El Garaje which is actually an old, small parking lot tranformed into a cool little bar. The dance floor is under the thatched roof of a palapa and there are trees to sit under. As we walked up to the bar one song was ending as another one began. It was a classic, popular salsa number. Diego turned to me and offered me his hand, dragging me onto the dance floor.

The heat under the palapa was intense in a steamy, communal sense of the word. There weren't many people dancing, so Diego and I had plenty of room to move. Sometimes it's hard to find your rhythm with a new dance partner. Everyone has their own style and Diego and I fit perfectly together. All I wanted to do in Colombia was dance until my feet hurt, dance until the sun came up, dance like it was my last day on Earth and dance we did.

Within minutes we were drenched in sweat. It was almost difficult to get through the turns because our hands would slip, but we connected nonetheless, missing turns, but never missing a step. It was hot. Salsa dancing is so provacative. The woman always has to be ready to be led through the turns. The man guides her with soft touches on the shoulder, the arm, the small of her back. When the man turns, the woman's hands always have to be ready to held again, to be taken. I only noticed how wet we both were when he would turn and I would let my hand slide along his back as he came full circle. Salsa songs are also so long that just when you think you have a had enough, when the song slows to almost a whisper, the horns start up again into yet another creshendo. And all those bodies on the dance floor, especially in Colombia, where everyone knows how to dance, has an intoxicating effect.

I felt like a super-star, like a Latina, like I passed the test. Diego would only dance with me. At one point some other guy asked me to dance, but Diego immediately cut in and whispered that none of the other girls danced as well as me. Poor Yury was left alone with Crista and Andres. He would only get up and dance to the occasional reggae song. I was lucky Diego showed up or it would have been a short, sad night. At one point, a traditional Afro-Colombian Cumbia song came on, drums beating with typìcal call and response lyrics. Everyone started clapping and singing and swinging their hips. Dancing is an unbelievable therapy. It is a drug unto itself. By the end of the night I was soaked. I could not stop sweating. My skirt was practically falling off of me because of the weight of its wetness. Diego was the same and we would just keep giving each other slithery, slidy hugs.

I don't think I can ever go back to living in the States. I can't give up this heat, this machisimo, this electricity. Ladies, Latin America is where it is at to feel like a woman, to feel like you are alive and strong and beautiful. Latin America is passion and music and revelry. I don't think I can ever go back to white boys again. They are just not in touch with their passion, with their masculinity, with their base. Here, in the heat, in the freedom of poverty, I feel at home.

Morelia, Michoacàn

2007-04-24T15:35:00.000-06:00

Having spent a fair amount of time in Mexico City in one of the most popular hostels, I saw my fair share of backpackers come and go. As a seasoned backpacker well-versed in southern Mexico, I found myself giving a lot of advice, a lot of the same advice. It seemed that 95% of the backpackers I talked to were following the same route. They all wanted to know how to get from Mexico City to Oaxaca, then from Oaxaca to San Cristobal in Chiapas, on to Palenque and from there either to the Yucatàn or to Guatemala. Some of those headed south had come to D.F. from the north and had visited Guadalajara, Guanajuato, Zacatecas, etc., but most arrived in Mexico City and were immediately headed south.

It's not that I can blame them. Southern Mexico is spectacular. Oaxaca and San Cristobal de las Casas are two of my favorite places, but northern Mexico also has a lot to offer. Guanajuato, is one of the most breath-taking cities I have seen. It is also a young city, much like Oaxaca, and emits a certain electricity. Guadalajara is another northern city, as well as, Zacatecas that I have not visited myself, but have legendary reputations. Both those cities are high on my list of places to visit, however there was one city and state that I had been hearing so many good things about, they took priority. The state is said to be home of the most varied natural beauty in the whole country; untouched coast, mountains, lakes, forests, the migrating Monarch butterfly, and a charming capital that has been known to captivate.

Morelia is the capital of the infamous state of Michoacàn and it is where I have been exploring for the last week. This undiscovered gem of a city is definitely worth the visit, especially for those travelers who are seeking "real" Mexico, meaning some place off the tourist route. Morelia is definitely a middle class city, but the kind that will continue to be middle class whether or not you choose to visit it. Whereas it is evident in a city like Oaxaca how much its livelihood is dependent on tourism, Morelia goes on about its business. Walking down the streets here, no one cat-calls me, there are hardly any wandering vendors and only a few tourist-centered businesses. If you are seeking a truly Mexican urban experience that has not been diluted by tourism, Morelia is the place for you.

The city is centered, like most Mexican cities, around the Cathedral. The Morelian Cathedral, however, is a sight unto itself. The obsession the Spaniards had with building churches is unreal. Every Mexican city, town and village has at least one massive religious structure. The bigger the city is, the more churches it contains. The Cathedral in Morelia, for example, took over 150 years to build. It seems, though, that for fear of not having any place to worship during that century and a half, the Spaniards took it upon themselves to build a church on every block. This fascination with creating an endless array of sacred edifices is almost pagan in its zeal and is not unique to Morelia. It is no wonder that Mexican Catholicism and faith has a life and character all its own.

This particular Cathedral, however, is made of pink sandstone, sports 2 bell towers, a dome and an intricately decorated exterior that will keep you staring for hours on end. Every night at about 8:30pm, the building is illuminated and every Saturday the illumination is accompanied by fireworks. The Cathedral is not the only impressive architectural piece. Around every corner there is another relic, another artistic reminder of colonialism. It is absolutely amazing what the Spanish accomplished and built (on the backs of slaves) without steel, glass and technology.

I digress and apologize. It's just that Morelia has charmed me visually and has made me think about the history in this place. This walkable city is its own history lesson. There are also guided walking tours and trolley tours available at the Zocalo. A must do is a walk down to the Aquaducto at the end of Av. Madero. This is abeautiful part of the city with fountains, trees and a pedestrian walkway. Apart from the historical center, this would be another place to look for real estate.

Besides architecture, Morelia has a lot to offer. Centrally located, Morelia is 4 hours from the beach resort towns of Ixtapa/Zihuatenejo and the undiscovered Michoacano coast. It is also only 4 hours from Mexico City, 3 hours from Guadalajara and an hour or two from quaint little towns. Morelia also boasts an airport that receives direct flights from Houston, TX, via Continental Airlines.

I am actually surprised that Morelia has NOT been discovered in the same way that San Miguel de Allende or Lake Chapala has been discovered by retiring Gringos. Honestly, Morelia would be the absolute perfect place to retire. The weather is warm, but not too hot, and dry, but not a desert. The city accounts with all of the services a Gringo would want: good restaurants, Wal-Mart, affordable real-estate, movie theaters, coffee shops, and shopping.

There is no lack of things to do. Besides week-ends at the coast or in Guadalajara, from November to March, the Monarch butterfly reserve is open and hosts millions of butterflies. The cute, quiet lake town of Patzcuaro is always inviting and the lake itself is home to communities that are the true cradle of Day of the Dead celebrations. People actually come from far and wide on November 2nd just to see the cemeteries around the lake in all their splendor. Uruapan is another town that is less than 2 hours away that has a gorgeous national park and ancient ruins. Morelia is also hosting an LPGA championship this weekend, so there must be a golf course nearby. They have a professional soccer team as well.

I actually do not understand why anyone would retire to a place like San Miguel de Allende and not here. I met a Gringo and his son who recently bought a house here in the city. It is a 4 bedroom house located 5 blocks from the Cathedral with a front office space that is already being rented for $250 usd/month. We are talking prime, down-town real estate that needs a little work with a price tag of only $120,000 usd. It is truly a steal.

All that being said, I must say I am a little bored. Morelia's energy is a little more low-key than I would like. Places like Oaxaca, Guanajuato, Xalapa and San Cristobal attract a younger, hipper, more electric crowd. It's hard to explain, but the over-all ambiance of Morelia seems perfect for people of a certain age who want to be entertained, but in a relaxing way. There are definitely places to go out in Morelia and its peaceful vibe might have more to do with the lack of tourism than anything else, but it just does not have that "happening" feel. I do like Morelia though and feel it is only a matter of time before the snowbirds start taking notice.

All in all, if you are planning to explore northern Mexico, Morelia, Michoacàn, should definitely be on the itinerary no matter your age. This is the place for you if you are looking for something off the tourist path and if you want to experience that elusive "real" Mexico.

For the backpackers: I stayed at the lovely Hostel Morelia (Mariano Elizaga #57, www.hostelmorelia.com) It is only 8 months old and has not made its appearance in the Lonely Planet. It is part of Hostelling International and is very nice. The couple who runs the hostel is young, from Morelia and happy to give out any needed information.

Amistad

2007-04-22T19:57:00.000-06:00

Everything in life can turn into an addiction. There are things that are addictive by nature, like alcohol, drugs, sex and smoking. There are also very ordinary, everyday things that become addictions, like shopping, eating, watching TV, video games, love. As a Pisces, a dreamer and hopeless romantic, I am no stranger to addiction. Right now, my weakness, my quiet obsession is travel. I have been pretty much working and living to travel for the past three and a half years and I cannot imagine my life without it.

Lately, I have been questioned by friends of mine who don't travel, trying to understand this incessant need. Why? Why do I feel the need to be abroad, to move, to explore? Seriously, you can really only see so many ruins, museums and colonial churches before they lose their over all flair.

These past 2 weeks in Mexico City, I think I may have found part of the answer. Traveling for me is all about maintaining a social high. I love connecting with people from all over the world. I love living and loving fluently in another language. I thrive off cultural intimacy.
These past 2 weeks in Mexico City, I met a great little group of really exceptional people. I am not even sure if we are all that exceptional in our own right, but together we sure make one hell of a crew.
It's moments, however long or short, like these past 2 weeks in Mexico City, where the energy between people mingles in perfect harmony. It's those unrepeatable moments that just get me off.

I first arrived at Hostel Amigo at 7am on a cold dark Mexico City morning fresh from a 6 hour overnight bus from Oaxaca. I had boarded my D.F. bound bus at 12:30am the night before, the Wednesday before official Mexican spring break began. The bus station in Oaxaca had been packed to the point where one could hardly get to the buses. I felt sorry for everyone there. I could only imagine them on their crowded buses headed for Puebla, San Cristobal or the beach. I wasn't worried though. Just as I had suspected, there were only about 8 of us on our way to the big city, so we had the bus to ourselves. That's the trick of Semana Santa in Mexico. Don't go to the beach or any other tourist destination. Go to the big cities like Guadalajara or Mexico City. It's vacation time. Everyone leaves the cities.

Regardless of how much space you have on the bus though. Overnight buses are never refreshing. I arrived at the hostel groggy and went straight to my bed and slept. It wasn't until the next day, Good Friday, that I went to the bar, chatted it up with the hostel staff and noticed that the place had been overtaken by a group of Aussies. Now, don't get me wrong. Aussies do travel quite a bit, Asia, Europe, the States, but to have 20 or so random Aussies staying at the same hostel in Mexico City at the same time is quite the anomaly. Some would go and more would arrive so that for 2 weeks there was nice steady flow of Australians.

Everybody has their distinct travel style. I am more of a homebody traveler. For me, it's not about seeing as many sights as I can and then moving onto the next destination. I like to take my time in one place, get to know its idiosyncrasies and its idiots, for that matter. At Hostel Amigo, I met 2 Australians who shared my style.

Damien was ending his 3 month stint in Mexico, Belize and Guatemala by enjoying D.F. for a couple weeks. This was Damien's first trip away from Australia and he chose to come all the way to Mexico. His friends thought he was crazy to come so far and not speak Spanish. He said he couldn't have enjoyed himself more.

Nicole's trip to Mexico was a little more complex. She arrived Friday morning and was staying in my dorm room. Nicole went to Cuba 2 years ago and fell in love. She ended up marrying a Cuban and is in the process of trying to get her Cuban to Australia. The process is lengthy, bureaucratic and costly. Because getting residency in Cuba would hurt her husband's chances of escape, Nicole has to leave Cuba every 2 months. She comes to Mexico. Not only does she renew her her Cuban visa, but she shops. She buys razors, perfume, belts and license plate holders, smuggles them in to Cuba and sells them on the black market. I learned a lot about Cuba by hanging out with her.

Attracted first by our need for strong coffee, we would meet in the mornings at Starbucks. Nicole and I would go together and be joined by a sleepy-eyed Damien about a half-an-hour later. Other random travelers would come and chat, but the three of us became thick as thieves over hangover-curing lattes and hostel gossip.

