Bus Trips and Bambi

Much as we liked Mexico City, we were glad to leave it behind. All that running around was exhausting. (I know you all must feel very sorry for us.) The bus from Mexico City to San Cristobal de Las Casas (pictured) was about 13 hours long (ouch). We arrived at the bus station early and killed a couple hours playing 7 degrees of Kevin Bacon. We connected Tupac, Jackie Chan, Corey Feldman, Audrey Hepburn, Wesley Snipes, James Belushi, Demi Moore, and McCauley Caulkin. I was personally most impressed with Audrey Hepburn. I believe we did her in 6. The bus ride was hell. We had the same driver for the entire trip. I don’t even remember him stopping. He drove like a crazy person. We were on a two lane winding highway. At one point, the fog was so thick, you could hardly see out the window. I was convinced that, if I looked behind the curtain to see the driver, it would have been the Cryptkeeper. I could almost hear him laughing as he drove us unsuspecting travelers off into the abyss. I wasn’t the only one worried either. Two women were staring intently at the road. It was the first time I ever saw locals look worried on the bus. I finally just popped a half a Valium and got a few hours sleep. We arrived in San Cristobal at about 10:00 in the morning, exhausted and starving. (Thirteen hours on that bus and not so much as a bag of peanuts. Don’t ever take ADO-GL.)

San Cristobal is the kind of place where travelers are accosted the second they step foot in town. We had flyers shoved in our faces and person after person follow us with arm-loads of trinkets. You can’t escape in restaurants either. There are no “no soliciting” signs in Mexico. You sit at your table eating and, between bites, say “no gracias” over and over until you can’t take it anymore and buy some crap you don’t want or need. I’m currently wearing a pastel-colored anklet. I hate pastels. After we choked down our (kinda nasty) breakfast, we hopped in a cab and went to our hotel (Media Luna). The hotel had a courtyard full of flowers and was very beautiful. The guy working the desk was a middle aged man from Oklahoma (but who lives in Texas). He sells oil drilling parts and army gear to people in Nigeria, but he was there helping his girlfriend run the hotel. He didn’t speak a word of Spanish. (I had to translate for him with two other guests.) Bizarre. He tried to give us special, down-home Okie treatment, but any efforts he made were undone by the lady who runs the place. She is quite the princess. (We came back from breakfast one day and watched as she ordered the guy cleaning rooms to stop in the middle of what he was doing and go wash her little fufu dog instead.) We originally made reservations for three nights, but they booked other people and we only could stay for two. Good riddance. San Cristobal is beautiful, but there are just too many tourists. No place on earth can stand to have the entire economy based on kissing ass and pleading for pennies. None of the people seem very happy. The food was generally pretty blah, although the coffee was finally improving. (They grow coffee in the state of Chiapas, where San Cristobal is.) The best thing in town was a printing cooperative we toured. They take used paper, flowers, leaves, dye etc and make notebooks, cards, wall hangings and other paper products. They’ve been doing it for decades and it supports about thirty families.

What we really went to that part of Mexico for was to see the Mayan ruins at Palenque. We had to take another long winding bus ride (about five hours), but this driver was sane. We stayed at Cabanas Safari in, as the name suggests, a little thatch-roofed cabana. The place is owned by a veterinarian and his family and is on a large piece of property covered in tropical plants and full of animals. It reminded me a lot of Florida, full of palm trees and crab grass and those bushes with the little red flowers all over them. Unfortunately, it was like Florida in August - hot as balls. The cabana had no air, so Chris and I took a lot of cold showers. The best part about the hotel was, by far, the company. We got to eat breakfast with a funky chicken and a deer (named Bambi, of course). As you can see in the pic, Bambi likes toast and will come right up to the table and give you kisses in order to get it. I doubt toast is good for deer, but who can say no to deer kisses?

