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Escapando de la realidad....
Well, I just returned from an almost week long "vacacion impuesta" in Chiapas, Mexico- the southern most state of Mexico, bordering Guatemala. I am trying to process the last 6 days of my life, but it was truly, spectacular. I can't decide if it was the people, communities, and places that I saw, the natural beauty, jungle like mountains, greenery, lakes and rivers of Chiapas, or the people I met along the way that made this trip one of the most inspiring and eye-opening trips to date of my young life. While I could write extensively about the panic and chaos that I have been trying to ignore for the last 10 days, there have been so many wonderful things happening to me in Mexico the last few days that I would much rather share. Unfortunately, I just received word that my fellow intern, Wing Mai from New York, will be staying there for good. She returned this week to think things through given the health scare, and has decided to stay put. While we didn't necessarily see eye to eye on work related issues, and our personalities could not have been more opposite, this is not my place to criticize her decision- "to each, his own," right? My personal take on things is that it has been highly exaggerated, both in Mexico and abroad. What this means for me is that I will be taking on more responsibility at my office in terms of the number of students I work with, and hopefully my boss can help to offset the increase in work I am about to face.
In all reality, I can't complain. I was just given a week of vacation to one of the most beautiful and diverse states in Mexico- home to 9 of Mexico's some 60 indigenous groups and languages. While my office was closed to the public all last week and part of this week, many of my coworkers continued to work. My boss Megan, a former intern, decided to let me get out of the city for a bit and take advantage of the rather stressful city, to travel. I am, eternally grateful to her.
I was nervous about traveling alone- although I had been from place to place on my own in Argentina, this was the first time I just set off without many plans (other than a hostel reservation). I feel like the last 6 days were liberating. Many of the travelers in my hostel were also traveling solo, and it made for an environment where all were willing to make friends, travel together, and get to know people from all over the world. I think the best thing about all of this chaos, however weird that may sound, is that I essentially have spoken no english since this all began. Between being pent up at home with my roommates, and spending a week very removed from most Americans, the last two weeks have been mostly Spanish for me. I feel very fluent nowadays and it is perhaps one of the best senses of accomplishment one can feel. I was mistaken for Spanish, Uruguayan, Italian, and even Chilanga (from mexico city) on various occassions this weekend (Chiapas seems to be less traveled by Americans)- which after years of spanish classes, painful grammar tests, and even more painful essays about literature and poetry from 12th century spain- that is quite a compliment. In all honesty, I feel admist a mini identity crisis at the moment- but in the best way possible. The latina in me is embracing life in Mexico, yet I realize I was raised in the rather sheltered suburbs of Seattle. I instantly befriended a girl Lucia, from Uruguay. Talking with her and listening to her very Uruguayan/Argentine accent, and I was instantly transported back to Buenos Aires. She assured me I have a tour guide and a place to sleep, am I to make my way back to the Southern Cone. I have to say, living here in Mexico and meeting all these people, is putting all sorts of ideas into my head about my life...
I made new friends from Mexico City, Guadalajara, and a Mexican born, Cuban too. We all got along so well in the hostel- all fit the definition of "buena onda"- and I know these are people that I will cross paths with very soon. We have all exchanged cell phone numbers, emails, and facebook accounts. I don't know how or why I have ended up where I am today, but I get along so well with everyone here- I feel like people just make sense. I don't feel like I have to explain myself, and I don't feel ridiculously foreign (most of the time). I'm starting to feel like I fit in around here.
