| Monday, October 7, 2002 San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, México I
have been remiss in updating you about the latest travels, but plead constant motion. At
any rate, you will likely wish to divide this dispatch into segments, as it is a bit
lengthy. Further, as it covers the last THREE months, it is rather impressionistic, and
any facts, figures or statistics should be read with appropriate doubt as to the
reliability of my memory.
To remind you of what I've been up to: I left the Bay Area in mid-March, 2002, crossed
the border into Mexico on April 4, rode down the Baja peninsula to La Paz (with two bus
rides thrown in), where I was at Spanish language immersion school for four weeks, until
the end of May.
After a quick two week visit back to the Bay Area in May/June, I flew back to La Paz,
said hello to friends and the family that I lived with while attending school, and took
the ferry over to Mazatlan. Since then, with detours to be noted below, I have ridden
(WITHOUT bus cheating!) generally southeast towards Mexico City, and then beyond a bit to
Puebla and the small town of Tehuacan.
>From there, as I am to meet a friend in Brazil in December, I needed to pick up my
pace a bit, and thus hopped two buses, stopping in Oaxaca briefly, then a 12 hour red-eye
bus ride to here: San Cristóbal.
Tomorrow morning, if all goes according to plan, I will hop back on the bike, ride to
the Mayan ruins in the jungle at Palenque, then head for a water border crossing (four
hours up the San Pedro River), and enter Guatemala. Then, a six or seven week journey
through Central America (hitting, I hope in addition to Guatemala, at a minimum Costa Rica
and Panama), a boat (?) ride to Venezuela (all sources say to avoid Colombia at all
costs), and then south to the Amazon, and the city of Manaus.
My friend Melissa and I hope to do a good bit of riding in Brazil in December through
the end of January, 2003. (She was one of my two riding partners for the 2001 California
AIDS Ride, so we know we have good riding compatibility).
Finally, this stage of the world tour should wrap up meeting my friend David in Peru in
February, 2003 (after I ship the bike back to California), and follow the bike myself (via
plane?), sometime in early March 2003.
So that's what's ahead. Now for a review of what was behind. The last update was from
Guadalajara, the capital of Jalisco state, on July 3. After that I embarked on:
THE COLONIAL BUS TOUR
At the Posada where I stayed in Guadalajara, a neighbor of mine was a really
interesting social worker from Michigan and Alaska, who decided to chuck it all for a bit
and explore Mexico. As she was staying in Guadalajara to attend school to become certified
as a "English as a Second Language Teacher," she agreed to store my bike and
extra gear for a few days while I bused up to Zacatecas, which she had recommended I see.
(Thanks, Brenda! I had really wanted to see Zacatecas, but as it was significantly north
and at high elevation I figured biking it would have been counter-productive and sadly
concluded I would see it on my NEXT visit to Mexico.)
The area north of Mexico city was colonial Nueva Espana's mother lode. During the
1600's, the mines in that region supplied over a quarter of the entire world's silver
supply. The Spanish crown grew wealthy as did the local silver barons. They built
incredible baroque and neo-classical palaces over the course of the 250 year productive
life of the mines, which still grace the area.
ZACATECAS, ZACATECAS
Zacatecas itself (the capital of Zacatecas state), is on a high semi-arid plateau at
about 7000 feet of elevation. Dominating the city is a red rock outcropping -- La Bufa (so
named because it resembles a Spanish wine skin) -- that looks over the narrow ravines in
which the city is crammed. Atop La Bufa are a church and small convent, a museum
commemorating the Battle of Zacatecas (an important revolutionary war victory), and four
large equestrian statues of the heroes of the Battle.
Zacatecas is really beautiful -- UNESCO designated the historical center a Cultural
Patrimony of Humanity area in 1993 for its beautiful pink stone late baroque church,
little cobblestone streets, and stairway alleys that climb the numerous hills, along with
tons of 18th century neo-classical silver baron mansions turned into art galleries and
restaurants. To round out the atmosphere, there are nightly concerts and plays and dance
performances (often free, and several a night to choose from).
Two famous artist brothers (Pedro and Rafael Coronel) donated their extensive personal
art holdings to the city, which are housed respectively in the former governor's mansion
and a 17th century ruined convent, cleverly restored in part to supply exhibit space while
retaining the feel of the ruins. I toured the city's El Eden mine by day, and on Saturday
evening, boarded the mine "train" to visit the world's only disco inside a mine.
