La vida loca

Queridos,
Life is passing rapidly here and I am mostly too busy living it or in places without email for replying all your nice emails. Sorry for that, in January I will make an effort!!!
For now I hope you all had a nice Christmas!!!!

I celebrated Xmas with 30 Degrees Celcius (no we are back at 17) in a small village called San Quentin. With a young doctor named Ignacio and the family of Juana (24 years old with 4 kids) and her husband Benjamin, the other doctor and his drugsdealing friends...
Breaking the piñata with the kids, learning how to prepare tamales, playing chess (thanks soooooooooo much Rafa for teaching me!!!), eating cocodrilo, listening Radio Insurgente and dancing with musica norteña..
I felt happy and Juana treated me as another member of the family. Proudly I walked trough the village with her baby in my arms... Some people asked whether it was my ¨chin tut querem¨, little child, although they kept interchanching looks between my fair hair and skin and Edgar Benjamins (2 months old), big brown eyes and brown skin.
Staying with a doctor was very interisting, learned a lot, saw a lot of the reality of the people there and their health and happiness.
Besides we visited the beautiful Laguna Miramar, where unfortunately Ignacio dropped my camara in the water... so no photos anymore nor the ones there I shot so far!!! Lets hope I can get some digital ones of friends at least of the places...
But ok to be honest, photos will be a poor medium anyhow to share what I live here with all the feelings that come with it.

Francisca, me and Elizabeth
Two Juanitas, but I guess one of the was given too much milk when little...

Juan and Elizabeth in their milpa
Armando (the veterinarian), Santiago (the young, very sympathic farmer we spent most time in with as he travelled with in November), Francisco and Querino in the workshop on cows´ health.

Fiesta de Virgen de Guadalupe

After feeling very tired and feeling a quite ¨suffocated¨(haha my english is for sure not improving these months) again yesterday I thought it better to check with the docter before leaving to La Selva. Luckily my lungs were ¨clean¨and travelling around is no problem. ¨Although ofcourse it would be recommendable to bring your private doctor¨, says Dr. Morales smilingly.
I was so happy with this news that I went to the market bought tuna (fruit of the cactus, very nice!) and colourful trousers for Lucia. Moreover I decided to forsake Doña Angelina´s food (the owner of our pension who cooks for us) and treat my self on a good vegetarian meal. Gave all my change to Javel, a Guatemalan street musician, thinking with love of two other street musicians in a far away country hearing their voices and guitars in my heart...

Later that evening I ran into Ignacio and we ended up playing table soccer (si, Stella Blue a footbalin is hard to find also here in Mexico, but they put them in the streets for the Fiesta!!) and drinking ponche together, the small hapinesses of life...

Aid

It is Sunday and the men, women and children of this little tzotzil village named San Hisidrio have gathered for their meetings, that take place after the church service. It is a small group, since also this village got split up over politics: it is one more village outside the area of Zapatista tourism, where international fundings did not arrive. This small group have sustained, but the others decided to see what the government has to offer... because what is the benefit of being Zapatista if you are just as poor as before?
The men whith their red robes sit on the benches, the women with their embroidered sjawls and the kids sit down on the ground, opposite to the men, but speaking up just as loud, if they want to voice their opinions. On one side of the benches there are some ¨cashlan¨, white people, seated: two americans and a couple of Mexicans from the city.
When the meeting is over, the children hit the ¨piñata¨ a ball made of clay with candies inside, a Christmas tradition. The american lady makes sure all kids get the same amount of candies.
While we sit on the side talking to a young farmer about the peach trees that have recently be planted and of which they hope to harvest organic peaches, in front of us a desk is set up with the American lady behind it. Big bags are opened and dolls and barbies are spread out on the table. The little girls are lined up, starting with the youngest one. All of them may choose a doll while the lady smiles at them. Some of the little ones start crying when she picks them up so that they have a better look at the table, but most of them smile happily although somewhat timid. The ritual is then repeated with the boys who receive cars or teddy bears and another time they line up to receive clothes.
Our young farmer tells how the technician that came to explain them about the peach trees will not return; they cannot pay his salary. It is a pity as they would like to learn how to prune them well, so that they give more fruits, that they would then be able to sell in San Cristobal. Our conversation stops as also the men are invited to line up to collect a sweater and a baseball cap.
The atmosphere is happy, the people smile. Jerry, the other american, presents himself to us, saying that he comes from Texas, retired from the US military and now drives around to places like this ¨where there is all I need: mountains and poor people to help¨.
When we remain alone, Carolina and I, look at each other, cautiously I ask: ¨So what do you think of uh.. this?¨
And with all our academic bagage about how development aid should be, we cannot help but feel a little repugnated towards the scene. ¨Do not give the fish, but teach them to fish for themselves¨... ¨was it not?

to be continued

Tzotziles

This weekend I had the opportunity to visit two Tzotzil villages (another indigenous group) close to San Cristobal, whose women and even the smallest girls dress in these beautiful traditional clothes, with colourful scarfs and woolen skirts. The women´s job is keeping sheep and weaving these clothes.
In San Juan Chamula, we visited a very special church. The Chamulas decided years ago to take over the church, throw out the priests and use the church as they feel suits. So all along the walls all the dolls of all the saints you can think of are collocated, with an incredible number of candles in front of them and neon lights around the virgin of Guadaloupe (the country´s patrona). There are no chairs, but pine needles all over the ground where the people sit down and do their own rituals (often for healing) in which they use candles, prayers and posh (alcoholic drink), Fanta and Pepsi Cola!! They throw some of it on the ground, and then drink the rest.
The church is decorated with big cloths hanging from the ceiling (and I cannot resist the typical Dutch thought: does no-one here think about fire safety?) and palm branches.
If you can stand the parafin smell and smoke for long enough you can observe whole families, including their chicken (!!), congregating in this odd spectacle.

Binti awilel??

Lek, lek kayon!! Maba chamelon...

Well, as you can read above I am fine and almost not ill anymore! Sure that it is the result of all the good energy you send me!!

Which means: I have been able to follow two intensive lessons in tseltal, a quite complicated Maya language I dare say...
But it seems somehow easier for me as a Dutch speaker than for the spanish speaking Mexicans, as they cannot make some of the sounds.
And: I will probably (cross my fingers) go to the communities in the forest again for a week coming Wednesday.
And: Yesterday I felt an incredible urge to go out and hear some live music, and watch the people and dance and feel alive
and thus went out for the first time in 5 weeks!!! (oh no sorry I forget about our dancing in the village party)
A sympathic reggea, ska, Manu Chua type band served very well ;-)
The good thing is that here in San Cristobal there are many foreigners and thus the people do not stare at me all the time.

Mala suerte

When you spend half of your time in Mexico being ill, you have bad luck
When you catch bronchitis on your first week in the ¨communidades¨ you have pretty bad luck
When you then have a very bad reaction on the antibiotica they give you, you have pretty pretty bad luck

As you may imagine, I feel pretty frustrated not being able to do the things I want to do, maybe not being able to return to the villages soon
not having the energy to follow my tseltal classes nor to walk in the milpas
I feel sick and homesick, as the only good place to be when you are ill seems your own bed
and i miss all of you guys!!

What an unlucky combination: such an inquisitive mind full of curiosity and impatience with a sensitive body, that needs care and a slow pace!
But that is me, and there are things far worse in this world!!!
So I read my mothers Sinterklaas poem which makes me cry
then chat to Pieter for the first time in a month which makes me laugh!!
and decide that the sun is beautiful
and so am I.

¨Worry never alter a thing, despair nothing
who knows what joy may lie round the corner¨

Thanks so much for all your emails and thoughts. I love you.