Thoughts on Chiapas, August 2007
Memories are strange phenomena. As soon as I stepped out of the lobby of our hotel, Casavieja, in San Cristobal, my memories of the town from two summers ago came rushing to the forefront. The vibrant colors of the houses and the indigenous markets, the friendliness of the people, the laid back ambiance of the Zocolo and restaurants, and the incredible work ethic of the people were still just as I had remembered them. But this time I noticed other aspects of living in Mexico. It wasn't until yesterday that another memory helped me categorize my experience this summer. This one comes from my sixth grade geography text. There was a chapter on Mexico with a subtitle, "The Land of Contrast."
Now words like "abject poverty" and "empowerment" are pushing their way in beside "beauty" when I think of Mexico.
One day six of us took taxis to Crucero, a village outside of San Cristobal. We walked along a dirt road for about half an hour in the comfortable heat of the sun. This road symbolizes all that Mexico means for me at my present moment of awareness.
We first stopped at Rosita's. She was ill with a cold but had more serious medical issues which were requiring her to be hospitalized and treated with Western-style medicine. I can't imagine how she must feel to "go under the knife" in a hospital when the indigenous approach to curing illness is often a ceremony with candles, chanting, Coca Cola, and the sacrifice of a chicken. Her kitchen was typical with its smoky cooking stove and dirt floor. Her house made of wood had two tiny rooms. (Please don't idealize this wooden house and envision a rustic cabin. There were many gaps in the walls due to the eclectic pieces of wood. If you have ever built a house out of driftwood at the beach, you will have a closer idea to the building.) Then there was the latrine. Enough said. Yet she invited us in, offered us coffee, and engaged in conversation. Outside on the road, an elderly lady led a small herd of black sheep.
As we walked up the hill, there was new construction going on. These homes were much larger than Rosita's, about 500-600 square feet. And they were made of concrete blocks with floors. Carmen said that these belong to families who have sent husbands, brothers, sons to the US to work. Almost all people have cornfields or so it seems. One field by the road had not only corn but squash and beans growing together in a mutually satisfying symbiotic relationship.
We reached our destination after half an hour of walking. This house had mud/straw walls, a dirt floor and a television. The grandmother was chanting before many burning candles while the sacrificial chicken patiently awaited its role in the curing of the woman's sick husband. Attached to this house was a concrete structure where women in the sewing cooperative from that village meet to work and store their equipment. These women are on the cutting edge of becoming empowered, educated, and more self-sufficient. I could feel "hope" entwined in their sewing patterns, material, and machines. One of the women wanted us to come up to visit her house. We walked through a cornfield, and when we came to a clearing, were struck by the million dollar view of the jungles on the mountainside.
My Mexico memories have a picturesque aspect that rivals the glossiest of tourism photos. But poverty is equally a part of the country. Mexico is contrast. I feel so fortunate to be part of Mujeres de Maiz Opportunity Foundation. It has given me an opportunity to see the many facets of this complex country.
Linda Finch
Judith Pasco, our board chair and experienced guide, led a small group to Chiapas, Mexico this summer on a very exciting and interesting adventure. It was a rare chance to travel “off the beaten path” with a very knowledgeable leader and friend. Thank you, Judith for expanding my world.
In thinking about what experiences most interested me I would have to say they were ones that helped me learn more about the history, culture, and customs of the Tzotzil and Tzeltal speaking Maya, including the indigenous women of the cooperative our foundation works with, who inhabit the Highlands of Chiapas.
Visiting the over 2,000 year old Mayan ruins of Tonina, “place where time-honoring stone sculptures stand,” and learning from our guide about the culture of that place was a fascinating walk back to ancient times.
While learning to make paper at Taller Lenateros we were told about how the Mayan civilization was one of the earliest in the world to invent a form of writing. Mayan glyphs can still be seen on some of the ancient ruins. Only four ancient books have survived the ravages of time and war and the deliberate destruction by the Spanish invaders but they remind us of the advanced culture the Mayans had.
For 12,000 years the New World has known backstrap weaving. We were able to visit Tenejapa, a town famous for its weavers, and actually watch weavers at work. We also visited on a day of a festival celebration and saw a parade of important men of the town in their native dress. Pictures were not allowed and visitors were rare. I felt so thankful to be there to observe the celebration.
I loved our visit to a home in Zinacantan where we saw weaving crafts and watched while tortillas were cooked for us indoors over an open fire
In the town of Chamula we visited a church and observed how the people have combined elements of Catholicism with their ancient religion that uses shaman healers.