(Imagine a large igloo shaped space with a small circular wooden dance floor placed atop
the rock floor of the cave. Around the floor were one row of small cocktail tables, an
aisle, and then another row of tables with banquette seating next to the rock wall. A
single disco ball was suspended from the top of the dome roof carved form the rock. About
300 of us were squeezed into the space. Though I had not yet perfected my salsa skills
enough to dance at all, I DID practice my Spanish with two civil engineers in town on a
job. They were quite excited to learn that I had recently biked across a bridge they had
recently repaired.)
LA QUEMADA
Forty kilometers southeast of Zacatecas were the first pre-hispanic ruins I visited. I
hopped a second class bus from downtown and was dropped off at a dirt road which led 2 Km
to the ruin site, visible high atop a hill the whole walk to the site. A really first rate
museum, both in content and in its architecture, introduces the site, which is one of the
northernmost outposts of Mesoamerican civilization.
La Quemada is very low key, with minimal restoration. But several long, wide and STEEP
stone staircases, it's high vantage point with views of the surrounding valleys in all
directions (including remnants of 200 Kms of roads which connected the La Quemada
market/military/spiritual center to a network of agricultural settlements which supported
the ruling elite, along with the remains of the hall of columns (which supported the
largest roof in all of Mesoamerica), give the site a real beauty.
The ride back was enjoyable, as I was engaged in conversation (in Spanish!) by an
elderly man and his two sons, after I made a small donation to his medical fund. (He had
been in a bad truck accident.) He was quite glad to find out that at Spanish School they
gave me the name Javier (as Jeffrey is essentially unpronounceable in Spanish), as HIS
name was Javier, and he had always wanted to know what it would be in English. He went up
the aisle of the bus, asking everyone for a pen, and upon finding one, had me write down
"Jeffrey" on a piece of paper and pronounce it for him several times. He now has
his English name.
Zacatecas was so beautiful, I figured I should see some more of the colonial silver
region. Though my friend Brenda had thought she was guarding my gear for two or three
days, she graciously kept granting me extensions (nearly FOUR weeks in all!), while I
continued hopping buses with my one gym bag of underwear, books and toiletries.
SAN LUIS POTOSI and SAN MIGUEL DE ALLENDE
San Luis is much larger and flatter than Zacatecas. Though not quite as stunningly
beautiful (Zacatecas' buildings are built of pink stone, San Luis' of brown), it is larger
and there are many more colonial buildings. Wandering the city exploring was a nice
relaxing way to spend a week, especially as my guest house was at the south end of a
nearly mile long pedestrian zone that led to the Zocalo and Cathedral. Too, I experienced
my first Fiesta, with food booths (tacos, cotton candy, caramel apples, hotcakes (a fiesta
staple), and entertainment, kiddie rides, etc.).
San Miguel is a fascinating small town which really developed into an artists' colony
after World War II, when a good number of U.S. vets flocked to the Art Institute there to
study under a Mexican artist who had concentrated on reviving traditional Mexican artistic
techniques. The city now has a large expat community of writers, artists, and retirees.
While there, I attended a lecture on female painters in Mexico, saw Monsters Ball in a
Bar/Restaurant that hosts a nightly video cinema, and went to a reading of The Perfect
Ganesh, put on by the local community, which was surprisingly good.
GUANAJUATO
The last stop on the bus tour, was the Queen of the Silver Cities: Guanajuato (one of
my favorites of the trip so far). The city is amazingly beautiful: from the central Jardin
across from the ornate Porfiriato era Juarez Theater, the large white stone castle-like
University, the boyhood home of Diego Rivera, the Alhondiga (where the heads of four of
the Independence leaders were hung in metal cages as a warning against further fights
against Spain), to the two damns east of the city with views of the steep, narrow valleys
into which the city is crammed. Owing to the steepness of the terrain, many of the streets
run underground, with stairways and ramps leading to various spots around town. (One
night, I and two women from my guesthouse attended a screening of Thoth (the 2001 Oscar
winner for best documentary about the San Francisco/New York violinist performance
artist), which was screened at midnight IN one of the tunnels which had been blocked off
as one of the venues for the annual Guanajuato International Film Festival. Other nights,
the crowds of tourists follow strolling minstrels dressed in mideival costumes who wander
the alleys playing love songs and selling wine to the throngs.
