Oventik

I had an incredible experience today. I went to Caracol de Resistencia y Rebeldia por la Humanidad, one of the five headquarters for the Juntas de Buen Gobierno, the leaders of the neo-Zapatista movement in Chiapas. The caracoles (compounds...literal translation is snail or observatory) house alternative schools, clinics, pharmacies, artisan workshops, and land for agriculture (they grow delicious, organic coffee.) They exist to promote the continuation of indigenous culture, language (Tzotzil and Tzeltal are spoken here more than Spanish), and tradition, and additionally, to support the poor who have been removed from ownership of their native lands. They wish to have a government autonomous from the Mexican government, as well as from any other government who bases its economy and socialization on capitalism.

I was pretty intimidated when I arrived. I came with two friends from Argentina and France, and their Spanish-speaking abilities helped me feel better. I was too nervous to talk much at first. They checked out our passports and asked us why were were there, what professions we held, and if we were aligned with any particular political organizations. They were welcoming, but very bureaucratic and all wearing ski masks... My friend explained to me, the masks are not just to hide the identities of the rebels, but also to make race and gender irrelevant. Despite this knowledge, I was on edge (and kept me from communicating with much fluidity in Spanish).



The leaders talked to us for almost an hour, answering some of our questions about their philosophies, alliances, and organization, but were somewhat secretive and responded with very general answers at times. I appreciate the amount of time they spent with us however.

They allowed us to wander around the Caracol. We were permitted to take photos of the place as long as no one's face was revealed or license plates were seen in the photos. We had to carry a permission slip with us everywhere we went and even had to present it a few times.






Seeing the school was great. About 150 students attend the secondary (middle-high) school and the professor teaches them together even though they vary in age from 13 to 18 years old. They were just getting out of class when we made our way over to the school. I was impressed with the attendance numbers since no one actually lives in the compound all year long and it is pretty well off the well traveled routes of Chiapas. The people living in the surrounding areas seem to have a lot of faith in this way of living. I am very much impressed with their level of organization despite being unsupported or recognized by the official Mexican government. They are giving people, otherwise ignored, a voice and an alternative means to educate themselves and I respect that immensely.


We saw the clinic as well. They use modern western medicine combined with Maya herbal medicine. They get most of their pharmaceuticals donated to them from various sympathetic organizations. I was told quite a lot of the donors are from outside of Mexico. They had a dentist working on someone when we visited the clinic, as well as rooms for gynecology, optometry, emergencies, and sick beds for 8 people. The man telling us about the place said there is rarely a day when none of these beds are occupied. There are no resident doctors or nurses in their clinic. They host visitors a few times a year, but other than that, laypeople organize the distribution of medicines and treatments as well as host health workshops a few times a month. I would not mind at all coming back with a team of health care workers to treat some of the illness in the people who seek treatment there. It would be nice to exchange my work for a few lessons in herbal medicine. The herbal pharmacy was my favorite part of the trip. It smelled amazing. I wish we could have had more time to talk with the workers there about their individual contributions to the cause and their skill set. However, the people populating the caracol did not volunteer information very often and seemed pretty removed from our presence in their space.

I just had a rare opportunity to touch an alternative means of civilization outside of what I know. I feel honored. I am curious to learn more.

Enter San Cristóbal de las Casas

Every new place I go in Mexico on this trip manifests itself into my new favorite. San Cristóbal is no exception. I guess I’ll just have to sum it up and say MEXICO is my favorite place.

