San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mex.

“EL CONOCIMIENTO ES UNA NECESIDAD
TRAE PAZ Y DIGNIDAD”

Hopefully by the time you read this, there should be a new set of dirtyfotos up online. There are several subfolders, be sure to check the bottom of the page. This is thanks to my friend Bartek of Poland, who is a professional traveler / fotografo who has with him a little laptop. Check out his weblog, he is amazing. A friend of his also travels the same way, taking fotos and such. Currently this guy is riding a motorbike from Cairo to Capetown, Africa. These are travelers.

Here’s more on San Cristóbal:

I’m staying in a hostel, which I don’t like to do, but I’ve become very comfortable and have made good friends with the manager, Luis, from Oaxaca, who is into Macs and mota and music and many good things. I’m paying 50 pesos a night for my bed & use of the kitchen, not a bad deal. On the finances tip I’m doing pretty well, I figure I’m spending about 200 pesos a day, not including long bus rides.

San Cristóbal is a very tourist-centered place. Sitting in a café on Real de Guatalupe, every other person walking by is a foreigner. For me, this sucks a bit and has led to being a bit insulated in the hostel culture… not that I’m complaining. Playing music and chess with Bartek, Jocham (Belgium), Luisa (Germany), Miguel (Mexico) is not a bad thing at all. The other night it got very cold and rainy, so we went out and bought dry wood and three bottles of tequila (87 pesos each), closed ourselves in the kitchen, made a big fire and got down to business. Looking around the table, it’s like afterhours at the United Nations. I do miss Querétaro though, where tourism barely exists and where I spent most of my time with Mexicans. Ah well. I still speak mostly spanish.

I spend my days going to museums, writing, taking pictures, playing chess, conversating. A few days was like a trip into Happy Loganlandía: I found Taller Leñateros, an collectively-run indigena print shop, owned by Mayan women. They make their own paper by hand out of recycled boxes, corn husks, coconut shells, whatever is around. Then they print indigenous poetry, prints, etc. and sell them the world over. So that obviously blew my mind, especially after talking to the women for awhile. ç

I went from there to Café Museo Café, the museum / café about local Chiapas coffee, where I learned el dueño de la montaña es dueño del café. This, combined with I, Rigoberta Menchú, has really opened my eyes to how much conventional café (and cotton) gets to US homes. Through native blood.

Within the week I’ll be in Guatemala.

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Categories: blog