To complete my visit I endured the Mummy Museum. The small Guanajuato cemetery
constantly runs out of burial space. So, unless families pay exorbitantly high fees for
permanent residency for their loved ones, after 10 years the remains are dug up to make
room for newcomers. The cemetery discovered that owing to the high mineral content of the
soil, about 5% of the corpses come up naturally mummified. Of these, a few are preserved
in "museum quality" state, which are then exhibited. Not for the faint of heart.
And while a few were interesting, there are over 100 remains on display in endless
twisting galleries with no exit in sight. Worst, the display cases are not airtight, and I
vehemently contend that you can smell the bodies. Ah well. It's a Mexican institution, and
not to be missed.
I should mention that for those with images of "chicken buses," all the buses
I have been on (well, the First Class ones on the long trips), have been modern, and the
nicest I have ever ridden on. They include in-flight movies, and on the Guanajuato to
Guadalajara run, a meal passed out by the hostess as we boarded the bus.
GUADALAJUARA to MEXICO CITY
When I got back to Guadalajara it was late July, and the height of the rainy season. I
headed south, back on my bike, visiting Lake Chapala, and then turned east to see Uruapan,
Patzcuaro, Morelia and Toluca on my way to the capital. After a few too many broken spokes
and a good drenching one afternoon I was about ready to chuck the bike.
The next day, I headed up into the mountains of Michoacan. My first night in the
mountains, I ended up stopping early at a little roadside motel at the Morelia/Urupuan
crossroads. The weather was threatening rain, but the mountains were beautiful, I ate in
an open sided log cabin type place, with the roof beams black from smoke from the open
fire, and an old Purepecha Indian woman making tortillas by hand. I read on the huge back
lawn, admiring the flowers and watching the horses grazing on the hill across the way,
while the local dogs came and begged food, wagging their tails about three feet from me.
The following day was perhaps the most beautiful day of riding I have ever had: rolling
hills at a mile high elevation (climbing and descending between 5500 and 7000 feet all
day), passing through several small highland mountain towns in the heart of Purepecha
country, passing cornfields, and pine trees, wildflowers and volcanic outcroppings. The
Lonely Planet guide does not lie when it says Michoacan is one of Mexico's most beautiful
states. It restored my faith in bicycling and made any hassles that had come before
completely worthwhile.
I learned to adjust my riding schedule so that I was on the road early, cut my mileage
and found a hotel no later than 2:00 p.m. As the rains usually didn't start until 4:00 at
the earliest, that mostly kept me dry from then on in. And, the rainy season is now
petering out, and officially ends with the month of October.
High in a mountain village where I stayed one night, I happened to hit the first night
of the National Guitar Festival, held in a town where guitars are still made by hand. The
next days' rides brought me through a few more highland villages of Purepecho
Indians:
narrow streets with wood houses, roadside shops selling chairs and souvenirs carved from
the forest pine trees, and smoke rising from many houses filling the air with the smell of
fires. I ended with a mad downhill rush from 7000 feet to 5000 feet, for the 20 mile ride
into Uruapan. There, I found a $7.25 a night hotel room right on the town plaza, with
french doors opening onto a big balcony where I sat and read, and watched the city.
The next morning, I hopped a bus to a Purepecha village where for $30 I and a couple
from Tijuana - Lupita and César - hired a horse and guide for a six hour round trip out
to the Paricutin Volcano, which erupted between 1943 to 1952, creating a new mountain and
burying two local villages (but slowly enough, so that the townspeople had plenty of time
to relocate). After climbing (slowly!) to the top of the still steaming cone, we ran/slid
down the side, "foot skiing" down the black volcanic sand. We then rode to the
center of one of the buried towns, where the only thing remaining visible unburied by lava
is the two bell towers and very top of the town church. We scrambled over the lava to
explore the church and climb on top of the walls.
One of the best parts of the trip was talking with Cesar and Lupita, who explained to
me about life in Tijuana for the large number of people who live in Mexico and daily
commute to jobs in San Diego. By total chance, a week later, I bumped into Lupita and
César AGAIN on the streets of Morelia, and we ended up having dinner, and then touring
the city together the next day. They were just as good company the second time around, and
I hope to have them visit me in California when I return.
