21 Days in Mexico- Days 17-21 (Guadalajara & DF)

January 25, 2015

Day 17- Friday, January 9, 2015: Oaxaca, Oaxaca, Mexico -> Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico

We rolled out of the hostel while it was still dark and just gave in and took a taxi for $100 pesos (although he initially asked for $120 pesos) since we were getting all types of contradictory information as to how to get to the airport via public transpo. We got to the airport in about 25 minutes at around 7ish. This time we were flying Interjet. For some reason our flight never ever appeared on a monitor for departures, which made us feel uneasy. We thought our flight was at 9:30am because that’s what was inputted in Google Calendar but it wasn’t until we started asking when our flight was set to board that we realized that it was inputted incorrectly because of the hour time difference (watch out for that shit!). So good thing we got there nice and early. The flight was late anyway and we had a layover in DF, which was unfortunate because the flight should’ve been a lot quicker but we got to Guadalajara around noonish.

They didn’t even pretend to have a tourist info center at the Guadalajara Airport and when we asked about a map they said we needed to get one from a hotel or travel agency. Gracias. We hit up Ivan, our Guadalajara Couchsurfing host, and he told us how to get to his apartment in the center of Guadalajara via a public bus ($6 pesos) and taxi ($40 pesos).Oaxaca to Guadalajara

The second that bus reached the bus station you just knew you weren’t in Kansas anymore. There was just something a whole lot grittier about GDL than the places we’d been up until this point. We got to Ivan’s street on Calle Jesus. It’s this ill sort of republic style house with a cool terrace and ridiculously high ceilings. We rapped with Ivan, a native of DF and somewhere further north in Mexico, and then got a tour around the center with him.

That polite, lack of staring, I valued so much in DF went right out the window in Guadalajara. Men in particular stare harrrrrd, right on through your clothes.

We made our way later to a cool tea/hookah restaurant called Darjeeling (Casa de Té) where we met up with a friend of Ivan’s.

We then walked around a more upper class neighborhood to Calle Chapultepec which had a number of cool restaurants and bars. We stopped for a crepe at a local food truck and cabbed it back to Ivan’s. Ivan got us hip to the crime in Guadalajara so it was clear that while shit may feel cool, it’s almost always better to take a cab come nightfall. We then rapped on Ivan’s terrace with some more folks from Cuernavaca and DF as we drank wine, champagne and Bohemia beer. (Yeh, I know. I should’ve had the headache of the century the next day.) Like most of these encounters we spoke about the socio-economic-political scene of various cities and countries (Mexico, US, Germany, Colombia etc.), relationships, etc. It was a further instantiation of the beauty of the kind of travel where you actually get to know and understand people in the space in which you’re moving about.

Day 18- Saturday, January 10, 2015: Day 2 in Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico

We headed up to Chapultepec around noon because Ivan told us there was a market there. But there and everywhere we walked seemed to be sleeping on Saturday morning. Vendors were just starting to set up when we arrived. And as we tried to figure out what to do we felt the fatigue that had been accumulating over the course of the last 18 days. We stopped at a cute little place called Mon Cote Care on La Paz to recuperate for a bit and check the internet since we’d been without it since we left Oaxaca. We eventually made our way back to the center of town on foot and on our way ran into this shocker.

This dude didn’t just have the swastika; he also had the German flag and this Reichsadler imperial eagle.

The shit was scary. I felt like he was gonna come bash us as I took these pics. Salma noted that this is completely illegal in Germany. That car would’ve been confiscated. But I guess homey thinks it’s no holds barred in Mexico. Boo the hell outta that piece of Nazi trash.

We ended up eating at a popular traditional restaurant called “La Gorda” on 16 de Septiembre and again just worked our way around.

Mercado Libertad "Liberty Market" or San Juan de Dios

After it all we ended up crashing that night from traveller’s fatigue.

Day 19- Sunday, January 11, 2015: Day 3 in Guadalajara/Tlaquepaque, Jalisco, Mexico

We really felt beat down come Sunday morn. We hadn’t been sleeping well thanks to a nightclub behind the house that went hard Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights til dawn. We went to what appeared to be a family-run sandwich and juice spot called La Insalata Verdi on the corner of Juarez by the park and had some much needed and gratifying grub. On Sundays they appear to shut down Juarez for cycling, roller-blading, skate-boarding and walking. The park was full of people of all ages jumping rope, playing with hula hoops, doing acro-yoga and other activities. It was a real dope plus for the city.

We were attempting to make our way to a nearby city called Tlaquepaque but was given incorrect info about the bus so we were waiting on the wrong corner. We made our way own to Calle 16 de Septiembre to jump on the actual bus and were there in about 20 minutes. We had to walk to the city center and as we neared the plaza in the center I saw everyone still and staring upward up. That’s when I saw them, Danza de los Voladores (Dance of the Flyers).

We kept walking around the center which was a cool spot for shopping.

And came upon this store with some badass furniture. It made me get the homemaker itch.

We later hopped on a bus back to Guadalajara and went to restaurant called Madrid something or another where the old school waiter insisted upon calling us, “Morenazas” (sort of like beautiful, big, dark-skinned women) as if it were our actual names.

We walked to Ivan’s house and kicked it with him on the terrace, then walked with him and his roommate Gustavo to the market that starts at 7pm in front of the Iglesia del Expiatorio to the Mercado Dominguero del Expiatorio where they had vegetarian food, vendors, sweets, craft and lots of people hanging out enjoying it all. It was another cool plus for Guadalajara.

We got back and spent our last night with Ivan, who was really such a sweet, creative and kind-hearted soul, and who were it not for Couchsurfers we would've likely never met.

Day 20- Monday, January 12, 2015: Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico -> Distrito Federal (Mexico City)

We caught a cab back to the bus terminal around 7am but didn’t catch the bus until around 7:45am. We weren’t let off at the correct terminal and finally got to Terminal 2 where all of the domestic flights were leaving with VivaAerobus. This is the lowwww budget airline in Mexico. Their tag line is even “The low cost airline of Mexico.” Our tix cost us about $25, which is the least amount of money I believe I've ever paid for a plane ticket in my life, but we still didn’t expect the shit to be thaaat low-budget. The line was out of control at the airport just to check in. Then it was bananas to get through security because it appeared that there was but one line for everrrrryone to go through. After 30 min or so of the line working it’s way down the terminal they decided to open the second gate. What!?! There were two this whole time? Again, it’s really important to give yourself plenty of time for airport/transpo foolishness in these sorts of trips with lots of variables and uncertainties.

We boarded soon after we made it through security. We had no idea that being in Group 4 meant we were the last to board, which wouldn’t have been a big deal except that there were no assigned seats! Yep, "get in where you fit in" style. Salma’s seat felt weird and before we took off she pulled the thing up like a band-aid on your arm. There were pieces of paper hanging from the ceiling and when the plane took off the tray table of the dude next to us fell down like something out of comedy called, “When Planes Fall Apart.”

But in the end we landed safely after about an hour. But oh no, it can’t stop there. We get to baggage claim and our Salma’s bag is completely open and the side-pocket of my suitcase is completely open. Hell nah. And it was only our bags and the bag of another girl who when she opened her’s realized that her perfume was missing. I luckily had my main compartment locked, exactly for this reason. The folks at baggage had us fill out reports and told us that this tends to happen more from places like Cancun and Monterrey where they are less regulated. He was surprised it happened coming from Guadalajara but said that it does happen with manual baggage checking. Some shady folks had to tip someone off at GDL that our bags seemed like they might have some goodies. But why not close the bags? He said the folks that have their bags closed are even more likely have had things stolen and won’t realize until they arrive home. Come on, VivaAerobus. Do better.

