mini tuner!

www.howtotuneaguitar.org

Just in case you want to know how we are, you can see that we are just fine. This is a photo from this morning, Monday the 22nd. We were getting ready to eat breakfast at the Argovia restaurant. They have internet!

The rain has stopped for now and we have a little time on our hands before our visit with the Padre. We may just sit here working on the PNPC information...or we may not. There are birds to be seen.

In the Rainforest

We spent the night in the rain forest and it did what it does in the rainforest…it rained. But this morning it is beautiful. We are surrounded by plants and birds – so many birds! This morning I watched a pair of Toucansillos feeding on the berries. And there are many other kinds of birds, but they are so fast it is hard to catch them with the camera.

If you want to see where we are staying you can go to www.argovia.com.mx It is absolutely wonderful here.

Our plan today is to go see Padre Flor Maria who runs the Casa del Migrante in Tapachula. He has been recognized world wide for his work with immigrants and migrants. This link can take you to a story from National Geographic which mentions his work: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/02/mexicos-southern-border/cynthia-gorney-text/2

Below are links to a few other things:

An article and some pictures of the ceremony when he was awarded the national human rights award:
http://www.el-universal.com.mx/nacion/146414.html
http://www.jsf.com.mx/verconId.php?id=00767&tipo=2
http://www.jsf.com.mx/verGaleria.php?idGal=145

He's got a book:
http://diariodechiapas.com/portal/municipios/3341.html
http://www.ghandi.com.mx/index.cfm/id/Producto/dept/libros/pid/354436

A presentation he delivered in Guadalajara:
http://www.informador.com.mx/jalisco/2009/87148/6/ante-la-crisis-mundial-mexico-se-convertira-en-un-pais-de-destino-flor-maria-rigoni.htm

The site of the "casa del migrante":
http://www.migrante.com.mx/Tapachula.htm

Virginia…

This little girl came in to the café where we were catching up on our email. Keep in mind, the Zapatista movement here is a serious moneymaker. Our café was called Revolución. If you could see the smirk on my face you would understand that this has come to be something that really bugs me. We are inundated daily by women and children selling junk; all of it related in one way or another with the movement or with the indigenous. But it feels like getting the toys from a Happymeal box. They mean nothing and the contact with these people means nothing. We are consumers for them. Thus, when Virginia came in we were taken by surprise. She was pure energy as you can see. Don´t get me wrong, we were targets of the usual sales pitch, but she was still herself. And she meant business. Caro negotiated a deal with her… 3 key chains with little Zapatista figurines and 1 photo with Virginia. DONE! She liked the idea and posed for us. But then she reviewed the photo and saw that her little key chains were not figuring as prominently as they should…this is the result of her insisting that we retake the photo. How could we say no?

PS - we bought the basket you see in the photo too! Virginia insisted and we were incapable of telling her no. She installed the key chain dolls in basket, slapped the top on, gave us a huge smile and ran out of the cafe leaving me feeling as if my heart had just been stolen for good.

Quetzals!!

Day 4 – Los Lagos: After our adventures of the day before, we decided to get a detailed map and an updated tour book. This time we went straight to our destination with very little problem. Upon our arrival we saw a small cluster of people right at the entrance…when we asked what they were looking at they told us it was a Quetzal! I was not fast enough with the camera to get a photo, but here you can see an image of the famous and illusive bird. It was singing a moving about in the trees just as a quetzal should. The caretaker said that the bird was there everyday. I was gobsmacked. What a beautiful animal.

The lakes, of course, are as beautiful as ever. Caro had never seen them and I was more than happy to repeat the tour. We took a tour by balsa (a stretch of about 5 logs tied together with cord and a few short beams set on top for keeping one’s bum dry). Our guide was Arturo. He is the oldest son of one of the Ejidos. The ejidos are men who have the privilege and responsibility as stewards of the area. The positions are severely limited and passed on through a combination of inheritance and merit. One must prove his worth in order to become an ejido. In the case of Arturo it was highly unlikely that he would inherit the post, but one of his younger brothers might. He told us that the post often goes to the youngest son and that the other sons must help in order to strengthen the position of the youngest.

I asked Arturo about Homero, the guide who paddled us through the lakes a few years ago. Arturo informed us with a clear sense of disappointment that Homero had gone to the U.S. as a mojado or, in English, a “wetback”. It was clear from the way Arturo spoke that it was considered a shame that Homero had left. He told us that Homero had lacked the dedication to stay. Apparently quite a few people go. Some come back, others disappear, yet others return but not alive. For Arturo these people were abandoning the community and their responsibilities. I sensed that he thought of them as traitors even though he also expressed to us how truly difficult it was to eek out a life in this remote zone. His own position is not so precarious as others, but even then, at present he has work only every 4 days because the tourists have not been coming.

We continued on our tour but had to head back early in order to make our appointment with Dan and Lindsay from Partners in Health http://www.pih.org/home.html No one who knows me will be surprised to learn that we stayed talking for more than four hours. These guys are the real thing. That is, they are here to improve the health conditions of the people while leaving politics to others as much as possible. Talking with them was a breath of fresh air. It was clear to everyone that our areas of interest converge at several critical junctures. Looks to me as if we will be getting to know these folks.

We had to change hotels in the morning, it was a nuisance, but it worked out to be a great change. We literally moved up in the world and down in fees. We are paying 100 pesos less for a room twice as big with a view that takes our breath away, for a look see http://www.hotelhaciendalosmorales.com Last night we watched a thunderstorm roll in…lightening sliced through the sky as we drifted off to sleep.

