Some things we saw along the way...
Celestun, in the Northwest corner of the Yucatan, is one of the handful of flamingo habitats in the world. Unfortunately I cannot reproduce here the awkward gawking sounds they make, which are about as humorous as their appearance.
And this is the vernacular mode of housing in most of the countryside. I'd imagine it hasn't changed much in a thousand years (metal ridge plate aside). All these huts have a few hammocks hanging inside from wall to wall, the preferred method of sleeping. It's a very simple, low impact way of living. And the purchase of wall space for political advertising was about as common as the huts themselves.
In the village of Cazuma, you can ride an old cart rail reminiscent of the final scenes in 'The Temple of Doom' with one horsepower 9 kilometers in the scrubby jungle to access 3 cenotes. There is only one rail, so needless to say we had to stop and pull the cart off the rail a number of times.
There are no rivers, creeks, or even streams in the whole northern sector of the Peninsula. It's one flat limestone sheet covered with scrub. All the freshwater in the Yucatan is pulled from Cenotes, natural pockets in the limestone. There are thousands of them.
And they make excellent swimming holes.
The village church of Cazuma, a typical example of the religious vernacular in the area. In particular, I liked looking at the sky through the holes in the facade made for the bells. The only natural light in the church comes from the main portal and the two transcepts (though they have unfortunately retrofit it with flourescent bulbs that are straight from the chicken processing plant). It is noticeably cooler inside.
In the nearby village of Holactun (I think) there is another site common to every pueblito in this area of the Yucatan - the abandoned Hacienda. These places conjure images of my impression of Sutpen's Hundred in it's wanning years.
The ruined grandeur of these agro-industrial complexes was built on an empire of sisal and a neo-feudal class structure. In a story so typical of single industry economies, the perference for synthetic fibers spelled the end of demand for sisal (which like hemp, was once used mostly for ropemaking) and the total abandonment of a way of living. Presently, the only thing that has served to replace this economy is tourism.
The church in Holactun is a great curio, which as you can see looks more fitting to the English countryside than the Yucatan. The only other place I've seen neo-Gothic religious architecture in Mexico is in the DF, where one would expect a degree of cosmopolitanism usually not found in the villages. I like to think there is some romantic explanation for this, which would no doubt be related to the Hacienda and a history fitting for a gothic novel.
Celestun, in the Northwest corner of the Yucatan, is one of the handful of flamingo habitats in the world. Unfortunately I cannot reproduce here the awkward gawking sounds they make, which are about as humorous as their appearance.
And this is the vernacular mode of housing in most of the countryside. I'd imagine it hasn't changed much in a thousand years (metal ridge plate aside). All these huts have a few hammocks hanging inside from wall to wall, the preferred method of sleeping. It's a very simple, low impact way of living. And the purchase of wall space for political advertising was about as common as the huts themselves. 
In the village of Cazuma, you can ride an old cart rail reminiscent of the final scenes in 'The Temple of Doom' with one horsepower 9 kilometers in the scrubby jungle to access 3 cenotes. There is only one rail, so needless to say we had to stop and pull the cart off the rail a number of times.
There are no rivers, creeks, or even streams in the whole northern sector of the Peninsula. It's one flat limestone sheet covered with scrub. All the freshwater in the Yucatan is pulled from Cenotes, natural pockets in the limestone. There are thousands of them.
And they make excellent swimming holes.
The village church of Cazuma, a typical example of the religious vernacular in the area. In particular, I liked looking at the sky through the holes in the facade made for the bells. The only natural light in the church comes from the main portal and the two transcepts (though they have unfortunately retrofit it with flourescent bulbs that are straight from the chicken processing plant). It is noticeably cooler inside.
In the nearby village of Holactun (I think) there is another site common to every pueblito in this area of the Yucatan - the abandoned Hacienda. These places conjure images of my impression of Sutpen's Hundred in it's wanning years. 
The ruined grandeur of these agro-industrial complexes was built on an empire of sisal and a neo-feudal class structure. In a story so typical of single industry economies, the perference for synthetic fibers spelled the end of demand for sisal (which like hemp, was once used mostly for ropemaking) and the total abandonment of a way of living. Presently, the only thing that has served to replace this economy is tourism.
The church in Holactun is a great curio, which as you can see looks more fitting to the English countryside than the Yucatan. The only other place I've seen neo-Gothic religious architecture in Mexico is in the DF, where one would expect a degree of cosmopolitanism usually not found in the villages. I like to think there is some romantic explanation for this, which would no doubt be related to the Hacienda and a history fitting for a gothic novel.
1 comment:
Awesome post Simon. I love the Cenotes and the political advertising! Vernacular Billboards! You've got me excited for my visit to Mexico!
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