We took two trains back to Silvia’s, chilled for a bit then took the Trolebus to Salto del Agua. While on the trolly Salma was examining the subway map when an older man out of nowhere asked if we needed help and then said we were getting off at the same stop and got off and walked with us down the street. And he didn’t want anything! The helpfulness and niceness of folks in Distrito Federal is still shocking and refreshing to me.

We walked back to Mercado Ciudadela for last minute shopping. But after an hour we met up and both had the same distraught, tired faces. We were over it. The shopping all felt the same at this point. Oh and of course more of these.

And for some reason I was just starting to rapidly get sick, sneezing everywhere and feeling like shit. You won, Mexico. I’m beat.

After making our last purchases we took the subway to Insurgentes to meet Ixtzel and her friend for the last time. We then got to see a bit of Avenida Colima and Obregon in the Roma neighborhood that I’d read about in the 36 Hrs in Mexico City piece in the NYTimes. It’s a fly neighborhood with cute places to eat and drink, little boutiques. It was super Euro. We ate at a spot called Billiard Lucille and said our final goodbyes before being dropped at the train station.

Day 21- Monday, January 13, 2015: Distrito Federal (Mexico City)-> New York City

My travel partner for the last 3 weeks left at 6am. I rested for a few hours more before packing up. Then I sat rapping with Silvia and just started building on the different projects we want to work on and it was just so damn fortuitous that it was her house that we stayed in. I got great ideas about the website I’d like to create and I was giving her suggestions about the classes she wants to start teaching in, guess what, web page creation. It was great. Of course it meant that I was super behind in getting ready and had to take a cab to the airport ($103 pesos) but it was more than worth it. Because here it is! www.machetesandhoney.com! Woo hoo! (UPDATE: now www.machetesymiel.com)

21 Days in Mexico- Days 14-16 (Oaxaca)

January 16, 2015

Day 14- Tuesday, January 6, 2015: Day 1 in Oaxaca, Oaxaca

We arrived at the bus station around 7am and tried to contact Eduardo, the guy who was supposed to host us from Couchsurfers. But here he goes talking about some, “oh last night my roommate's friends came so you can’t stay tonight but you can stay tomorrow.” Boo. The tourist kiosk didn’t open until 9am at which point we got some hostel recs (couldn’t check the internet because there was no wi-fi, although there was an internet café). We got in a cab, which seemed overpriced at $40 pesos considering the walk was supposed to be 15 min., but we had all our stuff so we sucked it up. We had to stop at a few hostels before we ended up at a really low-end one called Posada Tanguyuu. The rates worked ($300 pesos per night, USD$11 each) for our private room and bath so we went with it, thinking we’d only have to stay one night. They allowed us to check in early and we dropped our things and rolled out to explore Oaxaca City.

We first went through Oaxaca City’s Zócalo. And it was striking because it was full of tents and signs referring to the 43 Ayotzinapa missing students. The encampments appeared to be set up in protest. I’ve mentioned previously the importance of these disappearances in terms of the political movement they’ve incited throughout Mexico, particularly in the state of Guerreros where the students were disappeared (see Tens of thousands protest massacre of Mexican student teachers). This spirit of anger and sadness was really visceral in Oaxaca City.

Regardless of whether folks actually consider it frequently, the political economy of a country affects most aspects of people's daily lives. As a sociologist, educator and former community development policy director such areas are of an obvious interest to me. But even without wearing any of these hats, an understanding of a place's political and economic climate when traveling provides a useful context to help to orientate you. A superficial understanding is often unavoidable in instances where you're really on the ground, but it's something that you will likely completely miss if you stay in a resort bubble, unless you actively seek it out. The owner of that major hotel chain and all the government officials who support and benefit from it are hard-selling happy places and don't really want you to know who's on strike, what the infant mortality rate is, how many folks are living below the poverty level, what the distribution of wealth is, what the relationship between the people and the police is, whether citizens support the state and feel adequately represented, whether the press is merely an organ of the state and private business interests, whether all children have access to a free and quality education. But these factors, coupled with an understanding of the interconnected politics of race, class and gender, plus elements related to culture (i.e. the learned behaviors of a society related to language, customs, symbols, etc.) are all crucial to the places you're going and an understanding can make the difference between you merely seeing a place and experiencing it in a socially responsible way.

If in the city of Oaxaca one's got to take into account that the people of Oaxaca have a history of actively protesting oppression. They are 'bout it for real! And the responses to the recent events with the students demonstrate that (For example see Mexican Teachers Block Oaxaca Airport to Protest Missing Students). These Zócalo encampments were first installed during the 2006 teachers protests. I'm doubting they've been up since then and were likely put up again in response to the missing and murdered students. Two of the wounded protesters and one of the disappeared were from Oaxaca.

The whole time we were there we kinda felt Oaxaqueños weren't really down for our little tourist interests. I'm not sure if it's related to this tension between the state and the people or if they are just less friendly there than the places we'd previously been, but all that Mexican warmth we'd felt before had clearly left the building. But hey, in the end I didn't take it personally. There is real shit going down.

So we walked around the Zócalo.

The Cathedral of the Virgin of the Assumption

Then we hit up a place on this NYTimes 36 Hours in Oaxaca article, the 20 de Noviembre market. The article was right. We walked in and were struck by smoke and meats.

There is a lot more pandering for customers at this market, which made it less enjoyable. We ended up at a place called Maria Theresa’s for tlayudas and enchiladas.

Maria Theresa was another grandmother- like figure so I tried to just keep a pleasant face as she went on about my “chino” hair (everyone keeps calling the curls chinos here), how much she liked it and how she had a young relative (niece or granddaughter) who had really straight hair and wanted chino hair and did everything she could to make it chino but it never worked. I’m sure she was sharing to be nice, but the constant convos about my hair are typically uncomfortable, awkward or just annoying.

*Don't be alarmed. That doesn't say "Mole Negro" as you might think. Mole (pronounced like Mo-lay) is one of Oaxaca's most famous sauces.

We left the market and walked to an artisan market called Mercado de Artesanias.

We then moved on to a spot called Café Nuevo for lemonade and coffee. It looked like someone decided to make use of a former horseway in a colonial home, but it was chill and had wi-fi so it worked. We then stopped by the space that Eduardo (Couchsurfer) was opening up. It's a café inside a cool pre-existing artist collective space called Espacio Zapatista. Revolutionary street art and such collectives apparently blew up following the 2006 and 2007 protests in Oaxaca.

We said we might all get up later but we never did and never stayed with him.

We stopped at this very funky little spot across the street and said what's up to Punk Frida.

We found the English books store called Amate Books, stopped at a place called Brújula for bagels and coffee, and then a tourist office to book a tour for the next day. We later ventured out for food and went to another spot on that NYTimes list called Biznaga (and every time I see it I just wanna say Bazinga!). But the wait just to sit at a table was 20 minutes and it didn’t seem worth it given the menu. We went to this spot called El Sagrario which was nothing to write home about. We gave up and took it down for the night. Womp womp.

I really don’t expect folks to shuck and jive for me as a tourist, but there was something unwelcoming about the city. Again, it could totally be a function of the political climate, which I get. But as a visitor there wasn’t a whole lot happening in the historic center (maybe on some underground shit that we never uncovered) and we wondered whether all the hype we’d heard about Oaxaca was restricted to the beachy coast and not the city.