Before we went to see the ruins, we took a tour of the tropical forest with a Mayan guide named Geronimo (like the Apache). Those of you who know my complete lack of interest in greenery will be surprised to learn that his tour of medicinal plants was actually pretty interesting. We saw plants for snake bites, antibacterial plants, poisonous plants used for stunning fish, and a tree with peeling red bark that they call the “tourist tree”. He neglected to point out some of the special agriculture we passed, but Chris managed to spot it anyway. The forest was filled with Tarzan vines and snakes, but surprisingly free of mosquitos (dry season). He found some howler monkeys for us to hang out with, but my zoom lens wasn’t quite up to the task. Finally we ended up at a beautiful waterfall where Chris and I took dozens of dorky pictures, this being one of them. We finished our tour of the forest just when it was getting to the hottest part of the day. It must have been 100 degrees, all of them humid. Chris and I went through about 6 bottles of water, a gatorade and a coconut (we drank the milk). Even though we had to stop every few minutes so I wouldn’t get heat stroke, the ruins at Palenque have taken first place in my list of most impressive ancient cities (a position formerly held by Uxmal). It’s just amazing. Most of the buildings can be climbed on and quite a few can be climbed inside as well. They are all built into the mountains in ingenious ways. By the time we finished climbing around in the heat, I was exhausted. After a cold shower and a nap we went out to dinner in Palenque town (less picturesque, but more pleasant than San Cristobal). We tried some plantains stuffed with cheese (like Mexican blintzes) and a local drink called pozol. If Yoohoo was unsweetened and full of corn meal, it would taste a lot like pozol with cacao. Once was enough on the pozol, but the plantains were scrumptious.

Another winding bus ride from Palenque, a couple more nights in San Cristobal (at a much nicer hotel) and we booked a ride out of Mexico. We have been in Quetzaltenango for almost a week now and it looks like we are going to plant it for a bit. I’ll give you the lowdown on that in a couple days.

Ciao.

Mexico City Mania

We spent two weeks in Mexico City. It so happens that those two weeks were the ones when most Mexicans head to the beaches on vacation and so the city was less crowded than normal. Still, I think reports of the dirt, smog and traffic in the city are highly exagerated. The traffic was way better than L.A., the dirt way less than downtown Miami and the smog not all that bothersome. True, we rarely saw blue skies, but twilight was purple instead of cobalt - cool. Most tourists (us included) end up hanging out in a few areas. The historic center has a lot of the museums and government buildings. If you want sex shops, gay bars and multicolored hair; you go to the Zona Rosa. Condessa is an outdoor café and yuppie scene. And if you want to shop at Hugo Boss or Louis Vuitton, you head over to another area called San Angel. Mexico City has about three times as many people as New York, but there are very few skyscrapers (earthquake zone). As you can see, it just kind of goes on forever. Luckily, the city has invested heavily in its public transportation and you can get anywhere easily and for about 20 cents. In fact, they have the cleanest subway I have every seen. It doesn’t even smell like piss. (Take that New York.) I’m guessing that the armed guards in every subway station may be deterring any potential subway pissers.

Which brings me to another thing about Mexico City, there are armed and uniformed people everywhere. The first day we arrived, we saw truckloads of riot police and heard what sounded like tear gas. People were protesting changes to the government pension system (some first steps toward privatization). There were more riot police than protesters (and there were a lot of protesters, as you can see in the photo). Mostly the police hung back looking bored. I was surprised to see reports in one of the papers the next day that said the protesters caused “chaos.” We didn’t see any of that (unless you consider the closing of a few museums for lack of employees “chaos”). Aside from riot cops and anti-piss subway patrols, there are tons of traffic police. All of the traffic police are women and they are all cute as a button. They must use 1970s flight attendant criteria for hiring them. I saw many men checking them out. They aren’t just for show though. It takes some coordination to get 22 million people to navigate the streets without killing each other. I did feel very safe in the city, but sometimes it was a bit like a police state.

The art in Mexico City is amazing and abundant. If you went to a museum every day, it would take half a year to see them all. Of course, by then they would have changed all the exhibits and you would have to start all over again. Mexican artists are most famous for their murals and some of the best murals can be found in the Palacio de Bellas Artes. This is the Orozco mural in the Palacio. That’s a prostitute eating Chris’s head. The Palacio is actually a performance space and the place where we saw the Ballet Folklorico. It was touristy, but fun. Believe it or not, one of the most impressive musicians was a harpist and one of the most impressive dancers was a guy with a lasso - who knew. I won’t go listing all of the museums we went to. Suffice it to say that we hit as many as three in one day and are now well versed in everything from the origin of man to sixteenth century Flemish painting.

