I think the most unsettling thing about Mexico has been the begging and insisting by locals to buy their products. When we traveled from Palenque to San Cristobal, our bus was stopped three times by people selling bananas. And when I say stopped, I mean they held up a rope across the road and stood in the middle of the lanes so that you couldn’t pass until you bought something from them. Granted, they were the best bananas I've ever tasted...but still...
Other times they stand at the doorways of the hotels or walk in and out of restaurants with their products. Today at Chamula and Zinacantan, the people (many of them very young children) ran to our bus as soon as it was parked and stood at the doors waiting for us to get off. They sell all sorts of things, from shirts to bookmarks to pens to scarves. Some people in our group do wind up buying some things, or others give the little kids candy, but I haven’t bought from them yet.
Our first stop was San Juan de Chamula, a community made up mostly of indigenous people (very little or no Spanish-European decent). Chamula has become famous in recent years because of its church. No one is allowed to take pictures inside the church or of the people around the church. If you do take pictures, your camera would be taken away and you could be fined or worse. :-/ Needless to say, I took a picture of the church from outside and then kept my camera closed.
But how to describe this amazing place? The sights, sounds, and smells were overwhelming. Here’s my best description – you enter by stepping up through a small doorway and are met with a dimly lit room with no pews, but hundreds and hundreds of people scattered in all places. Some people are standing, some are kneeling, some are sitting, some (children) are being carried on their mothers’ backs. There are some individual worshippers who are whispering their own religious incantations over thin candles stuck into the ground, melting into large pools of wax. But this church is not quiet by any means. Besides the individuals, there are groups of people in various parts of the room speaking loudly…today was a baptismal day and you could be baptized for 20 pesos…many people were pushing and shoving to get their turn. There was also a funeral today, so a mariachi band was playing in one section, while taking shots of posh (a type of liquor) and drinking Coca-Cola. The floor is covered in pine needles and I fear that my pants will catch on fire from the still-burning wicks of some deserted candles. The air smells of burning candles, incense, and the bowls of steaming coal that I’ve watched some women walk around with. The room becomes overwhelming within a few minutes and I start to get a headache, but to walk from one end of the church to the other takes about five minutes. It’s hard to leave without taking one last look back at a world that I never imagined existed and still feel is only a dream.
Before we left the town, our group walked through the market outside the church which was full of almost anything imaginable...clothing, shoes, toiletries, fruits, vegetables, and fried ants. And yes...I did try the fried ants! It was quite a task to gather the strength to do it, but I did and it wasn't soooo bad...they tasted like really bad fried pork rinds. Here's a picture-by-picture progression of that activity:
Here are some reactions from a few others in our group (from left to right: Tanya, Chandra, Brenda H.):
Our second indigenous community of the day was Zinacantan, which is known for its beautiful flowers. A few years ago, the village was given money to build greenhouses and cultivate its flower industry. This city has similarities to Chamula, and apparently one could walk two hours from one community to the other, as they are only separated by a mountain. This is also a place where children follow you and ask for money, and where photographs in the church are not allowed. So again, here's the oustide:
But when we walked into the church, I was not overwhelmed like at Chamula. Instead, I was amazed at the beautiful flower displays surrounding the altar, the side chapels, and adorning the statues of various saints. From the colorful and intricately designed arrangements, it’s easy to see why Zinacantan is known for its flowers. The village of Zinacantan is also known for its colorful floral designs on clothing, scarves, and accessories. Our guide, Janet, took us into a local shop where the family does their own weaving in their house. Some of the designs were absolutely gorgeous, and also very unique to the area. Here are some typical pieces of work:
Of course I have to end with our final experience of the day…watching Spain win the World Cup while eating lunch at Mexican restaurant in San Cristobal!
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