Chamula

Today I took a tour of two villages on the outskirts of San Cristobal. I read about this tour in the guidebook that the German guy I lived with in Mexico City gave me before I left. To be perfectly honest, I am desperately trying to make friends! Unfortunately, I was the only single person under 40 in the group. This making friends thing is harder than I expected! But I am really glad I went. Our guide spoke english and he was really knowledgeable and opinionated on the issues facing these two little towns. First, we went to Chamula. The town is home to one tribe from the Tzotsil ethnic Mayan group. Regular Mexican and foreign women can only live there if they marry a man from this tribe. The people of this little pueblo have fought long and hard to protect their culture. The town makes laws seperate from the Mexican government. It is totally comunal living. The women wear a certain outfit that only women of this tribe wear. The outfit consists of a long, thick, black skirt made of wool. It is held up by a thick cloth belt. Their tops are really beautiful. They are silky, ususally blue, with little gold buttons on the collar. Usually, they wear shawls around their shoulders and over their heads. And most all of them have babies on their backs. It seems to be part of the outfit! I still can't get over how young the mothers are. Maybe they aren't the moms? I don't know for sure. The poorest of the poor women don't wear shoes. The other women wear little sandals. Kinda like jellies, actually. I think I might get me a pair. I have always had a weird interest in jellies! The men usually dress more "western." However, today, I saw men wearing white and black sheep's wool tunics and cowboy hats. It was a special ritual day so that might explain why more men were dressed up. Unfortunately, pictures are strictly prohibited in Chamula. I was able to snap a few shots of the church and the market but I was careful to not get any people. The kids of Chamula are getting smart about this picture business though. A little girl came up to me and said, "hi my name is veronica. if you want a picture with me, i charge 10 pesos." I really wanted to take her up on the offer! All the kids were adorable. I could feel myself switch into like emotional mother-mode. Lots of aahhhs and ohhs. But in some ways it was really sad because they are so trained to beg for money. Little boys, probably two and three years old, came up to us with their palms out asking for "un pesooo." One boy, a little older, said he needed money to buy a notebook. They are taught what the tourists want to hear. The guide told us that it is not a good idea to give them money. I was torn.

Going into the church was another culture shock experience. Although there are crosses and saints and bells...all the things we normally associate with Catholic churches, this church is not associated with the Vatican. There is no clergy. The people don't read from the Bible. Nobody celebrates first or second communions or weddings inside the church. Instead, what is practiced is a fascinating blend of catholic and ancient mayan rituals. When you walk in, all you see is candles. Then, you look down, and notice that there are pine needles all over the floor. There are no pews. People sit on the floor and intricately arrange different colors of candles. Our guide explained that the colors and arrangements have specific significances. People also bring in soda bottles and place them in front of the candles. No idea why they do this, but it makes for an interesting display. And it is a good reminder that coca cola has literally made it into every nook and cranny of the earth. No matter how "traditional" you think people are, they drink soda. Guaranteed! I later learned that some of the soda bottles were filled with an alcohol that the people drink and offer to the saints as a sacrifice. It was interesting to observe different groups of people (mostly women) pray and chant. There are no services in the church. Everyone worships in their own way. Some bring live chickens into the church and then sacrifice them to the gods. There is no blood. Just a quick twist of the neck! Other people come in with spiritual leaders to be healed. I saw some pretty cool rituals going on with herbal plants and eggs and corn. I have not the slightest idea what the healers were doing but I am sure there was a purpose to it all.

After the church, the guide took us to the house of a spiritual leader. This particular leader was in charge of protecting the spirit of St. Anthony. There was a huge shrine in the house but it was barely visible because the entire house was filled with a thick smoke. They burn pine resin to keep away the evil spirits. And again, the ground was covered in pine needles. The smell was overwhelming. I felt a little dazed and confused when I got up to leave!

Although the city attracts a lot of tourists (mostly curious gringos like myself!), it is not phony. The people do their own thing, with or without us. They are happy to let others observe their culture as long as they are respectful. And donations are always accepted!