One of the fellows on our boat had a Che Guevara tattoo on his arm and when a helicopter flew overhead, the boat driver said, "Here comes Commander Marcos, the leader of the Zapatista revolution, to get us." So history is still on the mind of many here.
We passed crocodiles, herons, vultures, a religious grotto and moss growing from the cliffs in the shape of a Christmas tree.
Along the way we also passed a government organized river garbage pick up. I guess garbage is pitched or somehow ends up in the river at Tuxla and forced into crevices by the river's powerful current. Infrastructure here is still sketchy.
Tonight I'm tired. No reason really. Being here is a bit overwhelming. It's soooo quiet in Caledon and so not quiet here in Mexico. Sidewalks are often so narrow that you have to scoot onto the street to pass -- but the streets are full of cars racing along -- so that's tricky too.
We've been busy, too, with Spanish classes. Also I'm such a shutter bug -- everything is fascinating -- tile roof tops, different types of dress and visitors here from all over Europe -- hardly any from the States and we've met a couple of Canadians so far. Food is Mexican of course -- but tons of salads and lots of great little coffee shops.
We sometimes pinch ourselves as we pass guitarists, singers and drummers on the street -- the air suddenly full of action and sound. I don't know how we'll adapt to home!
No comments:
Post a Comment