San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico. November 27, 2009.
Back to Mexico. San Cristobal seems a world apart after polluted, dysfunctional Guatemala. Relaxed and sophisticated, at least in the 40 or 50 blocks surrounding the plaza - lots of colonial history, a variety of inexpensive restaurants, warm in the day, cool at night for sleeping, and colorful streets, just like Antigua, but buzzing with life and humor. A big leafy square at the center - there are also many little parks and churchyards scattered about - with a marimba band at night.
Above and below: Guatemalan bus transfer point at Las Achiotes, where Highway 1 meets Central America 1, 15 kms. NE of Quetzaltenango. The 2nd-class buses here have the same airhorns as long-haul transport trucks and the drivers use them enthusiastically. Packed coaches piled high with sacks and bundles pour into the confluence from four directions, intense young conductors leaning out from the bottom step calling out town names in a trademark guttural slur.
Passengers dash into traffic to make split-second connections. We were twenty minutes here, parked at a gas station, waiting for the Mexico-bound shuttle. A last frantic taste of street-level Guatemala's noise and smog.
Above: First look at Chiapas after crossing the Mexican frontier. We changed shuttles again at the border. Other than that small dislocation, the crossing was smooth. Unexpectedly, no exit fee was required from the Guatemalan side. Money changers hover nearby to turn your remaining quetzales into pesos - the rate is unfavorable, so try to have as few quetzales as possible.
Along with churches, you'll find plenty of ATM's when you disembark in San Cristobal. The not-too-distant days of waiting hours in a bank for a humorless teller to convert your traveler's cheques seem to have passed.
Above and below: context-free images from non-touristified San Cristobal from my first afternoon walk-around.
San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico. November 29, 2009.
Eleven more. A photographic record of San Cristobal's historical streets, colorful churches and cute Mayan children is well in hand, I discovered from the town's postcard racks and bookstores, so I won't try to compete with that here.
Instead, I'll play the contrarian and put up some images from the other San Cristobal. That is, the large Mexican commercial hub living a parallel life to the city's tourism-friendly center. For me, these prettified places trading on their history and ambience become wearying after the initial seductive buzz. There's a lack of presence and connectedness for a temporary visitor.
Politics and religion. The sign above is part of a more or less permanent occupation in front of the cathedral. There seemed to be a link with the Zapatista movement, according to the iconography, but I won't pretend any first-hand knowledge. I tried to gauge a revolutionary spark in the Cristobal air, but beyond t-shirts bearing Subcomandante Marcos' image, I could only discern that Mexicans on the street are determined to enjoy the acquisitive habits of middle-class people everywhere.
Protestant groups have made a strong evangelical push into Catholic central America. Above we see a trio singing the word early in the day, also in front of the cathedral. The preacher dude is the one with his back to the camera. You can see from the clothing: this is a cool place in November.
I've been forming brief friendships with street dogs during this whole trip. This one was so nice, yet he's covered in scars. A fact of Latin American life.
Shoeshine guy on his break. You'll never want for polished footwear down here. This was one of the upscale operations. There are boys with wooden kits also working the sidewalks. If your shoes can be shined, you'll get hit on with annoying frequency. The best defense is sneakers.
Did you notice the Santa hats in the picture above?
Obligatory market shot. Colorful pictures of fruits and vegetables piled high at a market stall is the photographic equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel.
And no comment on these last three.