23
Apr

Booze, Blouses and Burials – Mayan Villages Around San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico

Posted on April 23rd, 2011 :: Posted in Church, Market, Mexico, video

San Cristóbal de las Casas is fascinating, but you really should get out of town long enough to get a feel for the very different (but equally fascinating) Tzotzil and Tzeltal Mayan villages that surround this city in the Chiapas highlands.

San Juan Chamula

The most-visited of the neighboring villages has to be the Tzotzil town of San Juan Chamula just a few miles from San Cristóbal and home to a famous church. We arrived early on a Sunday (market day) and our truck was immediately swarmed by kids and not in a good way. For the first time in Mexico we felt uneasy about leaving our truck in the hands of these kids.

Tzotzil women selling goods at the Sunday market in Chamula near San Cristóbal de las Casas in Chiapas, Mexico.

But we had no choice, so off we went to pay the 20 peso per person entrance fee that’s required for foreigners to enter the Chamula church. We also get the very clear message about the town’s rules against taking pictures of town officials or anything inside the church. In case you didn’t understand the rules the first time, local men wearing white wool tunics and carrying big sticks were walking around confiscating film and erasing digital photo cards whenever they caught someone taking a shot.

Fair enough. Certainly a town (espeically an autonomous one like Chamula) has the right to earn a little something off the tourists they attract and the locals absolutely have the right to lay out (and enforce) some ground rules.

Festively-dressed civic and religious officials overseeing the Sunday market in Chamula. They'll be drunk by noon.

A traditionally-dressed Tzotzil man gets his sandals shined at the Sunday market in Chamula.

What bothered us was the resentment we felt in Chamula. It was clear that some members of the population have had it up to here with tourists. After witnessing the skimpy clothing and photo-snapping behavior of a few of the folks getting out of mini-vans we can understand that feeling.

But if you really can’t stand us why take our money and fake welcome us in? You simply can’t have it both ways (snatch the cash then wish we’d never come), no matter how cool your church is. And the church in Chamula is damn cool.

Chamula's claim to fame is beautiful on the outside and other-worldly on the inside. Unfortunately, they're serious about not taking pictures inside.

The white facade with colorful blue and green trim is fairly unassuming. Inside, however, is an amazinng world of Mayan customs and Spanish Catholic tradition. Dry pine needles blanket the tiled floor. There are no seats but locals sit and squat on the pine needles as they meticulously arrange candles in all shapes, sizes and colors. Each person seems to have their own personal design in mind and the floor is abalze in flickering patterns–the only light in the whole dark space. Men and boys wander around scraping the dregs of spent candles off the tile and making sure the pine needles don’t ignite.

The walls are lined with niches which house carvings of saints we recognize and some we don’t. Smoke from copal insense obscures their faces, mirrors and doll parts and other offerings hang from their limbs. Some people faced the front altar (the altar paintings were all missing when we visited) and some faced a saint along the walls as they lit their canldes and mumbled their prayers in the Tzotzil language. One woman was swinging a docile live chicken as she chanted.

The effect was hypnotizing–one of the most transporting experiences we have ever had in a church.

A procession exiting Chamula's famous church.

A Sunday procession exits the church in Chamula. Note the Jesus statue wearing a white wool cloak that matches what many local men wear.

By the time we emerged back into the sunlight the resentful vibe eased up a bit as the men (and some women) were becoming increasingly blotto on a clear alcohol made from fermented sugar cane called posh (pronounced pox) which they like to mix with Coca-Cola. One theory is that the belches produced by drinking carbonated beverages are thought to expel bad spirits. Our theory is that the special billboard Coca-Cola put up along the road near Chamula, aimed squarely at the local market, has done its job.

They'd like to teach the world to drink.

Roughly spun wool, which the local communitites weave into fabulously fluffy skirts and tunics to ward off the cold in the Chiapas highlands, for sale at the Sunday market in Chamula.

Exploring the Chamula market, with its gorgeous piles of rough wool and its smattering of fresh produce, and silently soaking up the atmosphere in the church made us hungry so we stopped at a little stand where a woman was grilling chicken. With so many begging children around (where, exactly, is our 20 peso entrance fee going?) we saved some of the food to give to the kids.