Quite a few of the museums in Mexico City are located in the Bosque de Chapultepec (Mexico City’s version of Central Park or Golden Gate). The park is huge and full of people (even during the week). We visited a few museums in the park, but my favorite thing was the voladores outside the Museum of Anthropology. Traditionally, on the gulf coast of Mexico, people would climb to the top of a huge tree, tie themselves to the top by their ankles, and spiral down on long ropes. It’s some sort of religious thing, I think. These days they use a metal pole and they have a little spot on top for a flute player, who provides the soundtrack. It takes a long time and, for someone not deathly afraid of heights, is probably meditative. Here’s a pic of them spinning. I hope you can tell how high they are. It’s crazy. Of course Mexico also has tons of other parks and plazas. Near the historic center is the Alameda. Way back when, inquisitors tortured heretics there. (Sing along now - “Inquisition, one two three...” History of the World? No?) Today couples lay on the grass every afternoon, napping and necking. That is where Chris took that photo of me posted on his blog.

Another park-like place and must-do on every tourists agenda is Xochimilco. Before the Spanish came along, Mexico City (then Tenochtitlan) had canals instead of streets (like Venice). Colorful boats still travel the canals in Xochimilco, except today the canals are dirty and crowded and the people steering the boats no longer wear traditional outfits (or have much fun). I don’t mean to paint a completely bleak picture, because it is still worth a trip. There are boats selling beverages and food and boats full of musicians. You haven’t lived until you’ve been serenaded by a 7 piece mariachi band balancing precariously in a small wooden boat. You can tell the locals/pros by the loot they bring with them. Instead of going to a park, Mexican families pack up their coolers and head to Xochimilco. The boats have long tables surrounded by chairs and are a great place for a family picnic. Then you can hire a mariachi or marimba band to ride alongside you and it’s a party. This is a picture of Chris and I on the boat.

One of the coolest things about Mexico City is how many layers of history are all piled up on top of each other. Modern glass buildings built next to five hundred year old churches, built on top of thousands of years old Aztec ruins. Somehow it all works. Of course, a lot of the most impressive structures have some kind of religious significance, whether Aztec or Catholic. We saw lots of churches, including the Basilica de la Virgin de Guadalupe. (For the whole story, check out Wikipedia.) The place is enormous and a bit like Epcot - except all Virgin, all the time. Some people were walking up the steps to the old chapel on their knees. We thought about following suit, but I didn’t think anyone would believe me when I told them how I got the knee scrapes. Our first stop was to get Chris’s mom a rosary at the gift shop. It was packed - like a religious WalMart the day before Christmas. Afterwards, (as you can see in the pick) Chris braved the crowds and got the rosary blessed in a religious sponge bath. What a good son. Not all of the religious sites are quite that nuts. There are a few old convents that have been converted into schools, hotels and museums - very tranquil. Of course some of the coolest religious sites were the pyramids, the remains of one being right in the middle of the historic center. You can look at thousands of years of history in one glance.

A lot of historic buildings have been turned into restaurants, like the Casa de los Azulejos (House of Tiles), home to one of the Sanborns restaurants (a local chain). This is a picture of it. Café de Tacuba is another must on every tourist agenda. The place has been going strong since 1912. It was jammed with people waiting for a table, but worth the wait. Not only was the restaurant gorgeous (dark wood, stained glass), but the food was some of the best we had in Mexico City. If there is one area where Mexico City still has a bit of work to do, it is the food choices. Granted we were only there a couple weeks and didn’t spend a lot of time in areas with better restaurants (like Condessa), but a lot of the food we had just wasn’t that good. Maybe I’m a little spoiled from living near San Fran where every restaurant is delicious. The best food we had in Mexico was, hands down, at Marcela’s house in Irapuato. She really needs to open a restaurant. As Chris mentioned on his blog, we ended up at Starbucks a lot. At least we never went to McDonalds. I don’t care what anyone says. Starbucks is the best. I hope they have one in every city, town and jungle we arrive in. (If other people want to compete, they need to start putting heroin in their frappuchinos too.) We also hit an Olive Garden-like chain in the Zona Rosa. The food sucked, but they seemed to be the only people in Mexico City who knew how to make a proper frozen drink