One of the things that makes Hostel Amigo a great place to stay is their downstairs bar. Serving only beer and tequila to the guests, this is where even more friendships are made. The people who work at the hostel are also great people. Damien found his Mexican kindred spirit in one of the bartenders. Carlos is one of the lucky Mexicans who found his way to the US legally and even found himself a US passport. His impeccable English and his taste in rock music turned Damien into a fast friend. Carlos, Nicole and I became fast friends just because we were all cool in the same way. This is the beauty of traveling friendships. There are no pretenses and not a lot of time. Travelers are not weighted down by daily mundane tasks. People are more open to give and receive. Deep bonds are made as fast and lasting as unforgettable memories.

My original plan was to stay in Mexico City only for a couple of days, but the days and nights filled themselves with favors, drinking and conversation until weeks passed. I went shopping with Nicole to buy things for Cuba. I met other people with whom I went about exploring the city. Damien was enlisted to help Nicole with her largest purchase of perfume. He had the task of hauling the 50 kilos, literally 100 lbs, of perfume from the store to the hostel. Carlos had to help carry the suitcase up the stairs to our room.

Our nights were spent at the bar. On quiet nights, our crew would play cards or Nicole and I would dance salsa with Luis, Ariel, Javier, and Adrian, other hostel employees. We would talk about everything. Carlos even celebrated a birthday during this time. He unfortunately had to work the bar at Hostel Amigo's sister hostel, La Moneda. Hostel Moneda is not set up as well as Hostel Amigo and the bar is very boring. Damien and I brought him a cake and sat with him as he served the 4 customers of the night.

Not all nights were quiet, however. Like I said, the hostel was filled with Australians and Aussies certainly know how to party. For a couple of days, a group of 4 young Aussie boys were at the hostel. Two of them turned 21 a day apart. Those were two particularly wild nights at the bar. A lot of tequila was poured and beer bottles emptied. The bar was packed. As tight little cliques can be sometimes, the 4 of us wanted to experience the night together, so Carlos told us to come over to his side of the bar. Before we knew it, Damien and I were busy serving beers and taking cash.

Maybe it sounds silly, all of this love for fleeting moments of intimacy, but it really is a special feeling. I loved being behind the bar and working in unison with those 2 guys. I loved it that people actually thought I worked at the hostel and asked me how I got the job there. I served beers, gave travel advice and met a lot of people. Nothing becomes more clear when traveling than the fact that there are no coincidences. The simple fact that a certain group of individuals from distinct parts of the world end up in the same place at the same time is cosmic. Traveling also brings a certain sad truth to clarity as well unfortunately. The sad truth that all great things come to an end.

That is the constant of addiction, the constant high and low. The highest point of this binge came with Nicole's good-bye party. It was one of those nights where everything felt right and the love was flowing. Damien, Carlos and I were behind the bar. Nicole was on the other side of the bar doing what she loves, dancing salsa. There was a lot of hugging, kissing and giving thanks for having met people as cool as us. I don't want to get all New Age or anything, but it was one of those nights where the energy was pure, high and wholly positive. Everyone in the bar was present and exchanging ides and vibes. It was a great night that ended with Carlos telling Damien and I that the 3 of us had sold $4000 pesos worth of drinks, almost the highest amount of sales in the history of the bar.

Life is all about change though and nothing lasts forever. Nicole's good-bye party started the chain of good-byes. Even Carlos was planning his own good-bye party as he moves to the States to go to school. There always promises made when you give your farewells. There are promises to write, to visit, to never change. Sometimes these promises are kept. Sometimes they aren't and with these people, I can't tell you if I will ever see them again. This is when the high ends, the crash comes and traveling turns into an addiction. These moments of adios is when loneliness hits and the reality of travel appears. It makes me wonder. What is the definition of a "close friend"? What does it mean to be a "friend"? What does it mean to be "close"?

Chilangolandia y yo

2007-04-10T14:20:00.000-06:00

Ode to Mexico City, D.F. (day-efay)

I am no longer afraid.
This urban beast, the capital of my beloved Mexico, the virtually unavoidable axis used to intimidate me. It is enormous, dirty and dangerous.
But now, it is mine.

Mexico City is a cacophony of contradictions.
It is the capital of corruption and culture.
A city where education and ingenuity mirror a poverty of wealth, where Mexican affection rubs a rough urban edge.
D.F., the mega-complex, where EVERYTHING, ANYTHING and NOTHING happen all in the same momento, en una vez.

It has been called a parasite; sucking water, resources, clean air and people from far and wide.
It is the haven, they say, of crime, kidnapping and piracy. It is dirty, smelly and raw.

At the same time, it is a relic, a living museum, a defining piece of world history over 700 years old.
Mexico City, the center of two once great, prospering empires built one atop of another.
The Spanish smothering the Aztec.
Zocálo atop Plaza Mayor.
Cathedral atop temple.
Palacio atop palace.
Beautiful buildings built from bloodshed now sit sinking on their uneven foundations as the new Mexican market, the new Mexican empire struggles as it flourishes.

D.F. is a literal, metaphorical and physical feast for the senses and it is all about la venta, the sale.
The grey, smog-stained structures erupt with color at street-level: red, blue, yellow, green, a rainbow of tarps, umbrellas and make-shift markets.
You can buy anything in this city in a store or on the street, en la calle.
The street is usually quicker, cheaper and more crowded than the stores, anything you can think of and a couple of things you never imagined are pesos away and around every corner.

Silence is the only elusive commodity. Between car horns, whistles, cat-calls, sirens and sing-songy street vendors, "¡Apesoapesoapeso! ¡Barabarabara! ¡Paselepaselepasele!" hawking their wares.
One may think to escape to a church or cathedral to find a reverent noiselessness, but here in Mexico, faith and prayer have a permeating whisper all their own.

D.F. is fumes, food and sewer.
It is a place for the tolerant and the forgiving.
Mexico City must be forgiven for its filth and feo-ness, so it may be awed and admired for its pride and grace.

I have come to love this megalopolis. It is not as dangerous as everyone says.

Mexico City is fun, welcoming and easy. The list of things-to-do can go on forever.

The Metro is well-organized and extremely easy to use. Be smart, skeptical, yet trusting of taxis.

Remember a lot of life is about luck and horror stories are usually just that...stories.

STAY at Hostel Amigo (www.hostelamigo.com) it is a wonderful hostel with lovely common areas, TV, bar and pool table. There is also a nice hotel next door to Hostel Amigo called Hotel Isabel. They have private rooms with TV and a shared bathroom for $140 pesos a night. If you can stay there you can still hang out in the bar at Hostel Amigo. It is very fun.

Also, at the Zocálo, next to the cathedral is a Tourist Information booth. They speak English and have all kinds of free maps, including a color Metro map.

There is so much to do in Mexico City you may actually want to come back for more in spite of itself...pinche ciudad desmadrosa y hermosa.

I HEART D.F.

Tepito, el Dulce Gigante

2007-04-10T14:14:00.000-06:00

In a city as big as Mexico, D.F., there is certainly not a lack of things to do. The city is full of Museums, colonial buildings, ruins, parks, delegations, and of course, markets. Every street corner, in fact, can become a market at any moment. These "markets" are usually inhabited by vendedores ambulantes who are sellers with no license to sell and are usually selling pirated goods or knock-offs. Just walk down the street Moneda next to the Palacio or down the street Donceles and turn left on Rep. de Argentina to see two of the most persistent and easily accessible "black markets".

I am actually not sure if these two spots are official market sites. In both cases, you will find actual stalls, structures, but you will also find people just setting up tables on the sidewalks. It may be that the stalls have permits to vend, but the ambulantes are the sidewalk dwellers. The other day, I was looking at CD's on the sidewalk when suddenly a cascade of whistles could be heard moving down the street. Looking in that direction, I saw a wave of vendors hurriedly packing up their goods and a policeman in the distance. The guy with the CD's looked at me and told me to wait a minute while he too began packing up. I told him I would come back, which I did, 15 minutes later and I bought 2 cumbia CD's.

Mexico City also has official markets happening all over the city. Many of the markets have designated days. For example, the delegation of Coyoacan has a Saturday market. My favorite market is on Sundays and it is walking distance from the Centro Historico. It is called Lagunilla.

Lagunilla is the bohemian market. It has a little bit of everything, but is more eccentric. There are antiques, jewelry, funky T-shirts, Indian wares (from India), tarot card readers, and clothes. It is quite a large market that is fun to look around even if you don't need to buy anything.
To get there from the Zocalo: go up 5 de Mayo, turn right on Rep. de Chile and keep walking, you will run right into it.

As I have said before, Mexico City has everything, including contradiction and synthesis.
No market anywhere captures the spirit of the vendedor ambulante and a corrupted officiality like the infamous Mercado de Tepito.

I DO NOT, I repeat, I DO NOT recommend that just any ol' backpacker or tourist goes to Tepito. I went to Tepito knowing full-well what I was getting myself into and I went with the utmost respect for its reputation and the reputation of the people who live there.

Tepito is a living legend. It is the toughest, most feared delegation in all of Mexico City and mainly because of the market that operates there 6 days a week.

Tepito is THE black market of Mexico. They say if you lose your passport, or it gets stolen, it ends up in Tepito with a price tag of $5000 USD. If you want a gun, go to Tepito. If you want a diploma saying you're a doctor, drugs, exotic animals...go to Tepito.

Now, Kike used to take me to Tepito and I have never seen any of the above contraband. I don't even know where it would be. I mean, I am sure it is there and the market itself is a GIGANTICALLY HUGE labyrinth of stall after stall after stall. Most people go to Tepito to get more basic things, like movies, CD's, clothes, electronics, cook-ware, make-up, shoes, etc, all of which have "fallen off the truck" so to speak. The police are constantly doing early-morning raids on Tepito to try to put an end to piracy, but they are never successful. A day later, the market is up and running again and just as packed as the day before.

Obviously, due to the nature of merchandise and the kind of business conducted in Tepito, it has a dangerous reputation. Kike always made sure I was respectful and aware of the risks of going to the market. I never thought of ever braving Tepito by myself until I met Nicole.

Nicole is a nice Australian girl living in Cuba who is staying at my hostel. Since Cuba is communist and what-not, Nicole comes to Mexico to do her shopping. We have talked quite a bit about our fondness for travel, Latin men and Mexico, so it was more of an honor than a surprise when she asked me if I was up for an adventure.
She asked, "On Monday, would you like to go to Tepito with me? I have never been, but I would like to go."

We both giggled excitedly at the idea of it. Big, bad Tepito, the barrio of myth and legend, were we brave enough to do it?

I wouldn't have ever braved it alone and I would not have gone with Nicole if she weren't as street smart as she is nor if she didn't speak Spanish. So, I decided, what the hell?

Monday morning, we woke up and headed to Starbucks. Yes, that's right Starbucks. Hey, I like good, strong coffee and it is hard to find in Mexico. Also, I would like to add in my and Starbucks defense, they only serve shade grown organic coffee from Mexico. Regardless, I bring it up more because I think it is funny. We may be the only two people to ever go from Starbucks to Tepito in one day.

Well, we went, nervous and giddy the whole way. The whole experience was actually very nice. Not many people were there because it was the Monday after vacations and we took all the precautions. Our money was stashed all over our bodies, we put on our hardest faces and always watched each other's backs. All in all though, the experience was as anti-climactic as this e-mail will be.

People were actually nice to us. One lady selling movies was fascinated that we even knew about Tepito and told us we would always have a friend to visit when we came. I mean, imagine you were in South Central, L.A., or Compton, and people actually invited you back.

The moral of the story is, I guess, not to go to Tepito because it is wonderful. The moral of the story is more that there are a lot of horrific stories that circulate about people, places, and things. I hear them all the time from travelers and non-travelers alike. The fact of the matter is that people generally are good people. Everyone is similar in that most people just want to love and be loved. While bad people do exist, they are not the majority.

We, as Americans, have been taught to fear the unknown. Horror stories circulate about everything. This place is dangerous, that place is dangerous, people do this, people do that. In the end, the majority of stories are just stories. People have so many bad things to say about Mexico City as well. Don't take taxis, don't walk around at night, don't take the Metro. The fact of the matter is that bad things happen everywhere and there is no one place where bad things happen every moment of every day. Life should be about adventure and fear only keeps us from living a full life. So, while respect should always be paid to the reputation of a place, NEVER, judge a place on reputation alone.

Go. Explore for yourself. Just remember to be smart, aware and informed.

VISIT OAXACA

2007-04-03T11:04:00.000-06:00

Today is a beautiful day. Every afternoon or early evening it has been raining, so while it is hot, there is a nice cool breeze.

I think this is my fifth or sixth morning following the same routine. I get up and head for the coffee shop in the Zocalo. For about an hour, I drink coffee, read or write and then head next door for breakfast. I know the breakfasts are more expensive around the Zocalo, but I love watching the action; the shoe-shiners setting up their posts for the day, old men reading newspapers, the sound of the marimba, the balloon vendors. Mornings in the Zocalo aren't exactly exciting, but there is an intangible charm, a charisma that brings a smile to my face.