PATZCUARO
Lake Patzcuaro is surrounded by several Indian Villages which have a tradition of local
craftsmanship started by a post-conquest Bishop who tried to model his stewardship of the
region on Thomas More's Utopia. One village concentrates on baskets, another on ceramics,
a third on textiles, etc. In the center of the lake are three small islands, the largest
of which has a small town on its steep hillsides. After a twenty minute boat launch ride
across the lake to the island, I climbed the spiral path up to the hilltop, where a large
stone statute of independence hero Morelos affords views of the lake and towns. (You climb
up inside the statue, a la the Statue of Liberty, except that the inner walls are covered,
top to bottom, with murals depicting the life and story of Morelos.)
MORE CRAZY BIKERS
I had been on the fence about visiting Mexico City, but finally decided to give it a
try. As it turns out, nothing could have been easier. I found a great route which ended
with a mountain top view of the entire Valle de Mexico, and a 15 mile downhill descent,
and only one freeway interchange required. I stopped four times to ask directions. (At 20
million people, as the world's largest city, it was a bit confusing at first). Each time
the people I stopped to ask could not have been nicer, and gave me perfect directions.
(But, I get ahead of myself.)
Having decided to see Mexico City, I followed a route from Patzcuaro that took me to
Morelia and Toluca. En route, I stopped one night in a small town called Zitacuaro. At the
internet cafe I visited to check my e-mail, the "home page" that came up was a
site called "Down The Road.Org," about a couple from Arizona who are doing a
SEVEN year round the world bike trip. I figured they must have recently been in that cafe,
at THAT computer, and set the home page to their site. Reading through the site I found
out this was correct and they were likely about a week or so "ahead" of me. For
fun, I dropped them a email.
After exchanging a few emails, Tim and Cindie ended up knocking on my hotel door in
Toluca, and we explored the city some and traded stories of life on the road. THEY are
actually CAMPING for a good bit of their trip, and my hat is off to them. Tim and I, not
getting enough riding from city to city, then took a day trip out towards the volcano
which dominates the Toluca skyline. If you go to
http://www.downtheroad.org/Photo/5CenMex2/8Toluca.htm
and scroll about halfway down the page, you will see a picture and digital movie Tim
took of me on that volcano trip. As Tim and Cindie are also heading south, I hope to hook
up with them again soon.
(By the way, their site -- www.downtheroad.org -- is GREAT. It has photos of lots of
places I have been, is really easy to navigate, and gives you another idea of biking
through Mexico. One other site to check out is that of another American I had met back in
Tepic, Nayarit. My friend Grant (who has a wicked sense of humor, and whose Mexico travel
stories are hilarious), is driving a somewhat different route than that Tim and Cindie and
I are biking. His site is at http://www.geocities.com/grmusmc/.)
MEXICO CITY
As I mentioned above, after all the scary stories of killer traffic, subway
pick-pockets, kidnapping/drugging/robbing taxi drivers in cahoots with the police, etc.,
El Distrito Federal turned out to be amazingly safe, pleasant, and relaxing. I settled in
for a two or three week stay of big city life, (that turned into five weeks, more on that
below).
In addition to the amazing museums, the fun of being in a big city (sort of like New
York, except my hotel room only cost $11 a night), and all the Multiplex movies I could
watch (and I watched 'em all), the highlight of Mexico City for me was:
TEOTIHUACAN
In downtown Mexico City is the Tenochtitlan/Templo Mayor archaeological site. Part of
the Zocalo, Cathedral area, it is the ruins of the Aztec (or Mexica) religious/ceremonial
center that stood on an island in the middle of Lake Texcoco, connected to the shore by
causeways, and which amazed the Spaniards (before the destroyed it). Discovered during
road repair excavations, Tenochtitlan's zenith was from about 1200 A.D. to 1529, the
conquest.
Forty kilometers to the northeast is Teotihuacan, which was the dominant force in the
Valle de Mexico from about 1 A.D. to 800 A.D., at it's height a metropolis of perhaps more
than 80,000 people, including warrior and priest ruling classes, a large artisan and
merchant semi- elite, and "foreign colonies" of residents from other
Mesoamerican cultures.