Day 15- Wednesday, January 7, 2015: Day 2 in Oaxaca City, Oaxaca

We started the day at the Brújula on Alcalá and went to the tourist office on Murgia. We paid $200 pesos per person and the guy at the office told us that we would have to pay entrance fees for the various stops but that some could be discounted because of student rates. That wasn’t true because those rates only apply to Mexican nationals. Then of course there were different prices for things throughout. We rode for about 30 minutes.

Mural en route to Hierve el Agua. I love how richly brown the people are depicted here. #orgullo

The first stop was the 2000+ year old Tule Tree, which at 58 meters wide is apparently the world's widest tree according to Guinness. You pay $10 pesos to go into the gates which is supposed to be a contribution to help the community maintain the grounds.

We boarded the bus, went on the Panamerican highway and swooped around to the Sierra Madre Oriental to head to Hierve el Agua, which was 1.5 hrs from the Tule Tree. We had to pay $47 pesos and were told that 10 of these were for the new road or something like that.

Hierve el Agua is one of world's two places with petrified waterfalls made of carbonated salts. There are also two pools that we were told were warm but the water was too cold to swim in for us. Even though it wasn’t quite what we anticipated in terms of the beauty of the pools, it was still quite beautiful and worth the visit to me.

We then headed to an all-you-can-eat buffet in Mitla which cost something like $120 pesos.

From there we headed to the archaeological UNESCO World Heritage Site of Mitla. Unlike a lot of the other archaeological sites in the Americas this one was being used by local inhabitants upon its encounter by Europeans.

The site was used by the Zapotec people as a place for religious ceremonies and a sort of seat of government. But they also believed it to be a cave to another world. When the very Catholic Spaniards arrived and encountered the Zapotec at Mitla and were told this they thought it was a passage to hell and had it mostly destroyed, replacing one of its sites with a church dedicated to San Pablo to sanctify it. But you can still see some of the original elements in two of the best preserved and restored ruins.

Layer (1) is believed to represent a seashell trumpet used to blow consciousness and talk to God.
Layer (2) is believed to represent thunder and the Zapotec God of the rain.
Layer (3) represents the five paths of human existence and is said to also be seen in Peruvian ruins.

We then took a 20 minute ride to a family-owned tejidas (textiles) workshop. This was honestly a highlight. As I’ve stated before Mexico really has some gorgeous artisan crafts and I just had no idea the kind of work that goes into the production of one of these pieces.

When a vendor says that the textile is created using natural colors that means that there was an extensive process to collect each color. To make red one has to use the nest of some insect that costs $3500 pesos/kilo (USD$250). Some colors require days to extract from things like flowers, plants and other natural elements. The shit is impressive.

We then headed to the El Rey de Matalan mezcal factory and saw the again extensive process involved in the local production of the mezcal from the agave plant (it’s basically Tequila but like Champagne in France it technically cannot be called as such unless it comes from Tequila, Mexico).

And while I’m not a fan of mezcal/tequila, we tasted 8 yr. and 6 mos. old standard versions and I did appreciate the sweeter blends. We went tasting crazy up in there, drinking shots of mango, mocha, pistachio, cappuccino, maracuya, herbs, coffee, cocoa and pina colada mezcal.

This was the end of the tour. We got dropped back off at the travel agency on Murgia and checked out El Sol y La Luna on Calle Pino Suarez, which was supposed to be a highly recommended for dinner. Meh. The food wasn’t particularly good or fairly priced. We weren’t given a filling portion and a woman whom I believe was the owner had a pretty stank attitude. By the looks of the posters on the wall they apparently have various jazz artists play there. Maybe they would’ve made it a more worthwhile experience. But food in general wasn’t what we expected in Oaxaca. Part of the problem is again the hype. Oaxaca is supposed to be the cuisine capital of Mexico. And granted, as stated previously, I’m no foodie. But I still like to eat well and the food in Oaxaca City was far more expensive than other places we’d been (almost double in many instances) and the quality appeared no better. Ho hum.

Day 16- Thursday, January 8, 2015: Day 3 in Oaxaca City, Oaxaca

We started the day out at a local panaderia (cuz I’m a bread whore) and Café Brujula for coffee. Salma swears a woman who came in, went to the bathroom and never came out was recording artist Lila Downs. It probably was and she left out some secret tunnel in the back to avoid the mobbing. We then hit up the Instituto Oaxaqueño de las Artesanías

Followed by the Museo de Arte Contemporaneo de Oaxaca.

We later spent time at Los Cuiles Café which would’ve been cool had they not been playing some sort of French honkey-tonk.

Book tree I peeped inside artisan space near cafe

We later attempted to hit up a spot called Café Central but when we got there around 8:30pm it had yet to open. That would be our last attempt at kickin’ it at night in Oaxaca. There didn’t appear to be much of a scene and without Oaxaqueños to guide us the city fell pretty flat. Oaxaca City is good for about a day or two tops. But in spite of our dry sort of experiences in the city, I've still got much respect for the people of the city of Oaxaca's steadfastness in la lucha. Salute!

21 Days in Mexico- Days 9-13 (Chiapas)

January 15, 2015

Day 9- Thursday, January 1, 2015: New Year’s Day. Distrito Federal (Mexico City) ->San Cristobal, Chiapas

For some odd reason people (including those on the web) are not particularly clear how to get to the Benito Juarez Airport from within DF. Some websites mentioned it but in the end we didn’t receive accurate information. Sylvia was kind enough to drop us off at the Nativitas metro stop and we ended up taking three different trains to get to the Terminal Aerea metro stop, which was the actual airport. I believe we could’ve cut this down to two trains had we not thought that the airport was at the Pantitlan stop, which it is not.

We flew a budget airline called Volaris and if you’ve ever flown a budget airline you know they can get fairly janky. We got there and had to go to one place to print out our itinerary, then to another line that damned near didn’t move. As we waited we gazed at screens that had confusing signs about what could and couldn’t be brought aboard. Was luggage included in what we paid for? It was still unclear, even though it stated it was on the web version of our itinerary. We weren’t provided with a gate number and when they did and we got to the proper waiting area they switched the gate on us twice. Oh Volaris. Your cute purple and green color-coordination doesn’t mask your jankiness.

Workers appear to be having some anger about fraud and their pensions by the looks of these signs of protest at the security gate.

Volaris’ safety video was of nothing but children, which I thought was cute (save for the fact that they didn't manage to put in a single Afro child in a commercial designed for Latin America) but my co-passenger had me cracking up questioning whether Volaris was “a serious airline” based upon the presentation.

Good thing the flight was short because free beverages were not an option and The Kid was not paying $5 for a can of ginger ale. I asked the dude in the window seat to shoot these beauties.

The flight to Tuxtla Gutiérrez (the capital of the state of Chiapas) was fine but as we waited to leave the plane here goes this older woman behind me with her damn hands in my hair. Grrrrrr. And she’s just touching and patting it like I’m an animal at the zoo. When will people stop thinking that shit is okay??