Oaxaca is alive again.

So, you can imagine the urgency I felt to write this entry when I read the local newspaper. There was an article about how the head of Oaxacan State Tourism is begging the US ambassador to Mexico to lift the travel warnings against Oaxaca. I actually just looked at the current travel warnings and I did not see a warning for Oaxaca, however, if any one reading this blog has any doubt about the state of affairs in this wonderful vibrant city, I am here to set you straight.

Oaxaca is back to a point where I don't feel like I ever left. Every Sunday, the Zocalo erupts with live music, kissing couples and families. All the stores are open as are the restaurants and museums. Even the European tour groups can be seen following their tour guides little red flag like confused children. In fact, since El Conflicto, there are more new hotels, bars and restaurants replacing the ones who could not stay in business before. The bar scene is also up and running again with more bars to circulate through.

I think I had forgotten during my time in San Cristobal how deep my connection with Oaxaca is. There are quite a few foreigners of all ages who choose to call this city home. With that said, the Oaxacans themselves are so accepting (and tolerant) that most personal interactions are a pleasant experience. Really, I cannot describe how happy it makes me to see the city free of graffiti and full of laughter.

I will end this entry with a few suggestions of things to see and do in Oaxaca for the next time you visit.

Sights within Oaxaca city-limits:

The ice cream market in front of the church called La Soledad on Av. Independencia. Here you can try sorbets in variety of flavors, both standard and exotic, in a nice shady plaza.

The carne asada market located in the building behind the Mercado 20 de Noviembre. The smell of barbecue smoke may be a little over-whelming, but it is worth it. Here, in a long and skinny hallway you can eat the most authentic carne asada in possibly the entire country. Don't miss the roasted onions and fresh tortillas.

The Friday Tianguis one block from El Llano. A tianguis is a sort of flea-market where anything and everything can be sold. The one on Fridays in Oaxaca is very eclectic.

San Felipe del Agua. This is a nice park/nature reserve with waterfalls. During the driest season (March-May) the falls might only be a trickle, but the park is still a nice natural get-away in the middle of town.

Lastly, if there is one day-trip that I can recommend doing during a visit to Oaxaca, it would have to be visiting Hierve El Agua. All the tour companies in the city offer tours to this amazing natural phenomenon. Although the name translated in to English is "Boil the Water," Hierve el Agua is not a hot spring. Set high in the mountains, it is a cold spring that at one time produced large waterfalls that have since petrified down the cliff-side. What is left is a series of natural pools that culminate in one big pool that is literally a natural infinity pool. Once again, I recommend NOT going during the driest season (March to May).

There are a plethora of places to stay in Oaxaca and the city can accommodate everyone from a backpacker on a budget to the 5-star socialite. If you have any question about where exactly to stay, just leave me a comment and I'll try to give you a recommendation.

Xalapeños hasta el M.A.X.

2007-03-23T10:16:00.000-06:00

Xalapa, Veracruz, Mexico
Hostal La Niebla

In my 2 years of travelling around Mexico, Xalapa was a city I always wanted to visit. Located in the oil-rich state of Vercruz, Xalapa is in the mountains and is home to a very prestigious university. I had always heard good things about the city. I had heard it was always bursting with activity, the climate was cool and the atmosphere was young. I have to say I was not disappointed.

First, let me alleviate any anxiety that may arise around the pronunciation of a word that begins with the letter "X". Xalapa can also be spelled Jalapa and in Spanish "J's" sound like "H's". In fact, the jalapeño pepper comes from Jalapa, well, at least the name does. So, Xalapa is pronounced, "Ha-La-Pa".

Xalapa is about 5 hours east of Mexico City and 2 hours northwest of Veracruz, Veracruz. The only downside to Xalapa is that it does not have an airport. However, both the airport in Mexico City and Veracruz have direct transportation to Xalapa through the company ADO. It is unfortunate that Xalapa is not easily accessible by air. Obviously, for the backpacker type, having or not having an airport is somewhat irrelevant, but for the 4 or 5 star traveler, it may seem like a long way to go.

I actually can't say that I got to see very much of the city, but what I did see I liked. Xalapa is very green and it boasts a lot of parks. The Zocalo itself has a lot of trees and is perched on top of a hill so you get a nice view of the city. Below the Zocalo is a man-made lake with a path around it where you don't even feel like you are in a city. As I sit picturing Xalapa right now to describe it, all I can see are trees.

I had also gone to Xalapa to catch up with a friend of mine that I had met earlier in my travels. We met at a cafe in the late afternoon and he took me for a tour. There were so many people in the streets and vendors that I thought there was something special going on, like a Fiesta or Festival or a Saint's Day. My friend told me that Xalapa was always like that, always teeming with life. I do have to say that the city had somewhat of a congested feeling to it, which is normal for most Mexican cities, but like I said there are so many large parks to escape to.

I did not get to spend very much time in Xalapa. The one place I decided to see, however, absolutely blew me away: el Museo de Antropologia de Xalapa (MAX). Now, as far as anthropology museums go, the museum in Mexico City is supposed to be like Louvre of anthropology museums. I have never seen the one in Mexico City myself because you supposedly need 2 days to see it all, but the one in Xalapa was impressive.

It is small and you would only need about 2 hours to take it all in. The museum is surrounded by a nicely maintained and landscaped green area and some of the artifacts are housed in mini-arboretums inside. The focus of the museum is on the pre-Colombian/pre-Hispanic people of Veracruz. If you had asked me before to name any of people who had lived in Veracruz before the conquest, I wouldn't have had the slightest idea. As it turns out though, one of the more famous indigenous groups called this region home.

The museums pieces are arranged chronologically beginning with the oldest artifacts. So, the first thing you see is a large Olmec head. For all you Simpsons fans out there, you will recall that Mr. Burns gave Homer an Olmec head once as a gift. Apparently, the Olmecs are from Veracruz and there are about 10 of these giant heads in the MAX. The Olmecs are the oldest group in Mexico reaching their height B.C. The Olmecs then gave birth to the rest of the indigenous groups of Mexico including the Mayans and Aztecs.

Apart from the Olmecs, the MAX showcases about 6 other indigenous groups and their art is unbelievable. There are jade masks, jewelry in a variety of materials, tools and statues. The statues are by far the most breathtaking. I can't remember the names of the groups who made them, but that makes them almost more spectacular. The statues are made of clay, in some cases, not stone and are more or less in tact. They range from being a foot tall to almost a meter tall and the detail is unreal. In one room, there are these statues and they are all of women. Each women is unique and is adorned with different headdresses.

I am not going to describe every little thing that was in the MAX because it is definitely a sight to see especially for any anthropology enthusiast. The only down-side is that all the written information is in Spanish, but the museum does offer an audio tour in English.

Sorry for not being able to give more insight into the city itself, like with places to stay or to eat. I guess if I wanted to get anything across about Mexico through this blog is that Mexico is so much more than just beaches and Spring Break. Mexico is a culturally rich country with a complex and proud history. I think it is because of this that the people are so fascinating and fun-loving.

Traveling in Chiapas

2007-01-06T16:04:00.000-06:00

Of the thirty-one states in the Mexican republic, I have had the honor of visiting ten (and the Distrito Federal). The one state, however, that has captured my heart for the moment is definitely Chiapas.

The state of Chiapas as a whole is unique and diverse both culturally as well as naturally. It is the southern most state on the Pacific coast and shares its borders with Guatemala, the states of Oaxaca, Veracruz, among others and is a stepping stone for visiting the popular Yucatan Peninsula. Chiapas is home to the Mayan people, their ruins and the revolutionary army the Zapatistas (www.ezln.org). The only remaining tract of tropical rain forest in North America is found in Chiapas as well as animals such as macaws, jaguars, tapirs and more. One can go from uninhabited coast to humid jungles to cool mountain villages in a matter of hours. Chiapas is an amazing place to go to see the "real" Mexico, not the beachy, spring break Mexico. Mexico finds some of its deepest roots in this exquisite and undiscovered southern region. Since Oaxaca is currently suffering from civil unrest, Chiapas makes a great and safe alternative.

Places of interest are San Cristobal de las Casas, the Mayan village of San Juan Chamula, the ruins of Palenque, and the Caribbean-like waters of Agua Azul. All of these places are very safe. You should not have the slightest worry about walking around San Cristobal, even at night. Obviously, using common sense always applies. No one should ever walk on a lowly-lit street at 3 o'clock in the morning with money falling out of their pockets, but generally the people are very friendly.

So, in the following posts I will offer a 7 night/8 day itinerary for visiting Chiapas. I understand that there are many different levels of traveling in terms of budget, so the first post will be for 2-3 star travelers and the second will be for 4 star travelers. They will be titled accordingly. The main difference between the two will be my suggestions for lodging and the means of transportation.

2-3 Star Itinerary for Chiapas

2007-01-06T16:02:00.000-06:00

For the 2-3 star travelers, I have one suggestion for transportation: Taxis when convenient, but mostly walking and buses. The bus system from state to state is amazing in Mexico. The first-class buses are deluxe and do not cost very much more than the second class buses. The bus stations are easily managed even without speaking Spanish and it is a great way to travel like the majority of Chiapans.

Taxis are abundant all throughout Chiapas (except maybe in Palenque) and are very cheap. There are no meters, you pay one flat rate for the ride. The prices range from $1.80 to $3.50. Never pay more than $4.00 for a cab ride around town. The capital of Chiapas, Tuxtla, is the only city where cab fare varies only because of the size of the city. Taxi drivers will charge you more if you are riding outside of town and this can usually be negotiated.

DAY 1: Tuxtla Gutierrez to San Cristobal de las Casas

Although the modern, new airport in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Chiapas claims to be an international airport, at this time it is not. This is not a big problem. You will just have to fly into Mexico City and change planes to arrive in Tuxtla. Mexicana Airlines, which is affiliated with American Airlines, flies many times daily from Mexico City to Tuxtla. The flight time between Mexico City and Tuxtla is about 1 hour and 15 minutes.

The airport has recently been relocated to sit in between the capital city and the wonderful, magical mountain town of San Cristobal. San Cristobal is one of the major tourist destinations in the state. It is a charming, cool, colonial city that will capture your heart form the start. San Cristobal is about a 45 minute car ride from the airport.

Grab a taxi. This is the only way to get to San Cristobal (from the airport) if you have not rented a car. The taxi ride costs about $10-$12, but this is split among all the passengers. If you see other foreigners on the plane, see if they want to split the fair.

You don't have to fly to Chiapas, obviously. You can also get there by bus from Mexico City or Oaxaca or the Yucatan, etc. Bus fares will vary, but from Mexico City, the travel time is about 14 hours and the fare is around $70. Take the overnight bus. I suggest buying some Dramamine, or other motion sickness medicine, falling asleep and waking up in San Cristobal. The bus station in San Cristobal is located on the main drag, Insurgentes. You can pick up a taxi to your hostel or walk.

Hostels: San Cristobal for some odd reason has too many hostels. Not all of them are nice places to stay, but here are some suggestions.

Posada Mexico Josefa Ortiz de Dominguez & Madero HI affiliated Dorm & private rooms available
This is by far the best budget place to stay in San Cristobal. Breakfast is included.
Backpackers Hostel Real de Mexicanos #16 Dorms, camping & private rooms available.
Also a nice place to stay with hammocks and a grassy central area. No breakfast.
Magic Hostel Guadalupe Victoria #47 Dorms available.
The party hostel. Loud and rambunctious is its reputation.
Casa Margarita Real de Guadalupe #34 Private rooms only.
This is a quiet centrally located hotel with reasonably priced rooms and free Internet.

Restaurants: There is a plethora of restaurants in San Cristobal. The city is not known for exquisite dining, but virtually all of the restaurants offer good food. As you walk around town for the next few days, experiment with restaurants you find along the way. Here are some suggestions.

Madre Tierra Insurgentes #19 Serves good, local coffee, homemade bread, quiches, soups and great breakfasts.
Emiliano's Moustache Rosas #7 Tacos, carne asada, and combos plates are standard at this popular spot.
El Gato Gordo Real de Guadalupe Artsy atmosphere serving typical Mexican food such as enchiladas, etc.
Mayambe Real de Guadalupe #66 Serving food from all over the world, this restaurant has a great reputation.
Cafe Museo Cafe MA Flores #10 Serving local, organic coffee, this is the best breakfast place in town.

For a more local fare:
All the eateries situated around El Mercado de Artesanias on Insugentes across from Madre Tierra are excellent and will not make you sick.
If you are especially adventurous, try any of the eateries located inside El Mercado Municipal Utrilla.

