July 12 - My Favorite Things...About the Comida

Today we spent around eight hours on the bus to take us to Veracruz.  In order to pass some of the time one of the things that our section of the bus talked about was our favorite foods from our trip, thus far.  Since nothing else too exciting happened today, I thought I would share a few of my favorite food factors. 

So, what have I noticed about the food?

#1 - The schedule:  We eat a huge breakfast around 8:30.  Then we eat a big lunch around 2:00 in the afternoon.  Around 8:00 p.m. I usually have a snack, something sweet, or a super light dinner.  I love it. 

# 2 - The service - There are always purse trees to hang bags and coats on.  If there isn’t one at your table, a waiter brings you one.  The moment a dirty plate is empty, it is removed from the table.  If a fly lands in your lemonade, a new one replaces it before you even realize it’s there.  

# 3 - The coffee (cafe con leche) - Waiters are always ready with coffee in one hand and warm milk in another.  Tonight we went to a cafe where the waiters poor the milk two feet above the coffee into the cup and don’t miss a drop. 

# 4 - Warm Tortillas - Need I say more? 

# 5 - Lime and Avocados- Lime and avocado come with everything and everything is better with lime and avocados: chips, bread, soup, enchiladas, vegetables, fish 

# 6- Pan Dulce (Sweet Bread) - I admit to missing wheat bread with peanut butter, but I love that every breakfast offers a variety of sweet breads: chocolate filled, sugar coated, warm sweet bread

fresh tortillas

Pan Dulce

Avocado stuffed with shrimp

Cafe con leche

We're always greeted with fresh squeezed juice

Answering Questions:
While on the bus I was also thinking about some of the questions I've had throughout this trip.  A few days ago I was wondering about how the people in Chamula adopted some religious influences, but not others.  I realized that they didn't really adopt any other form of religion.  They worship in a church that has some Catholic influences, but the way that they worship is completely separate from the building that they are in.  

July 11 - Another View

I was sad to leave San Cristobal this morning, but I did get one more run through the city.  When we left our hotel for a run, a dog quickly started trotting by our side and stayed with us all the way through town, up the steep stairs to the cathedral,and all the way back to our hotel.  I’m glad I’m leaving a friend in one of my new favorite cities. 

Our group loaded the bus to learn about marimbas (music = one of my favorite things) and to see the views of the Canon del Sumidero (nature = another one of my favorite things).  

What did I observe today?

Our first stop today was a marimba workshop with the Nandyapa family.  We learned about the history of the marimba in Mexico, the detailed process of how it is made, and I  volunteered to play a part in a waltz.  The view of mountains and a river from the workshop space made me consider taking up the marimba professionally, but I think my skill level will require me to keep teaching.

We experienced the views of the Canon del Sumidero from below via boat and above via a lookout point.  As our boat made it’s way down the Canyon, we tilted our heads upward to see the tops of the towering rocks on either side of us.  I felt small as we moved down the canyon and the walls of rock seemed to keep growing higher around us.  We passed our share of herons, vultures, and a crocodile perched on the shore.  Scanning the stone, we spotted waterfalls trickling down, deep caves, and even a shrine to one of the Saints.  Unfortunately, clusters of plastic bottles are scattered throughout the Canyon, though there are many signs that talk about a clean canyon project.  An unexpected rain shower added an adventure feel to our ride.  

When our bus took us to the top of the canyon, I was pleasantly surprised to see an equally incredible view.  As we looked over the edge to the wall scaling down into the Canyon, we were reminded of the Chiapas who hurled themselves to death into the Canyon rather than being taken captive by the Spaniards in 1528.  

Canyon from below

Canyon from Above

Canyon from above

July 10 - Looking for God

Within Chiapas there are several indigenous communities that live with their own language and traditions.  Today we went to San Juan Chamula and Zinacantan, both Tzotzil groups.  

What did I observe?

San Juan Chamula is a small town outside of San Cristobal.  We walked into the city square to see tents filling the space with fruits, coffee beans, corn, and fabric.  The people sitting in front of each stand speak enough Spanish to try to sell items to the tourists walking through.  A row of church leaders covered in black wool vests over white shirts sit at one end of the town square.  We were not allowed to take pictures of any of the community leaders.  

We were also not allowed to take pictures inside the church that is center to the Chamula community.  The mixture of indigenous faith practices and the Catholic influence create a stimulating scene in the walls of the church.  