Chiapas is a place that over the years I have read and learned so much about. I remember my first years of Spanish class in high school, reading about the Zapatistas, and not really understanding who they were or why they were so important and controversial, for some. Chiapas is a region home to 9 (i believe) different indigneous groups in Mexico. The picture above is from the Mayan ruins called Palenque, which unfortunately were closed, gracias to the influenza. There is an incredible presence and flourishing of indigenous cultures, communities, and languages in Chiapas. I had the opportunity to visit one such community, San Juan Chamula, tucked away in the mountains above the city of San Cristobal (where I stayed for the majority of my trip). I went with some french travelers from my hostel, via horseback, to arrive to this hidden town. Although Spanish is widely spoken as a second language, the dominant language here is Tzotzil- the name of this particular Mayan group. My visit to this town, Sunday, corresponded with a large religious celebration, unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. The Catholic priest was expelled from this town sometime in the 1800s, and while a Catholic church remains, filled with shrines to Catholic saints, this was not your typical catholic church. The Tzotzil beliefs are the predominant "religion" in this town, and their own practices and customs were very much alive. I walked into the church, the floor was covered with leaves and grass, thousands and thousands of candles were lit, and women, men, the wise and elderly, and children filled every inch of the floor. I don't even know how to explain or describe the practices I briefly witnessed; yet I can say for certain it was a humbling experience. However comfortable I may feel walking through the streets of D.F., or even San Cristobal, my experience in this church in Chamula was a testiment to the diversity of this country- and how little I really know, about this very important group of Mexico's population. It was quite crazy to see the fusion of their own indigenous spritiual beliefs and practices, alongside all of the Catholic saints. I took very few pictures in San Juan Chamula, as local beliefs see cameras as capable of robbing ones soul or spirit... The plaza was veryyy full of people, colors, fruits, vegetables, and people- many many women dressed in their traditional, hand made clothing. What a day.
I also had the chance to visit a place called Agua Azul (blue water)- a place with turquoise waterfalls tucked away in the Chiapan jungle. It was incredibly humid, hot, and sticky (this also brought back nice memories of Buenos Aires summers), and we were able to swim and immerse ourselves in the water. I was taken under the wing by a chilanga family, Juana, the mother, and her two daughters, Monica and Angelica. Like everyone I met this week, they were so warm and welcoming and have invited me to their home, and offered to give me a tour of their "colonia". Perhaps the most interesting part of this trip was traveling to and from the waterfalls. Aside from being painfully carsick from the winding mountain roads, we encountered many "zapatista" towns along the way. The zapatistas were basically a rebel group, that at its height in 1994, entered into a very tragic and armed conflict with the Mexican police/military. The leader, Subcomandante Marcos, is somewhat of a legend around Chiapas. No one really knows where he is, if he is in Mexico, and if he is in Mexico he is believed to be living in a place called "La realidad" (the reality). Chiapas has historically been left out and marginalized from mainstream politics and business in Mexico, and many indigenous peoples and 'campesinos," tired of being repressed, rose up and took arms in the 1990s- forming the rebel group of the Zapatistas. While no longer armed and as prominent as the 1990s, I saw many towns along the way to Agua Azul with murals painted in support of the zapatistas (written as EZLN- it stands for Zapatista Army for National Liberty). Many zapatistas still grafitti street signs (particularly signs with government symbols on them) and their presence is felt. I chatted away with our guide, who was more than willing to share some of this history with me, and even tell me about the time he brought two reporters to the "Realidad," and how he saw Subcomandante Marcos from afar. Beside the incredible scenery I saw, I had quite the history lesson in Chiapas!
San Cristobal was a charming colonial town, full of cobble stone streets and colorful buildings. Our hostel looked out over the mountains, and while the city was rather cold, the scent of afternoon rain was comforting to my Seattle self. One day I went to this amazing canyon with a friend and I even saw wild monkeys and crocodiles- way better than the zoo! We had quite an adventure making our way there via public transportation. There is more I could write here about my vacation away from chilangolandia. However, I imagine you have all read enough!
I returned from the airport to my apartment in the Colonia Roma Norte this afternoon. My roommate Carlos, and his best friend/business partner, Saul were waiting with big smiles when I walked through the door- both are starting to feel like older brothers to me. The city is calming, the facemasks are lessening, restaurants are opening, and friends are calling. Back to the 9 to 5 grind tomorrow- I am feeling incredibly, relaxed, tranquila, and happy with life.
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