Day 2: San Cristobal de las Casas

After breakfast, there is only 1 task that you must accomplish before starting the day's activities. You must make a reservation at Casa Margarita Real de Guadalupe #34 for their tour of the Mayan village San Juan Chamula. I HIGHLY recommend taking this tour. The English-speaking guide is a sociologist/anthropologist and is an expert in modern Mayan life. You can go see this village on your own, however, the information provided by the guide is exceptional. It may seem pricey, but it is worth every centavo. The tours leave everyday form Casa Margarita at 9am and return around 1pm.

A small note about San Cristobal: The center of town is the Zocalo (the main plaza). The street names change as they pass through the Zocalo e.g. Insurgentes becomes Utrilla.

Now for the list of sights to see. I will suggest a loose itinerary, but all activities may be done at your leisure:

Na Bolom Guerrero #33 www.nabolom.org English tours at 11:30am and 4:30pm
This museum used to be home to a Swiss woman and her Danish husband. They were two of the first white people to live in Chiapas and developed a very close relationship with the Mayans living in the Lacandon jungle. The hacienda is filled with photos and artifacts and also serves as an institute of Mayan study.
I suggest taking a taxi to the museum (as it is about 1km from town) to catch the 11:30am tour and then walking back.

Santo Domingo Plaza on the corner of Calle Comitan & Utrilla
Santo Domingo is a large Cathedral just north of the center of town. The plaza is used as an artisan market where Chiapan as well as Guatemalan wares may be found. Anything from table runners to leather, sweaters to jewelry, this is the best place to buy souvenirs. You may also go into the cathedral, which was built between 1547 and 1560. In the adjoining building is the showroom for a Mayan women weaver's cooperative. It is called Sna Jolobil.
To get there from Na Bolom. Turn left out of the museum and walk to Calle Comitan. Turn right on Calle Comitan and walk until you hit the plaza and the back of the church.

El Andador 20 de Noviembre
From the entrance to the cathedral, turn left and walk down the street. El Andador, or walking mall, begins about a block down. Showcasing shops, Internet cafes, bars and restaurants, this is good place to buy postcards, develop pictures or grab an empty bench and people watch.
A great store to visit just to look is Casa de Ambar, the first amber jewelry store on your right. Amber, or fossilized tree resin, is found in Chiapas. I suggest only buying amber from the stores to assure it's authenticity. Casa de Ambar, in particular, has a great selection and a little museum of amber in the back which is fascinating.
Also take notice, as you walk down El Andador, of the bar La Revolucion. Starting at around 8pm, they have a great little jazz band that ends at around 11pm. On the next block is another fun bar whose name keeps changing. at the time of this post it is called Salon Mundial and is a late-night party spot. Any of the restaurants down this street are also good places to eat.
Be warned...Mayan women will approach you and try to sell you things. repeating "No, gracias." will likely get them to leave you alone. Children will also approach you begging for money. DO NOT GIVE THEM MONEY. A lot of times adults are forcing these children to beg. If you would like to help them, buy snacks at any of the convenience stores around town to carry with you and hand out to the children. This helps them much more than giving them money. Also, may I suggest bringing pens and little notebooks with you to hand out to the children. These children are very poor and may not have access to school supplies.

This list of sights may take you the whole day or it may not. If you have time left, I suggest just walking around and getting lost. At the end of El Andador is the main plaza and the Zocalo. Here, you will find a tourist information booth where you can pick up a map of San Cristobal, if you did not already find one.

Day 3: San Juan Chamula & San Cristobal

From 9am to about 1pm or 2pm, you should be enjoying the wonderfully informative tour to San Juan Chamula.
When you get back from the tour, you will probably be hungry. You will be dropped off at Casa Margarita on Real de Guadalupe. Before leaving to get something to eat, ask the travel agent at Casa Margarit about leaving for Palenque the next day. If you have rented a car ask them for a road map and directions. If you did not rent a car, ask about private transportation to Palenque.

Do not stray far from Real de Guadalupe to eat.
The Cerro de Guadalupe is a great place to get a panoramic view of the city and is topped by the Virgen de Guadalupe church. Walking up Real de Guadalupe on your way to the church, don't miss all the lovely shops, especially Nemizapata (#45). This is a store dedicated to the EZLN. This is a revolutionary group of indigenous Chiapans more commonly referred to as Zapatistas. They were once a violent rebel group, but have since turned to more non-violent political means of change. Nemizapata is store selling crafts and paraphernalia made by and supporting the Zapatistas.

Take your time walking up the hill. Make sure you have your camera. You have the rest of the day to stroll around, people watch in the Zocalo or shop.

Day 4: Arrive in Palenque

Palenque is a magical ancient Mayan city located in the jungle about 5 hours from San Cristobal. By far one of the best places to see evidence of the ancient Mayan way of life, you will not want to leave the tranquility offered by the jungle setting.

**If you do not have a lot of time for this trip, I highly recommend renting a car in San Cristobal to go to Palenque because it is much easier to visit the waterfalls of Agua Azul with your own car. You can rent a car from Budget or Optima Mazariegos #39 in San Cristobal. If you do not have any time constraints, then don't worry. You will just have to spend an extra night in Palenque.**

Head to the bus station on Insurgentes, locally known as Cristobal Colon and grab your Palenque bus. Definitely take this trip during the day as the road is very curvy and it is difficult to sleep on an over-night trip.

Once you arrive in the unimpressive town of Palenque, grab a taxi to your hotel. You can walk up the street from the bus station to grab a collectivo headed toward the ruins and jump off at your hotel, but I recommend just grabbing a taxi. It doesn't cost that much more and is a lot more convenient. The best places to stay while visiting the ruins are on the road to the ruins. The jungle is breathtaking, but don't be alarmed when you hear the low guttural cries of the howler monkeys. Just follow the sounds and look up to find the small black creatures in the trees.

Hotels: there are two really great picks that always have openings.

Mayabell Carr. Palenque-Ruinas km 6 mayabell82@hotmail.com Cabanas and Rooms $6-37
This is by far one of the best places to stay in Palenque. It is the last accommadations before hitting the ruins. The jungle setting caters to all levels of travel. The cheapest level is renting a palapa as well as a hammock and sleeping in el aire fresco. Mastering comfort in the hammock is in art form, but it is an awesome experience. There is a pool and a very good restaurant.
El Panchan Carr. Palenque-Ruinas km 4 elpanchan@yahoo.com All levels of accomodations $2-13
Located just outside the entrance to the "official" park, this is one of the larger, more hippy-esque places to see. The restaurant serves great food and has entertainment every night. It a little loud and very popular.

As far as eating, I recommend eating at your hotel and really relaxing, taking in the natural beauty. Get a good night sleep because you will want to wake up early the next to see the expansive ruins before the day gets too hot.

Day 5: Palenque Ruins

Today is the day you are going to see the mystical Mayan city. Wake up early, eat breakfast and make sure you have water because the jungle can get hot. Plan to be at the ruins between 8am and 9am in order to beat the heat. Bring your camera.

Catch the Volkswagon buses a.k.a. collectivos that go up and down the road every ten minutes and cost about 3 pesos to take you up to the ruins.

Once at the ruins find a guide. The beauty and grandeur of Palenque is best appreciated with a guide. Mexico has strict standards for archeological guides and most of them are very passionate about their jobs. The earlier you get up to the ruins, the better of a selection you will have. One requirement the Mexican government has for guides is that they speak English, but have a conversation with your guide of choice to make sure you can understand them. Soem guides also speak Italian, French and German.

I have had two guides at Palenque and both are very good. The best guide is Edgar. If you are staying at Mayabell, Edgar sometimes comes by the restaurant in the evening looking for people to do a tour the next day. The other is Raul who wears glasses. There is no way to contact either of them other than trying to find them at the park, but both speka impeccable English. It doesn't matter though, I would say that 90% of the guides at Palenque are really good at their jobs. Prices for the guides can vary a little, but I would say $50 will get you an excellent 3-4 hour tour. Prices are for the group, not per person. So, you can find some people where you are staying who want to split the price of a guide.

After the ruins, get some water and maybe a little snack from the outside vendors. Head down the road a little ways to the museum. At this point, you may be tired, but the museum is definitely worth the visit and it is air conditioned. It houses all the little artifacts and art from the city.
Then go back to your hotel, change your clothes and grab something to eat. You have only one thing you have to do before you can relax. You have to go into to town and sign up for a tour to Agua Azul and Misol-ha. There is a plethora of travel agencies in town that have tours to these waterfalls. The only down-side to the tours is that you are not on your own time schedule. Also you can buy your bus ticket for the day after back to San Cristobal.

Tonight, if you are not staying at El Panchan I suggest eating dinner there. This is a legendary travelers compound that has a good restaurant with live entertainment. Don't be afraid to walk on the road at night. Many people do it and I have not heard of any incidents. Remember, thoguh, that there is always safety in numbers, so if you want to round up other travelers to head down there...go ahead.

Day 6: Agua Azul

If you are taking a tour to Agua Azul have fun it takes the whole day. You will also be spending an extra night in Palenque, so the rest of the itinerary will just be delayed by a day.

If you rented a car:
Start heading back to San Cristobal and about an hour from Palenque you will start seeing signs for Agua Azul. You will probably have to pay twice to get into the park-once to the people of the nearby village and once to the park itself-but it is worth it. Agua Azul is a series of turquoise waterfalls littered with natural swimming pools. (Note: during rainy season, May-September, the water will not be turquoise.) This is a popular destination on week-ends and there is a plethora of good places to eat along the river serving mostly fish.
Once you park your car, walk up the trail, taking pictures along the way, until you get to the top of the hill. Here you will find a great swimming hole with a make shift diving board. Common sense says not to linger in too isolated of a spot as to this makes you more vulnerable to theft.

Take your time enjoying this heavenly spot. Just remember that you still have a 3 hour drive back to San Cristobal and you do not want to be driving too much at night. There are bathrooms and showers at Agua Azul where you can change out of your swim suit for the ride back.

You will probably be very tired arriving in San Cristobal. Return your car and stay where you stayed before. Eat and sleep because your vacation is almost over.

Day 7: San Cristobal

Well, maybe it is your last full day in Chiapas, so take your time to take it all in one more time.

You have two choices of things to do. You can have a lazy day in San Cristobal. You can go to an Internet cafe, send post cards, write in your journal, and go see:

El Mercado Municipal. Head up Insurgentes/Utrilla, past Santo Domingo until you reach the busy, hub-bub of the market place. This is where the majority of people in San Cristobal go to buy fruits, vegetables, meat, housewares, fire wood, among other things. It's a pretty chaotic place. The large building to the left of the outdoor section of the market is where meat is sold. Go ahead, walk around, but be careful. The outdoor section of the market is a maze. Don't get lost!!

Jardin de Orquideas. Real de Guadalupe #153 Hours: 10am-6pm Tue-Sun
This is an orchid garde that is very pretty and serene.

Or you could take a tour:
Sign at a travel agency for the Cañon Sumidero tour and to the charming little town of Chiapa de Corzo. It is located on the Rio Grijalva where one can take a river boat tour of the Cañon Sumidero. The boat tours down the river are very nice, the only downfall is that most of boats are not covered and the sun is intense. Makesure you have a nice hat, it is cloudy, early in the morning or late enough in the afternoon. Chiapa de Corzo is a quaint little town to walk around and grab a bite to eat on one of the restaurants on the river bank.

There are also horse-back riding tours to San Juan Chamula. I know you already went there, but if you want to ride a horse, this is the destination.

You will also have to arrange transportation to the airport if you are flying home. At the time of this posting, the only way to efficiently reach the airport was to arrange for a private ride with any of the travel agencies. This is a little pricey, but the only way to go.

Day 8: Return home or move on

Well, I hope you enjoyed your time in Chiapas. If you are moving on to another spot in Mexico, you remember where the bus station is. Also, on Real de Guadalupe you will find a place called Ticket Bus. Here, you can buy tickets to any of the destinations serviced by San Cristobal. The prices are the same as they would be at the bus station.

4 Star Itinerary for Chiapas

2007-01-06T12:58:00.000-06:00

For the 4 star travelers, I have two suggestions for transportation:

1) Renting a car. The airport in Tuxtla Gutierrez (the capital of Chiapas) has just recently been relocated and remodeled and is fully equipped with rent-a-car companies such as Alamo and Hertz. All reservations can be made via the web-sites of these companies. The majority of cars are stick-shift, but automatic cars are available at a higher price. Also, make sure your car has I do recommend obtaining a map and having a basic knowledge of Spanish. It will be extremely helpful in obtaining directions, finding parking or in case of any emergencies.
You can also rent cars in San Cristobal at Budget Rent-A-Car or Optima (011-52-967-674-09, optimacar1@hotmail.com) both located at Mazariegos #39. It is a little more expensive than renting in Tuxtla and they do not have cars with automatic transmission. However, it may be worth your while to rent your car here instead of Tuxtla because you really don't need a car during your time in San Cristobal.