Imagine how stupid we felt when we returned to our truck to find that some of those kids had splattered sticky, drippy fruit all over the passenger side window and shoved soda cans and candy wrappers into the bed.

It's a rare treat to find areas where both men and women retain their traditional dress.

Wander around the Chamula market and watch a procession leaving the town’s famous church in our video, below.

San Andrés Larráinza

The Tzotzil Mayan town of San Andrés Larráinzar hosted peace talks between the Zapatistas and the Mexican government (whose represenatives sometimes failed to show up for scheduled talks, accusing the Zapatistas of propogandizing) in the mid ’90s.

The church in San Andres Larráinzar.

We arrived in Larráinzar in time to grab some tamales from a vendor at their market, which fortified us for a good half hour of watching men wearing fancy hats and sashes (members of the local civic and religious groups) stumble around blind-drunk in front of the town’s church. There seemed to be a hierarchy and specific roles to play–some were attempting to dance, some attempting to play music, some orchestrating events–but all of them were too inebriated to do much aobut it. A few were simply slumped over on a bench next to the church entrance.

Brightly dressed, and totally blotto, civic and religious leaders in San Andres Larráinzar.

If anyone has any theories (beyond the obvious) about why binge drinking is a such a huge part of so many market days and religious days in indigenous areas around the world, please share your comments here.

San Lorenzo Zinacantán

Though we arrived too late to take in the market in San Lorenzo Zinacantán (most are over by noon at the latest) we paid our 15 peso per person entrance fee and checked out what this town is really famous for: bright blue and purple floral weavings.

Zinacantán is famous for its textiles in eye-popping colors and patterns.

The colors are almost blinding and the large floral motifs are bold to say the least. The local women look fabulous in the the boxy blouses they make out of these fabrics, but most tourists end up looking silly. Though if we still had a house we would have been tempted to buy one of the blouses from one of the women selling them from small shops in the center of town and hang it on a wall as pure art.

Tenejapa

Another great day trip destination outside San Cristóbal is actually the final destination for many Tzeltal villagers. Near Tenejapa lies the Romerillo cemetery where tall light blue and light green crosses are arranged on the crest of a hill. Like lop-sided sentinals, they keep watch over a ramshackle (and, sadly, garbage-strewn) collection of graves. The small crosses on each grave are color-coded to indicate the nature of the person buried there (old, female, male, a child, etc). Each grave is also topped with a simple wooden door or wooden planks. On Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) the wood is removed so people can “talk” to their dearly departed.

The immediate effect is an unshakable impression that zombies will be shoving their rotting arms up through the earth and rising up through the doors at any moment. Creepy, but cool.

The Romerillo cemetery near Tenejapa.

The Romerillo cemetery near Tenejapa.

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11
Nov

WAY Off the Train – Copper Canyon, Chihuahua, Mexico (Part 2)

Posted on November 11th, 2009 :: Posted in Canyon, Church, Drive, Food & Drink, Mexico, waterfall

Most visitors to the Copper Canyon get off the train once during the entire trip. Our goal, however, was to use the train as a lovely tool to get deep into the canyon where we would get off the train as often as possible. WAY off the train.

After leaving our truck behind with friends we got back on the good old CHEPE, but only long enough to get to the town of Cuiteco where it was pretty much immediately clear that this small town doesn’t see much in the way of tourists.

We checked into the lone hotel in town (though a new guest house called Mirador de Cuiteco is nearing completion) which is owned by members of the Balderama family and was built and furnished with cast-offs from the upscale chain of Balderama Hotels. The place was like a graveyard for 1970s hotel furnishings–mostly in a good way.

An unexpected dash of fancy hotel service may be the most successful hand-me-down here–despite the fact that we are the only guests in a budget guesthouse in a tiny town we returned to our room after dinner and discovered that someone had lit the fire in our fireplace while we were out. Lovely.

Wandering through town friendly inhabitants showered us with greetings of “buenos tardes” and though it would be hard to say that anything of note actually goes on in Cuiteco, the peacefulness (and short walk to a lovely waterfall and swimming hole) is reason enough to spend a day if you’ve got the time.

