Finally, some thoughts on what we found

1. Why don’t the world famous archeological sites we have visited, have any sort of basic handout to give visitors with their ticket purchase? Not one Mayan site offered a map to show us where to go or what we were looking at, or any sort of information on the buildings, when they were built or what they were used for. We had to rely on a few very poor signs which often told us very little. Without a guide book our only resource was the internet when we got back to the hotel

2. Entrance fees are incredibly reasonable, and while we appreciate that, they could easily make more money for restoration work by charging more.

3. We have been surprised to see that the Mayan Indians look very different from the native Indians we see on the west coast of Mexico. They seem stockier, with harder features

4. The Mayan language is still spoken by over 2,000,000 people

5. The Mayans still build today the same style of house that they built a thousand years ago. At least the poor ones do. It is a small race track shaped building with two straight sides and rounded ends. It is only one room with openings opposite each other on the straight walls for ventilation. One end is the kitchen and living quarters, the other is the bedroom. There is often no plumbing. They are about 15ft long and 6ft wide, built of mud or bamboo with a straw roof.

6. We have not always felt as welcomed by local Mexican people here as we do in Puerto Vallarta

7. A knowledge of Spanish is not needed in Puerto Vallarta while it is a necessity here. Very few people speak English

8. There are many more European tourists on the East Coast than on the west as it is so much easier to get to

9. Hot water always seems to take several minutes to arrive at the bathroom in every place we have stayed

10. The water is not drinkable anywhere here, while it is in Puerto Vallarta

11. Most places we have been to, have not allowed anything but human waste to be flushed down the toilet. All “used” paper products have to be put into a bin, often without a lid, and cleared away daily. I prefer the more practical method employed elsewhere!

The craft villages outside Oaxaca

This is the last day of our trip, and no trip to Oaxaca would be complete without seeing some of the outlying villages which have become famous for their arts and crafts. Within a 50-kilometer radius of Oaxaca City there are dozens of small towns, many of which specialize in a particular art tradition. Often combining ancient and modern techniques, most of the region’s voluminous output comes from families that have spent generations becoming known for a particular item. We visit three of these villages, one famous for its black pottery, another for its art pottery and a third for its amazingly painted wood craft.


The layout of each village is similar, in that we walk through the village and are invited into different houses where the family living there has developed an expertise in a certain craft. We might have expected each house to specialize in a totally different craft, but here every family in one village makes the same items, but just interprets them differently. As we wander through their homes we can see the family members at work as well as browse through everything they have for sale. Some have just a few shelves with items on them while the more successful have huge rooms full of their art. We are delighted to discover that there is very little pressure to buy, and the families seem quite happy to share their skills with us. As we get to know the village we soon learn that the quality from family to family varies significantly, and while all are good, there are some that have rightfully earned a national reputation.

The economic advantages of this system of involving a whole village in the production of a craft soon becomes apparent. The differences between the small towns that have such a craft, and the towns that don’t are evident everywhere we look. The working villages have much building going on, and the standard of the homes is greatly improved
We are flying back to Puerto Vallarta tomorrow and it is not possible to buy what we want and get it home. We decide to wait until we return another time and are better prepared to make our own economic impact on the small villages. But it has been a fascinating way to spend our last day in Oaxaca

Valentines Night

Oaxaca has been preparing for valentines day ever since we arrived. We are becoming increasingly aware that it is going to be a big night in town.
Several of the streets are closed to traffic, and by 6pm the streets and squares are packed. It is billed as “Noche De Luces” (night of lights) and it would appear this is a regular event to celebrate friendship which takes place on a different holiday throughout the year. This time it’s St Valentine’s turn.

The two main squares have bands playing from 8 pm until 1pm.

They change every 30 minutes or so and range from full piece orchestras to trios. The quality of all the groups is amazing,. This is nothing like Merida! There are two different processions . The first lead by a group of musicians dressed in early Spanish costumes playing mandolins. They stop at every crossroad and play a piece, bringing traffic and foot traffic to a complete stop. It is bedlam, but no one seems to mind.

If we thought that was bedlam, it was nothing compared to the next procession which tries to cross the Zocalo at 10pm when it is at its most crowded. The procession is led by giant figures, perhaps 15 feet tall in brightly coloured costumes being manipulated by a “puppet master” hiding underneath the skirts. A small group of people surround these figures whirling fireworks over their heads. Behind them is a long procession, its participants all carrying candles inside large coloured plastic flowers, the light of the candles making the flowers glow. Every few yards the crowds force them to a standstill, but then a few more fireworks clear the path ahead

There are vendors everywhere carrying enormous bunches of helium balloons most with a valentine theme. Each vendor must have at least a hundred balloons floating above them and it is hard to believe that they will not become airborne.