We planned to take the bus from Tuxtla Gutiérrez to San Cristobal but the buses came every two hours and the one scheduled within the next 30 minutes was already full. But we came together with some other stranded folks headed to San Cristobal and all decided to take cabs colectivo-style. The bus was only going to cost around $42 pesos ($3) but the taxi cost $700 pesos (around $50), which we divided between four people (and the driver tried to say the 4th person was extra after we paid at the airport but no one was hearing that foolishness). We took a cab with a guy from Mexico and a Spanish girl, Ethel from Madrid, who did translation work. And guess what she translated very recently? An autobiography of Assata Shakur! That felt like a good sign of things to come. :-)

We got to San Cristobal and was immediately struck by how many tourists were everywhere. We were again not quite sure of our Couchsurfing plans. We were supposed to stay with a young woman who seemed uncertain about whether she could host us early on and when we arrived she wasn’t returning our messages. We needed some internet to check out other options. We went to this bar/restaurant called La Victoria Resto & Bar. What a damn mistake. The music was so loud we couldn’t even think. My mediocre spaghetti came and after 30+ minutes of waiting Salma’s molletes just never did. Boo them so hard. We eventually got in touch with the girl and headed up the hill to her house, passing a little place called Casa de Carmelita’s on the way. I checked in Carmelita’s while Salma went to find the exact location. We got to her place and there were dogs, a dude with a juggling pin and an offer to stay on a mat in one of the rooms, but no bed. Ummm. We went back to Carmelita’s on Calle Dr. Navarro.

She’s this little woman of about 60+ years who offered us the triple room for $400 pesos and said that we could change to a smaller one the next day for $350 but when Carmelita’s daughter asked her how much she offered us the room the daughter was peeved, saying it was too low for high season (which goes until around Jan. 5/6). We went upstairs so Señora Carmelita could show us the room and she whispered, “Don’t you worry. She forgets she’s the daughter and I’m the owner.” We love Carmelita. This place was heaven sent for us.

Nothing extravagant, but it was clean, spacious and full of light. After all the bobbing in weaving from house to house we deserved to feel like we were truly on vacation.

Casa de Carmelita
Calle Dr. Navarro No. 15.
Barrio del Cerrillo, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas
(01 967) 678-9975
(01 967) 678-2237
(044) 967 138-0986
carmelitahotelcasa@hotmail.com

Once we settled in we went to a Lebanese restaurant called Arez located on Real de Guadalupe for some really good and fresh falafel for $40 pesos ($2.85). With a place to stay and food in our bellies we were able to notice something very crucial about San Cristobal. It is full of fine ass travelers! Well hellooooo, Chiapas!

Day 10- Friday, January 2, 2015: Day 2 in Chiapas

Casa de Carmelita’s was sweet because it's situated in the center of San Cristobal, so we could easily walk pretty much everywhere we wanted to go in the area. And what was even sweeter was that there was a drop-off laundry place right around the corner for $30 pesos/kilo (Finding a lavanderia is key if you wanna pack reasonably). We then headed to a popular and cool spot called Tierra Adentro.

Critical things to understand about the state of Chiapas is that it's home to Mexico's largest Indigenous population, primarily comprised of various Mayan groups, and is the heart of the Zapatistas movement. So throughout San Cristobal there is graffiti and stores which support the movement and sell products produced by the Zapatistas.Tierra Adentro is one such business. Here's a good link for various Chiapas/Zapatista Resources to understand the struggle for indigenous rights there.

We spent the day walking around the center of San Cristobal.

And at night we went to a spot that was highly recommended by folks there and on the web, Revolucion. We finally got to drink some of our new favorite beer, Bohemia, and listen a mix of types of live music, including Mexican cumbia, which was refreshing.

Day 11- Saturday, January 3, 2015: Day 3 in Chiapas

We’d read a guide book that said that going to Chamula was this life-altering experience and so off we went. We met up with a friend of Salma’s from Italy, Sabrina, whom we had randomly run into at Tierra Adentro the day before and to ok a collectivo bus for $15 pesos for about 20 minutes to Chamula. We headed for San Juan de Chamula where we met Sabrina’s friends who had ridden into the town on some apparently very old horses.

We were told we were strictly prohibited from taking photos inside and if we were caught we were told they would make us immediately erase the photos. It was a place of worship unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was visibly syncretic, combing Catholic and Tzotzil Maya traditions. It smelled of the Evergreen needles that covered the floor. There were no pews and the walls were lined with cases holding religious figures like Jesus and various saints. Women and children lighting candles dominated the floor in rows. There were candles evvverywhere. There were men standing up as they chanted. Tourists passed by creating this somewhat odd blend of worshippers and watchers. After we’d walked through we were standing around and the women were showing one another photos and a man came over and told them to reveal the cameras contents. After he saw there were none of the church he told me I also had to put my notebook away. We left there and walked on a street with a lot of vendors. We’d been surprised in DF, Puebla and Teopotzlan at how easy vendors were with us, no harassment, super nice. In Chiapas it was different. Chiapas is the economically poorest state in Mexico and it’s possible that this is a reason that people go harder when trying to convince you to buy things. We were often approached by Indigenous children, sometimes as small as three years old, selling trinkets, gum, etc. It is not for the faint of heart.

We took the colectivo back and all went a restaurant which would become our favorite in San Cristobal, Cocoliche. Their motto is something about how they have a little bit of food from every town and country and this concept worked really well because we could keep returning and feel like we were having another culinary experience. The women from Italy suggested I order arranchera beef ($120 pesos), which is supposed to be specific to Mexico and really good. And oh it was.

I went to a cool little coffee shop, Frontera’s, by Carmelita’s to write for a bit. Salma met me and we started to look up bus tickets, again with Ado (who clearly has the bus industry on lock), from San Cristobal, Chiapas to Oaxaca City, Oaxaca. The Italian women were taking the night bus that night and said tickets sold very quickly. We were planning on leaving the following day but the transpo gods had a different idea. The internet was showing that all flights for the following day between the two cities were sold out. Blargh. We went to the ticket office in a coffee shop on Real de Guadalupe and was told the same thing. Clearly we were going to be spending an extra day in Chiapas. But since we hadn’t planned on traveling via the evening we were really only losing a night in Oaxaca. And San Cristobal was living up to the hype. We had a tasty variety of cuisine at reasonable prices. We were a fan of Casa de Carmelita and walking everywhere as opposed to having to taking public transpo or taxis. And again, there was eye candy all over the place, even though many of the hot boys appeared booed up (#ChiapasIsForLovers). We were finding good spots to listen to live music. So we didn’t trip and just bought our tickets for the following day, leaving out at 8pm and arriving in Oaxaca around 7am. We still had to figure out our Oaxaca and Guadalajara Couchsurfing plans. We potentially had a guy who agreed to host us in Oaxaca but he seemed to be flaking on us. We sent him messages to confirm and sought out potential folks for Guadalajara. We avoided dudes who looked like they thought Couchsurfing was OkCupid, folks who didn’t have a private room, and chose ones that seemed to potentially be located in the center of town.

We headed to a highly recommended food joint, The Funky Burrito. I had a yummy fish burrito (yes, fish burrito). The owner offered us a shot of the house “Funky Burrito Mezcal” and well, that shit was disgusting but it takes a lot for Mezcal to be good. The Canadian girl who worked there offered us a taste of maracuya (passion fruit) Mezcal and that wasn’t half bad.

We headed to this spot called Dada’s for yet another shot of hardcore Mezcal and some super cool live music by this French band, Sondido, who apparently met 5 years earlier at a posada in Mexico and have been jamming there ever since. We ended up making our way into some front row seats (the place was packed) and really dug having yet another dose of some really different live music. Here are some snippets for your listening and viewing pleasure.

Day 12- Sunday, January 4, 2015: Day 4 in Chiapas

We started the day again at Tierra Adentro then went a travel agency (called something like Viajes Pedrero) on a corner in the Zocalo (main plaza) to pay for our day trip to El Cañon de Sumidero. We stopped at the tourist kiosk that was finally open in the Zocalo to ask about the English books store but they were of no use.

