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Published: March 5th 2009
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San Cristobal de las casas
On the bus again through the mountains of Chiapas, through alpine forests that were quickly being deforested to create grazing for cows. The route was very twisty and turny as we climbed through the mountains and we were presented with a beautiful sunset amid the peaks.
The on board entertainment was Quantum of Solace which was a surprise as it had only been released in the cinema the same week, however it soon broke out into german at the vital moment in the story. Bah!
Karen slept throughout the journey after swallowing dramamine to counter the tortuous bends in the road - but she was awake during the armed search by the Mexican army, which obliviously Marcel slept through.
Eventually we arrived at San Cristobal de las Casas - a former Spanish colonial town founded in the 16th century and it is located in a valley 2100 metres above sea level, it is hot and sunny during the day and at night our blanket coutn is now 4 blankets and 2 light duvets - brr chilly. We also had a fireplace in our room, which is amazing and we buy charcoal for
50p a bag that gives us heat for the evening.
The town has a very european feel and english weather (rain) so we quickly felt at home but not totally as the town's streets and markets are full of indigenous mayan people with beautiful hand woven huipiles (tops) and big black thick felt-like woolen skirts. The people are very attractive with high cheek bones, almond eyes and big smiles.
The problem with San Cristobal is that it is easy to become lost in time, we originally only intended to stay for 3 days but ended being here for over a week.
The massive local municipal market (not the tourist one), is great and we keep finding ourselves drawn there finding things we never saw before - like a black raspberry that was delicious. The fruit and vegetables were so colourful and varied, the market had all the herbs and spices available at home and many others we just don't know what they are for or how to use them. We also discovered a hot drink that is ladled into cups as the sun goes down and people huddle around the vendor for warmth as the temperature drops.
We think it is made from rice, milk and cinnamon, it is delicious and cheap - 15p.
Karen has to be restrained from buying everything from leather bags to barbecues and watering cans made out of old cans and tins. Everything is so cheap and well made it is a crying shame we cannot carry more than our (over stuffed) rucksacks.
After a few days Karen and I decided to get adventurous and go off to the mountain villages around the town to visit the Amber mines. This turned out to be quite a journey!
We found out there was a village called Simojovel where a lot of mines (people digging in the ground) are concentrated, to get there we had to go through Zapatista controlled checkpoints with men in balaclava's manning the the entrance to the village - things are getting strange.
We change vehicles at a dodgy border full of drunken men in shacks selling beer and crisps, the only other feature being a wooded hill fort manned by Mexican soldiers controlling the hilltop. We jump in a pick-up with an evanglist (who was very nice to us and extremely helpful), we speed off to
a soundtrack of 90's dutch techno whilst flying around bends at crazy speeds and massive drops to the sides- we felt in good hands as the driver had the biggest forearms Karen had ever seen.
Arriving at Simojovel we were helped by the evanglist who directed us to some amber sellers, we then went from house to house looking at small stashes of brute amber brought out from cupboards and under tables. we think that family members mine t locally and you pay by weight - it looks just like stone (maybe it is - we have to wait to get it home).
Then into the town square where there are no cafes, bars restaurants, hotels, toilets - nada!
Hallelujah the bank manager comes to greet us (and escort Karen to a usable toilet). We are the first tourists for a year and he insists on giving us a history of the place.
He tells of the escaped Nazi's buying huge tracts of land with stolen gold to create coffee plantations with indentured indigenous workers, of the uranium in the soil giving farmers cancer and more recently the exodus of men to the US with only 3 in
Deciding on the new colour scheme
We arrived when the hotel was white and left when it was... Guess the colour 10 making it - the others either dying or imprisoned and the recent Zapatista civil war. We find we are in a right wing counter insurgent town where the locals are armed by the US and Mexican governments to fight the Zapatista's. Many indigenous locals have german surnames such as Schmidt and there is a lot of money swilling around the place but concentrated in the hands of very few people, this didn't surprise us as the town looked pretty poor, with huge ranches surrounding it.
We rushed for the last pick up but are stranded in Puerta Catre - the hill fort with beer and crisps as the sun sets. We had promised ourselves we wouldn't travel at night as it is dangerous going from right wing counter insurgency villages to Zapatista controlled areas and the roads are bad and mountainous. We contemplated asking the army if we can sleep on the floor of one their trucks in the compound as we start to get hassled by drunken men.
Thankfully and finally 2 local women manage to flag a minibus down and we all pile in to get back to San christobal in darkness, our pockets filled with
rocks of amber and I worry if one of the checkpoint guards will notice Karen's blond hair and the next you would hear about us was on the telly about how well we are being treated and a statement about the righteousness of the Zapatista cause filmed from an unknown location.
The next morning it is breakfast as usual in the Hotel Los Morales, the breakfast (everyday) is as follows: Fruit (papaya, pineapple and watermelon), Yoghurt granola and juice with coffee, followed by spinach, black beans, plantains, assorted vegetable - squash etc, pork scratchings in a tomato sauce (nicer than it sounds) accompanied by tortilla's galore, then scrambled eggs freshly made with either chopped veg or ham or bacon and finally washed down with american pancakes and gallons more coffee. It takes about an hour and a half to eat and costs only 2 quid!!
In the hotel we have a cabana type room with a balcony and it felt like we were the only people staying - which was great if a little strange, we wondered if people were scared away by the initial price that we bartered hard to get down (we had to pretend to
leave twice). The hotel was so nice looking we definitely had to stay there, away from the usual run-of-the-mill backpacking fare. The hotel was arranged around a colonial courtyard and the place was stuffed full of the original furniture and antiques, the rooms were large and comfortable (a double bed or more each and of course the open fire), the staff genuinely friendly, honest and helpful - please do stay if your in town.
Note: We decided not to take pictures of local indigenous people as they don't really like it, and we felt embarrassed and self-concious to do so, even when they did say it was ok, we said no. Many people were taking picture of the street children who can be as young as 2 or 3 years old and sell individual cigarettes and chewing gums to tourists and locals. This just seemed wrong to us.Imagine going to work today and someone wants to take a photo of you, or just takes it (putting a camera really close to your face) without asking, clicks and walks away.
Note 2: sorry no photos of Simonjovel, it just wasn't the kind of place to get your camera out.
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