2) Hiring a car. Now, by hiring a car, I mean, taking taxis everywhere and taking advantage of the infinite amounts of travel agencies that are available. Taxis are abundant all throughout Chiapas (except maybe in Palenque) and are very cheap. There are no meters, you pay one flat rate for the ride. The prices range from $1.80 to $3.50. Never pay more than $4.00 for a cab ride around town. Tuxtla, is the only city where cab fare varies only because of the size of the city. Taxi drivers will charge you more if you are riding outside of town and this can usually be negotiated.

So, here we go:

DAY 1: Tuxtla Gutierrez to San Cristobal de las Casas

Although the modern, new airport in Tuxtla claims to be an international airport, at this time it is not. This is not a big problem. You will just have to fly into Mexico City and change planes to arrive in Tuxtla. Mexicana Airlines, which is affiliated with American Airlines, flies many times daily from Mexico City to Tuxtla. The flight time between Mexico City and Tuxtla is about 1 hour and 15 minutes.

The airport has recently been relocated to sit in between the capital city and the wonderful, magical mountain town of San Cristobal. San Cristobal is one of the major tourist destinations in the state. It is a charming, cool, colonial city that will capture your heart form the start. This is where you will be spending a couple of days. San Cristobal is about a 45 minute car ride from the airport.

Pick up your rent-a-car and drive to San Cristobal. Once you arrive in San Cristobal, you most likely will be tired and hungry. Here are my suggestions for accommodations as well as near-by eateries. OR
Grab a taxi. This is the only way to get to San Cristobal (from the airport) if you have not rented a car. The taxi ride costs about $10-$15, but this is split among all the passengers. If you see other foreigners on the plane, see if they want to split the fair.

Hotels: These are all very well decorated, hacienda-style establishments. All include private parking, restaurants, bars, and are located near the center of town. Make your reservations for 3 nights. You can also make reservations for the night that you return from Palenque.

Hotel El Cerrillo Belisario Dominguez #27 011-52-967-678-1283 Rooms w/ 1-2 beds f0r $23-28/$36-39
Hotel Mansion de los Angeles Madero #17 hotelangeles@prodigy.net.com Rooms for $37-42
Hotel Casa Mexicana 28 de Agosto #1 www.hotelcasamexicana.com Rooms for $67-118
Hotel Diego de Mazariegos 5 de Febrero #1 011-52-967-678-0833 Rooms for $64-74
Holiday Inn see www.holidayinn.com for details

Restaurants: There is a plethora of restaurants in San Cristobal. The city is not known for exquisite dining, but virtually all of the restaurants offer good food. As you walk around town for the next few days, experiment with restaurants you find along the way. Here are some suggestions.

Madre Tierra Insurgentes #19 Serves good, local coffee, homemade bread, quiches, soups and great breakfasts.
Emiliano's Moustache Rosas #7 Tacos, carne asada, and combo plates are standard at this popular spot.
El Gato Gordo Real de Guadalupe Artsy atmosphere serving typical Mexican food such as enchiladas, etc.
Mayambe Real de Guadalupe #66 Serving food from all over the world, this restaurant has a great reputation.
Cafe Museo Cafe MA Flores #10 Serving local, organic coffee, this is the best breakfast place in town.

For a more local fare:
All the eateries situated around El Mercado de Artesanias on Insurgentes across from Madre Tierra are excellent and will not make you sick.
If you are especially adventurous, try any of the eateries located inside El Mercado Municipal Utrilla.

Day 2: San Cristobal de las Casas (leave your car at your hotel and enjoy walking in this beautiful city)

After breakfast, there is only 1 task that you must accomplish before starting the day's activities. You must make a reservation at Casa Margarita Real de Guadalupe #34 for their tour of the Mayan village San Juan Chamula. I HIGHLY recommend taking this tour. The English-speaking guide is a sociologist/anthropologist and is an expert in modern Mayan life. You can go see this village on your own, however, the information provided by the guide is exceptional. The tours leave everyday form Casa Margarita at 9am and return around 1pm. The concierge at your hotel may be able to make reservations for you.

A small note about San Cristobal. The Zocalo (main plaza) is the center of town. The street names change as they pass through the Zocalo e.g. Insurgentes becomes Utrilla.

Now for the list of sights to see. I will suggest a loose itinerary, but all activities may be done at your leisure:

Na Bolom Guerrero #33 www.nabolom.org English tours at 11:30am and 4:30pm
This museum used to be home to a Swiss woman and her Danish husband. They were two of the first white people to live in Chiapas and developed a very close relationship with the Mayans living in the Lacandon jungle. The hacienda is filled with photos and artifacts and also serves as an institute of Mayan study.
I suggest taking a taxi to the museum (as it is about 1km from town) to catch the 11:30am tour and then walking back.

Santo Domingo Plaza on the corner of Calle Comitan & Utrilla
Santo Domingo is a large Cathedral just north of the center of town. The plaza is used as an artisan market where Chiapan as well as Guatemalam wares may be found. Anything from table runners to leather, sweaters to jewelry, this is the best place to buy souvenirs. You may also go into the cathedral, which was built between 1547 and 1560. In the adjoining building is the showroom for a Mayan women weaver's cooperative. It is called Sna Jolobil.
To get there from Na Bolom. Turn left out of the museum and walk to Calle Comitan. Turn right on Calle Comitan and walk until you hit the plaza and the back of the church.

El Andador 20 de Noviembre
From the entrance to the cathedral, turn left and walk down the street. El Andador, or walking mall, begins about a block down. Showcasing shops, internet cafes, bars and restaurants, this is good place to buy postcards, develop pictures or grab an empty bench and people watch.
A great store to visit just to look is Casa de Ambar, the first amber jewelry store on your right. Amber, or fossilized tree resin, is found in Chiapas. I suggest only buying amber from the stores to assure it's authenticity. Casa de Ambar, in particular, has a great selection and a little museum of amber in the back which is fascinating.
Also take notice, as you walk down El Andador, of the bar La Revolucion. Starting at around 8pm, they have a great little jazz band that ends at around 11pm. Any of the restaurants down this street are also good places to eat.
Be warned...Mayan women will approach you and try to sell you things. repeating "No, gracias." will likely get them to leave you alone. Children will also approach you begging for money. DO NOT GIVE THEM MONEY. A lot of times adults are forcing these children to beg. If you would like to help them, buy snacks at any of the convenience stores around town to carry with you and hand out to the children. This helps them much more than giving them money. Also, may I suggest bringing pens and little notebooks with you to hand out to the children. These children are very poor and may not have access to school supplies.

This list of sights may take you the whole day or it may not. If you have time left, I suggest just walking around and getting lost. At the end of El Andador is the main plaza and the Zocalo. Here, you will find a tourist information booth where you can pick up a map of San Cristobal, if you did not already find one.

Day 3: San Juan Chamula & San Cristobal

From 9am to about 1pm or 2pm, you should be enjoying the wonderfully informative tour to San Juan Chamula.

When you get back from the tour, you will probably be hungry. You will be dropped off at Casa Margarita on Real de Guadalupe. Before leaving to get something to eat, ask the travel agent at Casa Margarita about leaving for Palenque the next day. If you have rented a car ask them for a road map and directions. If you did not rent a car, ask about private transportation to and from Palenque.

Do not stray far from Real de Guadalupe to eat.
The Cerro de Guadalupe is a great place to get a panoramic view of the city and is topped by the Virgen de Guadalupe church. Walking up Real de Guadalupe on your way to the church, don't miss all the lovely shops, especially Nemizapata (#45). This is a store dedicated to the EZLN. This is a revolutionary group of indigenous Chiapans more commonly referred to as Zapatistas. They were once a violent rebel group, but have since turned to more non-violent political means of change. Nemizapata is store selling crafts and paraphernalia made by and supporting the Zapatistas.

Take your time walking up the hill. Make sure you have your camera. You have the rest of the day to stroll around, people watch in the Zocalo or shop.

Day 4: Arrive in Palenque

Palenque is a magical ancient Mayan city located in the jungle about 5 hours from San Cristobal. By far one of the best places to see evidence of the ancient Mayan way of life, you will not want to leave the tranquility offered by the jungle setting.

If you have reserved private transportation to Palenque, just sit back and marvel in the natural beauty.

If you are driving, be careful on the curvy mountain roads and also be careful of the TOPES or speed bumps along the way. You will encounter them entering and leaving any populated area.

On the way, you can stop to eat in the town of Ocosingo and you can also take a short side trip to see the ruins of Tonina. Follow the signs to this lightly visited set of ruins. They are not as large or impressive as Palenque, but they are beautiful in their own right. The best part is you will most likely have the ruins all to yourself to enjoy.

Once you arrive in the unimpressive town of Palenque, follow the signs towards the ruins. The best places to stay while visiting the ruins are an the road to the ruins. The jungle is breathtaking, but don't be alarmed when you hear the low guttural cries of the howler monkeys. Just follow the sounds and look up to find the small black creatures in the trees.

Hotels: there are two really great picks that always have openings. Make your reservations for 2 nights.

Mayabell Carr. Palenque-Ruinas km 6 mayabell82@hotmail.com Cabanas and Rooms $16-37
This is by far one of the best places to stay in Palenque. It is the last accommadations before hitting the ruins. The jungle setting caters to all levels of travel. There is a pool and a very good restaurant.
Chan-kah Resort Village Carr. Palenque-Ruinas km 3.2 www.chan-kah.com Rooms/Suite $105/263
It has a wonderful swimming pool and lush jungle gardens. It includes all the services.

As far as eating, I recommend eating at your hotel and really relaxing, taking in the natural beauty. Get a good night sleep because you will want to wake up early the next day see the expansive ruins before the day gets too hot.

Day 5: Palenque Ruins

Today is the day you are going to see the mystical Mayan city. Wake up early, eat breakfast and make sure you have water because the jungle can get hot. Plan to be at the ruins between 8am and 9am in order to beat the heat. Bring your camera.

The ruins are at the end of the road where you are staying and there is a parking lot. Do not worry about theivery. Most likely a young boy will direct you to a parking spot and promise to watch your car. All he expects in return is 10 or so pesos when you get out. You can also buy him a cold drink. Remember the nicer you are to locals, the nicer they are to you.
If you do not have a car, Volkswagon buses go up and down the road every ten minutes and cost about 3 pesos to take you up to the ruins.

Once at the ruins find a guide. The beauty and grandeur of Palenque is best appreciated with a guide. Mexico has strict standards for archeological guides and most of them are very passionate about their jobs. The earlier you get up to the ruins, the better of a selection you will have. One requirement the Mexican government has for guides is that they speak English, but have a conversation with your guide of choice to make sure you can understand them. Soem guides also speak Italian, French and German.

I have had two guides at Palenque and both are very good. The best guide is Edgar. If you are staying at Mayabell, Edgar sometimes comes by the restaurant in the evening looking for people to do a tour the next day. The other is Raul who wears glasses. There is no way to contact either of them other than trying to find them at the park, but both speka impeccable English. It doesn't matter though, I would say that 90% of the guides at Palenque are really good at their jobs. Prices for the guides can vary a little, but I would say $50 will get you an excellent 3-4 hour tour.

After the ruins, get some water and maybe a little snack form the outside vendors. Head down the road a little ways to the museum. At this point, you may be tired, but the museum is definitely worth the visit and it is air conditioned. It houses all the little artifacts and art from the city.
Then go back to your hotel, change your clothes and relax. Lounge by the pool, take a little stroll through the jungle, take a siesta...you're on vacation!!!
If you did not rent a car, you may want to go into to town and arrange for your transportation back to San Cristobal. There are many travel agencies in town on the main drag. Tell them you want to go to Agua Azul and then San Cristobal in the same day.

Tonight, you can either eat at your hotel or go to El Panchan Carr. Palenque-Ruinas km 4.4. This is a legendary travelers compound that has a good restaurant with live entertainment.

Day 6: Agua Azul to San Cristobal

Today's activity is the main reason I strongly suggest renting a car. On the way back to San Cristobal, you will be visiting the Caribbean-like waters of Agua Azul.

Start heading back to San Cristobal and about an hour from Palenque you will start seeing signs for Agua Azul. You will probably have to pay twice to get into the park-once to the people of the nearby village and once to the park itself-but it is worth it. Agua Azul is a series of turquoise waterfalls littered with natural swimming pools. (Note: during rainy season, May-September, the water will not be turquoise.) This is a popular destination on week-ends and there is a plethora of good places to eat along the river serving mostly fish.
Once you park your car, walk up the trail, taking pictures along the way, until you get to the top of the hill. Here you will find a great swimming hole with a make shift diving board. Common sense says not to linger in too isolated of a spot as to this makes you more vulnerable to theft.