Behind the Zocalo there was a long line of children with parents waiting to receive toys in a toy give-away. And as I mentioned before it's common to see small children and the elderly asking for money and attempting to sell their goods at all times of the day and night. This line was full of what appeared to be impoverished families, similar to the people that we see selling things. And for some reason there was a DJ playing techno music that was cursing up a storm in English and talking about cocaine. There was something too disheartening about the entire scene so I couldn’t stay around long.

We eventually ended up at the Mercado Santo Domingo which sits in front of the Santo Domingo Church.

That night we were back at Cocoliche and with more live music, this time with a group called Cello Duo.

Day 13- Monday, January 5, 2015: Day 5 in San Cristobal, Chiapas-> Oaxaca City, Oaxaca

We spent $300 pesos ($21) for a day tour and met the bus at the office at 9am to begin. We first went to the El Cañon de Sumidero, which many people suggested we hit up if going to Chiapas. And they were on point with their suggestion. The fee we paid covered entry and the boat ride (technically what we paid well exceeded the costs but that's obvious commission, which for the sake of ease was well worth it). We strapped on some fluorescent vests and hopped in the speed boat with our fellow tourists. It was really quite beautiful.

And ya gotta love being able to see live crocodiles hanging out minding their own business.

After Sumidero the bus went to Chiapa de Corzo. Now technically this is supposed to be a very interesting place with this unique Fiesta Grande de Enero (Great January Festival) that’s been been declared an intangible heritage of humanity by UNESCO. Unfortunately the friggin' thing doesn’t start until January 8th so we spent an hour just wandering around a place with a few vendors that looked like it was on the verge of putting something on but it was sort of still sleeping. And there was nothing really to eat there. We were ready to roll after a good 5 minutes and were happy when we finally headed back to San Cristobal.

We hung out at Tierra Adentro, picking up our last Zapatista gifts in the shop inside and then went back to Casa de Carmelita to say our final goodbyes. I don’t know why but I really felt kind of sad bidding her farewell. We were so lucky to have stumbled upon her place and I HIGHLY recommend it for anyone visiting San Cristobal. It’s cute, clean, reasonably priced, conveniently located and Carmelita is just the best (don't be fooled by this photo, she smiles a lot).

We had one last meal at Cocoliche for the road and walked down to the ADO/OCC bus station (about 15 min.) for our 8pm bus to Oaxaca City, Oaxaca. It’s weird to go to bus stations where there is basically only one company, but again ADO seems to have a monopoly on the bus biz and somehow OCC is closely associated with them, if not just another arm of the same corporation. But they try to run things like an airport which on some level I appreciate (especially after bus fiascos in Bolivia and Peru). We had to check luggage and there was a waiting area just for passengers. When we boarded we were impressed with the bus, even though it wasn’t an actual sleeper bus like I'd hoped it would be (These legs ain't bus-friendly).

Things were going smoothly at first then shit got extra real. Everyone started to fall asleep and around 1am the bus go stopped for the first time by the police. We were in the second to last row and I was sitting in the aisle. The officer passes everyone on the bus and gets to me and asks where I’m from and for my passport. Um, okay. But check how this happened TWO MORE TIMES, each time, the officers passing everyone and stopping at me to ask for my passport and then my friend’s.

The bus was pulled over an additional two times without anyone being asked. Basically if anyone got questioned it started with me. By the third time I had to wake my girl up just so she could witness the utter ridiculousness.

Then on top of that our bus driver was careening left and ride down the highway and it kept me up on and off the entire 11 hour bus ride. Between what I felt was the racial profiling by the PoPo and Señor Swerve 2015, I was not a happy viajera.

21 Days in Mexico- Days 7 & 8 (DF)

January 9, 2015

Day 7- December 30, 2014:

Distrito Federal (Mexico City), Teotihuacán Pyramids, Lucha Libre wrestling match

We started the day by taking the trolley to the same northern bus terminal where we’d left for Puebla. The ticket to Teotihuacan for costs about $88 pesos (about $6) round trip and we got there at 1pm after an hour bus ride. The entrance fee is $59 pesos ($4). We got dropped off by the first gate which is all the way down the Avenue of the Dead.

We made our hike towards the first pyramid, The Pyramid of the Sun. And trust, this place is bright. Bring your shades. Folks were coming out of their shirts by the middle tier of the pyramid. The walk up wasn’t so bad at first ‘til the traffic jam that just had you standing almost stationary.

Teotihuacán Pyramid of the Sun

But the most uncomfortable moment for me was when this teenage girl asked to take a picture of me. At first I thought she wanted me to take a pic of her and her friends but then she corrected me and said she wanted one with me. So much for not feeling like "other."

It took at least an hour to get all the way up because of how packed it was. Felt good to make it to the top though. "We did it, Brooklyn! Brooklyn, we did it!" The Pyramid of the Moon, however, was getting no love from us that day.

We had to walk all the way back to Puerta 1 to catch the bus back. We eventually got back to the Northern Terminal and took the metro to the colonia of Roma to meet Ixtzel. DF has this reputation for being artsy, hip and funky but we’d wondered whether there was some sort of center for this life in the city. Some folks said Roma was it. We met Ixtzel and ate at a “local” spot that had good food but charged us for the soup that we thought came with the meal. We wandered around Roma and the adjoining neighborhood Condessa, hitting up Parque España and Mexico.

The we all met Alejandro at Arena Mexico for the maiiiiiiiiin event!!

heThat’s right. Ancient ruins in the morn, front row seats at a Lucha Libre Mexican wrestlingmatch at night, baby! I can’t even tell you which I liked better because they were both so awesome and rich in culture. At Teotihuacan I learned it was one of the largest ancient cities in the Americas and about the not-so-warm-and-fuzzy human sacrifices that took place there. But at the wrestling match I drank beer, learned Mexican curses, got to yell at hot wrestlers and boo people. How can a girl choose? And the beauty of it all is I don't have to! The audience though...everything.

We were gonna hang with folks after the matches but we were beat. We got back to Sylvia’s but instead of resting were up until 2am talking about love, life and relationships. I was reminded that some fights are in the ring, others for the ring and some to free yourself of the ring.

Day 8- December 31, 2014: New Year’s Eve in Distrito Federal (Mexico City)

We made our way back to Frida Kahlo’s house/museum via trolley on Ave. Lazaro (aka Eje Central). The line went down the block, but moved quickly, and was full of people who looked like they were down with the cult of Frida. I was able to get in as a student and only paid $2.72 (The regular entry fee would’ve been around $6).

It was definitely worth the visit. To see the home she shared with artist Diego Rivera, where she created and her dope work made me on some level for the first time get the obsession people have with her.

We hopped on the metro in Coyoacán and got off at the Balderas stop to go to La Ciudadela Market. It's pretty sizeable and is the one we're going to return to before leaving Mexico should we not find what we want in other cities. Prices were reasonable and they really had a variety of crafts and products from around Mexico.

These were some beautiful papier-mâché Dia de los Muertos skulls made by Joel Garcia Matias (joelgm02@gmail.com, Facebook- elcolordemexico1 ).

We then got back on the metro to the Hidalgo stop with the intention of seeing the Diego Rivera Mural Museum. Unfortunately, they closed at 2pm because of New Year's Eve. We walked back around Madera and eventually hopped on the trolley to get some food and go back to Sylvia's. But our plans were thwarted again when everything was closing.We were going to resort to eating at the OXXO (the ubiquitous chain that's very similar to 7-11). We still had no real plans for the evening. We went back to Sylvia's and here's another moment that I'll hold back for my future LIBRO. In the end, while we didn't spend our New Year's Eve quite like we expected we drank Tequila, ate grapes, swept the front of a house, ran a suitcase down the street, and rubbed myself with Cuban money.

