Yesterday was probably the most fun I've had since we arrived in Mexico. Since a few members of our team returned home that morning, the rest of us had a day off from clinics. As much as we love doing the medical work, it is quite exhausting and we were all ready for a welcome break.

Our plans were to visit a nearby waterfall and then spend the day in Santiago, a small city about 45 minutes drive from our home base, and even though the day was a scorcher, we managed to coax a little AC from the truck to cool off the seven of us in the front cab.

Our spirits lifted immediately when we arrived in Santiago. We had been told it was known as a colonial city, and it certainly lived up to it's name. After spending a week in the "outback" where everyone lives in filth and poverty, we stared amazed at the clean cobblestone streets and quaint, historic buildings. The city square was beautiful park with arbors and all sorts of carefully groomed tropical plants. In the center of the square was a large arbor with a huge Mayan statue at the center. Two hotels, an old church, and even a museum lined three sides of the square, and tiny street shops overflowing with wares were clustered down the other.

Some members of the team grouped off and began to walk around, and the folks I was with sat down on large benches under the park trees to catch a few minutes of free public WiFi. After sitting for a few minutes in the heat with nothing to do, I decided to have a look around and told my group I was going to the shops. Grabbing my camera case which also contained my money and passport, I headed off in the direction I had seen the other teammates go, enjoying the cool relief of shade as I stepped under the awning that covered the sidewalk and simply served as an extension of the shop.

As I walked under the tunnels of wares that were on either side and over the walkway I stopped in puzzlement; it surprised me that there were only three shops here on the square, when in a city like this there ought to be more. At this I began to study the shop fronts more closely: they were tiny rooms no bigger than 12ft by 12ft, every inch of wall, floor, and ceiling space was occupied by merchandise, the three old ladies who were the shopkeepers sitting blithely in the middle of it all. Picking my way past them I spied something I had not noticed before, a hallway between the chairs where two of the shopkeepers sat seemed to lead to the back of a store, but experience from other third-world trips told me otherwise. I looked questioningly at the ladies and gestured to the hallway; they nodded and waved me there. Slowly I made my way into the hall, letting my eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, and discovered exactly what I had hoped.

Inside was a veritable maze of grotto markets that was nearly two city blocks in size, the only light was sunlight that filtered in from hallways like the one I had entered, and in the relative darkness was the noise and bustle one would expect in any public place.

My team mates being nowhere in sight, I decided to do some exploring. The paths in between the shops were so small there was barely room for two people to pass shoulder-to-shoulder and wandering through the maze brought a dizzying plethora of sights, sounds, and smells. Brushing my way through hanging clothing, clusters of herbs and stacks of tortillas, I peered through the smoke of cooking fires and made a sharp left only to make another discovery: the market was on several levels. Every pathway intersected with all the others at one point, and to see everything you had to backtrack at least once. However, the shops were tiered, and standing at the lowest level you could look up and see two or three shops stepped above you. If it sounds confusing, it was, but that made it all the more fun to explore. I made another turn and nearly tripped over a few dogs that were lounging on the floor, and as I stopped a strange, stomach-churning smell hit me. Being curious, it didn't take me long to find out what this was: the meat market.

This section was different in that all the shops were made of whitewashed bare cement and, and the air was warmer because of the cooking and roasting that was being done. Picking my way over the slippery floor, I wound through the hanging slabs of unidentifiable meat, the sound of butchers' chopping knives echoing through the rooms. I was glad to get out of there and down another set of steps which abruptly dumped me into the sunshine of another open air street lined with produce stands. I spent some time ducking in and out of the market and making a few purchases. With my virtually nonexistent Spanish, buying was surprisingly easy: pointing, writing down numbers, and gesturing of fingers sufficed quite nicely, and when the rest of my group found me a little while later, I was sitting in the shade at the town square, carrying a small bag of purchases and munching on tiny bananas and crusty bread. Our doctor saw the Mexican brand of peach juice I was sipping and immediately asked, "Is that cold?" Happily I nodded, proud of my discovery, and pointed out the spot where I got it. In a few minutes, he returned with several more of them.

We returned home that afternoon, sweaty and tired. My shoe and boot were dirty and my foot hurt, but the fun was worth it! I had never had the chance to explore something like this by myself before, and I was thrilled to have the opportunity. You never know what you might find when traveling abroad, but never pass up a chance to do something new, you just might learn something about the world you never knew before! I am starting to learn that the world really isn't that different at the basic level, even as cultures and languages change, it's easier to relate and communicate that we have been led to believe. For all the new exciting discoveries that are to be made in foreign places, I think that learning how much the world is the same is more important than seeing how it is different, it might even make us treat each other better!