So, my Chiapas adventure began yesterday. I left the Tuxtla airport and got a ticket for a collectivo to San C. About 30 minutes into the drive I thought, “wait a sec, I didn’t even make sure I got on the right collectivo.” Then I had the awesome revelation that it didn’t really matter. I had no concrete plans, no reservations, no one expecting me on the other end. Everyone should have at least one of those moments. I was giddy. I actually was going the right way. At the end of the ride, a woman in front of me turned around and asked me if I had a place to stay. Turns out she is the owner of probably the coolest hostel I have ever been to (Posada de Mexico)! It is like the Club Med of backpackers without the exhorbant prices. The included breakfast was off the hook! Potato and beet empanadas, herbal teas, fresh squeezed pineapple juice, and yogurt. I am excited what tomorrows breakfast table will bring! It also has a large library, a BBQ, a pool table, and a garden to chill in. SWEET! The best part about it was that I had already been interested in going to that particular hostel anyway and the owner paid for our taxi ride to get there! I take it as another sign (of many) that my Mexican adventures are completely blessed.

I shared a breakfast table with two women, French and Belgian, who invited me to go with them on a tour of San Juan Chamulas via horseback. Totally awesome because I had thought I might go, but was planning on taking a collectivo there rather than a horse. We were out for 4 hours and it only cost me 120 pesos! The ride was badass! It was up a mountain, through a creek, and the guide let us run the horses part of the way (the only time I have ever been on a horse it was walking slowly). My ass is sore in its entirety and there were some definite white-knuckle parts of the journey (my poor 40 year old horse got a little sassy in his old age crotchetiness), but it was a beautiful and exciting way to travel. Bonus, my new friends speak about as much English as they do Spanish, so we only spoke Spanish. Like I am supposed to be doing every day but have some how managed to avoid for 3 months here. It was fun and soooo good for me!

Chamulas may be the most unconventional place I have ever visited. I just read that it is the ONLY autonomous local government in Mexico - Mexican police and military are prohibited from entering. The pueblo’s police force is all decked out in fuzzy white vests! Adorable! Their religion is a mix between Catholicism and Maya though they officially banned Catholic Church priests presiding in their church in the late 1800’s. I was forbidden to take photos in their amazing church because many people there think cameras have the ability to take away souls. I was allowed to go in. Beautiful. The whole floor is covered in pine needles (there are no pews), incense, and candles. It smelled wonderful and I was immediately at peace when I walked in. Along the sides are idols of their most beloved saints with mirrors on their chests to reflect evil from them. At the very front there is an idol of, not Jesus, San Juan el Bautista, who is, only after the Sun itself, the head hancho of spirituality and life. Jesus was there, of course, but his idol was off to the side in a COFFIN. That’s right, the people of Chamulas believe that Jesus was never resurrected after he died on the cross. Whoah. I love that Mexicans have transformed Christianity into what they need instead of what some old fart in Rome thinks they need.

One last gem of information on Chamulas, they use Coca Cola as a ritual beverage. This fact was confirmed by my guide after I read about it on the Lets Go Mexico web site . He explained that they think the bubbles wash away sin. It is mixed with pox, their ceremonial sugar cane alcohol (think Mexican moonshine) and away those sins go. I saw some Coke bottles strewn about the church floor where people were praying.

When I got back I went to a tea house where movies are shown. I saw a documentary entitled, Autónoma Zapatista which taught me how very much alive and well the Zapatista movement is and what it is all about. I applaud the amount of motivation the group has to preserve the antiquated cultural practices of indigenous Mexican peoples, and the organization of this group is on point. They have their own schools, clinics, herbal pharmacies, high production farms, ect. I am interested in learning more about it. First things I want to know are why exactly almost everyone wears something to cover their faces (no doubt a very good reason, I just don’t know) and do they use currency much (one of their main goals is to remove themselves from the evils of capitalism). I also really need to get the whole story on Emiliano Zapata because I only have the most rudimentary ideas of why he was a revolutionary general. Literature recommendations are always welcome, readers.

Tomorrow I plan to check into Pingüino bicycle tours in hopes of finding a group who wants to do the ride out to the caves around here. I am also verrrrrrry excited to see the Mayan Medicine Clinic and Museum (I am starting to want to expand my healing practices into herbology). There are also a million other things to see and do here. I am so pleased that I went with my gut and got a ticket to this place. I am starting to wonder why I didn’t make it a one way ticket…