San Cristobal de las Casas

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After being wide awake for an eleven hour overnight bus journey through the winding roads of the hills with a drag racer on the loose behind the wheel (who seemed to love listening to Hispanic versions of such western classics as 'Blame it on the Boogie' and 'Under the Boardwalk'), I arrived in the captivating town of San Cristobal de las Casas. The streets of this place appealed to me immediately, with their cobblestone roads, colourful colonial buildings with small balconies at each window and bohemian people aplenty. I could not help but draw comparisons between this city and Cusco, as they were both located in the mountains and had a very similar 'feel'.

It turned out that I was in this city for one of its most festive occasions, the Fiesta a la Virgen de Guadalupe, which is a huge nationwide festival held on the 12th of December each year celebrating the appearance of the Virgin Mary to an indigenous Mexican for the very first time in history. Groups of people from all around march for days to reach a certain location, with San Cristobal de las Casas being one of the main centres of congregation, with people running for days on end all the way from places as far away as Mexico City. Incredibly, many of the people were bare foot! Once they reach the church which sits atop a hill at one end of the city, they deposit their flaming torch, drop to their knees and then walk on their knees to the foot of the statue inside the church, singing and chanting as they go. It was a festival that seemed to go on continuously for the entire weekend, with firecrackers launching into the sky all day and night. To have happened to be in the city for this festival was a real stroke of good fortune and provided me with an insight into the religious fervour of the Mexican people.

San Cristobal de las Casas is also well known in Mexico for its importance to the Zapatista revolutionary movement. The rebel Zapatista army took control of the city (along with three other cities) in the mid-nineties on the day Mexico signed a free trade agreement with America. The movement is primarily about improving the rights and standard of living of indigenous Mexicans in the state of Chiapas, therefore they have a great deal of support in this region. If a village chooses not to be protected and supported by the rebels, then the government tends to step in and drastically improve things like drinking water and electricity, as well as building schools. They do this in an effort to sway other villages to sever their ties with the Zapatistas; however, the rebels see this as tremendous success, as, without them being around, these poor villages would have continued to be ignored by the central government. As a result, it seems to be a win/win for the people of the region. Those villages who form ties with the Zapatista Army democratically elect their own leader, who serves for three years. During this time, the leader receives no salary for their services, but their family have their food supplied. They instruct the Zapatista leaders what they need for their village and the rules they would like enforced, which have been decided upon democratically. For example, the women of one village wanted to ban alcohol, for they believed the men were acting in an unfavourable and unproductive manner due to alcohol, as well as being violent. As a result, the Zapatista army stops any vehicle carrying alcohol into the village and has it turned around. They simply take their instructions from the village and carry them out to the letter. The Zapatista Army also have control posts on the roads to tourist sites where they collect entry fees. A few hundred metres later the government control post is situated doing the exact same thing. It makes for quite an interesting set up. The money that the Zapatistas receive is then all directed into services and medicine for the villages they support. There also seems to be a great deal of international support and donation going on for the rebel movement, which is quite interesting too. During my time in San Cristobal de las Casas I always tried to buy food from Zapatista establishments so that I knew the money was going to the indigenous people of the region.

Another highlight of my time here was taking a boat ride through spectacular Sumidero Canyon. I travelled through the canyon for about forty kilometres, which afforded me views of the many sheer cliffs which punctured the skyline. Along the way the boat stopped by a waterfall which has created moss in the shape of a giant Christmas tree. As we moved to the base of the waterfall, above there was water gently cascading down further up the cliff. The breeze was catching the water and sweeping it away in drops which captured the rays of the sun as they floated above our heads like fairy dust. It was a remarkably beautiful scene. Along the canyon we also saw crocodiles, pelicans and black vultures, which certainly got the handsome genes that their African cousins missed out on. The only detraction from the canyon was the proliferation of plastic bottles that were floating in the river, at times even clogging the propeller of the boat, such was their number and mass. Much needs to be done to return this waterway to a pristine site.

I cannot conclude my recollection of San Cristobal de las Casas without mentioning one of the most objectional people I have ever had the misfortune to meet. As I am making my way across Mexico with an Intrepid tour group, I have once again had the pleasure of meeting some terrific people who love to travel and experience the culture of a place, making sure their money goes into the local economy. However, there is one man who has riled every single person he has encountered, for the simple fact that he is so incredibly rude. Even though I have seen it first hand, I still find it hard to believe. This fellow is from the United Kingdom and has certainly travelled more extensively in his fifty-odd years than anyone I have met in the past; however, for someone who has travelled so much, he has leanrt so little about humility and humanity. He expects everyone all over the planet to be able to speak in English, so much so that he does not even bother to use even the most simple of terms, such as "Gracias" or "Hola" in a Spanish speaking country like Mexico. This is nothing though compared to his most terrible displays of abhorrent behaviour. Here is one example: I happened to be sitting on a seat at reception where we were staying in San Cristobal de las Casas when he marched into the foyer wearing just his trousers. This was startling enough, but then he hollered to the guy at the desk (in English, of course), exclaiming that there was no hot water. There was, in fact, hot water (I can attest to this), you just simply had to use the right hand tap instead of the left one. Obviously this was beyond his powers of reasoning. Anyway, the receptionist told him to wait fifteen minutes and then try again. What followed was horrendous. The Englishman then said, "You Promise?", to which the receptionist nodded his head, not comprehending the English words. The Englishman then raised his arm executioner style and fashioned his fingers and fist into a crude pistol before stating, "It better be, or I'll shoot you! Bang! Bang!". He then turned to me and said, "He doesn't bloody understand a single word I'm saying. I may as well say (turning back to the receptionist and speaking with a patronisingly slow delivery), 'Wednesday afternoon'". With this he threw his hands into the air, turned on his heel and marched back to his room. Now, of course the guy at the desk understood the pistol imitation and the threatening nature of this gesture, even if he didn't understand anything that was said. In my broken Spanish I tried my best to explain, "Hombre está loco" (Man is crazy) and to just ignore him. I felt incredibly sorry for this friendly and helpful Mexican man who had done everything he could to help us and who always bore a smile. He was visibly shaken and shrunk down into his chair, almost as if he was using the reception desk as a barricade to protect himself from the outside world. I really wanted to give this rude Englishman a piece of my mind, which I'm worried I still might do before the trip concludes in Playa del Carmen. The reason I'm worried is because if he doesn't change his ways after the barrage of words I would surely deliver, I may be tempted to use a more blunt method to get my message through. In the last couple of days I have noticed others in the group simply turning away from this guy when he comes near. Whilst I am not wishing the days away, I won't be sad to see the last of him when I depart for Madrid.

Well, that last paragraph was all quite negative. I guess I just needed to get it off my chest. So, back to more positive thoughts - when reflecting upon San Cristobal de las Casas, this is a state of mind which is easy to achieve. If I was forced to live in Mexico, then based on what I have seen thus far, this would definitely be the city I would choose to live in. There was music in the streets, funky bars, superb cafés, beautiful streets and real character. What's not to like?

Next stop: the Mayan ruins of Palenque.

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