Tuesday, February 25, 2003
Breakfast at Café Quiptic again. There couldn't
possibly be anyplace better. It's fun to watch all
the activity in the square while we're eating. We saw
Juan Valdez and his three burros caravanning down the
street. It's another beautiful morning, and the
fountain in the Zócalo is on today.
The combi driver for our trip to San Cristóbal de
Las Casas was playing "let's see how many people we
can cram in the minivan," a very popular game. The
combis rarely leave before they're completely full,
but this guy must have been a clown in a former life
or something - always room for one more! We were
loaded with 18 people, three of which were large
(ranging from about 5 to 10 years old) lap
children.
Just out of town the driver had to stop at an
immigration checkpoint. They were looking for illegal
Guatemalans and questioned one man, a mechanic
traveling with a greasy, grimy autopart in his lap,
but he was legal and we all went on our way.
The Mercado Municipal madhouse
Our hotel in San Cristóbal is the Hotel Fray
Bartolomé de Las Casas, 180 pesos, no TV, hot water
from 7:00 to 10:00 a.m. and 7:00 to 10:00 p.m. More
expensive rooms have a TV and hot water around the
clock, but we can live with the restriction, and I
don't need Spanish-language TV every day. The rooms
are centered around an attractive patio courtyard,
and we're about two blocks from the Zócalo.
The multicolored mercado
We went for a wander and ended up at the Mercado
Municipal, which extends for several blocks. San
Cristóbal's market is said to be the most
extraordinary bazaar in all of southern Mexico. You
name it, they sell it - pots and tools and clothes
and produce and meat and CDs and more. The colorful
Chamula and Zinacanteca Indians in their traditional
clothing with babies and bundles on their backs are a
sight to behold. It was really something to see and
experience.
Uh, what's in the chorizo?
You really have to be on your toes when you go
walking in San Cristóbal. They're tearing up the
sidewalks to do sewer work, and they don't have any
of those sissy warning signs we have in the U.S. No
caution tape, no orange cones, no closed sidewalks,
and no suing if you get hurt. Apparently they
actually expect you to - get this - pay attention to
what you're doing! The holes are sometimes very big.
Tom saw a dog fall into one, but he managed to
escape. Whew!
Walk at your own risk
We ate dinner at the Restaurante Tuluc, just up
from our hotel. Their specialty is Italian and
Argentinian cuisine. I had some delicious onion soup
and spaghetti bolognesa. Tom had tacos dorado. The
only thing that could have made it better is if
they'd laid off the cheesy easy listening music from
the '70s. Tom knew all the songs - Ha!
The gringos of San Cristóbal are a strangely
unfriendly lot. We've never witnessed so many people
make such an effort not to make eye contact. What's
up with that? Are they each trying to pretend they're
the only gringo in town and they discovered the
place?
Jana and her new friend outside his vegetarian
restaurant
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