Of course, you don’t have to go to a restaurant to get food in Mexico City. There are street vendors everywhere. In fact, it seems like everyone in Mexico City is selling something. Every sidewalk is half taken up by vendors. If the vendor is particularly popular, you can just forget getting by. The market went on forever. It was streets and streets of stalls. Each stall had a different item in every color imaginable. There was a stall for ribbons, a stall for incense, a stall for garden hoses.... It’s not just stalls either, people are selling things walking around the streets, walking around the ruins, walking through the subways... Everywhere we go someone is trying to sell us something from; candy to a sad story. My most intense purchasing experience was definitely the day I went to the pharmacy for more anti-malarials. It was insane. First you wait in a line for the pharmacist, who gives you a prescription. Then you wait in line at one of the cashiers to pay. Finally you go to the counter where you need to pick up your prescription. You have to hand the girl your paid prescription form and then she gets the meds. It is bedlam. Dozens of people are holding up their little slips of paper, pushing, trying to get the girl to take it from them. It resembles the stock exchange scene from the movie Trading Places, except with little old ladies shoving each other to get their medicine.

Shopping madness and some disappointing meals aside, I liked Mexico City a lot and hope I can go back and catch the hundred museums we missed the first time. Aside from the museums and the history, I think the other great thing about Mexico City is how everyone seems to take things in stride. For example, one day we were on the subway and some police came on and evacuated us. (We found out later the subway was closed for repairs.) Everyone just got off the subway and got on the two-block-long line for the bus. No one even grumbled, everyone just took it in stride. Maybe it is in part because no one seems to be in that big of a rush. I was really surprised to find a city of that many people who just stroll. New York it ain’t and it ain’t trying to be, which is another great thing about the city. Some places we’ve been, Vancouver for instance, don’t seem to have their own personality. Mexico City has taken indigenous customs, Spanish religion, french subways, U.S. music, and German companies and combined them into something completely its own. And you can always tell cities where the people know how great their city is. Everyone knows they are living in the center of it all.

We are currently in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala which puts me a couple weeks and a few cities behind on my blogging. I’m going to try to catch up this week. Ciao.

Whiling Away the Days in Irapuato

We arrived in Mexico City on Monday. I’ll have lots to tell you about that next post. For now, I’ll just catch you up on our weeks in Irapuato. Irapuato is hot and dusty. Although it was founded around 500 years ago, most of the old buildings were destroyed in a flood. Like all Mexican towns, there is an old church and a town plaza. They recently gussied up the plaza with a big fountain and light show. That is pretty much as close as Irapuato gets to a tourist attraction. Not surprisingly, there are no tourists - particularly in Los Cobos, the neighborhood where we stayed. Naturally, Chris and I were a bit of a spectacle. It made picture taking somewhat awkward. This is a sneaky shot we took from the roof of Marcela’s house. (We stayed with Chris’s, brother’s, wife’s, stepmother - Marcela.)

Marcela and Rafael’s house is in a neighborhood called Los Cobos. Like a lot of places in Mexico, Los Cobos looks half-done and worn-down at the same time. Most people build onto their houses as they have money, so everyone has rebar sticking up from their roofs (for that second or third floor they plan on adding) or partially constructed walls jutting out here and there. Marcela and Rafael’s house is big. We had a bedroom all to ourselves. This is a photo of it. Note the separate beds. Apparently, word has gotten out that we’re only fake-married. See the Jesus picture on the wall? (You cannot escape him. He’s everywhere in Mexico.) I don’t think he approved of us moving the beds together. Also, note the mosquito net. There were many flies and mosquitos in Irapuato. Chris had a nightly war with them. He went MacGyver on me and made a fly-swatter out of a hacksaw blade, some paper and some duck tape. (Duck tape fixes everything!) I hope that karma thing isn’t for real or Chris is in big trouble.

Every morning, we were woken by the crowing of roosters at the crack of dawn. Sometimes some sheep would join in and they would sing a little melody together. Later on, people turned on their radios full blast to the tune of what sounded like Mexico’s version of polka music. As they did not have a phone (much less internet) where we were, Chris and I often ended up at one of the local internet places. Near the house was a small shop where kids gathered for little LAN parties. Mostly, I must admit, we went to a little coffee shop in the mall. In fact, we spent so much time in Irapuato’s new mall that I felt like I was 14 all over again. The mall was kind of an interesting place. Marcela says it is for rich people. I definitely saw a lot of social climbers. We also saw a boy band playing for a bunch of screaming adolescents. (Some things are universal.) They had much of the usual mall stuff - Dominos pizza, Subway sandwiches, a Levis store. I even saw a Bar Mitzvah photo frame in one of the stores and bagels, cream cheese and lox offered in one of the restaurants - so there is probably at least one Jew in town. In addition to the mall, we made one shameful trip to Wal-Mart and several shameful trips to the Wal-Mart restaurant. (Yes, they have a restaurant.) What can I say, I’m a whore for free wireless. I’ll go wherever they give it to me.

