My first visitor

Photos relating to this blog here.

I had my first visit in Mexico a couple of weeks ago, all the way from Australia! That’s right my good friend Jen came over for 3 weeks, joining me on my travels around Mexico and a well earned holiday (well at least for her!).

Arriving in Mexico city, the first thing we did was head to one of the biggest markets of the capital La Merced. As we strolled through the many aisles of fresh vegetables, fruit, meats and every other edible product you can think of, I re-experienced seeing Mexico for the first time as Jen oohd and aahd over the abundance and variety of fresh food and as time went on, shared with me, her initial impressions of Mexico.

After a few days in DF, we set off for our first stop, Morelia where they were hosting their annual international film festival. We spent the afternoon finding accommodation. The first place that we had found on the internet we discovered didn’t exist and so we got our packs on and waddled down the narrow streets, thinking we knew where we were going but in fact being very confused with the very straight forward grid like streets of Morelia! We found a little hostel that had a sunny roof top terrace with beautiful views of the city. In fact, apart from one other girl who we never saw, we were the only ones in the hostel for the entire 3 days that we were there for.

During our time in Morelia we visited lake Patzcuaro which we were told is a beautiful place but for some reason we found it quite hard to find and every person we asked seemed to be surprised we wanted to see it. We had also heard about thermal pools in a small town on the lake, which we especially went for. Instead of finding thermal pools we found row after row of small water slide theme parks, all deserted. It was a strange site to find on the outskirts of a small town in Mexico and a little disturbing seeing all of these parks without a soul in them.

We finally found the lake and understood why everyone was surprised we wanted to see it. But, we still took the time to sit by it and have a drink appreciating the tranquility of the place. Upon our return to Morelia we were told that we hadn’t gone to the right town – makes sense! We also went to see some films that were part of the festival which were brilliant. Poor Jen had to sit through one which spoke only French and had subtitles in Spanish. She managed ok though!

From Morelia we hit the coast, first to Acapulco which in summary looks like the gold coast with high rise hotels surrounding the beach and people trying to sell their crafts/food to the tourists lying on the beach. We did however, meet a couple of Irish lads at the hostel we stayed in (one of them typically Irish and enjoying paying people out – especially me and my apparently strong aussie accent hah! And the other a stock broker bachelor who hardly drinks and is super health conscious) and spent most of our time visiting Acapulco with them. One of Acapulco’s tourist attractions is the young cliff divers who climb a huge cliff with no harness and then dive into the sea. It’s very impressive to watch and terrifying for anyone who has fear of heights.

Next stop – Puerto Escondido! A huge surfer destination, especially for Australians (with lots of bogan surfers…) Both the Irish boys and us were heading to the same place so we decided to travel together and ended up staying for a week! It was the perfect holiday destination, breathtaking beach just across the road from our accommodation, few tourists as it was low season and lots and lots of stunning sunsets. We spent most of the time eating at cafes/restaurants (way too much!), sleeping on the beach, surfing, going out to bars (“it’s just Ooh La La tonight…!”) which were mostly deserted and lots of relaxing. The boys took some surfing lessons and so did Jen. On the first and second day I decided that since I was from Australia it should be in my instincts to know how to surf. Bad idea. Stood up for no more than 2 seconds on both occasions, mainly doing body boarding (or just resting on the board trying not to feel sea sick). On the third day I let go of my ego and decided to take some lessons. I stood up and surfed 2 or 3 waves all the way through! It’s a damn tiring sport but I enjoyed it and by the end I even started to think myself as a surfer (until I was reminded that I had surfed the tiniest and slowest waves possible in a place which has the fastest breaking waves in the world!).