Tarahumara children at the school in Cuiteco.

Tarahumara children at school in Cuiteco.

A nice hike from Cuiteco brings you to this nice waterfal with a great swimming hole. Regretfully the morning we were there it was too cold for that.

A scenic one hour (one way) hike from Cuiteco (take a guide, there are tricky turns) brought us to this waterfall and swimming hole. Regretfully, the morning we were there it was too chilly to jump in.

Karedn keeping warm by the fire in our room in Cuiteco.

Karen warming up by the massive fireplace in our room in Cuiteco.

The next morning Alberto Lopez picked us up in Cuiteco for the short drive to Cerocauhi and that’s about when the laughing started. This guy is great–knows the area, speaks excellent English and loves to have a good time whenever humanly possible. He was so much fun that we basically didn’t stop laughing for the rest of the day as Alberto showed us around.

San Francisco Javier de Cerocahui church in Cerocahui. Don't miss the hysterical "English" translation of the story of the church in a frame by the front door.

Approaching the Urique canyon a short drive from Cusarare.

Approaching the massive Urique canyon just a short drive from Cerocahui.

First stop: Gallego viewpoint above the town of Cerocahui. Here we got amazing views down into Urique Canyon (the deepest in the Copper Canyon network). From where we stood at the viewpoint–which is currently undergoing a major upgrade with proper bathrooms, new vantage points and more guardrails being installed–the Urique River and the town of Urique were comically small at 4,300 feet below us.

A view of the Urique Canyon with the small town of Urique at the bottom.

The Urique Canyon and the town of Urique way down at the bottom.

The Urique canyon with the Urique river and the town of Urique 4,300 feet below, from the Gallego viewpoint.

The Urique canyon as seen from the Gallego viewpoint with the Urique River and the town of Urique 4,300 feet below.

After the viewpoint Alberto expertly navigated us down the twisting, turning dirt road that switchbacks its way down to the bottom of the Urique canyon. It’s not the hairiest road we’ve ever been on, but the drops are dramatic and there’s not a guardrail in sight. Oh, and it descends about a mile in elevation in the space of just 15 miles of driving.

By the time we reached the bottom we were starving and Alberto knew just the place to go: Restaurante Plaza on the main drag (you can’t miss it–there’s only one main drag and the restaurant is hot pink). He also knew what to order: a cold cerveza (for everyone but him) and matates (stone bowls also used for grinding) filled with a dish called aguachile.

No, it’s not just chile water as the name would imply. This stunner is a kind of thin, spicy Mexican tomato soup absolutely full of peeled fresh shrimp. We each must have had nearly a pound of shrimp apiece and, yes, we ate them all. Not bad for around 70 pesos.

Once we reached the bottom of the canton we stopped for a great meal -- Aguachile.

The steep and windy drive down into the Urique Canyon was rewarded with a meal of aguachile in the town of Urique.

The Urique River.

The drive back up and out of Urique proved easier than the drive down and soon Alberto had us back in Cerocahui where we checked into his shiny new guest house called Hotel Centro Jade right on the town square (look for Alberto or his wife Francia at the Bahuchivo train station and they’ll whisk you off to paradise). We can recommend it because it’s spotless, economical (about 500 pesos for room that will sleep 3-4 people) and comfortable. Each room even has it’s own small patio. And you can’t beat the hosts!

The next morning Francia, took us on a short hike to a nearby waterfall that tumbles through a natural bridge in the rock face, along with their elated yellow lab. We don’t own a dog (except for Grady, but he’s stuffed and doesn’t hike well). However, a well-behaved dog like Muneko (which means “little doll”) always makes a hike better with its full-throttle glee.

Near the trail head to the waterfall we also got a glimpse of a new zip line that has been put up. Sadly, the man who operates it was out of town so we couldn’t take a ride.

Fetch! Yet another waterfall, this one a short hike outside of Cusarare.

Alberto and Francia's lovely dog, Muneko, made our trip to a waterfall near their guesthouse in Cerocahui extra special--and extra damp.

