July 7th to 14th, 2004

July 7th to 11th, 2004
Tickled by a drunk man

We relax and explore for a few days, getting to know our new environment. San Cristobal is something like I’ve never seen. There are many tourists but the diversity of the atmosphere doesn’t end there, the endless different tribes of native cultures have a significant presence in the city as well. Our budget and the expense of staying in a hotel causes us to be even more strict about preparing our own food so we make many trips to the outdoor market. We see natives dressed in many different traditional garbs, which lends a splash of colour to the already diverse potpourri of cultures. It’s the south’s answer to the American melting pot: many cultures and peoples cohabiting the same place, and I am happy to see how the natives are not seduced by western ways and keep following their traditions. When we eat out it usually consists of tamales of which there are probably about fifty sorts. The corn dough can be filled with beans, mole, sweet corn, chicken or many other things and wrapped in either corncob leaves or banana leaves. In one of our visits to the market a drunk man walks up behind me and tickles me under the arm. I was warned that this might happen, San Cristobal is notorious for its tourist ticklers. There’s not much one can do except walk around with one’s arms tightly pressed against the body, and that just leaves you wide open for the knee grabbers…
We prepare for an encounter with the Zapatistas, reading whatever we can get our hands on (as well as some articles Gustavo kindly emails us from Oaxaca) and visiting the CAPISE, an organization that is proving from a legal point of view that the Mexican federal government is conducting illegal military operations in Chiapas. Among other things they have themselves verified the locations of military bases throughout the state and determined the strategy of war being used by studying military handbooks.

This chilly mountain city is quite beautiful, surrounded by peaks all the buildings have tile roofs and many older ones are made of adobe. Hundreds of locals from outlying communities have moved here to sell corn, chewing gum, handmade cloths, hammocks, ice cream, and whatever else might please a tourist (toilet paper, salad, mini-revolutionaries). The amount of children participating in this street work is quite disturbing.

July 12th
We take a minibus (colectivo) to Oventic. This little village is one of five “snails” where outsiders can come to find out about Zapatista action, propose projects, and al sorts of other stuff. After about an hour and a half of mountain driving we arrive at a sign saying, “welcome to Zapatista territory”. Upon entering the fenced in village we leave our passports with a guard and wait our turn to talk to the “Good Government” or Junta del Buen Gobierno. We wait for a while with a whole bunch of foreigners and then a guy with a ski mask on comes and leads us off to talk to the reception commission. Two men and a woman, also in ski masks, sit in a barn at about two meters from us on a bench. As we talk sheep wander around outside the door bleating. They are mesmerizing with two eyes that stare out of a black emptiness. They talk to us of the fight for justice, of their gratitude that we’ve come so far and sacrificed to see them. They tell us how the native people of Chiapas started an armed revolution in ’94 to put an end to poverty and exploitation and demand a life of dignity that they deserve. They insist that the fight for justice knows no barriers, that any race or religion can participate in any country in the same fight. The aim: globalization, but of solidarity and justice this time. They tell us that the command must be consulted to authorize our visit to a Zapatista village we suggest Thursday and they say yes. We could visit some more and take pictures but we’re “full” so we head back to the city to ruminate.

July 13th
I walk out of the downtown area to a special place near the boulevard where many men are yelling “Tuxtla Tuxtla!” After a two-tamale breakfast one of these men ushers me into a passenger van. Ten minutes later the van is full and we are speeding towards Tuxtla. I talk to a fellow passenger almost all the way down into the big ugly city. Arriving in downtown Tuxtla I phone Daniel and he directs me to his house where Nelly has been waiting for her new hind legs. I don’t have the supplier’s number so I wait till the afternoon in a park in front of Daniels’ house. Father and son show up and the waiting begins. We go to a bike shop and get the phone number but must wait till four when the offices open. After hanging out and staring at the ceiling of the living room for a few hours I contact the supplier. He says he can give me an answer about my rim in two hours, I explain that I need to have it installed and head back to San Cristobal tonight, he says ok. I wait I wait I wait some more. At six thirty he confirms that he’s got a rim that fits my bike (but not the one I ordered). At seven thirty he shows up at the bike shop (where I’ve been waiting) with a front rim. He explains that he doesn’t know anything about bikes and so he had no idea that there was a difference between a front and rear rim. As the shop closes at eight anyway I arrange with the owner to have the rim picked up and installed for ten o’clock the next morning. Back at the house where in total I have said goodbye for good about five times today I complete my famished day (2 tamales, 3 measly sandwiches) with three tiny quesadillas and head off to bed once again in the camping van.

July 14
On the way to the bike shop this morning I stop at a little restaurant and stuff my starving guts. My bike is almost ready when I get there so I take a few minutes to read about cyclo-tourism in the 70’s. Man they knew how to dress back then. I ride through Tuxtla down the central avenue and arrive at that special place where many men are shouting “San Cristobal San Cristobal!” Off I am once again, it feels like a long separation from my love. I bike home fast through downtown for a joyous homecoming.