Take your time enjoying this heavenly spot. Just remember that you still have a 3 hour drive back to San Cristobal and you do not want to be driving too much at night. There are bathrooms and showers at Agua Azul where you can change out of your swim suit for the ride back.

You will probably be very tired arriving in San Cristobal. Eat and sleep because your vacation is almost over.

Day 7: San Cristobal to Chiapa de Corzo

Well, it is your last day in Chiapas, so take your time to take it all in one more time.
You can have a lazy morning in San Cristobal. No matter what check-out time is at your hotel, most hotels let you leave your bags at the front desk until you want to leave. You have one last sight to see before saying good-bye to San Cristobal.

El Mercado Municipal. Head up Insurgentes/Utrilla, past Santo Domingo until you reach the busy, hub-bub of the market place. This is where the majority of people in San Cristobal go to buy fruits, vegetables, meat, housewares, fire wood, among other things. It's a pretty chaotic place. The large building to the left of the outdoor section of the market is where meat is sold. Go ahead, walk around, but be careful. The outdoor section of the market is a maze. Don't get lost!!

Now for the remainder of the day there are two choices of activities depending on which mode of transportation you selected.

If you rented your car in Tuxtla:
Head back to Tuxtla at your leisure. On the way, about 30 minutes before arriving in Tuxtla, there is the charming little town of Chiapa de Corzo (follow the signs). It is located on the Rio Grijalva where one can take a river boat tour of the Cañon Sumidero. The boat tours down the river are very nice, the only downfall is that most of boats are not covered and the sun is intense. Unless you have a covered boat, a nice hat, it is cloudy or late enough in the afternoon, I would not recommend taking a boat tour. However, Chiapa de Corzo is a quaint little town to walk around and grab a bite to eat on one of the restaurants on the river bank.

If you did not rent a car:
You can spend the remainder of the day and one more night in San Cristobal. In one of the many travel agencies, you can arrange for private transportation to the airport the next day, if you do not have a very early flight.
OR
You can arrange for a private car to take you to Chiapa de Corzo.

Hotels in Chiapa de Corzo: Since the relocated the airport, staying in Chiapa de Corzo makes the most sense and there is one great hotel with parking and a swimming pool.

Hotel La Ceiba. Av. Domingo Ruiz #300 (2 blks west of the plaza) 011-52-961-616-0773 laceibachiapadecorzo@hotmail.com Rooms $42-47

Day 8: Return home

From Chiapa de Corzo, you are about 30-45 min from the airport. The hotel can get you a taxi if you did not rent a car.

I hope you enjoyed your time in Chiapas.

Chamula y Tuxtla

2007-01-06T12:20:00.000-06:00

13 May 2005

I am still in wonderful cool, crisp San Cristobal, Chiapas, Mexico. This is Mayan country and the state used to be part of Guatemala, but somehow Mexico got it. it is a state rich in resources. It has jungle, pine forest, tropic plains, and water, water, water. This has to be the most valuable resource they have considering the majority of the country is suffering from shortages. All in all, Chiapas is a beautiful place and I have gotten to know a few parts of it well in the past couple of weeks.

The first place (outside of San Cristobal) that i got to know is a community called San Juan Chamula. This where I went on the horseback riding tour, but the place was so interesting and my guide so inept, that I went back with a guide who is an anthropologist/sociologist. San Juan Chamula is an amazing place where the Mayan spiritual traditions are very much alive. The women and the men still wear the traditional outfits...heavy wool skirts and tunics with embroidered blouses. The main attraction of San Juan Chamula is the church. Like every other populated area in Mexico the center of town is the catholic church, but unlike every other town, the catholic church in San Juan is anything but catholic.

There are three green crosses outside that are adorned with flower garlands. These crosses are the same crosses that the Spanish found when they came to conquer the people. I would be really interested to know what the Spanish thought when they saw these Mayans praying to a cross. According to my guide, they thought that the conversion process would be easy. All they had to do was put a Jesus on the cross and ya...however it wasn't that easy. The crosses mean something totally different in San Juan and other similar communities. The Mayan people pretended to accept Catholicism. It was kind of easy for them. The saints that the Spanish brought coincided with the deities they already had as did the cross. They pretended to be praying in the catholic way, but instead kept with their own traditions. They hid statues of their deities inside the statues of the saints and built the church. Today, the church does not hold mass and does not have a resident priest. A priest comes from San Cristobal like three times a year to do baptisms and that's it.

The inside of the church is always packed with people. The walls are lined with statues of saints and the floor is covered with candles and offerings...sodas, flowers, poche, eggs, incense, chickens. People kneel in front of the saints chanting their prayers, sometimes with a Mayan priest sometimes not. The church is a sacred place where the people come to do ceremonies...they ask for protection, health, love, fortune and they tolerate the streams of tourists that come in to watch. I wish I could have taken a picture, but it is forbidden inside the church. It was an amazing thing to see...everything on the outside looks so catholic, but everything else even down to the position of the saints in the church is so Mayan. It was awesome.

The other thing that San Juan Chamula has that no other town has is poche. Poche is Mayan whisky and is made from corn and caña, which is sugar cane I think. It is totally a bootleg, moonshine type of whiskey. Where as mezcal from Oaxaca has competing labels and such, poche is only sold in reused water bottles without labels. It tastes exactly like whiskey and I will definitely bring home a bottle or two for all you scotch/whiskey drinkers out there.

It rained yesterday in San Cristobal hard for about an hour. it's funny how amazing rain can be. Even here in San Cristobal where it is chilly and fresh, the rain comes and purifies the air. but, it's in the really hot, land-locked places of Mexico where the rain really is a god send; in places like Oaxaca, Palenque and Tuxtla.

We're now in the part of the story where this white girl tourist strayed from the tourist route and got to know Tuxtla...the hot, hot, hot capital of Chiapas. It's funny because San Cristobal is cold most of the year and Tuxtla is only an hour away, but it is hotter than hell.

So, I met a boy in San Cris, a really nice, cute, artisan boy who makes jewelry and sells it in the market. He asked me out one night and I said yes and now we are dating. His name is Kike (pronounced Kee-kay) and he is tall with long curly hair, dark skin, piercings and tattoos...just my style. He is from Tuxtla, originally, and is also a soccer fanatic. well, fanatic may be too strong of a word, but he loves the sport. After about a week of hanging out in San Cris he asked me if I wanted to go to Tuxtla with him to meet his mom, go to the annual fair and catch a real live professional futbol match. I said, "simon, ese."

Now, a little bit about Chiapas's futbol team, Los Jaguares. at the end of every season here in Mexico, the last place team falls back down to the minor league and a team rises to the professional level. Los Jaguares rose up to the professional level two years ago, so their fan base is very loyal, large and enthusiastic. Even though at the end of this season (the quarter finals are tonight) Los Jaguares finished 14th out of 18 teams, everyone is proud that they weren't last.

Going to the soccer game was a blast. We sat with Kike's banda in the section for all the cheerleaders. There were flags, streamers, drums and songs throughout the entire game. They sang songs that came with dances. They ran around in circles. They drank and of course shouted obscenities at the visiting team. It was awesome and Kike lent me his Jaguares jersey so that i was wearing orange because you can't got to a game without wearing orange. Los Jaguares ended up losing, but they were playing a team that is in the finals, so it's not that sad.

That night we went to the city fair and i got to see another totally Mexican event...the Lucha LIbre. I don't know how many of you are familiar with it, but it is the Mexican version of WWF, but the wrestlers wear elaborate outfits and masks. The match is officially over when one team de-masks their opponent. It is exactly like WWF, fake and ridiculous, but once again I was the ONLY white girl for meters and surrounded by Mexicans screaming obscenities. also very fun.

The most important part of the Tuxtla adventure was going to see Kike's house and meeting his family. He has two sisters, three nieces, two nephews and a mom. His dad died four years ago. It was interesting because whereas in Guatemala I got to see rural poverty (that wasn't that extreme), in Tuxtla I got to see urban poverty. Now, I have no idea what images are running through your heads when you read "urban poverty Mexico" because it isn't that bad. Kike's family is definitely not lacking for any of the basics. They have electricity, cable, cel phones, a steady supply of water, nice clothes, but they live in a semi-dangerous barrio, definitely don't have cars and don't think about traveling. I was welcomed with open arms even though they couldn't quite grasp the fact that I spoke Spanish. They kept asking Kike questions about me and he kept responding, "I don't know. Ask her. She speaks Spanish."

I think the family liked me because they kept asking me when Kike and I were going to get married. One afternoon his mom made me get drunk with her and some of her friends. During that time she introduced me to the lady who would preside over our wedding and another lady who would be the godmother to our children. Kike and I just laughed. I ate a ton of REAL Mexican food. Lots of shrimp, soups, chili, chicken liver (which I didn't eat) and I was almost served tripas which is cow intestine, but we left for San Cristobal before that blessed event. It was a really enriching experience. As Kike said, I got to see how the "normal" Mexicans live and they got to meet and get to know a real, bonafide gringa. It was fun.

Oaxaca...Antes. Pt. 1

2006-12-16T09:20:00.000-06:00

January 17, 2005-February 17, 2005
So I have arrived in wonderful, beautiful, magical Oaxaca and I now know why I felt the need to come back. The bustling city, so noisy and full of stories and life. I can only compare the architecture and general feel of the city to those of Europe that I haven´t seen myself...the colonial buildings and lack of skyscrapers...aaah...but this Mexican city has that congeniality and amazing happiness that only the underlying poverty can bring. It is absolutely amazing how bright a smile can be on a sun-browned wrinkled face that has known nothing but hard-work.

I am staying at a hostel I stayed at before and I am speaking primarily Spanish everyday. I really like the hostel. I love the boys and 1 Mexican chica that run the place. They are all so nice and welcoming. I have also already met three women who are all traveling alone...1 German and two gringas. They will be here for varying amounts of time, but I am excited. My Spanish is getting better and better as is my salsa dancing.

Other than that, I am excited for when my gringa friend Maria comes to visit, but right now I am pretty tired after dancing the night away last night and then going out for late-night tlyudas (Oaxacan style pizza-mas o menos)...

...Well, I have survived another week and half in sunny Oaxaca. I feel like I have done so little and so much at the same time, that I don't even know where to begin. It all still seems like such a dream. I hope that when Maria comes, her presence from my "real life" will bring this whole Mexican experience more into reality.

Pues, I have just gotten to know the city more and more. I have found a school that has meditation, yoga and astrology classes at night and I have also been taking Spanish lessons. I think I may be settling down here. The people I live with are great...there is a German/Mexican couple in particular that have become my good friends. The girl is German and the guy is Oaxacan and we just speak Spanish all the time. I like the hostel a lot because the laid back atmosphere attracts people who come to Oaxaca to stay for awhile so the scene is not as transient as it has been in other hostels.

Anyway, a week ago a group of seven of us all went out to a little town in the mountains for an adventure that none of us will forget. We were two German girls, two Mexican boys and three Gringas and we all went to do a temescal. A temescal is the ancient, indigenous form of a sauna and is said to have curative properties for both the body and the soul. We went to a town called Capulapan and stayed the night at a health center where they do massages, births with midwifes, herbal cleansing as well as the temescal. All of of got a massage as well as a "cleansing" which involved being swatted with herbs and then rubbed down with an uncracked egg. After being rubbed down with the egg, the woman cracks the egg into a glass of water and tells you what ailments she can see. It was crazy because as we each went into the room one by one and not one of us had a physical ailment. We all were confronted with whatever demons we are facing at this point in our lives. The cleansing is what began the rest of the battle.

Our intention was to the temescal that night which means that you can not eat for two hours before going in so you don't get sick. However, after trying to heat up the temescal ourselves two times, we realized that we may have to wait until the morning to have a really hot temescal. So we all stayed up that night playing cards and laughing deliriously all wishing that we had some food to eat before going to bed. Pues, the next morning we woke up and the temescal had already been prepared and we all jumped in. Remember we haven't eaten anything substantial for about 18 hours.

Well, when most people stay in the sauna for two hours, 15 minutes passed before Lalo looked at all of us and said, "I think we need to get out here."

The difference in temperature between the inside of the temescal and the outside is quite shocking and one by one as we exited we all started fainting. It sounds a lot worse than it actually was. The fact that we all cuddled up into the same bed...all 7 of us and basically slept away our delirium along with the rest of the day. It was this amazing bonding experience that when we returned to the hostel and were asked how it was, Lalo responded by saying, "We are all warriors that have returned from battle."

