TRAVERSE 61
was far from what we had imagined . Not that the beauty of the beaches with the palm trees that lapped the water was less than we ’ d thought , but the invasion of restaurants , deckchairs , and all sorts of comforts for tourists undermined the beauty of the place . We were still lucky to find ourselves out of season and taking an early morning or sunset walk at Playa Carrizalillo would remain one of the best memories of the trip .
We went up from the Pacific coast towards the cool plateaus covered in pine forests and jungles of Chiapas , a mythical land , marked by Spanish domination and by the Mayan people whose descendants claim their rights to the lands they have cultivated since ancient times . Their struggle continues to resonate in the shouts that punctuate the groups of natives who converged in the large square of San Cristobal , making us experience the protest of those who are still forced to survive with subsistence agriculture in villages without services and infrastructure . Despite this , many decided to stay in the land they had inhabited for millennia , carrying on their identity with pride .
To try to better understand their reality we went to San Lorenzo di Zinacantan whereby pure luck we happened upon the anniversary celebrating the saint who the city is named after . The streets were packed with people in some of the most decorated and colourful traditional clothing in all of Mexico . The motifs of the embroidery tells of snakes , frogs , butterflies , and the omnipresent flowers cultivated with skill by the Tzotzil and Tzeltal ethnic groups . The churches are adorned with geraniums and pine branches offered for propitiatory rites in a continuous mix between the Christian religion and ancestral traditions . Music triumphed everywhere and groups of dancers celebrated with popular dances under every stage . We found ourselves immersed in this universe of colours , sounds , and scents in a reality that represented the quintessence of our travelling .
We left Chiapas and its people behind us as we crossed the central massif for the last time to reach Palenque . In the archaeological site of the same name , we finally met the howler monkeys who scared us with their cries and the majestic parrots who circled in the lush vegetation . The Mayan temples and pelota playing fields were built without the aid of iron tools or animal-drawn carts , but they still stand majestically as a reminder of that distant civilization .
We tried to avoid the hordes of tourists by reaching Chichen Itzá with an unusual night alarm , the attempt was in vain but despite this ,
TRAVERSE 61