Near the end of our stay we had a little encounter with the local police while sitting at a bar on the beach. A cop came up to us out of nowhere and was obviously disturbed that a street dog with a broken leg started to bark and growl at him quite ferociously (we seemed to attract quite a few street dogs in Puerto – I blame the Irish boy Mark for attracting them!). I proceeded to appease the cop by saying that it wasn’t our dog, but Mark thought it would be a good idea to tell the cop in broken Spanish that he needed to be taken to a vet. Unsurprisingly the information wasn’t accepted with much joy. Three more cops appeared out of nowhere to reinforce the message. They used the pretext of drugs as the reason for their being there but in reality they were just using their position of power to make us fearful and hopefully for them, hand over a bribe as many people do (especially tourists who get scared off). I assured them that we weren’t doing anything illegal but they still kept on standing there. Everyone just sat there looking down at their feet waiting for them to leave. Finally the owner of the bar came and chatted to the cops telling them that everything was fine and that we were under his care. The cops left and we with relief also left but as we turned around to the spot we were sitting, the cops had returned checking the sand to see if we had possibly left anything on the ground.

Our last stop was Oaxaca city, a very indigenous city which still holds many traditions, customs and festivities related to their culture. We had a crazy night on Mezcal, a drink which originates from Oaxaca and which is quite similar to tequila. It also comes from an agave plant and has a smoky flavour to it which is quite strong. A night on the Mezcal and somehow you become a little mad, renting a mass of balloons to pose for a photo from a passing street vendor for example! We recovered the next day by going to see some ruins – nothing like a bit of sun and some archaeological sites to treat a hangover.

As an early bday present, Jen bought me a Temazcal, a traditional Mexican sweat bath which was and still is, used as an integral and important part of the natural medicine here (originates from the Aztecs and has a lot of symbology attached to it). First you are made to strip down and with a simple sheet around you, you crawl into this very small room which is meant to symbolize entering your mothers womb and is heated up to an extreme temperature. You then sweat it out for 10 mins or so until a woman enters and beats you with traditional herbs which are said to cleanse your spirit. Then another spell of intense heat while prayers are being chanted and finally you’re given a rose petal bath. You also leave the room by crawling, naked as if you are being reborn. You feel like you’ve been to death and back after this experience, stripped of everything and exhausted. You are then given a relaxing massage from head to toe which if you’re like me, makes you fall asleep! What an experience!

We went our separate ways after Oaxaca and so parted with they Irish boys. It was sad to see the holidays finish (well for some of us ☺) and sad to know that others were going home (Jen) and leaving others behind (me). We were back in DF at the crack of dawn, having taken yet another night bus and not having slept for much of the journey. We painfully drove around trying for what seemed like hours, to find the hostel that I had the address for and then to find it to be absolutely empty. Finally the caretaker popped up out of nowhere and we were given our room and told that we were yet again, the only ones there. Jen had her last Mexican meal that day and that night we parted, her back to Australia and me staying put. I sat in the hostel feeling sad to be on my own after such a nice holiday but also excited about what was to be next.

San Cristobal, Guadelajara, DF

Many places have been visited since leaving Palenque, well, many more than in the last 3 months anyway!

First stop was San Cris (again!) where I spent 2 days couch surfing with the first couch surfer I surfed with upon arriving in Mexico. 2 girls from Casa Argentina times (Guatemala) were also staying there and it became a nice little reunion catch up. Cinthia and I took advantage of the many bars and clubs located in San Cris to also catch up on some nightly shenanigans and lots of dancing that we missed when living in Palenque. We also went to visit the Canyon Sumidero which has cliffs 900 metres above sea level and is quite impressive especially from boat level, cruising on the Grijalva River. The river flows into the hydro-electric dam which generates something like 35% of electricity for all of Mexico. Amaazing!

Next stop… Guadelajara…

Impressions -

A payaso (a clown) is sitting next to me on a bench in a pedestrian street that reminds me very much of Pitt street mall in Sydney. He is most probably in his late 70’s and has a blotched red nose, white cheeks and a pink face with white lips. He’s smoking a cigarette, his legs are crossed and he is wearing ¾ business pants which have been frayed with scissors. He holds a juice in a plastic bag with a straw sticking out of it and is clutching a bag which has seen better days. He wears a short straw hat that sits on an angle on his head. He looks fragile for a clown, as if his skin might break apart upon touching him. He also doesn’t appear to be too fussed about doing his job, perhaps having forgotten that he is wearing his clown gear. Further down the street sit an old couple on the ground who are selling a collection of bathroom items including a whole lot of dry bristle brushes. The old man is interlacing the raw material together with which to make these brushes. His face has a gentleness to it which invites you to talk to him. The old woman is well marked with coarse lines running all across her face and hands. They look out of place here in this commercial shopping precinct, or is it that everything else looks out of place surrounding them…