The air is alive with the sounds of people having a good time. Courting couples are everywhere as are families with young children. In fact the good times are not limited to any particular group. The entire city is out having fun.
We try to think of an occasion in the States that might be like this but quickly become aware that if there was such a night, no one would feel safe.

More of Oaxaca

We can’t get enough of this city and this morning we wander down to explore the blocks and blocks of market halls near the Zocolo. Each market hall specializes in something. There is the hall full of tourist trinkets, the clothing hall, the farmers market hall, the butchers hall.

There is even a street selling nothing but ladies underwear in every style I can imagine, plus a few styles I haven’t imagined, for which I am forever grateful. Then there is the Mexican fast food hall, full of stalls each one barbecuing thinly cut meat. The hall is enclosed and the barbecue smoke just sits in the building. The smoke is so thick it is hard to see more than a few yards, and breathing is very unpleasant, and yet it is packed with customers and vendors who spend their entire day in there. Our eyes begin to water within moments and we can’t wait to get out.

So get out we do, and in fact drive out of the city to see the World heritage Site of Monte Alban. This is not a character out of La Cage Aux Folles but a city built by the Zapotec people way before the Mayans built Chichen Itza.
Monte Alban was inhabited from 500 BC up to 850 AD. It sits on the top of the highest mountain, looking down on the valleys below and the smaller surrounding mountains. The Indians even modified the mountain tops and hillsides. Elevated areas were cut and leveled in order to construct the most important buildings, and the hillsides were terraced for the less important homes and for crop growing. The architects incorporated the shapes and forms of surrounding hills into their buildings showing a true understanding of aesthetics.
Monte Alban is the largest pre Hispanic city found in the region and represents the first urban plan on the American continent. It is also one of the few sites in the world where the rise of the state system of government can be clearly seen, with the economy based on tributes paid by the surrounding communities.
Because of its situation on top of the mountain, it has superb 360 degree views and is a stunning site. There is a huge central Plaza with a series of monumental architectural complexes surrounding it. Further proof of this advanced society is seen in the two observatory buildings and the fact that surrounding buildings were positioned astronomically.

It is nowhere near as well known as Chichen Itza and doesn’t have that “wow factor” but it certainly seems to me to be every bit as impressive.

Oaxaca

From Ukumal we drive back to Merida and then fly to Oaxaca via Mexico City. It is a long day and we don’t arrive at our Oaxaca Hotel until 11pm.

Our Hotel is the Hotel Casa del Sótano, a small charming hotel, fairly centrally located and very reasonable.

Friday Feb 13th, we spend the day on foot exploring Oaxaca. Everyone raves about this city, and now we know why. This is a city that doesn’t do anything by halves. It grabs you by the heart and doesn’t let go. It assaults all the senses and delights most of them. It is vibrant, crowded, noisy,( very noisy), colourful, surprisingly clean, easy to get around, packed with restaurants, cafes and bars, some good, some not so good, but most of all it is just plain fun. It makes Merida look like a quiet backwater from 40 years ago.

It’s a bustling, fast paced, thriving city and is one of the busiest places we have seen. Traffic is a nightmare and parking is impossible. And along with this comes the petty crime. We are warned several times about leaving our car unattended (we have no choice and fortunately nothing happens). This is the first place we have been where graffiti is a major problem. Much of it is political, but it still defaces and scars an otherwise beautiful city.


It’s a city of contrasts. It is an old city, filled with beautiful 16th century churches, that sit next to fabulous museums with exhibits in beautifully designed rooms.
There is a huge old Zocalo (town square) surrounded by old fashioned Mexican restaurants and bars filled with elderly townsfolk, while down the street there are trendy restaurants in hip surroundings serving modern cuisine to well groomed diners. There are street vendors everywhere, even outside the Parisian Bakery and the café that has been voted the best place in Mexico to get a cappuccino.
Many of the wonderful old stone churches and buildings are designed of stone in three colors. There is a pale green local stone, a natural colored stone and a creamy sandstone. Meanwhile the stuccoed buildings next to them are bright and colourful, painted in reds and greens and blues and mustard.

There are fabulously wealthy people, driving European sports cars past the homeless man without even a pair of shoes. Oaxaca even manages to show us the saddest case of poverty we have come across in our travels. Walking down the middle of a street we see a homeless person almost black with grime, wearing what was once a white T shirt, several sizes too small for him, and nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

And everywhere there are the artisans,the artists, and their art,that have made this city so famous.