The outside of the church looks like many churches.  It had large, double front doors opening into the sanctuary.  The top of the white building had a cross on top.  Inside, the church was like no other place of worship I have experienced.  There were no pews or even chairs.  The walls on both sides of the church were covered with human-like saints enclosed in cases like many Catholic churches.  The difference was that the saints covered all of both walls.  Each saint was holding a mirror facing out.  Large flowered fabric strips hung from one side of the sanctuary to the peak of the church, to the other side at five different places.  The floor was made of ceramic tiles covered in pine needles.  Every few steps a circular area was cleared of pine needles so that people could light rows of candles in that circle.  It smelled like Christmas.  Groups of people sat around the little shrines throughout the church burning candles and incense.  Some people were moving eggs across their bodies, a way to remove bad spirits, while other people held live chickens which were going to be sacrificed.  Others were drinking bottles of coke.  It is believed that when you burp, the bad spirits are leaving so coke is often a great way to get rid of the bad spirits.  The front of the sanctuary had a more typical feel to it: John the Baptist was at the front of the church and flowers filled the space in front.  This is the worship service - people kneeling by candles and praying while tourists squeeze their way through to watch.  

Market in San Juan Chamula

What questions do I have?

I was inspired by the traditions in the communities we visited, but was also left with a lot of questions.  The Chamula community is a peaceful community where people take care of each other.  Unique weaving and sewing of fabric, language, and other traditions have continued to be passed down from one generation to the next.  It is powerful to see a group of people who are able to hold onto their customs when another group of people tries to impose their own culture on them.  However, I found myself wrestling with the common question: When does the value of tradition and culture outweigh the value of individual rights?  People who have chosen to break away from the Mestizo Catholicism have been exiled from the community and forced to live on the edges of San Cristobal.  When I asked about people who didn’t want to wear the traditional symbols of the Chamula, I was told that most people just did want to wear them.  When I asked about the women’s roles in the church and community I was told that they were treated equally.  When I pointed out that all of the leaders of the community (who are the leaders of the church) are men and that only men can vote, I was told that it’s ok because the men talk to their wives about the way they vote.  I’m skeptical of the situation, but I’m also skeptical of my own perspective because I have only visited the community for one day.  I recognize how little I know.  

What connections did I make? 

It seems to me that Liberation theology would be an ideal religious match for the Zapatista movement that occurred in many of the indigenous communities surrounding San Cristobal.  I think that my own admiration of liberation theology is probably getting in the way of my understanding of this other form of religion.  

As an educator, one of my goals is to encourage my students to question the things that are simply expected of us.  At the same time, I’m also always trying to get my students to think about the other perspectives in a situation.  I was struggling with both of these ideas today.  

Weaving in Zinacantan

July 9 - Talking about a Revolution

If Minneapolis can be ranked the # 1 hipster city in America, I think San Cristobal could be the most hipster place in Mexico.  

What have I observed? 

This morning, Kate and I had a quiet run through the city, passing numerous coffee shops and bakeries.  The fog was rolling in over the mountains surrounding the city and bells were tolling from churches lining the city square.  It is a beautiful place to run.  By this afternoon the city was full of locals selling textiles and jade on the city square and the pedestrian walking street that cuts through town. Tourists sporting backpacks, Keens, and bikes seem to flock to this site of the1994 Zapatista Revolution.   This evening we walked past the zocolo to find a rock band playing in one corner, a traditional Mayan dance being performing in another, and large canvas art being created in a third area.  We walked into a bar called Revolucion to find pictures of Che and Marcos on the walls.  A band covered Bob Marley and the tables filled with conversations in German, French, and Italian.   

Different places we went and lectures we attended today reminded me that blocks away from this celebration of revolution are neighborhoods full of people who are still pushed out of the center of this city.  We attended lectures about migration trends in Mexico, the history of the Zapatistas, and the changes in textiles of different indigenous cultural groups in Chiapas. 

The city center in San Cristobal

What questions do I have?

It’s clear that the Zapatista movement brought the attention of the needs of many people to the government, requesting more school, roads, and equal treatment.  As disparities still exist, I can’t help but wonder where the appearance of the Zapatistas are now.  I also find myself wondering if the international zest for the Zapatista is stronger than the energy within Mexico right now.  

Today we listened to an interesting lecture about the changing clothing of the different Mayan cultural groups throughout Chiapas.  I am glad that this tradition is being documented, but I want to hear more of it from the voice of the women who wear and this clothing.  I always wonder how the perspective of the narrator changes the voice of the story.  

Fulbrighters, Trina, Alejandro, and I with one of our guest speakers

A shop that makes recycled paper in San Cristobal

July 8 - Over the Hills..and Past the Corn

Today we curved our way through the mountains to San Cristobal, center of the state of Chiapas.  A little background - Though it has natural resources like coffee and oil, Chiapas is one of the poorest states in Mexico.  Of the four million people in Chiapas, one million are of indigenous decent, speaking seven different forms of Mayan language.  

