Reunion in Chiapas-Canon del Sumidero

Nearby to Tuxtla Gutierrez, the capital of Chiapas state and your typical late 20th century faceless city which seemed to have grown way to fast, is the Canon del Sumidero, a vast natural fissure. There are two ways to see the canyon, from the lookout points above, and from a speedboat in the Rio Grijalva which flows through it. As we had rented a car, we ended up seeing it from both vantages. This was not the original plan, but I had some pretty lousy navigation (I was designated driver), and in the end, it was not without merit to see it from above and below.

Here are some of the vistas from the various lookouts above the canyon.

Various preferences for recording the moment.
This dated space age lookout was once a restaurant at the end of the lookout road, but much to our disappointment at the time, is now only an elaborate shelter for souvenir vendors.

Down at the embarkment below, which I'm still convinced can only be reached from one side of the highway (see the part about navigation above). At least only one side has any signs whatsoever to give a clue as to how to find the boats.



Nearer the embarkments there are scores of people fishing.

The gentle slopes gradually give way to the sheer drops that characterize the most dramatic parts of the canyon.

It seems like maybe a few hundred people get this tour every day, as evidenced by the numerous other speedboats we passed and saw from the lookouts above.
The wildlife we saw on our tour, the this lazy crocodile is evidence of Mexico's biodiversity: there were also spider monkeys and cranes. It is one of the five most biodiverse countries on the planet.
Our guide took us into one of the many caves in the canyon. This one at the water's edge has the peculiar quality of lacking echo.

Although there has been a concerted effort to clean the river in the last twenty years or so, there was still a visible presence of filth floating in one portion. True, much of it is natural waste, but there is no shortage of plastic bottles and other such refuse. At one time, the entire reiver was choked with garbage (a problem still plaguing most of Mexico's not so plentiful rivers).

And of course, even here, one can find a shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe.
The 'Christmas Tree' waterfall.

A recreation center located on the river includes very long ziplines through the forest canopy that from the looks and sounds of it, seems like a lot of fun.
A vast lake is located at the end of the tour, formed by a dam which has helped to modernize much of Chiapas. The clearings for sheep herding looks absolutely old World, however, as we were all in agreement that this was more something to be expected in Scotland or Ireland than southern Mexico.
The march of progress, complete with Soviet-style monument to the workers who built it.,

Reunion in Chiapas-San Cristobal de las Casas

Last month some of my dear friends came for a visit and during their stay in Mexico we all went down to the southernmost state in Mexico, Chiapas. Chiapas is known for a lot of things: it is the poorest state in Mexico, it was the site of a 1994 insurrection against the federal government (some villages are still controlled by the Zapatistas), and it is generally regarded by many Mexicans as the most beautiful of all of Mexico's 31 states.

After spending some time in the DF, we all met up in the colonial mountain town of San Cristobal de las Casas. The journey was not easy, least of all because we spent an hour heading towards Oaxaca (the wrong way). Our hostel was located in an old house. Here again the view gets great ratings, and the noise the worst. Not because we were near the zocalo or any markets, but because the owners like to play, no, blast techno from 8 in the morning until midnight, every day. This is not what I wanted to hear after arriving at 3 AM after being lost for 2 hours on windy, lonely mountain roads.
Nevertheless, it was great to be back with my friends in the streets of these magical new town.It would seem the city must get a lot of rain (or maybe snow?), as most of the vernacular architecture has pretty generous eaves, something I haven't seen too much of in Mexican urban architecture. Also, I think the di-color horizontal banding typical of many of these buildings is a decent response to the topography.

A flavor of the local churches, which taste a lot like like cake. The flashy baroque (or maybe rococco) style is pretty common in areas where the church had and continues to have an especially hard time eclipsing local religious traditions. The interiors, while not without indulgences, are fairly reserved in comparison to the convention of many other towns in this country. The tension members below the ceiling, a common element of many of the churches in San Cristobal, is like a choir screen rotated twice and placed this time between heaven and the congregation.
The materials utilized run the whole gamut from simple to grand.
Another church, less pastel and more shamelessly wedding-cake.
Some other scenes.
And I'll never get enough of this optical illusion stuff.

We rode horses from San Cristobal to a village called Chamula, but I did not bring my camera as we were warned robberies were known to happen in the woods between. This warning is pretty common everywhere in Mexico, but the only place I've ever been held up was right in front of my house, smack dab in the middle of Mexico City. The ride was gorgeous, as was the village. It is populated overwhelmingly by local indeginous sheep herders, who have there own language and show a distinct preference for wearing black sheepskin. The Church of San Juan Chamala is where Catholocism and the local traditions meet. Pictures are strictly forbidden, largely because the crowds here are remarkably engaged in their rituals, moreso than any other religious site I've seen. There are no pews, the perimeters is lined with tables each with it's own saintly vitrine, and the floor is covered with a carpet of pine needles. Some of the faithful contribute to the 100 or so candles in front of every saint, while others clear a spot in the needles, kneel down, and place maybe 30 candles or so in front before they begin a kind of prayer chant. Some place bottles of soda along side their candles, which I hear are pretty common features of many native religious rituals these days. Once they are finished, they scrap away whatever wax may have dripped to the floor, and replace the needles they have disturbed. As the only outside light comes from two openings in the thick south wall, there is an incredibly ambiance which makes for a very moving sight. It makes me wonder how some people can believe so strongly in something beyond themselves while others seem wholly lacking.

More from Chiapas to follow.

Merida

Any trip to the Yucatan should include a stopover in the 'white' city of Merida. Ours was no different. While it offers some very sober architecture, the life on the street is anything but, offering lively dancing, tasty and unhealthy Yucateco food, no shortage of hookers (in all manners of dress trying to outdo one another), and the occasional fight (the bloodiest thing I've seen in Mexico happened in the Zocalo here, although by no means would I consider this a violent town).

Below are some scenes from our hotel room, which for about $15 each offers an unbeatable view of the the lush Zocalo. I'd give it an A+ on the view and location, and an F- on the noise (the setup and dismantling of the Sunday market structures during the wee hours, the dawn march and buggle playing of the local military flag brigade, and the fact that the Zocalo is pretty happening until say 3 AM).
The cathedral is a standout in Mexico, which says a lot. It is a mandatory stop for the Pope any time he comes to Mexico (don't ask me why). You can start to see why this city, like so many in Mexico, is associated with a color, namely white.
Like a good CU grad, I for one am pretty fond of the stripped down sober interiors that emphasize the light and spatial qualities.
I found this door, and the subtle clash of materials unified by the unorthodox cornice quite interesting.
The unabashed structural expression would no doubt make Candella proud.