Akumal

We have booked a condo on the beach for 2 nights to give us a break from the sightseeing and to have a chance to snorkel on the reef and swim with the turtles.
However we end up stuck in a miserable apartment watching the rain pound on our windows and listening to the wind howling through the cracks between the door and window frames and the wall. The apartment is right on the beach and has a huge balcony which would be nice if it was sunny, but those are the only two things it has going for it. The walls are bare, the furniture basic, the kitchen is barely stocked with the basic minimum of utensils, the bath towels are worn and shredded , and the mattress is one of those foam eggshell things. There is one blanket on the bed that is obviously for a twin bed and is perched on top of the king size mattress in a vain attempt to offer a little warmth to two occupants. At one time it was a bright orange color, but it is now so dirty and stained that it is a shabby grey. There is nothing else to put on the bed so we have to make the best of it.
In the kitchen there are four mugs, four plates and four bowls, a few of which match, but most don’t. The four knives, forks and spoons are so thin that they bend when any pressure is put on them. I don’t know whether the average tourist finds this acceptable for $180 a night but I can assure you that gay men don’t and won’t
Suffice it to say, that if you are looking for a condo on the beach in Akumal, I would strongly recommend that you do not stay at the Villas De Rosa

And on to Valladolid.

As we check into the Meson del Marques, our Hotel in Valladolid, we see Bob and Nancy sitting by the pool. Unbeknownst to us they had moved directly from Merida to here, and again we are staying in the same hotel.

Valladolid is remembered by most people for its charming colonial streets and beautiful 16th century monastery built over a cenote. We will remember it for the family of American hippies who played in a bar and called themselves “Eden”.
We grew up in the 60’s and knew families like this, but had no idea they were still viable and living in Valladolid
We, along with Bob and Nancy, listened to them perform and spend some time with them afterwards. The group consists of the parents and two of their children. The two children, wouldn’t you know it, are named Eden and Eve. You couldn’t get more 60’s flower power than that, and it leaves us to ruminate on what the names of the other four children might be. Yes, these happy hippies have managed to sire a total of 6 children. We cannot bring ourselves to ask the names of the other four, but quietly giggle at the possibilities.
The father is named Jhimi, and yes, that is spelt Jhimi, and yes, that is pronounced Jimmy. The mother’s name, unlikely as it might be, is Tracy . She has long out grown that name and we are surprised that they haven’t come up with something more suitable by now.

They play four songs at a local bar and are very good, and then they sit at a table hoping that someone will buy their CD. Later that evening they turn up at our hotel restaurant and play the same four songs. We talk to them and discover that years of illegal substances have taken their toll on Jimmy. He is 52, and looks every day of it. He is rail thin with long grey hair drawn back into a ponytail. When he talks he reveals several missing teeth and more missing brain cells. He is 16 years older than Tracy and they fled to Mexico when her parents objected to him dating their young daughter. How young she was then I didn’t like to ask, but 6 children later she is still small and very pretty.

They live in a tiny Mexican 2 room house that they inherited from a friend who died of alcoholism. They exist on the sale of their CD’s, which they sell for 80 pesos ($6). and when we ask how many CD’s they sold tonight, Eve proudly replies “one”. Tracy explains that they are very good at living on very little, which must be the understatement of the year. We ask what was the most number of CD’s they ever sold at one time and they tell us about a Music Festival they played at where they sold ten of their CD’s. We could have sold a hundred, Jhimi says, but we had only taken ten with us.

If you think you are beginning to understand “where they are coming from”, then just wait for the next question, which is do they get paid for performing in these bars.

The short answer is NO! Tracy’s explanation is that places do offer to pay them, but then it gets all too annoying as they want them to turn up at a specific time, and on specific nights, which is never going to work, she explains!

And for our final insight we learn that the children are home schooled and are fluent in Spanish and English and are now learning Mayan. We are impressed, until Eden, who is 15, asks where Tennessee is. When we simply reply that it is a State, he asks what a state is. Tracy covers for her son, by saying that they think teaching their children about herbal remedies , gardening, and how to raise chickens, is more valuable than so called regular schooling.

We want to buy a copy of their CD, but they refuse to take our money. Jhimi tells us that he would never take money from friends. We are touched, but think that maybe Tracy would be more willing to accept the money as she has eight mouths to feed. But she too refuses.

We graciously accept the CD while feeling terribly guilty. The CD has a tiny hand print on it, which is the handprint of their baby. When we get it back to our room and play it, it has variations of the four songs that they played in each bar tonight. We get the sinking feeling that they only know those four songs.

We are leaving Valladolid the next day, but Bob and Nancy are staying on, and plan to visit the Edens in their home. They email us two days later. “Their house was dismal, a very unkempt two room cinder block construction with the obligatory barking dog chained out front.”

