(An extension of the Puebla trip).

One of the main goals of our grande voyage was to take a small detour to some sets of ruins in the state of Puebla.  Our Lonley Planet guide told us that we could find a bus directly to the first set of ruins from the Puebla bus station.  When we got to the bus station, however, we couldn't find the bus, so we decided to go to Mexico's smallest state, Tlaxcala, to get a transfer.  When we got to Tlaxcala, we were pleasently surprised at how pretty it was and decided to stop by for a while.  It was full of Neoclassical Spanish architecture, shady trees and young families.  On the side of the Zocalo a market was set up, so we decided to check it out.  It was called an alternative market, and it had fantastic things for sale.  Organic honey, the heart of maguey plants, rompope (egg nog), baby ostriches, cheese, fine handcrafted gifts and interesting pieces of clothing.  People gently encouraged us to try their things, but there was no real pressure to buy anything if you didn’t want to. 

Again, we consulted our LP to decide how to get from Tlaxcala to the ruins, but it gave us the wrong bus stop location... from that point we ditched the book and decided to figure it out ourselves.  It’s almost dangerous to be able to speak the language the way I do, because we don't bother to take taxis like sensible tourists, we just ask transit drivers where they’re going and hop on whatever they’re driving.  I think the only thing I haven’t travelled on in this country is a donkey.  Not that I’m not open to that. 

Eventually we found a rickety bus whose driver said he would be passing the ruins.  We bumbled and rambled inside of this box through little towns in the middle of nowhere.  Sometimes, the only living things we saw were herds of livestock or dogs with their heads and tongues hanging very precautiously over the steep edges of roofs.  The music playing on the bus was this old salsa, and we thought to ourselves, how quaint!  Here we are, two little Canadians on this old public transit bus with latin music,a journeying to the mystical ruins…

Almost an hour later, but bus abruptly halted after having passed a ghost town.  The only thing we saw was a long dirt road and a mountain, and the driver told us to get out, this was our stop.  Sylwia and I looked at each other with a bit of amusement and a lot of disbelief.  Where in the world would this road take us, there was nobody there!  Where was the cushy taxi that the Lonely Planet told us about?  Why hadn’t it sagely warned us that we should expect to climb two kilometres up a steep mountain?  There was a road that wrapped itself up this mountain, but we were running out of time before the area would close, so we chose to hike up our own steep path, thus saving time.  The Lonely Planet had made everything seem so simple and romantic.  Catch a couple of buses, take a taxi, and soak in the beauty of ancient architecture.  Ha. 

We got to the ticket booth for the pyramids (Xochitecatl), and I went to the guards, who must have wondered where in the world this wild, sweaty white girl had appeared from.  I panted out that we wanted two tickets and that we eventually wanted to go to the other pyramids at Cacaxtla.  They said we could visit these ones with enough time to walk over to Cacaxtla, it wasn't very far away.

When we went to the fist pyramid at Xochitecatl, the spiral pyramid, there were a group of military police officers at the top of it staring down at us.  After my experiece with Mexican police and men in general, we decided to detour that one and visit the others.  Mostly, we sat in front of the ruins and admired them, having already tired ourselves out a bit.  Eventually, we decided to get to the other set of pyramids at Cacaxtla before they closed as well. 

Our dear Lonely Planet had said that we could simply hike between the two sites, and hike we did.  What we did was walk another two kilometres through a valley, half of the time down, obviously, and the other half up.  To make the experience even more authentic for us, somebody planted rows of corn on the path, so we were climbing between stalks of corn that were taller than us.  At another point, we were coming to a dried up marsh with five foot blades of grass.  We started laughing uncontrollably, the situation seemed more and more ludicrous with each step.  At one point, the path was so steep that we were grabbing onto plants to keep ourselves from tumbling down into the valley.  All of this for a man made stone formation?  Oh yes.  And there were no other people around, only us.  So although it seemed ridiculous at the time, it was beautiful, peaceful, and authentic.  No shady men trying to sell us indigenous whistles for $50.  It was just us. 

I would say that in the end, it was worth it.  We saw some really interesting murals, the places in the pyramids where people would have lived and where the government would have officiated.  

When we finished, the rain was starting to come down.  The men who had been ¨working¨ at the pyramid all got into a car and wished us a good walk.  They sped away and left us at a fork in the dusty road.  We realized that we had absolutely no idea of where we were going and being the only people around, we couldn’t ask for directions.  We decided on the road that dipped down a bit, figuring that going down a mountain was a good idea, and it turned out to be the right choice.  Except that the rain was now pouring down on us and we were uncertain about how we would get back to Puebla.  As we were going to cross the road for shelter, a colectivo public transit van came by, asking where we were headed.  I said to the driver, it doesn’t matter, where are YOU going?  He was going to a hamlet that was about half way to where we wanted to go.  

Sylvia and I were the only two people in the colectivo, but that was ok.  I asked the young driver to blast the reggaeton music, and he did… we wound around roads and sang along to racy songs, knowing that we would probably have the best sleep of our lives that night.

On Sunday evening, we were picked up by a family that we know to head to their house in Oaxaca, the supposed centre of Mexican culture. 

To be continued.

All in all, we weren't able to explore the city as much as we could have because of our pyramid explorations and the weather, but we spent at least a day and a half admiring the colonial Spanish architecture and learning about its history during a tour.  It's said that there are about 365 churches, one for every day of the year.  The city really reminded me of Beunos Aires in Argentina.  We went into these churches, enjoyed the traditional food (like mole, camotes, and chiles en nogada), went to antique markets, and a famous museum.  While Puebla was strangely clean and historically fascinating, the most unforgetable part of the trip was our misguided adventures in ancient ruin exploration... coming to you next!