We also went to the fair a couple times. The fair was huge and packed on the weekend. Unlike in the U.S., you don’t buy a bunch of tickets or a wristband to go on rides. You have to pay for each ride cash. The first time we went, it was with some of Isela’s family, who had been kind enough to pick us up at the bus station. We mostly just walked around looking at the exhibits, many of which related to strawberries. Irapuato is Mexico’s major strawberry producing region. The second time we went was with Marcela, her daughter Natalie, her neighbor Mari, and her niece. Here is Natalie on the carousel. After the rides we went to watch the rodeo. Mostly, it was a singer riding around on some very sad-looking horses that he made bow, dance, lay down, and do all sorts of other sad tricks. He had to try and make himself heard over the death metal band that was playing on a nearby stage. There was also some bull riding. The bulls go around the ring for a few seconds and then just stop. It looks like they have to force them to get crazy. Natalie’s favorite part was definitely the fireworks. My favorite part was when they got some guys from the audience to chug beers, run back and forth across the ring, and spin around in circles with their butts in the air - all of which they did for a few cans of free beer.

Mostly we avoided the crowds and hung out at the house. We read and wrote and occasionally did whatever chores needed doing. This is Chris doing laundry in a bucket with some baby shampoo. The clotheslines where Chris hung our stuff are attached to an old swing-set. The swing-set is on the roof, which struck me as a little bizarre. (Rest assured, no one actually uses the rooftop swing-set of death.) The nice thing is, it is so hot and dry in Irapuato, your laundry dries fast. (Which is good, because you don’t want it out there long enough to collect a layer of dust, thereby defeating the purpose of doing laundry in the first place). Seeing a guy do laundry was quite a shock for some. When Natalie first saw Chris doing laundry, she told her mom “look, he washes clothes like a girl” (in Spanish of course). Marcela says Mexican men never do laundry. I told her I thought that was very said. But truthfully, not many men seem to do laundry anywhere. Seriously guys, would you just walk around with stinky, dirty clothes all day?

The best part about Irapuato was hanging out with Marcela, Natalie, and Mari. Natalie and Chris became great friends (although, most of the time, neither of us had any idea what she was saying). Natalie thought Chris was hilarious, especially his Elmo dance. Sadly, I don’t have photos or video of that. I do; however, have a video of Marcela and Natalie. Our stupid government is preventing Marcela from being with her husband and older daughter in California. While they wait for years (literally) to hear something from someone, we made a little video so their family back in the states can see them. As you will see, Natalie is a superstar and, like most superstars, she was able to do a lot with a very poor script. Just click on the picture and it will take you to the video.


http://video.google.es/videoplay?docid=1073182877999399833&pr=goog-sl

The second best part of Irapuato was the food. Marcela is a great cook. She taught me how to make pozole, chilaquiles and tinga (although it won’t be her fault when I try to make them and they suck). Chris and I tried to return the favor by cooking a couple times, but judging by the pained expressions on their faces as they ate, I don’t think it was a hit. Julia Child I’m not. Although the food was one of my favorite things in Irapuato, I do have a few food complaints.

Complaint No. 1: Why do they have to change the formula for everything. Aunt Jemima pancake mix (here called hot cake mix) has corn in it - totally different consistency. The mac and cheese has nacho cheese sauce. And the lasagna noodles are all these bizarre, square-shaped, thin “no pre-cooking required” things.

Complaint No. 2: In Mexico, the only available eggs are some scary frankeneggs that are not refrigerated and say “fortified” on the label. True, as Chris pointed out, they don’t come out of the chicken’s ass refrigerated. But I’m pretty sure they don’t come out fortified either.

Complaint No. 3: The cost of a quart of Haagen-Dazs, $12. (Yes I bought it. I was desperate dammit.)

Complaint No. 4: The coffee is the pits. Everyone uses instant Nescafe, even in restaurants. No one seems to have heard of half and half. It’s milk or Coffeemate or nada. Also, the only sugar around is that brown hippie stuff that smells bad.

More on all the excitement in Mexico City next post. Ciao.