21 Days in Mexico- Days 5 & 6 (Puebla & DF)

January 8, 2015

Day 5- December 28, 2014: Puebla->Distrito Federal (Mexico City) sightseeing

We rolled out of Puebla after stopping at a well known barbacoa place for a late breakfast. I was already starting to be over things with beans and cheese and since I got chalupas without the salsa (not a fan of hardcore hot), them being dry just meant that I was extra over beans and cheese. Thanks to Ixtzel driving to Puebla with Alejandro, we had a ride back to DF and it really took no time, about 1.5 hours. We dropped off Ale and stopped at Ixtzel ’s old home and current apartment of her brother. And there’s another future LIBRO story (See end of Day 4 for explanation) tucked into this moment. We left via standard street bus and changed to the Metro subway. We got off downtown and ate at an outdoor market by the Hidalgo Metro station.

We then walked through Alameda Park and came to Benito Juarez Plaza where the following was set up to both denounce the disappearance and potential killing of the missing 43 students from Raul Isidro Burgos Rural Teacher's College of Ayotzinapa from Iguala, Guerrero, Mexico and pray for their safe return.

This emotional moment led to the next as we then crossed the street to the Museum of Memory and Tolerance (Museo Memoria y Tolerancia). Since it’s Sunday all the public museums have free entry and because we just keep winning in Mexico we were able to see this really great exhibit called, “The Legacy of Mandela: 20 Years of Liberty in South Africa” for free! It was well-done, powerful and of course had me low-key wiping the tears from my eyes.

"When we decided to take up arms it was because the only remaining option was to surrender and submit to slavery."- Nelson Mandela.

We then mosied our way down the Avenida Juarez to Palacio de Bellas Artes (on the corner of Eje Central) for a free look at another exhibit that featured the work of someone whose name I can't remember as well as pieces from Frida Khalo and Diego Rivera. That museum is gorgeous. It’s art deco and made me kind of feel like I was in the Untouchables.

We then attempted to head down Madera street and for the first time I felt like I was in a city with 22 million people.

We eventually got to the Zócalo (different one from Puebla) as the sunset and it looked like Christmas on crack, in a good way. There was another ice skating rink, like the one in Puebla, with lines that wrapped around at least four times. Folks in places without ice or snow seem to be serious about their access to ice skating.

The place was teeming with people and lights. I’m used to being around a lot of folks living in NYC but we typically avoid such scenes, yet I was right up in the mix here. Definitely a sight to see.

We eventually got outta there and took a good little walk back down Madera and all the way to The Monument to the Revolution (Monumento a la Revolución).

We were exhausted and got onto yet another mode of transportation in the city, the MetroBus. The thing you need to know about the Metrobus is that you can’t get on without a card and this costs about 30 pesos (around $2) so if you aren’t going to use it much you don’t want to buy it (I know I hate when I have to buy a $1 Metro card in NYC). But we asked someone entering if we could pay him as he added to his card and we were in. We then headed back to Ixtzel’s car and from there to Sanborn’s to meet her sweet parents for dinner. The only thing was we were completely exhausted, as one could imagine from such a jam packed day. We’re going hard and every night we look like we’ve got nothing left. So we weren’t the most upbeat. But the worst part was that we didn’t offer to pay for the check when we had the opportunity. Of course they said, “no, no, you two are traveling,” but they really deserved it and we kicked ourselves later. But in our defense our brains were on the fritz. We were taking in so much, bobbing and weaving, learning, processing. We owe them.

Day 6- December 29, 2014: Distrito Federal (Mexico City) mall, touring and independent cinema

We packed up all our things at Ixtzel’s house in the Tlalpan section of DF because we were supposed to go stay at another woman’s house through Couchsurfing that we’d arranged before. But when we got downstairs to leave Ixtzel’s parents insisted that we stay and chat with them as they gave us breakfast. How could we say no? We spoke about life and family, social security, education systems, jobs, our respective countries, etc. Then they offered to give us a ride to the mall and then to the dentist since Salma had to go and Ixtzel’s brother had a friend who was a dentist. Mind you, we didn't know these folks at all a couple days earlier and yet here they were acting like our Mexican surrogate parents. It just warms your heart.

Mall life in other countries can be interesting if you’ve got the extra time to spare for something chill. You can see what certain classes of folks think is “in”. But this was by far my favorite part of the mall visit.

Something that has been striking about this trip thus far is a bit of a paradox. We’ve by and large seen very few foreign tourists. Now granted, in a city so large and so populated maybe they just are dispersed throughout the city and we are missing them. But even in the tourist hot-spots we’ve seen very few of them. And yet, here’s the interesting thing, we don’t get stared at. We look visibly different from most other people so it’s not like folks don’t stare because we just blend so well and not because it appears they are accustomed to seeing people who like us on the regular, and yet, especially when compared to other countries, there is very little staring. One could say that it's a culture that finds staring rude, but I'm not getting that vibe either. We feel neither invisible nor like we’re on stage. It really allows for a level of calm and normalcy in a foreign space.

After the mall we got dropped at the dentist closer to the center of town then bid Ixtzel’s parents farewell. I waited and wrote up the first two days of this blog then. We walked a bit of a ways with our things to the metro that was supposed to be closest to our next host’s home. So here’s where I tell you another tip. Get yourselves a DF map. We were totally without one. When Salma got to the airport first, mind you the international airport for a mega city, the tourist office was closed. It was also closed when we were in the Zocalo. So when we got out the metro we really didn’t know where to go. And guess what? Neither did the taxi drivers. I hate paying to be lost. We eventually got to Sylvia’s house and it was just as we pictured a cool ass, artsy woman from DF would live. The house was just full of character and light. We had a huge room and a mattress on the floor and were all good. We rapped for a bit with Sylvia. She gave us the house keys and a copy of the city map (finally!) and we headed to yet another mode of DF transportion, the trolley, down Eje Central (Ave. Lazaro). We got to Frida Kahlo’s house in the Coyoacán neighborhood but alas, museums are closed on Mondays! Boo. We walked around the neighborhood which is super cute. They really do a lot with public space in DF. They are full of benches and trees, places that look like they are actually intended to be utilized by the public (for the opposite of this see Parque Centenario in Cartagena, Colombia). We then found our way to way to the Cineteca Nacional on foot so we could check out what independent films they were showing. My mouth straight dropped upon entry. No really. THIS was the independent movie theatre????

I felt like I walked into a NASA observatory. We were just in time to catch a Turkish-German movie with Spanish subtitles called Winter Sleep (Sueño de invierno/Kis Uykusu). The cashier had Colombian parents and when I said I went to Columbia so we could get the student rate he got excited (confusing the two), we responded and before we knew it we both paid about $1.75 to watch a new independent movie in one of the flyest theatres I’d ever been in. DF, I see you tryna win me over, and it’s workin’.

21 Days in Mexico- Day 4 (Puebla)

January 7, 2015

Day 4- December 27, 2014: Puebla, Puebla, Mexico

On Saturday morning our plans changed yet again as we realized that the buses to Veracruz with Ado were pricier than we anticipated and the schedule meant that we wouldn't be able to go just for the day and get back to DF, so we decided to spend another day and night in Puebla and save Veracruz for a future round in Mexico. Whomp whomp. The Couchsurfers that Omar originally had lined up were returning that night so we were gonna have to hit the air mattress if we stayed but that wasn't an issue for us.

