Buenas tardes amigos,

Today I am writing to you from Palenque, still Chiapas. The internet place has the slowest connection-memory every, which is much in line with the slowness of this place, but no complaints! Niamh had warned us on our first days that everything here takes its time, you would have to wait etc. Well, yeah, sometimes, but on the whole I really can´t complain. Everything worked out fine so far, in spite of our mad touring and tight timing. People here are so flexible and really try to make things work for you. It may be competition for the tourist´s money, but I honestly believe that there is a relaxedness and patience in the mentality here which is just so refreshing. In Palenque in particular everything is a bit slower, but that´s due to the climate. They say it´s fresquito here right now, that with tropical rainforest at 30-35 degrees C. at other times apparently it gets up to 45 degrees, so in a way, it is cool. Not for us of course. My wonder why anyone would live here was answered by a museum. The more temperate highlands were being overpopulated and couldn´t feed the people anymore, who mostly live on the basis of self subsistence. So they moved to the hotter lowland areas to the east, where maize can still be grown. This led to the destruction of up to 70 % of the original rain forest. Apparently, this has been stopped now, some rainforest is now protected, other has been recreated, a “selva secundaria” as they call it.

The rainforest is amazing. It is loud: like an electrical saw. I think it must be a type of cricket that creates this sound. Then you have the monkeys that howl all over the place, the flies that buzz and because everything is bigger, everything is also louder. The monkeys just make noise, they aren´t really big, but as it´s the male only that go about howling, there´s no surprise there now, is there? Little wonder these monkeys are called Howler Monkeys. Well, it´s great to see cheese plants in their natural habitat as well. I now know why they have long roots that grow out like tentacles. Here, they grow on trees, climbing up their stems. They feed on these big trees and you can see cheese plant leaves growing up to 50 and more metres. In fact, every tree here is host to a number of other vegetation – and animals. There are the biggest and most colourful butterflies, there are snakes, big and small, pavos (a big bird on a tree, no idea of its English or German name, it´s very beautiful though), chicken and strange turkeys all over the place. Also the coos are different, they look a bit odd here. The pigs are not pink but grey and furry. People live traditionally in huts made of palm leave and wood, which doesn´t totally protect from the rain but as you are going to be wet from sweat anyhow, that´s not a problem. A hammock is the most hygienic way of sleeping. But of course there are houses built from bricks too, just that they look very grey in comparison and I doubt that they really stay drier than the traditional cabañas. As you drive along the road, poblanos try to sell fruit – this is a place where you wear a hat in case an avocado drops on top of you! So there´s a vast supply of banana, avocado, papaya, melon and lots of fruit I´ve never seen before. All for a peso or two.

We went on an adventure tour to Bonampak, an old Maya settlement in the jungle with lots of original wall paintings, and Yaktchilán, a bigger settlement. By air, they are just 20 km apart, by surface it takes an hour`s drive and an hour´s boat trip. The jungle wasn´t as threatening as I expected, I didn´t even get bitten by the mosquitoes which may give you malaria. Uli did, and her bites are now impressive lumps… But the Palaqueños are very concerned to give her stuff to remedy this reaction, they are such kind people. The best part of this tour wasn´t the sites, Palenque is much more impressive, but the rainforest and particularly the boat trip. It´s beyond description, but I´ll try anyhow. The rainforest is pure beauty, it is amazing to think that the world might have looked just like this some time ago. There are so many different trees, all with medicinal qualities, there are big animals, and you just take them for granted there. I mean, I really didn´t feel threatened by the crocodiles that we passed by, although they were very close. But it was obvious they were just sunning themselves as we were, no danger there. And then, in the middle of this vastness of green and the noises of nature, you have these ancient settlements. People must have poured so much sweat over the building of these temples, houses, stales and pyramides. The culture they tell of through their stonemasonry and painting is such a different one that it is both fascinating and scary. There was autosacrifice, beheadings, a very strict hierarchy, but also the knowledge of astronomy, script and the most beautiful glyph writing I´ve ever seen. A strange, a high culture in the middle of almost uninhabitable surroundings.