There are definitely not as many different cultures here in Mexico as there are in Australia. I have now become use to seeing a certain type of cultural look and when I encounter other nationalities, I catch myself starring at them, amazed at their differences. I now understand why I’m singled out although I don’t feel that I look that different to Mexicans, but the remarks say otherwise. I am also known as ‘la Australiana’ and am identified with the stereotypes of kangaroos, the Crocodile Hunter and surfing, all things that very much describe who I am!

Because it’s so expensive to live on your own, the majority of young people live at home until they’re married or they have a decent stable job. From my impressions, this means that parents are much more part of their kids lives than they are in Oz. This is what I experienced when I visited my friends in Guadelajara. All of them live at home, and although they are given the freedom to do what they want, they are still very much part of the family unit and their parents are part of their lives. Family seems to carry a bigger importance here than in many other places. Sunday is a traditional family day. You see many groups of families out and about, doing activities together and spending time together like you don’t really see back home.

There’s a strong skater culture in Guadelajara, or at least I met many skaters when I was there. The influence of this sport is like anywhere in the world; from the clothes that you wear, to the music that you listen to and what you do in your spare time. I guess one of the differences here is that being part of this culture doesn’t prevent you from still being part of and enjoying Mexican culture. Skaters who listen to e.g. industrial rock or metal still appreciate the classics of Mexico, Marimba and a whole variety of different styles and will still enjoy e.g. going out dancing salsa even if they don’t know the steps properly!

Some of the houses in Guadelajara are absolutely stunning. I have never seen such big luxurious houses in my life before. There’s definitely a very large division between the haves and the have nots here. I was told that most of the mansions belong to the narco traffickers. I guess it makes sense. Where else would they get money to build such humungous houses?! But then all of the friends houses I visited in Guadelajara were also quite big and impressive and most have maids - and this is the middle class. The justification for this is that having a maid here costs much less than what it would in Australia, therefore only the well of do so in Australia whereas here more people are able to afford to do so.

DF – next stop Distrito Federal (Mexico City)

I spent a week in DF and was shown around by a friend of Cinthia’s called Jesus who lives in Colonia del Carmen Coyoacan. He made it his mission to show me DF and spent 3 days being my guide. His parents also joined in and took us out to a Sunday lunch (family time!) to a historical part of DF. We went to Mercado Chopo which is a fusion of many different pop cultures (goths, skaters, punks, hippies) in the one place. It’s an interesting market which has a very slight resemblance to Camden market in London but is definitely not as big. It also has many bloody dolls with skulls sticking out and many more day of the dead type of knickknacks.

On the Tuesday of my week in DF I managed to convince a few friends to come to the Luchas Libres with me. Now the concept here is similar to the more well known WWE wrestlers from the states – but much more entertaining in my opinion! The wrestlers in Luchas Libres get dressed up in what looks to me as super hero costumes and wear masks that cover their faces and makes them look mysterious and tough (until they get onto the ring…). Once they start fighting, it looks like they’re all partaking in amateur theatre, throwing pretend punches at each other, and taking it in turns at pretending to be hurt. The crowd yells abuses at the wrestlers to egg them on and at each other depending on who you support out of the wrestlers. Some people take their wrestling very seriously and many wrestlers are very famous and are worshiped. Masks are sold all over Mexico and are seen as collectors items (yes, I have one too…!) I’m told that 70 year old grandmothers sometimes go along and are very passionate about their wrestling, yelling abuses such as “dale carbon!” (translation: give it to him asshole!) to the luchadores. All in all, it’s quality entertainment!