We taxied it back to the historic center and started out at El Mercado de Sabores, which really wasn't what we expected. It was more of a local market than somewhere we could eat and shop. But once we left there were ended up at a cute little restaurant where we had enchiladas. We worked our way through the streets and went to the Templo de Santo Domingo. I'm not gonna front, this church was a beauty. Livin' life like it's golden gorgeous. And no, you're not supposed to take pics but there were sooo many people snapping shots that I just had to.

We went in search of the Palafoxian Library and came to a corner with a dude that immediately screamed sketchy, which was actually somewhat of a rarity in our experience there. "Don't make eye contact!" has been a running joke between us about potentially mentally unstable folks in our presence and it was quickly resurrected. We walked quickly towards a police officer as Scary Smiles followed us. He passed us by as we asked the female officer about the location of the library. And not only was she super nice and told us that we were actually standing in front of it but it's housed within the Casa de Cultura de Puebla, but she whipped out one of the Puebla center maps and offered it to us. Well color me confused yet again. Did this officer of the law just prove kind and helpful? Wow. Go Puebla. We entered the Casa de Cultura de Puebla.

The Palafoxiana Library is apparently the oldest public library in the Americas. Who knew? There was an entrance fee which weren't sure there was a point to paying so we admired from a distance and kept it moving.

An interesting thing about being in Mexico coming from The States is that there is so much food that seems vaguely familiar because we eat versions of them, but oftentimes they really don't compare. Perfect example, churros. Oh you think you've had churros, but nah, son. Not like this. As we walked we saw some less than appetizing ones and thought, meh let's wait. And what did we come across on the corner of the same street with Casa de la Cultura, but an old school churreria with some fresh out the hot oil churros for us to enjoy. Puebla, I heart you.

Shortly after our churro romance we met up with Ixtzel and her friend Alejandro and went back to the El Parián market and then to a spot for more food. The place was colorful and dotted with different Talavera Poblana pottery. But what I remember the most was having to use the restroom after some adorable viejitas. I don't know when in my life I've been nasally assaulted by something like that. Felt like I stepped into the Devil's commode. I took one large breath then tried taking baby breaths like Phil Cantone in the Harlem Nights safe but I believe I came close to death. I tried to keep it cool on my way out so as to not embarrass the little old ladies but apparently I looked like I'd seen a ghost. My girl tried to follow but couldn't even make it through the door. We went to the biggest chain of department stores, Sanborn's, so everyone else could use the restroom since my reconnaissance mission had proved the area unsafe for the rest of the team. While I waited I came across this. Werrrrrk Naomi C.

Ah, but wait. If you read the subscript it says, "A day with LA TOP most savage." Given such a long history of labeling people of African, Indigenous and other non-European descent as savage, animal and generally less-than-human, it's just never cool to call someone of these backgrounds as such. But let's hope there is something lost in translation here. :-/

So we all then headed to a cool little space with vendors called Callejon de los Sapos. Unfortunately, but the time we got there everyone was packing up their wares. I'm on a quest for a fly Dia de los Muertos skull and there were some quite nice ones on the Callejon that were unique because they were unglazed but since I wasn't sure if I could find even better ones elsewhere I passed up on them. We stopped at a spot and had a beer. Alejandro suggested Bohemia as one of the best but since there were none available we drank Indios (yeh, that name is cringe-worthy to me), which are supposed to be some of the worst but a very local beer. It was then time for the houseparty at Omar’s that started at1pm (i.e. 4pm). We made a liquor run at Walmart. Trust that this was the first time I’d shopped at Walmart since I really understood how shamelessly disgusting they are to their workers and I only went because I was with the group. Turns out Sam Walton & Co. are screwing over workers around the world! Anyway, we got a bottle of Jose Cuervo Tradicional and headed to O’s. We could see as we rolled up that there was a gang of folks outside of his home. So we immediately broke out our bottle and got festive. We made "Palomitas" which require a 10 second pour of Tequila, fizzy lemon water/soda, lime, and a pinch of salt. We carried on with our own little circle and I found out the joke about the three things Mexicanos say that you can never trust:

Mañana te pago (tomorrow, I’m going to pay you).
Una más y nos vamos (one more drink, and we’re leaving).
No más la pontita (just the tip, no more).

Then the munchies kicked in and we made a food run for some schwarma type sandwiches called "gringas" (Because they were wrapped in light-colored bread. boo.). But I swear that was the best meat I’d ever tasted. Pause. Then we went back to the house and mixed it up with other folks. Before I knew it the hours went on and I was being swung around the room dancing the Quebradita (a lot less gracefully than this). This story gets more interesting but I’m still deciding how to buckle down and finish the travel memoir I started writing while I was living Chile in 2013. And since it’s still on the table, there are some juicier, messier, dirtier, and/or just more personal parts of stories that I’m gonna save for the book. And when one such episode or detail comes up I’m gonna drop in a “LIBRO!” so you know. Sooo... LIBRO!

21 Days in Mexico: Day 3 (Puebla)

January 4, 2015

Day 3- December 26, 2014: Puebla, Puebla, Mexico

Again we awoke unclear about our plans for the day. We knew we wanted to hit up Puebla, because Salma had a friend there and it was supposed to be a very cute city, and Veracruz because it's considered by many to be the center of Afro-Mexican history and culture. I'd seen some gorgeous photos by Tony Gleaton of Veracruz years ago so for some time it's been on my list of places in the African Diaspora to hit up. We’d decided to head to Veracruz first (about a 6 hr. bus ride from Distrito Federal), then go to Puebla on the way back, which was supposed to be about 3 hours away. Ixtzel gave us a ride to the northern bus terminal but when we arrived at around 7:50a (assuming this would not be cutting it super close) we discovered that there was only one bus company, Ado, with trips to Veracruz leaving from that terminal. The 8am bus was full and the next one wasn’t until around 1pm. Welp, change of plans. “Two tickets to Puebla, gracias.” The tix cost $184 Mexican pesos (about $13 each).

The ride was smooth but we got to Puebla fairly clueless about how to get to our destination, the center of town. We asked a gentleman at the information booth about where to go and he just supported a general sense that we’d had since we hit the airport in DF: Mexicans seem extreeeemely nice. Like in this moment we were sort of shocked. The man provided everything we needed with courtesy and respect. No dirty ogling, half-assed answers, stanky attitude. It was damn refreshing. We took a local bus outside of the bus station to the corner of Avenida de Palafox y Mendoza and Boulevard Heroes del 5 de Mayo of the Historic Center (Centro Historico) and with the use of the trusty map we picked up from the pleasant man in the bus station, made our way to the central plaza, known as Zocalo. The Puebla tourist information center was right there and they have computers with free internet and folks to help you find things. We teeechnically had no place to stay. Salma had organized something at the last minute with someone on Couchsurfing but it was a bit unclear whether he had space for us. She checked her email to see whether he was free while I looked up options on Hostelworld.com just in case. In the info center we found out that he, Omar, was in between obligations and could meet us later at his place, which a 10 min ride outside of the center. We decided to eat some Mexican chalupas and meander a bit through the town.

We explored the El Parián market, one of the most famous in Puebla. A must have item from Puebla is a piece of Talavera Poblana pottery. It's tough to carry around ceramics when traveling, as such items can add serious weight to your luggage, but these are true works of art and are supposed to be an essential reflection of Poblano culture.

Black Dolls in the El Parián Market — Black Dolls in the El Parián Market

While checking out the market I came across these. What's with folks representing Black girls in red and white polka dots? I've seen this throughout Latin America. And it's particularly curious in Puebla because almost no one in this area seems to phenotypically look like this. So what is this based upon and why is it for sale?

