Mexico Easter 2003 - Part 8: Ria's birthday in San Cristobal

11 April - Ria’s birthday at San Cristobal de la Casas

This morning I woke up and realised how lavish this town really is. When everyone was setup ready to meet Mercedes (daily Indian lady with an umbrella) in the zocolo I was looking at the rooftops from our hotel roof where all our cooking stuff is - all those tiles look like they’re from the 18th century, there’s old church spires and towers all around, the morning is as fresh as a taco, and little bits of the surrounding mountain ranges of Huitepec and Tzontehuitze are making themselves known through the mists. I shall from this point refer to San Cristobal as “my town!“. That’s how much I dig this place - imagine that. Few things make me call them “my thing”, but this town has made it. My town is a colonial Mexican melting pot with Indians at the markets, mestizos and Mayans, adventurous backpackers and tourists who know a fine holiday when they see it - definitely my town. I remember the conversation again with the Texan at the immigration office in Merida, he said this was the “undiscovered ruby of Mexico” and “there’s no place on earth like it” - then, I scoffed, but now, I sortof believed him.

I didn’t go to an Indian reservation with Mercedes this morning, and neither did Bonnie or Helen as I wanted to have a relaxing day and dig town. I have to do my laundry - there’s no pants left.

We shall celebrate Ria’s birthday on the rooftop. The guys and gals are living up to a Chiapas tradition, we filled a stuffed bird with sweets and Ria has to kick and beat the crap out of this bird until the sweets come out. And Ria has to be blindfolded before she goes for it. Now I need a shower, so I’m outta here with Bonnie’s shampoo.

It’s now the end of the day.

I feel relaxed, like an elephant that has had turquoise waters across his big feet, skimming the sands and feeling the sand trickle away from in between giant toes. I “skimmed the sands” of the Indian market, with Helen and Bonnie, and found many good things I could potentially buy. I got me a pair of traditional shorts and a sleeveless Indian waistcoat. I spent the afternoon doing my laundry, picking my nose and feeling really fine. I had lunch with “my girls” at the restaurant by the square again - at Hotel Cuidad Real. There was hundreds of schoolkids in the square opposing Puebla Panama and explicitly raising the finger to Mr. Bush of the USA with placards. It wasn’t the best spot for two white ladies and a brown Asian-English guy to stand and watch. You never what could happen when Indians are thinking “bloody Americanos” in their mind.

We had a dinner of bangers and mash on the rooftop early in the evening. Ria beat up her stuffed bird, and then we headed off to some bars to kick the night off. The first place was mostly a teenagers joint selling drinks by the litre, so we stayed, had a real joke on table football for a few hours. At midnight, most headed home, but Tosh and I, being the hardcore animals that we were, headed to a bar along our hotel’s street called Las Velas. We had a few beers and watched the live band begin playing. Hands down, I was shocked at how good they were. It was an edgy, cutting edge band, heavily rock influenced. The leader singer looked like Moby, and their lyrics were (of course) Spanish with some English. We ended the night when we got tired and walked to a cheap food joint.

The hamburger we had at two in the morning (the whole place was still awake) was the MOST tasty burger I have ever had - this is the solemn truth! And it was 1 pound my money. Beat that, my haggard England!