On Friday just before I had a ‘guest’ from Australia come to visit me, I went out to a club with Cinthia and a friend of hers. Now some of the clubs here do things a little differently to us in Australia. First if you’ve driven there’s usually a car part attendant out the front of the club who takes your car from you and goes to park it somewhere around the club for you. Of course tipping is required. Next if you want to be guaranteed to get in then you need to phone up in advance and book a spot for you and your friends. This way, you don’t need to line up and wait outside for hours like all the others who forgot to call. Usually you have to pay a cover charge which is relatively quite expensive for Mexico. Once you’re in you get taken to a table (you have to be at a table if you’ve booked) and if you’re at a table it means that you have to buy a bottle of something (rum, vodka, gin, tequila…) The only problem is that if you’re only a few then maybe a bottle of liquor is a little too much for you to get through in one night (especially if one of you is the designated driver). Doesn’t matter . Throughout the whole night you have a waiter who attends to you and pours you your drinks at your table once you have bought your bottle. I found this to be the most frustrating as he is always around, watching and seeing how much you’re drinking, ready to pour your next drink even when you don’t want one. If you want to get rid of him you have to pay him for his service which is a minimum of 15 % of whatever the bottle cost. All in all, an expensive night out! Obviously not everyone can afford going to these sorts of 'lugares' here in Mexico…

On the night that my ‘guest’ arrived (the 2nd of October) was the anniversary of the 1968 student shootings in Plaza de las Tres Culturas 10 days before the Olympic games took place in Mexico. A large crowd gathered at the famous Zocalo with banners, megaphones, figurines and buses. The protest in 1968 was during a time when there was mass struggle in Mexico after many years of a one party political system. They had taken to the streets once again to pressure the government for basic political reform. The massacre was a planned affair. Snipers were positioned in large buildings surrounding the Plaza and shot into the crowd killing somewhere around 300 people (this number is disputed). When the shooting stopped the wounded were dragged by the presidential guards and taken away. The government initially stated that it had been provoked by the protesters but later it became known that this was far from the truth. To this day there are many questions left unanswered – Who ordered the massacre? How many were killed? Who are those whose bodies still haven’t yet been identified? The protesters this year at gathered at Zocalo to remember the protesters who died in this massacre and to call for justice once again, asking for the government to establish the truth of these massacres. Police were out in force that night in the streets surrounding the Zocalo. I have never seen so many cops in one place before even during APEC in Sydney there were fewer cops then there were here. Welcome to Mexico!

Leaving Palenque

Check out 3 months worth of photos here.

I have officially left Palenque. That’s right, 2 weeks ago today I left what was my job for 3 months and my home for the same period of time. I left with mixed feelings. A little weary about what the future holds and where my adventure will lead me to but also feeling happy to be on the move again and not locked into any particular project. I definitely will be sad to be leaving my flatmate Cintho – we’ve spent a great last 6 weeks together, eating our way through our time in CAM, with wacky adventures and lots of belly laughs (and food babies!)

A little summary of Palenque for those of you thinking about going to visit (damn you for not visiting when I was there!) – it’s a small town that tries to act bigger than it is, mainly because it has an influx of tourists coming through all year around to visit the ruins nearby. People are a little apprehensive of newcomers (understandably with the amount of people coming for short visits) and therefore are a little reserved. But the atmosphere of Palenque is very relaxed probably partially to do with the heat that it radiates - a constant sauna where sweat runs off your skin in litres. There isn’t much to do in Palenque town apart from eat your way around and check out the nightly activities at Parque Central (normally it involves Marimba music being played and eating deserts from the stalls in the plaza). On the other hand, the surroundings of Palenque have a whole lot of amazing waterfalls, wildlife, jungle, ruins and many, many adventures to be had.

As for a little update on my work, Cinitha and I worked hard to pull together the recycling campaign launch in a little less than a month. It was frantic and stimulating, working to such a tight deadline, but sometimes a little frustrating, especially when people from within the organisation weren’t too supportive or helpful. We had surprisingly lots of media interest and although I was pushed to be the one who spoke to radio and television, I managed to get out of it as I believed that my 3 months old Spanish just didn’t cut the mark to be heard throughout the media! The actual day itself rolled out well and could even be called a success. We had quite a few people who came along, including school kids, media and community members. Of course the municipality failed us by promising to lend us some tables and never turning up with the goods (this was after visiting them 6 TIMES to make sure that they would provide these tables). We solved the table situation by quickly escaping to our office and stealing the tables from any place we could find, wildly piling them into the back of the ute and screaming off towards Parque central. We had workshops on how to make a compost, how to weave chip wrappers into e.g. purses, how to make flowers out of egg cartons and lots more arts and crafts for kids. We had speakers, documentaries, a singer, my guitar group performing and even a karate group came along and performed (without the organisers prior knowledge – not very linked to the environmental theme...but what the heck!)