15 Minutos…

Day 3 – in and around San Cristóbal: We will be in this area for about a week and since some of our initial plans fizzled out and our first real contact is not until Sunday evening, we decided to head out in the car to see what we could see.

Our plan was to go to see the Lagos de Montebello, but due to the strange instructions we received we wound up somewhere else. What we have discovered is that perceptions of time and distance, at least among those who give directions as if they know what they are talking about, are matters of absolute relativity.

We were told to take a certain road for about 15 minutes and that this would get us to the lakes we wished to see. It was mentioned that we would have to turn at a certain point, but it is a matter of amused debate as to which place that would have been. In any case, there was absolutely nothing 15 minutes down the road. We continued on until we found a place to stop without being smashed by the zooming community transport trucks. There we asked again and were told that no, the lakes were off in another direction but that there were some waterfalls about 15 minutes down the road.

Not less than 40 minutes later we pulled off onto a bumpy entry to the Cascadas de Corralito, which is halfway to Ocozingo, a place we had no intention of visiting until at least midweek. It was beautiful and totally abandoned except for the caretakers who sold us lukewarm Coca-Cola after when we returned from a sweaty little hike.

When we asked, just for fun, how long it would take us to get back we were told it would take about 15 minutes…

Vultures and Monkeys and Crocs, oh my…

Day 2 – Tuxtla y San Cristóbal: So we stayed the night with Kike’s aunt “Mimí” in Tuxtla-Gutierrez where we found ourselves thinking that if the temperatures in Motozintla are anything like they are in Tuxtla we are going to sweat to death if we sleep in our sleepings (a.k.a. sleeping bags)!

On Friday we went to the Tec de Monterrey Chiapas campus to visit with Magda Jan. She is the owner of the finca (coffee plantation) and the professor of the class where we were supposed to form a team with a bunch of students to interview and work with the Guatemalan workers. Unfortunately, she has just 2 students. Thus, this part of our trip is a little fuzzy right now. We are going to go to the finca, no doubt about that, but we will not have a team to work with and we may not even have Magda there to smooth the way for us.

No worries – we are learning how to smooth our own way… In fact, it may work to our advantage. We have tracked down several new organizations working in the area and all of them are open to having us around.

After our time at the Tec Chiapas campus we headed out for San Cristobal. En route we detoured for a ride up river to see the Cañon de Sumidero. It was in spectacular form – the water was literally emerald green:


We passed by numerous Vultures sunning themselves, crocodiles doing much the same and a bunch of spider monkeys hanging out (literally) in the trees. Here you can see the vultures, crocodiles, and monkeys:




The view of the entrance to the canyon really takes one’s breath away. Take a look for yourself:



For more pictures from our trip up the Grijalva take a look at the album on Picasso:
We made it to San Cristobal by about 5:00 p.m. and found a place to stay for the weekend. We must have been tired because Carolina was asleep by 11:00 and I didn’t last much longer.

Day 1: Mexico City, D.F. to Tuxtla-Gutierrez, Chiapas

Late leaving – drives me nuts. Got lost, temperature rising. A few deep breaths and you gotta let it go. So I got out the map, spend 10 minutes figuring out where I am and another 5 figuring out how to get where I want to go. Done. Found my route, zipped through to my destination, had to pull a u-turn to actually arrive, so I did it along with 20 other cars. Found Carolina lickety split. Then things got interesting.

We weren´t sure what the best route out of the city was, so we got out the maps. There we were, looking at maps and debating our options when the police officer appeared seemingly from nowhere. I opened my window and said good morning. He said good morning and then recounted my last few moves to us – I had made an illegal turn, stopped in a no stopping zone, and then stayed there talking. I had to give him credit; everything he said was true. But he did not come prepared. He did not know I was a woman on mission, running late, and only barely escaped from Dante’s 6th level of hell otherwise known as the reconstruction zone of the Circuito Interior. So I told him. He was initially unmoved, but when we demonstrated that we were really looking at a map and clearly on our way out of town, the winds shifted. He took the map as if to help and promptly located us in a place where we could not be. I resisted the urge to correct him. Eventually he sorted us out and told us exactly how we should go. I thought we might just be off the hook, but no. He came back around to the problem of my recent driving habits. I protested weakly, he asked me what I wanted to have happen. I answered that I wanted him to pardon me and let me go. To my total amazement that is what happened. He looked at my license and registration and let us go. In fact, he reminded us of our route, told me to put on my seat belt, and shook my hand. I continue to be quite pleased by this strange turn of events.

Given the behavior of our officer we thought it best to move it before he reconsidered. So we left! And we took his route even though we were quite sure there was a better, shorter route. There was no way I was going to cross his path again. We found our route, nearly lost it about three more times and finally hit the road to Puebla and parts beyond.

We drove over 800 kilometers (that’s 500+ miles for gringos) in about 9 hours, not bad for a pair of amateurs. En route we stopped for mangos. A whole box! Apart from that stop, we stopped only for strict necessities – toilets, gas, and snacks (in that order).

Not yet finished packing

I came home early to pack. It has taken way too long and the car is now officially full of everything I can think of that we might really need. Since we are going by car, my motto has been "just in case." If it comes down to it I can insulate, inflate, or change a flat. Same goes for internet access - where there is a signal we will log on. Tomorrow is the beginning of something great.