Chiapas is probably best known to the rest of the world (if they’ve heard of it at all) for the birthplace of the modern Zapatista movement. The Zapatistas (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, EZLN) formed in the early-90s as a left-wing revolutionary group opposing the neoliberal policies of the Mexican state. Their primary goals are indigenous rights and control of their land and other resources. They stand out as being mainly nonviolent, adeptly using the internet to gain support and disseminate their messages, and by placing heavy emphasis on women’s equality and rights. Their signature appearance is the black balaclava and face scarves.
San Cristobal de las Casas is the cultural (not political) capital of Chiapas. After leaving Puerto Escondido, we spent several days there shivering in the mountain cold. San Cristobal has always held a fascination for me, in part because of its centrality in the Zapatista movement, which also attracted many related and un-related development projects. However, I really didn’t know what to expect, arriving there nearly two decades after the height of the international popularity of the movement.
On the surface, there appeared to be little of the politicization that was previously in your face. The city is an intriguing mix of cosmopolitan and indigenous. The main pedestrian walkway and squares are populated with quaint and funky international restaurants, cafes, bars and shops. This is the not the cosmopolitanism of central Mexico City, with 7-11s, Burger Kings and department stores. Here you find the Revolutionary Café where a 7-piece Cuban band entertains large crowds at 2am, several authentic Argentinean restaurants (serving Canadian AAA beef), schwarma, a Spanish wine bar, alternative art stores, and an English language used bookstore worthy of any Canadian city. This, in the middle of one of the most indigenous cities in Mexico. Most of the population speaks a Mayan language (mainly Tzeltal or Tzotzil) as their mother tongue, as well as a second Mayan language and Spanish. The people are shorter, darker, and more reserved than their northern compatriots. Their clothing reflects their geographic and cultural origins, many of them in hand-woven dress.
The political is evident in quieter ways here. For instance, many of the small stores stock books dealing with indigenous rights and revolutionary texts. I happened upon a little store that first appeared to be selling local needlework and crafts, but once I was inside, I saw that all of the needlework promoted the Zapatistas and women’s rights. Little village scenes in bright colours were accompanied by slogans about a woman’s right to participate in work and politics. Trinket vendors inevitably sell Zapatista dolls and barrettes along with hammocks and shawls.
As homage to the best drink in the world, we went to the “coffee museum”, where I thought we’d learn about the process of coffee production. Instead, we learned about the beginnings and success of the cooperative movement in Chiapas that is led by small indigenous farmers. I visited the Mayan Medicine museum, where the practices of traditional indigenous medicine are preserved, researched and taught anew. The museum also has a whole room dedicated to teaching visitors about the injustice of Intellectual Property Rights and the theft of natural resources for pharmaceuticals from local populations. They also pledge to never drink Coca-Cola, because it: leads to obesity, rots your teeth, causes indigestion, leads to osteoporosis, does not support local potable water, does not support labour rights, and supports the assassination of unionists (see the picture of the poster here).
We left San Cristobal to visit the Mayan ruins in Palenque. We stayed near the ruins in a little ‘hostel village’ called El Pachan. One could not imagine a place more distinct from (and less political than) San Cristobal. This area was created several decades ago to offer cheap lodging in the jungle to the multitudes of Western tourists that were coming to visit the ruins. It was reforested by one of the local families heavily involved in archeology, although you would never know it’s not the original landscape because of the speed at which the jungle grows. A dozen sets of cabins, hostels, hammock hooks and tent platforms, and their associated travel agencies are hidden in a set of jungle pathways surrounding a large outdoor restaurant. It is not an easy place to arrive in the dark, as it is apparently more ‘authentic’ to not have signs posted.
I think it may be one of the strangest places I have ever stayed. Staying in a rustic jungle cabin near ancient ruins is certainly magical…but slightly less so when 200 other people are doing the same thing. We met several people who had come for a few days, like us, except they had come for a few days 30 years ago! There are your standard hippies, hemp jewelry, fire-dancers, hula-hoopers and drugs on offer…and there is also a couple practicing ancient tattoo techniques (think boards with nails and small hammers), practitioners of traditional Mayan medicine, a European shiatsu master, and local Mayans who have helped excavate their ancestors’ temples at the main site. At the middle of all this is Don Mucho’s, the only restaurant in the area, itself a strange beast. They make the best homemade pasta and pizza we’d had, and the prices are reasonable…but the service was abysmal (and not in the ‘you should just relax, everything’s a bit slower here’ abysmal…more like 'getting garlic toast for dessert, being served the wrong meal, or getting served an hour after your table has finished eating' abysmal).
The ruins at Palenque, of course, were amazing. As in many ancient sites, hearing the history and anthropology of the area and its people was interesting. Hearing the toucans and howler monkeys as we walked through temples was surreal. But mostly, it was the location of the excavated temples and buildings in the middle of the jungle…and knowing that what we could see was only 5% of the old city, that thousands of buildings are sitting under the encroachment of the jungle. And to think, this was one of the smaller Mayan cities! The pictures (here) are much better descriptors than words.
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