So after the event I went about trying to make sure that the campaign would be continued (with not much success I believe). I was a little disappointed overall with how the organisation functions in regards to management and everyday work that the workers are meant to carry out. A lot of projects aren’t well planned and are rushed together with little ongoing input. It seems a little tokenistic, a way to say that they have worked on e.g. capacitating women in one day. But, I do believe that CAM has a lot of potential and is well placed to make sustainable change in communities. They have lots of contacts and are close to the grassroots and the coordinator has a lot of knowledge. Little by little changes can be made.

Nest stop - San Cris, Guadelajara and then the famous DF!

Ruins by night

The other day, a friend of mine told me to shut my eyes and to hold out my hand while he got something out of his paper bag. I did as I was told, suspicious of what would appear in my hand. A very light weight item was placed there and I was told to keep my eyes closed and eat it. With distrust I warned him that I was vegetarian but he reassured me that it was fine to eat. I munched on a crunchy, salty item which didn’t taste bad but didn’t resemble anything I’d had before. I was then told that it was an ant. I gulped in horror as I peered into his paper bag that was filled with bull sized ants, all fried and salted, ready for a squeeze of lime and chilli before being crunched on. “It’s not an animal, it’s an insect” he said, smiling. Of course, I had to prove that I could eat them with the knowledge of what they were. With chilli and lime, they’re really not all that bad!

I experienced another unusual Friday night this weekend just passed. While walking a friend to the bus station I passed some couch surfers whom I had met in San Cristobal. They had just arrived and were heading to a hotel situated right next to the ruins. They held a hand drawn map which showed how to get into the ruins from the back of the hotel, through the jungle. We decided to try and find the path that night. We set off around 9 pm with torches in hand. Passing under a barbwire fence which had been somewhat pulled up, we were suddenly in the jungle. We followed what seemed to be a path with animal noises all around us adding a sense of reality to where we were. The blair witch project definitely entered my mind a few times while walking in the darkness. In one instance I spotted some glowing eyes in a bush, which ended up being a bandicoot, scared off by four sets of eyes gleaming back at him/her. Ten minutes into our journey we spotted lights in the distance that seemed to be heading towards us. We turned off our torches apart from one which was a red sensor light and attempted to tread quietly over the crunchy leaves and fallen branches in our way. Several times the path ended and we hastily searched for a different way that would take us in the right direction. We had to go back on our tracks several times to follow a different fork that we had come across. At one stage we were attacked by ants who crawled up our legs and bit hard into our skin (probably getting me back for eating them!). The lights that we had seen heading towards us, we discovered after a while, were fixed lights from the street, not at all coming for us! After walking for around an hour and arriving at yet another dead end, I was ready to head back to camp, not believing that we would find our way there. One of the guys in the group pleaded for us to wait and set off scrambling up a huge rock. After a few minutes he signalled for us to come up. Reluctantly we followed through. He had found signs that other people had been through the same way – rubbish on the ground. A few more minutes of climbing over very large branches that had fallen onto the path, we arrived at a very small wall that resembled some of the ruins that we had seen. Looking over to the right of the wall was a cleanly laid gravel path. I couldn’t believe it, we had made it in! It felt like we were on the yellow brick road, heading for a mysterious adventure. The next few hours were surreal. Wondering around the ruins, climbing pyramids and tunnels, being attacked by bats that were hidden in some of the rooms of the pyramids (seemed like a scene from a horror movie!), scorpions scattering across the rocks of the ruins and looking up from the top of pyramids into a brilliantly lit sky with thousands of stars shining down on us. At around 1am we were all starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation and headed back out of the ruins, along the same path we had come on. Half way through we started to hear the amazing sounds of the Howler monkeys up in the trees above us. It’s an impressive sound to hear the cries of these monkeys so close. One was extremely close by and sounded like what I imagine a jaguar to sound like when attacking its pray. We decided to head onto the road where guards were sure to be but where ferocious sounding monkeys would not. Almost reaching the hotel, a guard saw us and stopped us. He made us empty our bags and pockets and seemed to be searching for drugs (sneaking into the ruins and taking mushrooms is a regular occurrence). He questioned us asking what we were doing wondering around in the jungle at night and did we know that it’s a prohibited area at night, etc. We mumbled something about being lost and he let us go saying that next time he would take our passports (for those of us who weren’t from Mexico). We headed back to the hotel, content with our nights adventure.