The opportunities I had to experience the culture of the local people of San Cristobal and the surrounding areas as a guest more than a tourist, were so enriching. I now have a better understanding of the world the women of the cooperative live in. Hopefully that will help me be a more useful board member as we work together with the cooperative as they face the inevitable transition they must make into the greater world that is approaching.
Pat Lang, secretary
Now words like "abject poverty" and "empowerment" are pushing their way in beside "beauty" when I think of Mexico.
One day six of us took taxis to Crucero, a village outside of San Cristobal. We walked along a dirt road for about half an hour in the comfortable heat of the sun. This road symbolizes all that Mexico means for me at my present moment of awareness.
We first stopped at Rosita's. She was ill with a cold but had more serious medical issues which were requiring her to be hospitalized and treated with Western-style medicine. I can't imagine how she must feel to "go under the knife" in a hospital when the indigenous approach to curing illness is often a ceremony with candles, chanting, Coca Cola, and the sacrifice of a chicken. Her kitchen was typical with its smoky cooking stove and dirt floor. Her house made of wood had two tiny rooms. (Please don't idealize this wooden house and envision a rustic cabin. There were many gaps in the walls due to the eclectic pieces of wood. If you have ever built a house out of driftwood at the beach, you will have a closer idea to the building.) Then there was the latrine. Enough said. Yet she invited us in, offered us coffee, and engaged in conversation. Outside on the road, an elderly lady led a small herd of black sheep.
As we walked up the hill, there was new construction going on. These homes were much larger than Rosita's, about 500-600 square feet. And they were made of concrete blocks with floors. Carmen said that these belong to families who have sent husbands, brothers, sons to the US to work. Almost all people have cornfields or so it seems. One field by the road had not only corn but squash and beans growing together in a mutually satisfying symbiotic relationship.
We reached our destination after half an hour of walking. This house had mud/straw walls, a dirt floor and a television. The grandmother was chanting before many burning candles while the sacrificial chicken patiently awaited its role in the curing of the woman's sick husband. Attached to this house was a concrete structure where women in the sewing cooperative from that village meet to work and store their equipment. These women are on the cutting edge of becoming empowered, educated, and more self-sufficient. I could feel "hope" entwined in their sewing patterns, material, and machines. One of the women wanted us to come up to visit her house. We walked through a cornfield, and when we came to a clearing, were struck by the million dollar view of the jungles on the mountainside.
My Mexico memories have a picturesque aspect that rivals the glossiest of tourism photos. But poverty is equally a part of the country. Mexico is contrast. I feel so fortunate to be part of Mujeres de Maiz Opportunity Foundation. It has given me an opportunity to see the many facets of this complex country.
Linda Finch
Judith Pasco, our board chair and experienced guide, led a small group to Chiapas, Mexico this summer on a very exciting and interesting adventure. It was a rare chance to travel “off the beaten path” with a very knowledgeable leader and friend. Thank you, Judith for expanding my world.
In thinking about what experiences most interested me I would have to say they were ones that helped me learn more about the history, culture, and customs of the Tzotzil and Tzeltal speaking Maya, including the indigenous women of the cooperative our foundation works with, who inhabit the Highlands of Chiapas.
Visiting the over 2,000 year old Mayan ruins of Tonina, “place where time-honoring stone sculptures stand,” and learning from our guide about the culture of that place was a fascinating walk back to ancient times.
While learning to make paper at Taller Lenateros we were told about how the Mayan civilization was one of the earliest in the world to invent a form of writing. Mayan glyphs can still be seen on some of the ancient ruins. Only four ancient books have survived the ravages of time and war and the deliberate destruction by the Spanish invaders but they remind us of the advanced culture the Mayans had.
For 12,000 years the New World has known backstrap weaving. We were able to visit Tenejapa, a town famous for its weavers, and actually watch weavers at work. We also visited on a day of a festival celebration and saw a parade of important men of the town in their native dress. Pictures were not allowed and visitors were rare. I felt so thankful to be there to observe the celebration.
I loved our visit to a home in Zinacantan where we saw weaving crafts and watched while tortillas were cooked for us indoors over an open fire
In the town of Chamula we visited a church and observed how the people have combined elements of Catholicism with their ancient religion that uses shaman healers.
The opportunities I had to experience the culture of the local people of San Cristobal and the surrounding areas as a guest more than a tourist, were so enriching. I now have a better understanding of the world the women of the cooperative live in. Hopefully that will help me be a more useful board member as we work together with the cooperative as they face the inevitable transition they must make into the greater world that is approaching.
Pat Lang, secretary
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