Mexico Day 9

We woke at 3am and didn’t get back to sleep - so we were a bit weary for our 7am breakfast and getting onto the bus at 7.30 for the 1 hour journey over the mountain to get on a fast boat to ride through Sumidero Canyon. It was an exhilarating experience. We stopped to view crocodiles and egrets before hurtling through the canyon with its cliffs of over 3000ft towering on both sides. We stopped at a feature they call the Christmas tree, which I have tried to show in a collage. It was one of those experiences of a natural wonder which made me feel quite emotional. (Mr C said it was probably lack of sleep). The waterfall sometimes is strong and though today it was a mere veil, it did mean we could really see the limestone shapes under the ferns and other greenery. Purply-blue flowers looked so pretty beside the trailing pale green fronds. It was a wonderful morning.

We stopped for lunch in a garden place were the only veggie option was guacamole (again) or soup. This was bland and tasteless, being a load on sweetcorn in a kind of pink gravy with cornmeal balls. I stirred in a 1/2 teaspoon of a chilli sauce. Now it blew my head off.

Next stop was San Lorenzo Zinacatan. 99.1% of its population is Tzotzil Maya an indigenoys people with linguistic and cultural ties to other highland Maya people. Zinacatan is a mountain town where the people grow flowers to sell. The whole valley was covered with plastic greenhouses. There we visited San Lorenzo church where no photos inside were allowed as the people there think the devil will be let in. There were stunning chandeliers and beautiful ribbons decorating the interior. Men did the church work and policed to make sure no photos were taken. The community governs itself and gets special rights, being an indigenous community. The women wore cotton dresses with pretty pink pattered shawl/blouses.

The most different town was our last San Juan de Chamula. It really stretched the mind. The white and green church of San Juan is filled with colourful candles, and smoke from burning incense. Along the walls of the church are Catholic saints resting on tables posted in the church, but they represent Mayan gods. Candles are lit and the people sit on the floor and pray below the saints. The local form of Catholicism is a blend of pre-conquest Maya customs, Spanish Catholic traditions, and subsequent innovations.

There are no pews in the church, and the floor area is completely covered in a carpet of green pine boughs. Curanderos (shaman or medicine people - we saw one old woman working but the rest were men) diagnose medical, psychological or relationship afflictions and prescribe remedies such as candles of specific colours and sizes, specific flower petals or feathers, or - in a dire situation - a live chicken. The specified remedies are brought to a healing ceremony. Chamula families kneel on the floor of the church with sacrificial items, stick candles to the floor with melted wax, drink ceremonial cups of Posh, artisanal sugar-cane-based liquor, and chant prayers in an archaic dialect of Tzotzil. When we were in we saw all this going on (we wore our masks as there was a lot of coughing which could have been Covid). Apparently it is ok to watch as having the ritual witnessed is a good thing. A middle-aged man sat on the floor with the elderly female shaman and she laid hands on his back and front, moving and hovering with them, then she held a black chicken, passing it back and forward over lighten candles while it squawked in outrage. Two women, one with a baby on her back, the other with an older girl witnessed. They had laid down stuff in poly bags which the shaman hastily removed to a safe distance from the candles before quickly wringing the chicken’s neck and laying it down with its feet still twitching. Then the afflicted man gave her a huge bundle of long black candles - I gave up counting at 60 - then she set them upright in rows. As this was happening the man got his wallet out and gave one of the women a note. They all hurried off while he continued his business with the shaman. All the above took about 15 minutes and wasn’t over when we left.

Once back in town I bought some garish Christmas tree decorations for next to nothing for the grandchildren- after the major expense of £50 to replace my glaucoma drops. The small plastic bottle a month’s supply came in all leaked out - probably due to the change in pressure as we reached 7000ft from 30 yesterday. Nick, a GP in our group, confirmed my belief that it was not a good idea for my sight to miss taking them so our guide Francisco came to the pharmacy with me to explain what I needed. I also had the tiny bottle and my prescription but that wasn’t necessary. It was very lucky they had the right stuff. I’m glad we get free prescriptions at home as all my pension would go on medication.

We have had an excellent full-on day though some bad news too. Jessica, the American in the group, found that the shootings in Virginia were at her son’s Uni. He is unhurt but she is naturally very upset and stayed by herself today.