Picture thanks to Josh Metzger

Scattered bits and pieces

I have never seen so many people being arrested as I have seen in Palenque. I don’t think that this is a sign that there’s more ‘criminals’ here than in other parts of the world. There’s a lot more police here, as far as I can see, and they are eager to show that they’re out in force, safe guarding our streets. My theory (and not only mine) is that they are more active and visible here because of the tourists. They want to portray the image that there is high security here - so that tourists can go back home and tell their family and friends that Mexico is safe – that narco trafficking is under control and that the rebel group (the Zapatistas) are being monitored by the police and military. A good excuse to have so many police and military populating Chiapas.

The other day I went up to San Cristobal for a meeting. Along the way there, we encountered two military checkpoints. One stopped the bus and demanded that we all get off the bus and stand outside with our bags open. They searched the bus as well as our bags (not very well may I add, if I’d had something stashed away in my bag I would have easily gotten away with it). 45 minutes later we were allowed back onto the bus.

On another trip when I was coming back from the border of Guatemala and Mexico, we were also stopped twice, this time by police. The first time they asked a few people from the minibus to show their identification and let them go with no dramas even though some didn’t have anything to show. The next time they asked the same people for their identifications and those that didn’t have any with them were asked to step off the bus. 20 minutes later they were returned to our minibus. Later on, one of the men who was taken off the minibus told another passenger that he was a migrant and that he had given money to the policeman to enable him to continue his journey – probably up to the Untied States.

I’ve been given another week off from work as the coordinator of the organisation I work for has gone on holidays. Although I think that it’s a little soon for holidays after only starting 5 weeks ago, I still appreciated the time off, especially since I had visitors. On one of those days, we went down to visit Yaxchilan, an ancient Mayan city which is located on the border of Mexico and Guatemala. This site is not half as popular as the one in Palenque as it’s a little out of the way – off the beaten track as they say... Once you get to the border you have to catch a boat along the Usumacinta river, which takes approximately 30 minutes to arrive to the site. Yaxchilan is set in amongst thick jungle, probably resembling what Palenque once was before it was populated by swarms of hotels and tourists. To get to the ruins, you have to walk through this jungle, amongst trees that seem to be 1000’s of years old and have a sense of awe about them. It started raining while we were adventuring our way around the ancient city and this set the scene perfectly for my jungle daydream of dangling vines, earthly smells mixed with rain, ancient mystifying temples and stunning views of the jungle from the tops of the pyramids. An India Jones adventure!

Near San Cristobal I went to visit a small town called Chamula. It has a reputation for holding traditional indigenous (Tzotzil) ceremonies and Shaman rituals in its church. Upon walking into the church you are welcomed with the smell of pine needles scattered all over the floor and 1000’s of flickering candles which people have meticulously placed in front of various saints pictured around the church. Bundles of people are seated on the floor around these candles, reciting prayers, singing, crying, offering beverages to the saints (and drinking them) such as Posh (moon shine from these parts) while children play on the sidelines. A small band plays music while people partake in these devotions. Different coloured candles are for different rituals/prayers and the number of candles also depends on the ritual they are performing.

In a small community festival in one of the suburbs of San Cristobal, I was introduced the local brew – Posh. Derived from sugarcane it is drunk with a mixture of fruit or just pineapple which bread can be added to. It’s strong but with the fruit it tastes just like a fruit drink. At the house I was staying at, they had two demijohns filled with the stuff. We didn’t know it at the time and inserted one of the demijohns into the tap and filled our glasses with it – one mouthful later I spat out the gulp that I had taken, surprised to taste pure alcohol rather than water.