I escaped the big city and found my vision of the real Mexico on Saturday- complete with donkeys in the street, men in cowboy hats and Municipal Hug Day. 

I received an invitation from one of my best friends, Ivan, to go to another state beside ours, called Michoacán.  He and two of his friends were going to look at the possibility of a social development project near a lake called Lago de Pátzcuaro.  The area is known for its forests, mountain landscapes, and monarch butterfly reserves. 

The three hour drive down was spectacular; all of the pine trees and forests reminded me of driving through Canada just before fall arrives. 

We arrived to the colonial city of Pátzcuaro first, to talk to my friend’s contact.  He wanted to show them the area and talk about how he could help them with their project.  My impression of him was that he was the big duck in this small city.  He had run for politics, and we could see his name painted around the town and his smiling face on the propaganda.  This was interesting, because I didn’t see him smile once.  While he chain-smoked his cigarettes, he would point out how he was developing this project or that.  He didn’t talk to me at all. 

We got into the car and I assumed that we would start heading to the lake, but we never made it there.  Instead, we were taken to all of his businesses and properties, to see where my friends would like to set up their own project.  Most places were under-developed buildings that would need a lot of work.  The most interesting places that he showed us were the maquilas, or sewing factories.  Mexico has become famous for its maquilas, especially around the Northern border.  They are some of the worlds most famous sweat shops.  The ones in this city came as a surprise when I arrived- large, bright, lots of ventilation and space to work.  There was music.  They were making clothing for Wal-Mart, and have to abide by certain standards of quality and a good working environment.  You can see these in my photo album. 

Throughout the tours, it started to become clear that this man wanted someone to create business for him, not to help with social development.  He finally disclosed that he wouldn’t be giving money to help and that he wanted to establish commerce, not good-will.  It was disappointing for my friends to have come all that way to find out, but the trip wasn’t a lost cause.

We stopped by the central plaza called the Zocalo.  Here I found a sign for a holiday that had just passed, called Municipal Hug Day.  I could really picture all of the people in the city wrapped in one giant embrace.  From there we went to the market, where we bought bread and cheese typical to the state. 

At the end of the night, we stopped in our state capital, Toluca, for dinner.  It’s another pretty colonial city with a huge Zocalo and lots of churches.  There was something special about the area at night, especially with Day of the Dead coming up.

The ambience of these old cities, coupled with the laughter of great friends, made for a really memorable day- even if it turned out nothing like I had planned. 

Here is a link to an article on the mix-up between Halloween and Day of the Dead in Pátzcuaro: http://www.mexiconews.com.mx/

Yesterday, my roomates and I went to my favourite part of Mexico City, Xochimilco. 

The area has a lot of history, but is best known for what I affectionately call "drunken bumper boats".  Young adults and tourists gather in groups of ten to thirty and load onto giant, colourful boats for trips around the canals.  The most important things to bring on the trip are botles of tequila and music (a ghetto blaster or having mariachis hitch on to the side of the boat).  Some people sit placidly while the boat is guided along, and some groups hitch their boats together and jump in unison... our group was somewhere inbetween.  It's also not unusual to have someone get on your boat to deliver food (I had Mexican white corn on the cob, sprinkled with cheese and chili powder), silver, or propaganda for a club. 

Besides the party atmosphere, I really love the history of the area.  I'll add a synopsis of it below, it comes from an art show that I was in last year.

So, here's a thank you to Hector and his wonderful amigos, we love you. 

Artist Statement:

In February 2004, I traveled to Mexico City to experience my alternate practicum at the Dolores Olmedo Patiño Museum.  My goal, besides studying museum education, was to produce a series of photographs that would connect visual art and history. 

One afternoon while I was walking around the museum grounds, a friend casually mentioned to me that the hill I was passing used to be the location for an ancient aboriginal ceremony called the “New Fire.”  In fact, he continued, the same aboriginals fought with conquistador Hernan Cortés on the hill.  I was immediately enthralled, and decided that my free time would be dedicated to exploring the area, called Xochimilco. 

The name Xochimilco ("so-chee-MIL-co") comes from the Nahautl word Xóchitl (flower) and milli (cultivated field).  The Xochimilca, a Nahuatl tribe, founded their city between the 8^th and 10^th centuries, in the southern tip of the Valley of Mexico.  Another tribe, the Aztecs (or Mexica) founded Tenochtitlán and the Aztec empire farther north. Soon after the Aztecs' arrival, they conquered the Xochimilcas, whose agricultural fields, or chinampas, were used to provide the food for the growing Aztec empire.

The Xochimilca people were the first people to create the chinampas, or “floating garden” system of food production.  The chinampas were formed by alternating layers of aquatic weeds, muck, and earth packed inside rectangular cane frames.  Although they originally floated on the surface, the rafts eventually became rooted to the lake bottom

Today, the economy of Xochimilco depends on tourism rather than agriculture.  Visitors can travel through the chinampas in colourful boats, while passing flower markets, historic Spanish churches, and stalls full of beautiful handicrafts. 

Mexico was full of increadible art, history, and culture; especially at the Dolores Olmedo Patino Museum.  However, this didn't seem to satisfy my craving for a new story to show and tell.  

It seems that the story was waiting the entire time in a nostalgic hill, hidden in the back yard.