The historical Zapatista rebellion of 1994 happened in San Cristobal the day that NAFTA was signed.  It was evidence of the frustration indigenous communities felt over historical mistreatment and unequal distribution of wealth.  The Zapatista movement has gotten the attention of the government, forcing them to provide more educational resources.  However, the inequalities of the state are still prevalent.  

What have I observed today?

On our bus ride, we were stopped several times by vendors who strung a rope across the road in front of us, “forcing” us to spend a few pesos on a bunch of bananas or oranges before we could pass....something of a people’s toll.  

 Our winding road took us into mountains scattered with people sitting behind piles of bananas and avocados waiting to be sold, small clusters of mixed-material one-room homes, and farmers working their way up the sides of steep hills, corn-knives in hand. 

About that corn and my connection...

Some of my fellow teachers were intrigued by my quizzical looks as we passed small plots of corn on steep hills, speckled with other plants and large rocks.  

Growing up, I have vivid memories of the harvest of sweet corn.  My dad would disappear into the rows of tall corn while we waited on the back of his truck.  He would reappear with baskets of corn.  Then, we would help shuck the corn husks and bring the corn into the kitchen.  Once inside, my mom would set up stations of taking the corn off of the cobb, adding water and corn to little baggies, and sealing the bags before putting them in the freezer.  After the long process, (in which, I admit to more watching than working) we would have our supply of corn for the year.  

As we visit more museums and historical sites, I keep hearing about how ancient Mayan culture considered corn to be one of the most important parts of life.  It’s in paintings, carved into temples, and included in stories, prayers, and sculptures.  As we passed these plots of corn appearing on the side of mountains, two thoughts kept going through my mind.  I couldn’t help but think about how much more work it would have been to walk over rocks at a steep angle carrying that corn.  I also kept going back to the amount of corn that is created in each of these little plots.  I could imagine that the corn would be enough to feed a family in the same way that my family ate sweet corn for a year, but what about the Mayans who filled the grounds of Chichen Itza, Edzna, and Palenche? How did they do it? How could there be enough of those plots? I do know I need to read much more about agriculture throughout Mexico before I have an understanding of where all of the great maiz came from.  I also recognize that the corn issue is a small part of the economic struggles surrounding Chiapas.   

A lesson with our new friend, Sergio, about the different cultures in Chiapas

Fruit stand enroute

July 7 - Welcome to the Jungle

Last night we arrived in the Tropical Forest of Palenque.  

What have I noticed?

Our lodging is an eco-tourist resort with cottages tucked in between rivers, tall banana trees, and flowers drooping over roofs and archways.  Bursts of rain interrupt the humidity and sunshine.  Each cottage has a front porch perfect for blogging, complete with wooden rocking chairs.  Monkeys laugh and birds call back and forth to each other while rain drips just in front of the porch. 

A path at our hotel

This morning we made our way to the Palenque archeological site.  Like the other archeological sites that we have visited, Palenque has an abundance of Mayan temples, living quarters, and a game court.  This visit was different because we hiked our way through leafy jungle to find ruins that are yet to be fully uncovered.  It is humbling to think about the Mayans who built these structures and abandoned them in 900 A.D., leaving them to be undiscovered again until 1850.  This left plenty of time for the jungle to swallow up much of the site with new plantation.  Today many of the figures have been uncovered and restored.  We are still able to climb our way up the narrow stairs to the top of the pyramids and temples and imagine what it might have been like to be there.  I understand why people felt closer to God looking out to see temples peeking out from the tropical forest.  

A View from Palenque Ruins

July 6 - Turtle Time

Today was primarily a traveling day. 

We went from Campeche to Xpicob’s turtle conservation camp.  It was another beautiful scene at the Gulf.  We learned about the conservation of sea turtles and other sea animals.  After touching starfish, turtles, and octopus, we took a boat outward from the beach to witness the release of a turtle.  We stood in waste-deep, bright blue water.  The perfect sand at our feet allowed us to hang out until it was time for the release.  We all said our goodbyes to the turtle and watched him begin his exploration.  

From there, we began our journey toward Palenque, Chiapas.  Road construction and a stop where an authority figure loaded our bus made the trip more than twice as long as we expected.  The young man was quite pleasant, but a little intimidating as he made his way down the aisle of the bus, asking us questions.  

Even with a long bus ride, my first sunburn of the trip, and several fulbrighters experiencing “stomach sickness,” I ended my day with thoughtful conversations about education and the ideas that we are taking back to our classrooms.  

Monica holding her new friend

Lunch on the beach after releasing our turtle friend