Food and other less important things...

For the last 3 weeks I’ve been living off approx. $30 a week (350 pesos). I had set myself a strict budget without even realising it until the other day when I calculated how much 350 was in aussie dollars and surprised myself with how little I was spending. I decided to increase my budget so that I could actually splurge a little and enjoy, most importantly, all the delicious food around. So now I’m on approx. $60 a week (have to pay for accommodation now which I didn’t have to before). I’m cooking a lot at home rather than eating out which is why I’m able to live so cheaply. I buy as much as possible at the market and then go to the grocery store for any extras.

Palenque doesn’t have the widest variety of food to choose from when you’re cooking at home – the market caters for strictly Mexican diets and the grocery stores are small and full of foods with lots of sugar and processed to the max. No wholemeal breads here, no cous cous (my favourite grain!) and no basil to add for taste. But there’s definitely an abundance of chillies, tortillas and tropical fruits which I have never heard of or seen before. Agua stalls are at every corner of town which provide an abundance of fresh fruit drinks from Jamaican flower to coconut to tamarin and corn. With Palenque’s heat they are definitely a necessity! Paleterias (ice block shops) are also everywhere (which I have developed an addiction for) and so is corn, served with mayonnaise, salt and of course, chilli.

They say that your appetite diminishes when you live in a hot place. I believe this is a misconception – at least for me! It seems that all I think about at the moment is food, which is why I’m writing about it! I have now moved in with 3 girls from Mexico city who are also big eaters and enjoy food just as much as I do (damn, less for me!) They arrived here last Monday and we all moved into a house together that same day. They are here till the end of the year to do their internship with the same organisation I’m volunteering for. This has meant that I have finally relinquished my living room living and sleeping on the floor situation (and inferno…) for a house with a lot more space and breeze entering through its large windows, cooling the house down. There are two bedrooms that we share between four.

I have realised that peoples attitude to sharing space is different here than it is in oz. People are much more communal livers here and share space quite openly with no qualms about sharing all space, all the time. The girls I live with have become like a family. Everything is done together – eating, going out, working… It has taken me a few days to get use to this as I am programmed to live more independently, doing my own thing in and out of the house. The other night I went out for a coffee with a couple of people from my dance class and just before heading home I checked my phone and saw that I had four missed calls and a message from the girls asking where I was and that they were worried about me. I was really touched by their caringness after only knowing me for 3 days. This generally summarises how people are in Mexico. People look out for you even when they don’t know you well. They help you if they can and will share what they have with you if you are in need. Hospitality is taken seriously here. If you are a guest, you will be put first in front of everyone else and everything will be done to make sure that you have nothing lacking, even if it means another person needs to sacrifice e.g. their food or bed for you. Guests are accommodated quite happily even if there is very little space left; there will be a way to reshuffle everyone so that all fit. This happened to us (3 girls and me) when we went to visit a community outside of Palenque on Friday. After meeting the local women’s group and organising some workshops with them, we were invited to have lunch with some of them at their house. They made us a feast for lunch, took us down to the local river for a swim (in all of our clothes as is the tradition here) and invited us to stay for the night. The hammocks were bought out and we were all found places to sleep. We also got taught how to make sweet tamales (if you don’t know what a tamale is, refer to previous post!). We used 70 corn cobs and only ended up with 20 tamales (trust me, it’s not all that much). I was surprised with how much work went into making them, definitely will value them more now!

On a complete different note, I have started guitar lessons. I am meant to go everyday for an hour after work, five days a week. The teacher though, is a little more relaxed about which days he works and which days he doesn’t…! I’m being taught Mariachi style guitar which will allow me to stand outside of my loved ones window at midnight playing him love ballads, as they do here! The idea is that I’ll be able to take what I’ve learnt and apply it to other styles of music…Hopefully! Like I mentioned above, I’ve also started dance classes (my only form of exercise in this intense heat) I’m doing Columbian salsa and hip hop. I didn’t realise that Columbian salsa existed. It’s a mixture of the jive and swing with some funk added and of course, Latin sensuality. I love it! It’s danced very fast and you finish the class completely drenched from head to toe, feeling like for once, you’re not just a sweaty blob but one who has actually done some exercise. Hip hop on the other hand is surprisingly less to my liking (I find it harder to do some of the moves) although we did learn a dance routine to a Michael Jackson song the other day which I’m definitely going to replicate on the dance floor sometime! Speaking of Michael, since his death there has been a massive revival of his music here in Mexico. He’s played everywhere including on the tourist party bus that laps around Palenque at night. All accusations have definitely been forgotten here and he’s now reached the status of untouchable god.

