We got up on our final morning in Puerto Escondido with mosquito bites the size of bread rolls. Legs and arms so swollen it looked like we had extra limbs; skin so itchy and red it looked like we had a severe case of psoriasis. These bites were the work of no ordinary mozzies - we reckon these were mutant mosquitoes, ninja fighting their way past deet and citronella to reach their blood-thirsty goal and feast on our innocent bodies.
Thankful to be heading away from the coast, we made it to Oaxaca City, a place that is now firmly one of our favourite places in the world. Here you experience real Mexican culture at its finest with all the charm and character that is distinctly Oaxacan. Every building is small and painted a different colour. Old ladies with faces like those you see in National Geographic magazine walk around in traditional dress carrying baskets on their heads. If you like to just experience the daily life of a culture, Oaxaca is the place for you. We went everywhere: from colourful produce markets to bars in dodgy parts of town that smelled like hash.
One day we visited El Tule, a small town just outside of central Oaxaca, to see a famous 2000+ year old tree (I am a tree hugger, after all) and we decided to take a bus because hey, why take a cab when you can move around like a local? Walking down congested streets in suffocating heat to get to the bus station, I noticed there were an awful lot of girls dressed up like they were going clubbing (it was midday). But I didn't pass judgment of any kind; they may simply have been trying to impress the hairy and robust food vendor because they loved the way he tossed his tacos. Navigating the bumpy roads and being careful not to step on the suspiciously large number of empty condom packs around (still no judgement) we finally made it to the smoky station to the soundtrack of 'Loca People' blaring out from a speaker nearby.
Our outward journey was uneventful and the tree was lovely but it was our return journey that stood out that day. The driver had promised to shout out to us when we reached our stop but didn't bother and we soon realised we had no clue where we were. Jumping off the bus, I recommended street x but Imran insisted his instincts told him street y was a better option. That's cool; he has a better sense of direction than me.
But why oh why do Imran's instincts lead us down red light districts?! Street y was full-on brothel central with partially-hidden women on their knees in dark doorways, married men furtively looking around trying to quickly find anyone to satisfy their kinky fetishes that their wives would kick them out of the house for suggesting, chicks staring at the size of Imran's wallet and wondering how to give him a "come back later with plenty of cash when you've gotten rid of the Mrs" look. Putting aside the depressing issues related to prostitution, the saddest and most worrying thing I noticed was that the clothes the women wore were no different to the outfits teenage girls wear in London on a Saturday night.
Still, we made it back ok and, with every body part safely contained in its rightful home, we moved on to Merida.
First impressions of Merida weren't good. The place looked, quite frankly, like a shit hole. The airline had lost our luggage so obviously the only way to deal with the fact that we were in a dive and walking around in 35+ degree heat in our flying uniform of fleeces and hiking boots was to get drunk. Artificial temporary happiness: you just can't beat it. Luckily for our heads, it didn't come to this. Our luggage was located later that night and we ended up really loving Merida thanks to the Day of the Dead celebrations. Let me explain.
Every year in Mexico, for a week at the end of October and the start of November, celebrations are held for loved ones who have passed. The people hang up decorations everywhere - mostly of skeletons - and put out the favourite food and drink of the deceased family members. The belief is that the spirits of their loved ones join them on November 2nd and enjoy the festivities with them. There is no fear of death as they accept it's the only certainty in life; something which, if resisted, brings great sadness when actually the fact that they were able to know and love the passed person is worth celebrating. They eat sombre family meals in cemeteries (even on graves apparently), hold prayer ceremonies and then go out and enjoy themselves. It's a fantastic attitude and a really lovely tradition.
Anyway, in Merida - just as in every city we'd been to - festivities were taking place in the main central square with food stalls, artisan markets and traditional dance shows dotted around. In the evening there was a stage set up directly in front of the beautifully lit cathedral for a comedy play. We didn't understand any of the play but gathered it was about a family enjoying their celebrations at home with the spirits of two unseen loved ones floating around, faces painted as skeletons and dressed in regal outfits. Combined with the stunning setting, I don't think there are many times when the energy of other people feels so good as when you're standing in a crowd of 5000+ and every single person is laughing heartily at the top of his or her voice. It was definitely one of my most favourite moments in Mexico. And as for the idea that ghosts walk among us that week? We're not sure what we believe but when we looked back at our pictures from the evening of the play we spotted a couple in the bottom right of the photo below, headless, blurred and see-through while everyone else looks normal. Photographic coincidence or something spooky? You decide!
Chichen Itza and Tulum are home to ancient Mayan ruins which are counted as one of the new Wonders of the World. We've watched a lot of documentaries on the Mayans and think they're an incredible bunch of people with a really interesting history. We thought we would love seeing the ruins of their civilisation but I'll be honest - we got pretty bored. The ruins are certainly spectacular; in Tulum they're right on the beach which makes for a gorgeous setting. But the sites are jam-packed with tourists and the whole 'event' was just way too touristy for us. Once we'd admired the sites for half an hour we wanted to leave. The huge loud crowds mean you can't just sit peacefully and soak in the spiritual energy of the place. They're obviously worth seeing and we're really glad we did but we enjoyed talking to our Mayan taxi driver and learning about his culture just as much, and him taking us to a traditional Mayan cafe full of local people for lunch was the highlight of the tour.
For five years now, people have been stopped from climbing the Chichen Itza pyramid steps. Only two women have been allowed to do it and one of them is Jennifer Lopez - she filmed the "I'm Into You" video there. She was put up by the Mexican government in a $1.5k per night hotel according to our local source, but had to pay her own staff. So she hired local Mayan people and paid them just a handful of dollars a day. I don't know if the story is true but if it is, I find it sad that people with such outer beauty don't consider it necessary to cultivate inner beauty. Greed and lack of humility are very ugly traits, Ms "I'm still Jenny from the block" Lopez. Despite insisting that my behind was growing to J-Lo proportions the longer I stayed (and ate) in Mexico, I wasn't allowed to climb the pyramid. Never mind!
The ocean in Playa Del Carmen is lovely, famous for being seven shades of blue and we spent most of our time frolicking (oo er missus) in the surf.
Mexico is an incredible country; a land where everyone has a smile for everyone else, where nobody is on time for anything and every other car is an old-style VW Beetle circa 1992. The mannequins in shops are just as skinny as those at home except in Mexico they have big bums. I tell you, the clothes look a million times better! At least, they would do if Mexican women weren't so obsessed with pink clothes. Bloody disgusting pink everywhere. What are we? Frickin' five year olds?
The people are SHORT- it tells you a lot if I say Imran and I felt tall! The men were all about my height. The women would be invisible if it weren't for those sexy arses shouting for attention in hot pink Lycra.
Everyone in Mexico is snogging. All the time. Everywhere. All ages. And rather than feeling like we were moving along with a mobile porn movie set, it was actually a really lovely characteristic of the amazing people and their passion. Even the pigeons ignore the crumbs on the ground because they're busy kissing.
Thanks, Mexico; we couldn't have asked for a better start to our trip and the other countries will need to be something really special to top you... but we're ready to leave now and find out. Dragging our burnt toffee tans to the airport, we're ready For Ecuador. I'll let you know if we even make it there - our connecting flight is via Miami and we all know how popular Imran is at American immigration!
Adios amigos and chat to you again soon. Xx
No comments:
Post a Comment