Ek Balam

An hour’s drive from Chichen Iza is another Mayan ruin called Ek Balam. It is vaguely on the way to our next stop, Valladolid, and at the last moment we decide to visit it. We are delighted we did. It is our favourite of all the places we visited. In its heyday it was a large Mayan City, but today, although it boasts 45 structures, only a few of them are restored in any way, so it is a small site. It is unusual because it is surrounded by two concentric stone walls plus another one that unites the central buildings. It has a ball court, plus a very beautiful arch where a sacbé (sacred path) ended, which in old times connected the Mayan kingdoms.
But what puts Ek Balam on the map, is that it has the largest Mayan building that has ever been discovered. It’s not quite as tall as the temple in Chichen Itza, but its measurements make it the largest building by sheer volume. And this is the first building we have been allowed to climb. Everywhere else has now stopped tourists from climbing the temples, and while we quite understand the necessity for doing this we are disappointed that we haven’t been able to experience them from the top.

But here we can, and the view is breathtaking. We even have birds of prey circling below us. What adds to the importance of this building is that there are some unusual and well preserved carvings along with a small amount of original wall paintings. Some of the carvings are unique, depicting Mayans with wings making them look like angels. While restoration was taking place they found these carvings and paintings actually hidden underneath an exterior staircase. They had obviously been built over at one point and so they are perfectly preserved and in fact looking at them today they seem new. Even the painting is still brightly coloured.

Ek Balam is beautiful with a magical feeling about it. We can actually sense the spirit of a Mayan town while we stand in the middle of the small site admiring the buildings all around.
The buildings are set in what appears to be a huge ornamental garden, but which is in fact just the jungle. Some of the undergrowth has been cleared to create patches of lawn and paths to allow access from one building to another. What is left is huge stately old trees and palm trees, with flowering bushes everywhere. The air is alive with the sounds of birds that swoop from one tree to another.

We finally get to see the Motmot bird, a rare, beautiful and unusual bird. It is of average size, looking a little like a kingfisher (it belongs to the kingfisher family) with striking blue and green colouring. But what makes it famous, is its tail. It has two extremely long tail feathers, which are in fact long bare shafts with a small shimmering blue fan on the end. When it sits in a tree, the two tail feathers hang down below the branch and the bird often wags them from side to side like a pendulum. But having such a fabulous tail has inadvertently led to the bird being endangered, as the two feathers are much prized for making Mayan headdresses

We spent a wonderful two hours at Ek Balam, soaking up the spirit of the place, enjoying the buildings and their wonderful surroundings.
It was made even more enjoyable by the fact that the entrance fee was only 31 pesos (less than three dollars). Every Mayan Site we have visited so far has charged the same entrance fee of 72 pesos (Chitchen Itza is a little more), and the woman who owns this site is supposed to charge the same. But the government has stopped helping fund more excavations so she believes as the site is not fully developed, the visitors should not pay full price. This is a wonderful gesture but maybe not the correct one, as it prevents her from making the same amount of money as other sites do, and therefore the government will always ignore her demands.

Chichen Itza, one more time

We awake early to the really loud and weird mewing sound of peacocks. There are many in the grounds of the hotel and we had enjoyed watching them yesterday, but listening to them at 6 in the morning is something else entirely.

But we are up in plenty of time to be the first people through the gates of Chichen Itza at 8am. This morning it is quite magical as there are just a handful of other tourists. We can examine the carvings and stone work, and take photos without fear of interruption.

The only thing that spoils the site is the flotilla of souvenir sellers who line every path with temporary stalls set up with saw horses and old pieces of plywood covered with their tacky trinkets. Others string their T shirts from ropes slung between the trees. The government long ago announced that the Maya people were to have free and uninterrupted access to Chichen Itza. This was a decision made with only the best intentions, but it has become sadly abused as every morning an army of peddlers, all claiming to be Mayan Indians, make their way into the grounds and set up their stalls. In an effort to stop this, the government built a large number of permanent stalls outside the main entrance and offered them to the Mayan vendors. But the vendors shunned them preferring to be nearer the ruins.

Choosing to be inside the ruins with no permanent stall makes for a much harder way of life. Every morning all their wares together with the tables etc have to be carried into Chichen Itza , unpacked and set up. Every evening it all has to be dismantled, packed up and carried away. The more conscientious vendors can be seen struggling with their loads piled high on handcarts, wheeling them in from up to a mile away. But the lazier vendors have found a solution to all this carrying. They merely take everything and hide it in the jungle just feet away from the paths where they set up shop.

As we walk through Chichen Itza at eight in the morning the jungle is alive with Mayans dragging their wares out of the trees, and the undergrowth is littered with plastic cloths and sheets of plywood. It is a depressing sight that truly takes away from the majestic ruins. But as long as the Mayans are allowed free access to Chichen Itza there is nothing that can be done. The brochures all urge the tourists not to buy from these vendors, but it obviously has little effect.