After lugging our things around the center of town we had to take a pause for the cause.

It was then time to take a taxi to the home where we planned to couchsurf for the night. During the ride I thought that there was something about the neighborhood that reminded me of an upscale portion of Quito, Ecuador. Then suddenly shit got interesting. It felt a little like one of those movies where you cross over to "the wrong side of the tracks." Now of course this is a complete exaggeration but at the time we were nervous about staying at a dude's house that we didn't know at all. He had lots of Couchsurfing references but ya just never know. We pulled up and Omar was outside with another guy (who turned out to be one of his roommates). Even the cabbie (in concerned Mexicano fashion) asked us whether we know these guys. Omar welcomed us with his roommate and extremely loving and hyper pooch. But still, we were plotting on how to get out of it should we walk in and feel unsafe. The house was empty which only made us more nervous. So is this where they invite people over to murder them? Salma had never had a truly bad experience couchsurfing and so we were like, "great, I'm the jinx." But as we started rapping with Omar we quickly felt comfortable. He was very open and welcoming. We rested and that night headed out with Omar and his two roommates to a super cute bar in a nearby city called Cholula. The music was banging but it was a bit chilly because we were basically outside. And by the time the night went out on we were all besties, drinking some hardcore Mezcal, looking like this. The wonder of travel.

21 Days in Mexico- Days 1 & 2 (DF & Tepoztlán)

January 1, 2015

Day 1- December 24, 2014: First night in Distrito Federal aka Mexico City

I started my journey out of Newark and unfortunately had to fly past Mexico to El Salvador.So what really should’ve been about a 4 hour trip was a good 9 hours in total. Boo. I touched down in DF (pronounced by everyone in Spanish almost like day-ef-ay) around 11pm and my homegirl Salma, who had flown in from Cartagena and had been waiting for a while, met me at the gate. We were last with one another in Cartagena in May, where we’d met 2.5 years ago. With the reunification, it was time for the games to begin.

Almost everyone I spoke to who knows anything about DF has said, “watch out for the taxis!” This link from TripAdvisor about getting from the Benito Juarez Airport, while pretty helpful, also had me picturing some sort of chaotic scene where hordes of sketchy dudes try to lure you into their cabs and you are then quickly whisked away to your destination while praying in the back seat that you took a legal taxi. But when we got outside to where the cabs were it was clear that the reality, in terms of danger and time, was nothing of the sort. We’d paid inside for Excelencia car service because it was the cheapest (around USD $19), but the lines for the couple companies that were out there were off the chain. Super long and damned near stationary. One cab came every 20-30 min. They said that because it was Christmas Eve (which soon turned to Christmas Day during our wait) there were fewer drivers. We waited a good 2 hrs. (no exaggeration) and it was cold as hell out there. But eventually we hopped in a cab as we cheered and said it was a Christmas miracle.

To understand DF one of the things you have to keep in mind is that it is a maaassive city. We are talking 22 million people in the city limits and another 20 million in the metropolitan area. It’s not just intensely populated, it’s also geographically huge, sprawling. Someone told us that, especially in heavy traffic which is the norm, it could take 3hrs to get from the north of DF to the extreme southeast.

We were heading to the far north to a colonia (neighborhood) called Tlalpan (trust that we are working hard to pronounce all the Aztec/Nahuatl words) to stay with a girl through CouchSurfing. This was my very first experience participating in Couchsurfing. Salma is a huge fan as it's an economic way to see a country and share in the lives of people who are from there. For the uninitiated, it’s a system where people go online here and ask to stay at people’s homes for free. When I’d first learned about it a few years ago I was fascinated. What are people getting in return? Why would you invite a complete stranger to come kick it at your house for nothing? How do you feel safe as a surfer or a host? The system of references and comments they’ve set up seems to allay people’s fears fairly effectively. And most people apparently really seem to do it for the cultural exchange. It differs depending on where you are I believe. For example, I remember hearing a guy from some city in Spain talk about it and he said that he was going to stop hosting people because he was just encountering folks who wanted a cheap place to stay and weren’t really about the sharing. Some hosts seem really hands off. Let’s chat, here are my keys, see ya later. Others want you to be attached to their hips. We thought that the girl with whom we were staying, Ixtzel lived alone but when we arrived at around 2am the house was bustling with family celebrating Christmas Eve. It turned out that she lives with her mother, father and two brothers. And it was quickly apparent that we were in the company of some truly sweet and loving people. Salma and I were both exhausted but we kicked with everyone for a while and then tried to plot on the adventure that lay ahead.

Day 2- December 25, 2014: Tepoztlán, Morelos, Mexico

We ended up waking up Christmas morning still unsure of what we were gonna do. We had some contacts through Couchsurfing and other sources and our plans changed a good four times with every new opportunity and piece of information, which can be unsettling, but is also the beauty of the kind of travel where a flexible schedule means you are open to all possibilities and you can really get your exploration on. Eventually

Ixtzel's older brother, Alberto where we could head to Tepoztlán to visit Salma’s old housemate, whom I’d also met in Cartagena, who was now living at a yoga sanctuary in Tepoztlán. We got to the sanctuary after about 3 hrs of traveling via car and taxi and to our chagrin homegirl was nowhere to be found. But hey, we decided to just leave her a note and explore Tepoztlán. It’s a super cute puebla (town) that reminded me of Cusco, Peru a bit. The architecture, hills, mountains in the background.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of a Tepoztlán race fail in a tiny store we stopped in to use the restroom.

Umm, for starters did someone really make "El Negrito" a vocabulary word for the kids? Then did this person go on to depict him like the Planter's Peanuts dude minus the monacle? And wait, is "El valiente" (The brave) depicted by a white dude, knife in hand, with his pecks showing? Is that what's going on here? Oh okay, shake it off. Now back to the rest of the day.

We toured the market, which is held in Tepoztlán regularly but was particularly large because of the holiday so that streets were closed off and filled with people and vendors.

There are some places in Latin America where I just love the handcrafts and the prices make you wanna come back with a suitcase full of goodies. Other places, meh, not so much. Bolivia has beautiful handcrafted leather bags and carefully stitched blankets that would cost you almost nothing if you are coming from the US or Europe. Peru has gorgeous silver and alpaca sweaters, hats, etc. Argentina is killing the leather game. Ecuador also has some really nice alpaca items. So far I’m really digging Mexican painting, woodwork and ceramics. Every region specializes in something gorgeous so I found this site helpful to know where to get what in Mexico Arts and Crafts in Mexico | VisitMexico

Things were hella reasonable in Tepoztlán and of a solid quality. However, when we asked the taxi driver as we left about prices there compared to elsewhere he told us Tepoztlán’s more expensive than other places in what is basically the DF metro area. He told us that tourism is forcing the prices of everything up and it was obvious when I saw this mural, a familiar call to people to protect their town, its culture, its people. "Tepoztlán- No se vende" (Tepoztlán is not for sale).

We ate enchiladas at a pretty traditional place (Traveller’s note: I realize that foodie culture is all the rave, especially in the States. So I’m sorry to disappoint you that this adventure will not be focused on what I consumed. It’s just so not my thing. But moving forward I will attempt to cite the various things you can eat which represent the culture.). We later hit up a cute café called Cacao as we waited to head back to meet Ixtzel’s brother. And of course, just as we are heading to find a cab old housemate calls. Such is life. We rapped with her for a bit and took a cab back to Cuernavaca and like some Jackie-come-latelys met up with Alberto late and headed back to DF.