Blue corn, the staple of the Tarahumara diet is left to dry on the stalk.

Blue corn, a staple of the Tarahumara diet, is left to dry on the stalk.

After our morning walk it was time to get back on the train at nearby Bahuichivo station and head for the town of Temoris. Temoris is a mining town that very, very few people ever visit. However, we discovered a lovely place to stay (the Nuevo Hotel) and a great place to eat (Gaby’s). We also found geologists exploring the area for mining potential (hi Larry and crew) and they were all happy to show and tell us about their work. If you’re into rocks, this is the place for you!

Corn stalks drying in a field outside of Temoris.

Corn stalks drying in the sun near Temoris.

We love us some In-N-Out burger, but something doesn't seem quite right here.

We love us some In-N-Out Burger, but something doesn't seem quite right about this one in Temoris...

A view from the road from the village of Temoris, down to the train station. Part of the U-shaped train bridge is visible below.

Part of the U-shaped train bridge at the Temoris station as seen from the road that winds up the valley to the town of Temoris.

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10
Nov

World’s Best Blue Corn Tortillas – Copper Canyon, Chihuahua, Mexico (Part 1)

Posted on November 10th, 2009 :: Posted in Church, Mexico, Mountains, video, waterfall

Though you can get on the CHEPE train for a trip through the Copper Canyon starting in Chihuahua city, we decided to drive our truck part of the way into the region (this is a road trip after all) and we were glad we did if only for the chance to drive through the scenery between Creel and Cusárare.

Many visitors choose to stay in Creel because it has quite a few hotel and restaurant options and a kind of backpacker hangout vibe. We, however, were headed for something much more local in the nearby village of Cusárare along with Dave Hensleigh from Authentic Copper Canyon who was generously showing us the heart of this area, not just the main train stops and guide book listings.

Almost immediately upon leaving Creel and making the turn toward Cusárare (whose name means “place where eagles fly” in the local Tarahumara or Raramuri language) the scenery opened up into a high, flat, wide plateau full of rolling meadows, pine forests, boulders and lakes. If we hadn’t known we were in Mexico we might have thought we were cruising through Yosemite National Park. A dozen miles later we reached the Tarahumara village of Cusárare which felt like a million miles away from Creel and we mean that in a good way.

The village of Cusárare, a Tarahumara village is13 miles from Creel.

Cusárare, a Tarahumara village near Creel.

As we pulled off the pavement and drove into Cusárare it was like going back in time. Tiny hand-farmed fields of corn. Mud, stone and beam cabins. Wandering livestock. Electricity only arrived a few years ago.

In Cusárare we spent the night at Cabanas Arollo Cusarare owned by Bertha Parra, but don’t go looking for a sign or anything. Just continue through town, going right at the fork near the church, until you reach a footbridge that wobbles its way over a creek and leads to a small log cabin painted brilliant turquoise.

The draw at Bertha’s is not the basic rooms or the shared bathroom. It’s the chance to just be there in the midst of Bertha’s extended family and the chance to eat her wonderful cooking. We hope we never forget the rich taste and delicate texture of Bertha’s tortillas which she makes with 50% ground blue corn (which is grown in a field next to her house) and 50% wheat flour.

Inside the Cusárare mission church, originally built in 1741.

The Cusárare mission church, built in 1741, was restored to is original glory following the collapse of its bell tower in the 1969.

To learn more about Cusárare and the Tarahumara who live there, check out Jeff Biggers book In the Sierra Madre. Though he changed the name of the village he lived in for a year, it’s clear from his description (how many Tarahumara villages near Creel have a bus that’s been converted into a cafe?) that Jeff was in Cusárare.

An earlier, and much more influential, resident of Cusárare was Father Luis G. Verplancken who is widely credited with gentle and conscientious Jesuit missionary work and with saving Cusárare’s mission and a treasure trove of religious art that was on the brink of destruction.

While we were in Chihuahua city we met Wendy Suarez, a major force behind restoration and preservation efforts in the region, and she made it clear how much love and effort had gone into the Cusárare project, Nothing, however, prepared us for the beauty of the mission and the quality of the preserved art.