The Teotihuacan site is large, containing the center of the far larger city that filled
the valley. It includes the phenomenal Pyramids of the Sun (the world's third largest) and
Moon, the Citadel Complex, and the long Road of the Dead lined with the palaces of the
ruling elite. Some of the palaces retain wall carvings and colorful frescoes, and you can
climb to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun which gives a view of the whole area. I spent
six hours exploring the interestingly restored ruins, two great museums, and outlying ruin
areas where archaeological work continues.
PARASITES
I finally got hit with stomach ailments. (As one friend wrote, "what's
international travel without amoebas?") After a false salmonella diagnosis and two
courses of antibiotics which only made things worse (I will spare you the details), I
finally saw a gastro specialist who correctly diagnosed my problem and got me back to
health after two weeks of ... well, symptoms.
The good part was that, while in Mexico City I met a couple who invited me to stay at
their home for what they assumed would be a two or three night stay, and then put up for
me the entire period of my convalescence. (They are the ones who found me the M.D.) Too,
while I was there, they showed me the city, their favorite restaurants, introduced me to
their friends, and generally let me see a part of Mexico that I could have never
experienced otherwise. Plus, a long Sunday afternoon of lunch and (multiple) conversations
with their friends was a Spanish IMMERSION experience par excellence!
SOUTHEAST OF MEXICO CITY
Cleared by my doc, and with my lab results back to normal, I hopped back on the bike
and climbed out of the Valle de Mexico (a 65 mile ride, the middle third ENTIRE uphill, my
first day riding after five weeks .. THAT was an experience), and headed toward Puebla, en
route to Oaxaca.
As I had biked the entire time on mainland Mexico, I had hoped to continue the trend
all the way to the Guatemala border. But, the impending November 5 expiration of my
tourist card, and the need to be in Brazil the first of December, made me realize some bus
travel was in order.
So, here I am in
SAN CRISTOBAL, CHIAPAS
Along with Guanajuato and Teotihuacan, I would have to say San Cristobal is one of my
top spots.
At 6500 feet, I am in the highland heart of Mayan Mexico. San Cristobal is surrounded
by numerous Mayan villages where the 33 language groups of indigenous descendants of the
Maya carry on life with strong traditional patterns. The Catholic religion has not
replaced traditional ritual practices, merely supplemented it. Today, I went (along with
an international group of Danish, Dutch, Polish, Irish and English twenty-somethings) on a
tour of two of the villages, led by a Mayan woman who grew up in the second village we
visited.
Luckily, in the first, San Juan Chamula, they were celebrating a three day festival to
honor El Rosaria. (There are about 20 such feasts annually, each dedicated to a
saint/traditional deity.) Mercedes, the guide, explained that Jesus, for example, is
identified with the Sun God, Mary with the Moon and Earth Goddesses, and San Ysdiro with
the Rain God. The festival included a procession of the saints carried around the church
yard, chanting and playing on accordions, drums and harp like instruments, LOTS of
firecrackers, and the inside of the church, its pine needle covered floor bare of any
furniture, filled with the smoke and smell of incense, and thousands of candles on the
floor.
Mercedes took us to various homes in the villages, including that of the
"Cargo" holder who, for a one year term, is responsible for the care and feeding
of a particular saint/deity, and a large home of an extended family of weavers, where we
were fed home made tortillas, essentially made as they have been for over 500 years, and
watched a Tzontztil women weaving on a "waist" loom anchored at one end to a
post of the house, and at the other end around her rear-end.
The village market, in the large square in front of the church was a colorful sight.
Each village has a unique pattern of traditional dress: heavy black woolen skirts in the
first, for example, bright embroidered purple and pink tunics and skirts in the second.
With Mercedes as our guide, we were able to enter a world in some respects far removed
from life as the "modern" world is used to it. On the other hand, Coke, Pepsi
and Fanta are everywhere. One young man passed us dressed in traditional costume, but
listening to his Walkman. And we passed several youngsters, half in traditional dress,
playing basketball off the town square.
So, if you have made it this far, I think that catches you up on my doings. In the
future, I hope to spare my fingers and your eyes by getting back to more frequent updates.
On the other hand, I am not sure about the internet situation in Central America. We shall
see.
Best, Jeffrey |
