Today I started the day the way I want to start all days, wake up and read for at least an hour. Right now I am reading Collapse a great little book so far by the guy who wrote guns germs and steal. He is basically talking about how societies collapse, a very interesting commentary especially because we are in the middle of the Mesoamerican cultures and ruins. The Mayan culture disappeared entirely and left behind great stone cities that can still be visited today (as we will do).
We went again to our breakfast spot overlooking the center of town: what a hustle and bustle of people. It’s great: all of the little shops around you can visit; the pastry shops, la zapataria, the pharmacies, and any number of other shops around town, up and down the small steep side streets.
I was literally the tallest person in a hundred mile radius and the second tallest was Colin.
Next we finished up the blog with some pictures of Tajin, what an amazing place, it is very spiritual.
We packed up our bikes and left town, only to realize a half hour later that we had driven in a circle and arrived back at our starting point. With a laugh and a sigh we turned around and headed back to El Chote to get lost on some back roads somewhere south of Papantla.
And get lost we did, turning this way and that, that road and this one. I got turned around not knowing where I was a dozen times and then I realized the greatest thing ever, it didn’t matter cause the only place that really matters is the place were I am right now.
Off on some dirt roads again, we love these days. We found some little road, through a little town, that didn’t look like a road at all, not on the map and neither was the town. The looked like a stream bed. We took that road to where it seemed to end and asked yet again which way to Tuziutlan. What are you saying Americano? Oh, just over there! A tiny dirt road that leads to a massive bridge! This thing was big and yellow and wide and went over a large river. On the other side was another dirt road, almost like the bridge didn’t exist. The town was having some sort of celebration and everyone was watching us as we passed through. We took this dirt road for the rest of the day.
Here is a side note: When traveling, try to get to the towns and roads that are not in the guide books. These places are where all of the real people live, work, sleep, love, go to school, and die. These are the people that don’t have any tourist attraction or natural wonder or clubs. Just good real world people doing real world things.
We eventually found a gas station, PEMEX (Petrol Mexico) of course, the federally owned petrol company that is a monopoly in the petrol business here. I believe Mexico is one of the countries (China being another) that is buying oil fields all over the world so that when the shit hits the fan, they’re in control.
I looked up at the hill above the station and asked the guy in broken Spanish if we could camp on the top of the hill/mountain. In broken English he responded yes. So we parked the bikes and went on our way trying to find the path to the top. We walked along the main road until we saw what we thought was the road we were supposed to take. A couple of old men waved at us and gestured a cross and pointed to a little side path. We were hesitant and started walking over not to be rude. This is when we met Alberto, a Mexican guy who spoke perfect English. He has been working as a cook in Chicago, and though he had just come down from the top of the mountain he showed us the way to the top.
It just so happened that on the day that we wanted to sleep on the top it happened to be December 12 or Guadalupe day, where the entire town went to the top of the mountain to pray and light candles.
This is a special moment for both of us, being the only Americans there in the town to see the true culture of the Mexican people. Many people were sitting on blankets having a picnic, the children were swinging on vines and laughing. The kids would just look at us as we greeted them with a “hola” or “Buenos dias” and then only after we passed them they would blurt out “hello” or “good afternoon!” and giggle.
Today I happened to be wearing my Che Guevara t-shirt and Alberto asked me about it, I remarked I didn’t know a whole lot about Che, but I did know that he was a revolutionary for the people. I remarked that from my experience in the USA the government is not for the people by the people anymore, but for the corporations and by the corporations. This is a problem for the people and the government is not allowing people to live to their full potential. He agreed and I said that we need to have a government by the people for the people of the people. He agreed.
We walked back down the mountain and back to the PEMEX a bit overwhelmed by what we had just experienced. Having decided against camping on the top of the hill, we asked if we could stay in a little grassy area away from the building, they said just wait till the boss comes. After about twenty minutes the cops showed up though they didn’t talk to us they made their presence be known. Senor Boss never showed up.
We rested, lying on our bikes, until some local kids came by that were amazed with our bikes. They then showed us through town, weaving through the truck traffic, to the hotel. For 320 pesos we have the nicest room in town. We made some food there in the room, as we have been doing quite a bit, of frijoles refritos con chipotle, arroz super extra, tortillas y queso. Es muy bueno y toto cuenta un poco dinero.
What a beautiful little town full of beautiful little people.
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