Other than that...I have just been dancing the week-ends away. Now, I am just waiting for Maria to come. I am pissed though because she was supposed to come in today, but her flight got cancelled and she can't get in until tomorrow. Pinche United!!!! But, we have a big two weeks planned. We are going to go out into the mountains with a Mexican friend of mine and then do some shopping and sight-seeing in the city the next day. Then off to the beach for at least a week I imagine. We'll get back to Oaxaca in time for a concert by Lila Downs who is supposed to be fantastic and the concert has already practically sold out.
I am so excited...

Oaxaca...Antes. Pt. 2

2006-12-16T09:17:00.000-06:00

February 18, 2005-March 23, 2005
The time passes in Mexico strangely...at times the days seem to escape me, night falls fast and I realize i haven't done anything. but, like now, i realize two weeks or more have passed and so much has happened, yet it feels like yesterday.

So, where to begin...I'll begin with the arrival of Maria. My friend Maria came to visit for two weeks and it was so nice to finally share this mexicana part of my life with someone who knows me and understands me in the American part of my life. I was excited to bring these two worlds together and I knew that my friends here would love Maria instantly and they did.

Maria and I stayed in Oaxaca for a couple of days. The first day she was here, a friend of mine, Anuar, took us on a tour to a place called Hierve el Agua. It is about an hour and a half by car and usually people bus it out there. Luckily we had Anuar in his decked out Neon that he races annually in a road rally from Oaxaca to the coast. So, maybe the trip actually takes 2 hours by car when a professional racecar driver isn't driving. It was absolutely gorgeous driving out to Hierve el Agua, up and up into the mountains. Hierve el Agua means "the water boils" and it is called that not because the water is hot, but because it is a spring that bubbles up from the cliff side. This little park consists of an amazing set of petrified waterfalls that hang down the cliff side and a set of blue green pools, which are fit for swimming. The location is unreal. The biggest and deepest pool is set in a way on the cliff that when you are swimming in the pool it appears as if the water extends to and falls off the edge. It was a gorgeous day and we were practically the only people there so we swam and sunned ourselves.

The next day or two we spent shopping and walking around the city. Mexican time is really contagious because although I had a list of sights to see and things to do everyday, only about half of everything got done. But I guess in Mexico life isn't about efficiency and deadlines, it is about living, loving and experiencing life. We spent time in the market looking for leather and other wares and We spent the time talking to the vendors, developing a relationship so we became more than just two gringas looking to buy. We gained their respect as well as a fair price. Both Maria and I bought beautiful hand-made leather purses, each for under twenty dollars and we ate ice cream in the ice cream market and saw a few churches.

After all was said and done, we were off to the beach with two French girls and an Australian. We went to beach town called Mazunte, which is exactly that, a town that is the beach. There is one road in Mazunte that has a few stores on it and restaurants, but the main area is the beach. We stayed in a little palapa run by a Mexican family who's matriarch we lovingly called "Big Mama". In Mazunte there is no reason to leave your palapa or the 50 meters extending to the water in front of your palapa. Our cabana overlooked the mighty Pacific and we fell asleep every night to the waves crashing onto shore. I unfortunately got sick in Mazunte (from heat stroke and not bacteria) so I slept for about two days, but I still got a pretty good tan. There is not much to say about our trip to the beach. The only big decisions that had to be made were whether or not to wear sandals down to dinner, or to change out of our bathing suits, or to put on more sun screen. Here again, we would just pass the time making friends with the beach vendors or with the people who worked at our palapa.

Unfortunately, the beach time could not last forever and we had to head back to the city, not just Oaxaca, but the gigantically huge Mexico City. we had been planning to get into Mexico City and have a day and a half to the sights, but our last night in Oaxaca we met two unbelievably funny Canadians who kept us up until 4 in the morning crying from laughter. But such is the life of a traveller...that night was our only night with the boys because they left the next day, but Maria and I missed our bus and ended up taking an overnight bus to the big, bad city.

i must admit, although I am from Chicago, which is a pretty big city itself, Mexico City intimidates me. It is incomprehensible in size and everyone has heard at least one horror story of robbery or kidnapping. It wasn't that bad. We were only there for one day, but we stayed right by the government palace and had a good time. We saw the amazing Diego Rivera murals inside the palace and the education building. Diego's work rivals that of any other artist. The time and immensity of his murals are awe-inspiring. What is also inspiring is that Mexico has amazing works of art that tells the story of their people and really showcase their cultural in their government buildings. And the architecture! And the streets filled with noise and life and make-shift markets of people selling everything and anything. I would like to go back to the city again...the city that intimidates, intrigues and repels so many...

My energy level here in Mexico has been a roller coaster lately. I got homesick a couple days ago, but today I am feeling at home again after having rested a bit. I really do feel exhilarated by the fact that I am getting to know this foreign country so intimately, or at least one region. Mexico is amazing and screwed up all at the same time.

Si el Sur Fuera el Norte

2006-12-15T14:18:00.000-06:00

October 26, 2006
I am back in mi querido Mexico.

Riding in the taxi through the crowded, loud streets of Mexico City definitely brought the nostalgic tears to my eyes.

Yes, I was thinking about Kike and wondering if i maybe came back to Mexico too soon. I was worried about missing him and being reminded of him, but i got over that pretty quick.

I arrived in the late afternoon on Saturday and just hung out and chilled in my hostel. For Sunday, I had a mission. There was a HUGE book fair going on in the Zocalo {the main plaza} where I wanted to pick up a few books in Spanish and then a neighborhood market that only happens on Sundays called Lagunilla. I had gone to Lagunilla before with Kike and i had wanted more time to look around. They sell everything there like clothes, shoes, jewelry, antiques, crafts, but all with a Bohemian twist.

The coolest thing about going to this market though was that i had decided to walk there. Kike and I had walked there and I knew it was a straight shot from downtown, but you know, it's big, bad Mexico City, tourists don't just walk around. Well, I asked the guy working the front desk at the hostel if he thought it was safe to walk and he gave me an unequivocal, "no hay problema," and I headed off. What a great feeling it was. It was so easy and i feel like I own this little part of Mexico City now. Getting there was so simple and I spent a couple hours at the market buying stuff to make jewelry and some jewelry. It was so empowering!!

Then I headed back to downtown and had lunch at the family/run restaurant that Kike and I always ate at. It has good authentic Mexican food and it is in this big old house in the middle of downtown Mexico City. I had my regular Sopes con Pollo. The best part was that when I was paying the guy looks at me and asks, "Are you here all by yourself? Didn't you used to come in with a tall dark guy?" That made me kind of sad when I told him that yes i did, but not anymore, but it also made me feel good that he remembered me.

Anyway, that afternoon Allison and her friend came and immediately went to sleep after a long weekend of partying at their friend's wedding in Acapulco, so I went up to the rooftop bar and chatted it up with the bartenders.
Today we have decided to go to a town called San Miguel de Allende which was rated one of the top 20 places to retire in the world, so I have a feeling the crowd is going to be a little on the gray/haired side. We will only be there for a night and then we go to Guanajuato for the widely celebrated, world/renowned Cervantes festival of art and music.

So, I have now come to northern Mexico (Northern Mexico being as different from Southern Mexico as the West coast is from the East in the US) and I don´t think I will ever tire of this pinche country.

Last night we stayed in San Miguel de Allende which really was retiree city. Even though migration season for the snow-birds doesn`t start until mid-December, there were still quite a few walking the tranquil streets. We are all pretty impressed with he town even though the restaurants, stores and wine cellars all could have been plucked straight from California. We ate at a really nice restaurant and went to a couple bars. At night we met a nice Mexican dude who took us to a couple local locales and then went to bed.

We just arrived a couple hours ago to Guanjuato, the university/festival town and oh my god!!! We are all speechless wandering around the hilly, colonial streets. This is by far one of the most impressive cities I have seen. Our hotel is also this funky, ancient, awesomely tiled wonder that also doubles as the house for the owner Lupita. She couldn`t be friendlier. I do not understand why there aren`t more tour groups that come here. San Miguel de Allende is only 1 1/2 hours away and there hot springs all around. I could definitely design a 10 day tour around these two towns and Guadalajara or Mexico City depending on how people wanted to come. Any takers?

Well, I am madly in love again with this beautiful country...the Spanish, the food, the architecture. I am in love with being so intimate with this lifestyle. Allison and I are already scheming about renting a house for month in Guanajuato in the spring. I keep saying I want to go to South America, but there is just so much to see here.

We spent 3 awe-struck days in Guanajuato, seeing all the sights. We saw Diego Rivera´s childhood home and some of his works. We climbed up un moton de stairs to reach the statue "La Pipila" and get a tremendous panoramic view of the city. We people watched and met a few folks.

We spent a day focused around death, which is quite appropriate considering Dia de los Muertos is right around the corner.

The Mexican chavo we me in San Miguel de Allende told us that if you wanted to see the famous mummies of Guanajuato all you had to do was go to the plaza in San Miguel on any given morning and you´ll see them. The blue-haired snow-birds reading the morning paper. Hahahaha...funny joke. Little did we know that there really are famous mummies in Guanajuato and their in Guanajuato city.

We went to the mummy museum next to the cometary on the outskirts of town. See, in 186-something the people of Guanajuato needed to make more space in their cemetery, so they logically decided to dig up some old corpses to make room for the new ones. The climate and unusual soil content in Guanajuato had strange effect on the cadavers. The had been naturally mummified and now are on display in the museum. There are about 20+ mummies in glass coffin-like cases--some clothed, others not, some with remnants of facial hair, some with hair in other parts, old women, babies. It was crazy. Then we peeked our heads into the cemetery and walked back to town.

After 3 days and the growing crowds of festival goers with approaching week-end, we decided to skip town and explore somewhere new. Based on time and funds we chose the "undiscovered jewel" that is Quéretaro.

One of the first things I noticed as we were walking around trying to find a place to stay was that the people and place seemed very affluent. We ate dinner in a crowded, hip, expensive Tapas restaurant/bar that had literally 200 tequila bottles on the walls. There were nice restaurants, coffee shops and expensive cars, but the weird things was that there were practically no tourists there. This little town seemed to be oozing with money, but I could not figure out where it was coming from.

We went out that night to dance club road where we danced to cheesy Latin pop. We were out pretty late and once again everyone was very finely dressed to the nine´s. Well, I found out that there is a lot of German investment in the town-plastics factories and mechanical engineering centers. It was very interesting. Queretaro would definitely be a stop on my ten-day tour.

After buying tequila at a liquor store, Graham, Allison and I headed back to DF to drop Graham off at the airport.

Without Graham the ladies were set free and we were headed to the beach.

I decided we should go to the best beach community I have seen in Mexico, Puerto Escondido. The only problem with Puerto is that you have to go through Oaxaca city to get there.

I love Oaxaca and wanted to show it to Allison, but what about the teacher´s riot? The army being called in to quell the un-rest? The rumors of dead tourists? I wanted to see what it was like for myself...and I took Allison along for the ride...

Esta Escrito en las Paredes

2006-12-15T14:17:00.000-06:00

November 2, 2006
Poor, poor, poor Oaxaca.

Oh, the Oaxaca I knew from before with it´s bustling, beautiful, colonial streets. Oh the Oaxaca with smiling faces and throngs of tourists. Oh, Oaxaca.

I had called ahead before going and asked what the situation was like. My Oaxacan friends all assured me that it was safe to come, if not a little boring. They said there weren´t many tourists, but that any business there would be greatly appreciated. I asked around to other travelers who had been there and they had said everything was fine. Allison and I also wanted to go to a beach and I wanted to make sure Allison enjoyed herself, which meant going to the Oaxacan coast.

We dropped Graham off in Mexico City and headed to Oaxaca. Just driving into the outskirts of town, you could see the turmoil poor Oaxaca has been going through. The entire city, and I am not exaggerating, every inch of wall space was covered in graffiti.

"Fuera URO de Oaxaca!" "Viva APPO!" "Basta con la Violencia!"

Literally every inch of these colonial buildings covered in graffiti. So, the conflict had begun with a simple teachers strike demanding higher pay, however the governor of Oaxaca (Ulises Ruiz Ortiz) is a complete scumbag and basically did everything he could to make the teachers mad. In making the teachers mad he eventually pissed of all the Oaxacans, which turned a simple teacher´s strike into the desmadre it is today. And now the Mexican federal government is asking the governor to resign. It is the only way anything will be settled.

So, as far as a danger to foreigners there isn´t one. No one looked at us sideways. Most people were happy we were there spending our money because the town was DEAD. I know, I know that an American journalist just got killed, but he was a journalist and put himself right in the middle of harm´s way. A couple of days after we left Oaxaca, the federal government sent in the army to do God only knows what, but I have to hand it to Mexico in a way. The day before the government sent in the army, they stopped all bus service into Oaxaca and strongly urged all foreigners to leave the city.

