You can't visit me and not make it to a zoo. Like I said in my first post about this zoo, I'm a sucker for zoos, and assume everyone else loves them as much as I do. Luckily, in addition to macaws and pumas, Zoomat has tarpirs (photo below) and anteaters, so it is impossible not to love this place.
Zoomat also has ice cream-filled fruit. They were out of pineapple. But even though the orange wasn't tropically refreshing as the pineapple was, it was still delicious. I will be on the look out this summer for someone to have them in Chicago. Fingers crossed!
We also went to the Sima de Las Cotorra (Green Parrot Sinkhole), about two hours by bus and taxi through true country rounds. The sinkhole is home to thousands of green parrots who fly in and out of the hole in mass every morning and evening. We missed the mass exodus, but we did hear the calls of hundreds birds echoing, and with our rented binoculars saw ancient paintings on the walls of the sinkhole. The trail along the opening is filled with my favorite cactus trees, flowers and plants, and at the bottom of the 140 meter hole is a small forest. Since this time we only looked from above, maybe next time I'll find a way to rappel...
In Chiapa de Corzo there is supposed to be a pre-hispanic archeological site with ruins from 900 AD. They proved to be elusive. None of the taxi drivers seemed to have heard of it. I asked a tour guide who was sharing tales of the oldest town in Chiapas to other tourists and he said it was nearly inaccessible to visitors. The guide was telling tourists about the fountain in the center of town built by a Dominican friar in the 1560s. The fountain is under a Moorish style arch, which is unique and interesting, but maybe not as great as the hype it was given on a couple guide sites. The guide suggested we visit another site that he estimated was less than a mile away, but while we walked in the direction he suggested we took a detour up a hill on a hunch that something was at the top. We passed by what looked like an artist's home (paints and canvas were outside the small brick home), and made it to the top of the steps. We stumbled upon a "rehabilitated church" called Templo de San Sebastian. So, although we missed out on seeing some Zoque history, we did get to explore a secluded roofless church with great views whose bricks still were charred from candles that must have lit the place week after week years before.
There is a small altar in front of the green benches (above) that I imagine are filled each week for service. The set up is outside the actual temple, but is still nice in its own right. The walk back to town was more like a hilly hike, with little shade. The neighborhoods reminded me of Tuxtla, where small homes stood adjacent to storefronts and the streets had just a tad too much garbage, but overall it was a nice town (especially with the hills and the views of the river). After our hike back to downtown I suggested Andrew try pozol (a "refreshing" beverage made with cocoa and corn meal). The locals swear by it, but I couldn't get over the texture. The taste isn't bad, but I prefer not to chew my drinks. A student once let me try Tascalate, which tastes like pozol, but is free of the corn meal bits.
So, we're almost to the end of Andrew's time in Chiapas. We spent his last day in San Cristobal. San Cristobal is always a refreshing change of climate from Tuxtla. And who doesn't adore the mountains? Unfortunately, he only got an abbreviated tour of San Cris, but I think I hit a lot of the highlights. We made it to both markets (the artisan and the fruit), but somehow struck out on our search for empanadas. We climbed the steps to Guadalupe's temple, took countless photos of the clever stencils, walked through the second oldest chapel (and glimpsed at a few of the creepy statues so popular in old churches here), and saw the church that Pope John Paul II visited in the 90s. By the way, in Mexico, Pope John Paul is called Juan Pablo. A slightly embarrassing revelation I made with my students when we were talking about influential people in the world and they mentioned Juan Pablo. They read my curious shoulder shrug correctly and offered a helpful explanation: "el papa."
After touring around town we grabbed a warm drink at the Revolution Cafe on one of my favorite streets in San Cristobal (it is limited to pedestrians and lined with shops and fabulous places to eat and drink). For the first time in a long while I bought bracelets from one of the young vendors, and Andrew got a miniature stuffed green worm with its tongue sticking out, and I got a small pink mouse. So after the rompope lattes, with out matching hoodies, we went to the restaurant recommended by the hostel host. I had the best mole sauce covering my cheese enchiladas and a fruity margarita, but the sweetness was quickly muted by the shot of mezcal we had toward the end of our meal. If you can, avoid mezal at all costs. You might was well just down rubbing alcohol. If you have ever seen my tequila face, picture that, but 10 times as scrunchy. From there we ended our night at an empty bar where we cozied up to a corner table. They played fun music, albeit the same song rotated through a couple times, and the owner was nice enough to send us over a couple drinks. It was the perfect last spot.
And that was it. Andrew was back to the USA the next day, and I was back to having solo adventures for a few weeks (until my dad came my last week there)...
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