Casa and Tabasco

The organisation I work for is called Casa de Apoyo a la Mujer which translates as support house for women. The ‘Casa’ works mainly in 2 areas: health, which involves consultations by a doctor and sexual health promotion in communities; and support for women’s groups in communities such as micro-credit projects or a community garden.

The first week I started I was told to take a week off as they were really busy and I was quite sick. The following week started off slowly. Everyone was really busy and therefore had no time to sit down with me and talk about what I would be doing. Finally, half way through the week the coordinator and I had a chat and we worked out that I would help launch an environment campaign focused on recycling materials which we could then use in various ways, such as using plastic bottles for seedlings in gardens, or making tote bags out of plastic wrappers/bottles and encouraging people to use reusable bags rather than plastic. I was and still am very excited about this project. It’s exactly the area of work that I am interested in and was wondering before I started if the Casa would be keen to start a project like this. At the moment I’m doing lots of research on how we can use the recyclable material to benefit the women’s groups we are working with. There’s an amazing project taking place in Guatemala where they using plastic bottles stuffed with rubbish to build very much needed housing www.puravidaatitlan.org/index.html (in Spanish but has pictures!).

Last weekend I spent it in Tabasco (right next to a town called Tequila). That´s right, where the hot chilli sauce is meant to come from, but doesn’t. The name was stolen by a U.S. company and adopted as their own.

As I waited for my couch surfer to come and pick me up from Villahermosa (the capital of Tabasco) bus depot, I saw a clown sitting at the bus station, looking miserable. No one else seemed surprised to see a clown just sitting there, blending amongst the crowd. I guess clowns also need to use public transport to get to places – still seemed strange to me. I hear that clowns are quite common in Mexico. Well this was my first sighting of one here.

Also as I waited, I saw a white ute pull up and signal for me to get in. My couch surfer had told me he was coming in a white ute to pick me up so I jumped in and off we went. We said our greetings and 10 metres up the road my fellow driver asks me where I want to go. At this point I realise that maybe I got into the wrong car and so I ask him his name. Name doesn’t match. It turns out he was just passing by and offered me a lift = wrong car! No need to say that I quickly got out (clumsily dropping my bag and sarong on the road in a state of fluster) and said my adieus.

My couch surfer and his best friend had obviously decided that they would sacrifice their entire weekend to chauffeuring me around to the best sites around Villahermosa, the best food and taking me out to various bbq’s and even back to the families for lunch in a small town where one of them grew up. They were the most generous and hospitable people I have met here. I was introduced to beautiful traditional food - a local fish called moharra (cooked on woodfire) which is found everywhere here; platanos (a type of banana cooked in their skin until golden) with cheese and cream sprinkled on top; pozol – a drink made from ground corn and roasted cocoa which is more like a porridge type meal than a simple drink – this drink has been made for centuries and was/is used by field workers to sustain themselves throughout the day in very hot conditions; amazing caramelised fruits which are meant to be eaten with pozol and cocoa slices – cocoa is in abundance in Tabasco – my couch surfers family has fields of cocoa trees at the back of the house; sweet tamales (made from corn dough with lots of different fillings – these one’s had little fruits inside and were the best tamales I’ve had so far!); and last but not least, quesadillas – (tortillas with melted Oaxaca chese) eaten at one particular café called Dona Mary (highly recommended if you’re around the area!) which had pretty much any filling under the sun available including this superb mushroom called huitlacoche… mm..mm..mmmmm!

Don’t have any photos to show of Tabasco as I took with me an uncharged camera… =(