But beyond that, we also met our driver, who, for a monthly salary of close to nothing and equalling what four people paid for this day trip, has to feed his family of 5, gets the van at 5 am, gets back at 7pm, then has to wash the car, do the accounts and sometimes even drive people to the airport 260 km away, every day, no holidays at all, just every 15 days one day off in the office. But he likes his job, meeting people, just that to him it is beyond imagination to ever travel as far as we do. It makes you feel guilty but also very lucky, to be able to afford this. Well, he made (one of) my adolescent dream come true: we stopped over on the other side of the river, i.e. in Guatemala! Whatever fascinated me about Guatemala as a youngster, I had always want to go there and that day we did - for a beer I didn't drink. Watched by smiling and jovial young militaries who also held not so friendly machine guns we set ashore on the south side of the river where the crocodiles have Guatemalan passports.

28th August 2003. The jet lag still hasn't kicked in so here's the update of our last days. I managed not to get bitten by any moskito in the malaria dangerzone, in spite of my horrendously lung irritating Autan spray letting me down in quantity. I was glad,the right excuse to use one of Uli's insect repellent creams, sticky but at least they let you breath and don't try to get rid of you in the process of scarring off the biting kind. We had another day in hot Palenque so we decided to have another look at the archaeological site. Thankfully, we discovered bits that had escaped us on our first visit. These areas were almost still overgrown by the rainforest, the only noise you hear is the chainsawing cricket's song and the buzz of unseen multitudes of flies. We had it all to ourselves, the spider webs proved that that day, we were the first of the few tourists to see these hidden treasures. It gave us an idea of how difficult it must have been for archaeologists to actually locate these sites. The jungle takes it back so soon and these cities had remained uninhabited for almost a millenium. The rest of the day was spent indulging in Mexican food and watching craftsmen do what they are good at, making pendants of the Mayan calender (the most precise and earliest calender ever besides our own, as accurate as our system is now, yet based on figures of 5 and 20 rather than 12 and 24). We took the night bus back to Puebla and bore witness to some remarkably heavy rainfall throughout the night. This is unusual, it normally only rains for an hour or two each day, and not normally at night.

Once back, Martina and Niamh fed us a good Mexican breakfast and off we went for a weekend in the world's largest city. To cut it short, we didn't see even a quarter of what we wanted. The city is not too busy, but huge. The distances and travel times make it almost impossible to plan anything at all. There are metro lines, buses, colectivos and taxis, and still. From the metro station (oddly copying the Parisian metro designs by the way), you need to walk up to 30 minutes to get to your destination. So in the end, we walked a bit through the centre on Saturday after having a look at a former surburb, now part of, Mexico which is really pretty and has a townlike flair about it. More markets, lots of museums we didn't feel like going to but kept in mind for a possible future visit (Trotzky, Frida Kahlo among the highlights). In genersal it was surprising to see the city relatively empty and quiet and people moving at a slower pace than they do in Glasgow. If not for the huge buildings, modern skyscrapers and neverending department stores interspersed with the noble restaurant and cafe chain Sonborns, this could have been a small town on a quiet Sunday, but it was Saturday night in Mexico City. Why the quietud? End of month, no money; end of school holidays, money spent on vaccations; children back home, no time to get out. Not that it was dead all over the place: Around the Zocalo, the main square, were streets and pavements full of your usual set of street sellers, taco makers, elote grillers, umbrella sellers, braceletiers, shoe shiners, gossippers, beggars, bicitaxis, cars, camiones, colectivos and what have you. Here, the average pedestrians has to take to the road because the street sellers leave no room for walking on the pavement, they are getting so close to their potential customer that those have to back off. The next day, yet another side of Mexico City. On the Turibus, yes, the open top double decker that comes with a sunburn guarantee for each gringo, we were excorted through lively and bursting parts of the city, through the hotel and bank district of big streets, buidlings and monuments, but also through the green lung of Mexcio, the eucalyptus scented city forest. Here, the otherwise rare species of the Jogger meet the much less rare Sunday family outingers. All enjoy the wooden park with various lakes, picknick areas and fun fairs, but most of all, the science museum for children is the main attraction, the museum where touching is not just allowed but encouraged. Everything here is to the size and perspective of the child and once again it becomes crystal clear that the Mexicans adore their children above anything else, which is maybe why there are so many of them there and why the "childless" gringo tourists are eyed so suspiciously.