Talking to the Oaxacans, you wouldn't even know anything was going on. All the restaurants, stores, museums are all still open with the workers just standing around waiting for customers. Beautiful, cosmopolitan Oaxaca is no more right now. This was the town of art exhibits, concerts, conferences, street performances, but now there is nothing. Just burned out cars blocking the streets and graffiti everywhere. It is going to cost millions of dollars just to clean up the graffiti.

All in all, Oaxaca was actually pretty boring. There was an 11pm curfew (to prevent destruction rather than violence), so no one went out at night. Allison and I walked around town for half a day and then went to the ruins and then left. I bought some awesome crafts and chatted it up with a few people, but seeing wonderful, magical Oaxaca in that state was really sad. It is going to take a lot of money to get it back on it´s feet. Another sad repercussion of all this mess is that it is effecting other tourist attractions in the state, like some of the coastal towns because people hear "civil unrest in Oaxaca" and assume it is the entire state. Well, it isn't. Oaxaca city is not a very welcoming place right now, but the coast is fine.

After only a day and a half, we headed to Puerto Escondido to chill out at the beach for 6 days. God, how do I love the beach. Two mornings in a row, Allison and I got up and went on a 5-mile walk on the beach, only to wake up on the third so sore we could hardly walk. Walking on sand is not the easiest thing to do. We laid out, swam and ate deliciously fresh seafood at night. Puerto Escondido was pretty dead too because of it still being off-season, but also because of the Oaxaca situation. There were still quite a few surfers hanging around and at the end of the 6 days, needless to say, Allison and I did not want to leave.

Now we´re in Mexico City. Actually, I am in an Internet cafe and Allison is in the airport waiting to fly home. I will be heading to the airport myself in a couple hours. We have spent two days in Mexico City. We went to the big ruins all on our own using the Metro and buses. We saw the Diego murals and a few museums. The highlight though of being here is the fact that it is Day of the Dead. The zocalo (main plaza) of Mexico City is decorated to the nines with skeletons and alters representing all the barrios of the city. There is creative expression all around.

Last night we went on a kind of lame tour to a cemetery to see people celebration Day of the Dead. Our guides had no idea what they were doing and I were rude. They took 30 of us to the cemetery and were leading us around graves. They would choose graves where people were actually mourning the dead and talk to us about them!!! There was even on guy in the group with a video camera and a spotlight filming people in the cemetery. It was ridiculous. There were too many people and the whole tour was very unorganized. Don't take a tour with Mexibus.

Well, back to the States for me to work and save money for the next adventure.

Camionetas de Pollo

2006-12-06T14:46:00.000-06:00

Monday, December 11, 2003

...Well, I have been living in Panajachel, Lago Atitlan, Guatemala for the past couple of months. I have been having a good time hanging out with César and becoming a part of this "tourist ghetto" community.

Yes, Panajachel is a tourist ghetto, which was defined by a Russian traveler I met as a place where over 50% of the businesses are geared towards tourists. Panajachel does fit this description, but it is an interesting paradox. As I think about tourist ghettos in the United States, I must say that tourism draws out the extroverts and the artists. Panajachel definitely has the best selection of artisan goods I have seen (and cheaper than the tourist trap known as Chichicastenango) and it is just amazing the artistic capabilities of the people who live here. Right down to the clothes they wear everyday, the whole town is filled with walking masterpieces.

And as for extroverts...when people are used to seeing tourists they are more willing to talk to you. I just recently visited a small mountain town of Momostenango to visit my gringo friends Scout and Eric before they head up to Mexico. It was a nice trip, although Momos is a bit high in altitude and I didn´t feel to well.

But, Eric told me something interesting.
There is myth circulating around the Guatemalan highlands that white people sometimes come to Guatemala to steal children. Now this may or may not be true, but recently there was an article in one of the local papers that said that about 15million children are trafficked through Guatemala for sexual and fiscal exploitation. So maybe the fear is justified, but the result is that when Eric and Scout are walking around Momos, they sometimes encounter Mayan women pulling their children close or children running away in what seems like fear. It is an interesting scenario, which makes me love Pana all the more because there is no fear of white people. Only that they might not spend their money.

My time here started with a little trip to the neighboring pueblo of Santa Catarina where there is a hot spring and it is also where some of my friends en la calle are from. César and I walked there in a bout an hour, but people usually come by pick-up in about 25 minutes.
At my request, my mom had sent a package of things to César and enclosed were some crayons and paper.

Throughout my time here I have befriended a little troupe of girls from Santa Catarina. They are girls who vend in the street because their parents need all the money they can get. Somehow, through a few experiences, I began showing these girls how to read and write the alphabet in Spanish. It is really interesting to watch these girls as they try to pin down the muscle coordination to be able to draw letters. They range from ages 8-12 and it is possible that they could count the number of times they held a writing utensil, but they can add fairly large numbers in their head. They don´t go to school and they barely speak Spanish because Kaqchikel is their first language. It is fascinating...
Anyway, I brought some of the goods my mom sent me to the house of these girls in Santa Catarina. As a result, I received a little bag and a necklace, from the pile of goods they vend, as thank you gifts.

I have also started giving English classes twice a week to group of kids about 30 minutes outside of Panajachel. César randomly met a woman who has a group of kids she teaches music to while school´s out on vacation. When she found out I was willing to be free labor, she enlisted me as a teacher. This is also fun because there is a lot of giggling as girls try to sound out words in front of boys and vice versa. I can´t wait to see what happens when we start playing games...or if they get too embarrassed I´ll just have them try to teach me Kaqchikel and then we´ll see who´s laughing.

So, I have been taking a lot of chicken buses and I have to admit I think that the chicken buses are my favorite part of Guatemala. For refresh, chicken buses are old school buses that have become the public transportation of western Guatemala. And they are awesome. Each bus has it´s own name and it´s own unique design. You hardly ever see a plain old yellow bus. They are all colorfully painted, playing music and adorned with God and Jesus loving paraphernalia. And they pack these buses full of people mainly because no one has a car. I just love being with all those people...

Oh, a sad thing did happen today though. I was talking with some other girls who vend en la calle and they wanted to get their picture taken with Santa Claus. I asked them if they really believed in Santa Claus and this was the conversation that followed...

"No, I don´t believe in Santa Claus. Well, I don´t believe in the Guatemalan Santa Claus."
"Well, which Santa Claus do you believe in?"
"I believe in the Santa Claus from the United States."
"Why do you believe in that Santa Claus and not the Santa Claus from Guatemala?"
"Because the Santa Claus from the US gives presents and the one from Guatemala doesn´t."
"Why doesn´t the Santa from Guatemala give presents?"
"I don´t know. but, kids form the United States get presents on Christmas. We don´t."

The sad reality of poverty. César never got presents on Christmas either.
Other than that, I have just been hanging out and talking with people. I went to Chichi, a near-by trading town, learned how to make tamales with César´s sister, got my Nahuales from a sacerdote Maya, and I see live Andean music almost every night.

It is a pretty nice life and all the more interesting because it is always happening in Spanish.

Sometimes, without sub-titles.

Los Viajes Comienzan

2006-12-06T14:40:00.000-06:00

**AUTHOR’S NOTE** Here begin the archives of my travels. All dates shown on the blogs are the original dates in which these pieces were sent out to family and friends as bulk e-mails. All titles of the blogs are obviously written in Spanish. I do not offer translations for the titles. You all can exercise your brains and find translations. May I suggest www.wordreference.com. During my time in Guatemala, I lived in Panajachel, Lago Atitlan, but I also traveled around for about 3 weeks. I saw Tikal, Livingston, Coban, as well as, northern Honduras and the ruins in Copan. Writings from these travels, however, have been lost. Thank you and enjoy.

Friday, September 26, 2003

Well, I am here and safe. I arrived in Guatemala this morning at 5am and taxied to Antigua. It took me awhile to find a hotel that was open that early, but finally I did. I have just been wandering around the cobblestone streets aimlessly, getting lost, getting Holas, but not buying anything, thank god.

Anyway, I was scared to come to Guatemala on my plane ride, but now that I am here...I think I am going to love it. I can’t wait to be able to speak Spanish. It’s cool because every time I stop on the street to consult my Lonely Planet somebody stops to ask me if i need help, whether it be tourist or local. Everyone seems to be really nice or in their own little world. I was a little worried that I would be getting harassed in that machismo way Latin men are so famous for, but it has not been bad. If I ignore them they don't bother me.

I plan to head up to the highlands to a place called Xela, but every local here tells me how cold it is up there. ¡Lucky for me I forgot my jacket! ¡And my camera! I know I will just have to buy a jacket and a camera, but it is hard to spend 100Q on a camera, but c'est la vie. I mean, es la vida. Xela is where I will take language classes and hopefully volunteer for a street school for street kids, working in the office or something.

Traveling is so fun, I must say. All the different sights, noises and smells (even if it is car exhaust). I do miss everyone and I am still trying to find my rhythm being a solo traveler and all. I am just laying low for now...

El Comienzo

2006-12-04T18:12:00.000-06:00

Que onda a todos!!! Bienvenidos!!!

Well, this is my first blog ever and I would like to explain it a little before we get well under way.

As my profile says, I have been traveling my whole life.

My first real travels started in March of 2000 when I discovered Asia thanks to my dad moving to Tokyo, Japan for six years.
In my first trip, I went to Thailand for about 2 1/2 months. This was my first experience as a back-packer. I had read the book The Beach (the book is amazing and, yes, the movie SUCKED) and it inspired me to be a "traveler" and not a tourist. Thailand was a great place to be introduced to the thrills of travel. The country is so easy to navigate. the people are friendly and the food is unbelievable. I stuck mainly to southern Thailand lying on beaches and discovering the hidden rock-climbing spots. At the end of my trip though, I decided to go further.

Going on advice from a friend, I also got the chance to visit beautiful, magical and wonderful Sumatra, Indonesia. Yes, this is the same Sumatra, Indonesia that was the epicenter of the earthquake that caused the tsunami in 2004. However, Sumatra is also famous for having 1 of only 2 orangutan rehabilitation centers in the world. Sumatra is the largest island in the Indonesian nation and absolutely captured my heart. The people there were some of the friendliest and relaxed I have met.

I went to a little town called Bukit Lewang where one goes to do jungle treks (with a guide) and pets wild orangutans--yes, wild orangutans. You see the orangutans from the center are released into the surrounding jungle where one goes on a jungle trek. The orangutans are used to people and gladly approach to pose for pictures, eat bananas or perform high-jinks. We then spent the night in the jungle and then rafted down the river back into town.

There is so much more to say about this particular Asian experience, but unfortunately, I was not as savvy with the writing for this trip nor for the other Asian experiences I had. Also, all my trips to that ornate continent were before the tsunami and I would love to know how it has changed. One day I will go back.

Well, all that Asian traveling set the stage for me to venture south of the border. I had been living in Washington state and found myself in a point in my life where I needed to do something different. It was a definite crossroads and I had to pick up and go. Seeing the growing need for Spanish-speakers in this country, I decided to go to Guatemala to learn Spanish. I did an immersion program and after three months had a good foundation. I was then led to Mexico where I spent 2+ years and will always return every year for the rest of my life.

I truly, truly fell madly in love, not only with a Mexican and Mexicans in general, but with the excitement of discovering, uncovering and knowing people in different places. The magnitude of the human experience is so simple and intricate, I can't think of anything else to do right now except be a traveler.

I fell in love not only with Mexican culture, the Spanish language and the warm sense of humor, but I experienced traveling as someone who could communicate.
One afternoon when I was in Sumatra, Indonesia, an artisan called me over into his shop and he said, "Come in, come in. No buy. Come in and make friendship."
I gladly obliged, but the language barrier made it difficult to "make" a deep connection.
In Latin America though, I make friendships just out of a sheer desire to practice Spanish. Traveling has taken on a whole new dimension for me.

So, the first few blogs will be condensed versions of my time in Guatemala and my early experiences in Mexico. Some of the archives were still shotty at that point as well. I have seen most of Guatemala, but this as well has been struck by tragedy. In 2005, Hurricane Stan hit Western Guatemala hard. from what I understand they are still suffering with roads being out and robbery at an all time high.

I will continue to post older blogs every week until my next big trip which is planned for the end of March. I will once again return to Mexico, but then go further south to South America. I would love to learn Portuguese in Salvador, Brazil, see Machu Picchu and venture into Colombia. My real dream is to buy a pick-up truck and drive all around, but I am not sure if I have the guts.

So, until the new adventures begin, you will have to catch up with the old. I am currently living in the Southwest with my mom, substitute teaching and saving money to travel, travel, travel. My passport expires in 2008 and why not make good use of it?

Thank you for reading.