The church is gorgeously austere with a rough (and original) massive wood slab floor, no seats except a stone bench along the walls, crosses and even light fixtures made from tree branches, graphic traditional Tarahumara designs on the whitewashed walls and a notched-log ladder up to the choir loft. It felt both spiritual and rustically artistic.

Religious paintings (including a series of 12 depicting the life of the Virgin Mary) are on display in the impressive Loyola Museum.

We found traditional definitions of art in the Loyola Museum right next to the church. This is where more than 40 oil paintings of saints and other religious icons now live in a protective environment after the paintings were rescued from the Cusárare mission church and other area missions by Father Verplancken. With the financial backing of foreign benefactors the paintings were restored and the museum was built.

Artists include Mexican masters Juan Correa and his son Miguel Correa. The latter created a series of 12 5′ X 7″ paintings depicting the life of the Virgin Mary which William L. Merrill, PhD. and curator of anthropology at the Museum of Natural History Smithsonian Institute reportedly called “a truly spectacular series of incomparable historical and artistic value.”

Yep. In tiny little Cusárare. Surprise!

The 100 foot high Cascada (waterfall) Cusárare.

The next day we hiked a couple of miles to Cascada Cusárare along a rolling wooded trail to the base of the 100 foot waterfall. Though visitors to the falls a few years ago reported that the trail was full of litter we found it to be mostly trash-free. There were even a number of trash cans along the way.

Near the trail head is another gem worth noting: The Sierra Madre Hiking Lodge. Created by a guy named Skip McWilliams and run by Tarahumara staff, this long, low stretch of rooms with a communal porch has a kind of parkitechture meets Mexicana design aesthetic–tiled bathrooms, chairs and benches crafted out of gnarled and polished tree limbs and trunks, wood stoves and fireplaces–all in a spectacular setting on the bank of the creek with views of the hillside and caves on the other side.

What Sierra Madre Hiking Lodge doesn’t have is electricity. And the price tag is a bit steep at $100 per person per night including all meals.

Cascada Cusárare.

Karen enjoying Cascada (waterfall) Cusárare.

Karen enjoying Cascada Cusárare.

Tarahumara girls sell souveniers near Cascada Cusárare.

Tarahumara girls sell handmade baskets, sashes and other crafts near Cascada Cusárare.

After our waterfall hike we jumped in the truck and rushed out to the Valle de los Monjes, or Valley of the Monks rock formations in a wide rolling valley between Cusárare and Creel near the village of San Ignacio.

There are other areas of wacky rocks here including the Valle de Hungos (Valley of the Mushrooms) and Valle de Ranas (Valley of the Frogs) but the monks are the most numerous and the most imposing and we were determined to catch them in sunset light.

But we had to find them first.

An initial sign that pointed us to the right was the last direction we got and the longer we drove over the increasingly lousy dirt road the more we began to worry that we were going the wrong way. Meanwhile, the sun was setting fast. Finally we saw another sign and arrived at The Monks which towered over us imposingly in the last of the day’s light.

The Tarahumara, by the way, call this area of rocks Bisabirachi which means Valley of the Erect Penises. Monks. Penises. You be the judge.

The area between Creel and Cusárare is full of interesting rock formations. A facsinating area is the Valley de los Monjes or Valley of the Monks.

A small area between Creel and Cusárare is full of interesting rock formations including the Valle de los Monjes or Valley of the Monks, though the Tarahumara have a more anatomical name for them...

The Valley de los Monjes or Valley of the Monks.

The Valle de los Monjes or Valley of the Monks.

The small Tarahumara village of San Ignacio sits amidst the rock formations and when we passed through on a Sunday it seemed like everyone in the village was at church or on their way to church. When we peaked in we finally got to see how the Tarahumara worship without the benefit of pews.

San Ignacio Mission church between Creel and Cusárare.

Sunday in the San Ignacio Mission church.

Sunday services in the San Ignacio Mission church are spent on the floor (men on one side, women on the other) since there are no seats or pews.

Another attraction between Creel and Cusarare is Lake Arareko which spills and sprawls and curls itself around rocks and forests, lending an even more park-like feel to the area.