San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas Mexico
We arrived yesterday after an 8 hour drive from La Crucecita. We now have a whole new understanding of Huatulco as a major Fonatur project, the ambitious design and the reality within the current global recession. We became suspicious of La Crucecita's validity as a real Mexican pueblo when we realized we didn't see any dogs on the streets, there were no "mofles" or "llantera" shops and not a single "ferreteria"to be seen. Where are all those somewhat scruffy looking businesses that are the lifeblood of our town of Zihuatanejo? We learned the answer when we spoke with some of the locals who explained that every building in the town is only 20 years old and that the looks and impression of Mexico is a package designed by Fonatur. It's a nice place to visit, but not really a place to live! However, in saying that, we did enjoy some of the best live music and saw lively venues full of both locals and tourists - a scene that Zihua is missing these days.
Our coastal route along Hwy. 200 is one of the routes that has been designated to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Mexico's independence. Ruta 2010 signs seemed to be a good name for this odyssey of ours. However, we said goodbye to the coast, the windy towns of the Tehuantepec isthmus and we began our inland trip through Tuxtla, the modern and busy capital city of Chiapas. From there the road climbs even higher to San Cristobal.
We arrived in the late afternoon, and found our way through the busy streets full of people dressed in traditional clothing (I can't wait to see the textile mercados) to our destination. Our apartment is in the complex http://www.kukurutz.com/. Like many colonial towns, the facades are deceiving and from the outside, the buildng looked to be very old and in poor repair...but what waited inside was truly a delight. However, let me back up and explain what happened on our first interaction with a person in this town....and we hope first impressions will not be lasting ones.
As we were getting out of our car across the street and down the block from our destination, I was holding on to my printed internet map of the school and the apartment. A young Mexican man approached me and asked if he could help me. This often occurs in Mexico where I sense people are proud of their towns and want a newcomer to have a good experience. I told him that we were fine and were just walking over to check into our new apartment. He excitedly took the papers from me and walked us across the street, where he rang the bell and spoke to the young woman in Spanish. We were taken in and he accompanied us to our apartment where he began to tour us and show us the TV, fireplace, curtains, bathroom towels, shower etc. The caretaker arrived and looked confused, but he spoke no English and I was given a registration form to complete. The young man encouraged me to sit down and fill in my registration. Gene went back to get the car and begin to bring in our luggage with the caretaker and his children.
No sooner had I sat down with my pen than this young Mexican man started asking me where I was from and where I had bought my colorful Mexican bag. I was chatting with him and filling out the form, thinking that he would be asking me for a propina for his assistance, when I heard my gum package wrapper crinkle in his pocket. I said "hey what are you doing with my gum"'...and then I realized he had his hand inside my bag and at that second he bolted out of the door and out through the gateway that had been opened to allow Gene easy access with our luggage. I yelled "Robo" (robbery) and everyone looked very confused as the caretaker had been told by the young man that he was our taxi driver. I was lucky as he only took approximately 300 pesos from my zippered change purse. It could have been much worse, but this was not an auspicious start to our 2 week stay here. I can only hope that his need for my money was much more than mine.
The town is vibrant with faces, costumes, architecture and locations we are not famliar with. It is pushing the envelope of my comfort levels. In the mercado this morning, the faces weren't the soft and welcoming faces we see in Zihuatanejo, but the wizened, hardened faces of the tiny, sinuous indigenous people we see struggling with their loads in their heavy woolen clothing.
Today we signed up for our Spanish classes which begin Monday at http://www.lacasaenelarbol.org/. We planned it, we wanted it, we need it, but can we cope?
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