We all went back happy and sunburned, and also came across a particularly exciting open air photographic exhibition of the Mexican geographical setup, flora, fauna, indigenous heritage and ingredients to world culture. We have to thank Mexico for the cocoa bean and chocolate, for vanilla, chewing gum, tequila to name but a few. Not too bad for a start, don't you think? If you're interested, check the exhibition out here: www.mexiconaturalezaviva.com (or .mx)

In Puebla the next morning, I had the interesting experience of walking on my own to the bus terminal to get a ticket for the airport. I kid you not, every other man stared at me and either made a comment, snarled or whistled at me and 80% took a good look at my boobs which embarrassed me enormously because after all there isn't much to look at and I don't think the pair of them got similar attention in the hole of the previous 32 years and a bit as they did in these 20 minutes. It was an utterly different experience to face the crowds on your own than with another female companion. The comments were no longer "hola güera" but below the line of decency. It made me angry, aggressive, but also I felt humiliated and like a piece of meat, or like a horse because the snarling was very similar to the noises you use with horses to draw their attention to you. It was also totally beyond me why they did that to me and not to the beautiful, attractive, sexy Mexican girls. I was more than glad when I got back at least physically untouched to Niamh's house.

Finally, our long journey back turned out to be even longer. On our bus ride to Mexico city the heavens opened and one of the lighenings placed itself just 5 meters away from the bus. The road was flooded and I was scarred, you could feel, hear, see, even smell the lightening hitting the ground. We got to the airport at 5.30pm., when the plane due to leave at 9pm was still not listed at 8.30, we got nervous and asked. The information guy just smiled and said that the airport had been closed for the past 5 hours. There had been no announcements, nothing! In the end, our flight was cancelled and we were moved to a luxury hotel in downtown Mexico where I could make an analytical study of the difference between the lower middle class hotels we'd been staying in for an average of 300 pesos a night per room (20 pounds) and this luxury room for 1200 pesos a night (which KLM paid of course). The main difference was that the quadrupling of the price allows you to dump toilet paper in the loo!!! (rather than in a basket beside the toilet, as is the rule in Mexico). On a less obvious level, it also had the additional benefit of a hairdrier, a cheap shoecleaning device and two different pieces of soap instead of one (shower gel is unknown in Mexico). That was it. Well, the breakfast was certainly not bad, but the staff were unable to deal with our sudden quantities descending on the hotel which meant that just as we were having a shower/were lying in bed (and with pyjamas in suitcases that were still at the airport), another two people were given our room and popped in. We all took it with humour.

But really, that was the only bit that went somehow wrong and wasn't too well organised. I definitely would want to ask Mexico City airport to invest in loudspeakers and announcements in Spanish AND intelligible (!) English as well as in luggage trolleys (although the human versions of those did a very good job for a good propina as they asked us, a good tip for carrying all our luggage) and decent monitors for arriving and departing flights, check in desks and gates, rather than selling all 50 odd types of Tequila at every corner. There is room for improvement: The existing staff has the patience of a turtoise and the sweetest smiles; how much nicer would it be for them if they didn't have to answer the same question 400 times?

Back here, everything looks a bit dull and grey, in spite of the sunshine. The brightness of Mexico is something special and I hope that it'll be in my mental picture for a good while longer. And I already miss the tooting of taxi drivers asking me if I'm really really sure I don't want a taxi after all. Taxi! Camotes! Elotes! Chapulines, quiere Chapulines! Qué le agrada? Qué le doy? Eeeellll Gaaaas! te tete tete tete te tete tete tete Eeeelll Gaaaas! tete teteteteteteee tete teteteteteteteee!

buenas, soy yo otra vez...

 today I´m still in Oaxaca but when I send this, it´ll be at least from Chiapas.

I felt after all those critical thoughts that Oaxaca deserves a bit of a praise. The chocolate is amazing. They make it with cinnamon and almendrado, somehting to do with almonds and it is divine. The chocolate factory is in the middle of the city, open to the street as everything, so the whole crossroad is full of chocolate smell, dragging you in, where you are welcomed by busy people getting freshly ground chocolate beans, staff offering a taste of all the produce, men grinding chocolate beans into sacks, a little bar where you can get a hot or cold chocolate drink... They don´t just make hot chocolate from the Oaxacan gold, chocolate beans, but also something called "mole", a sort of sauce, quite mild (at least the two varieties I¨ve tried so far) and very nice on chicken. I would love to bring some of it, but I´ve already bought a carpet from a weaver in a village nearby, a handmade scarf, skirt and plenty of pottery, the speciality of yet another village. Dona Rosa, the most famous grandma making this black pottery, has a big taller (workshop) with plenty of photos taken of her with the rich and famous of this world. The problem with these artesanias is that they are very affordable. so you buy and buy and buy. My rucksack is now definitely full, not leaving any space for mole or whatever else may take my fancy in Chiapas. I´m also grieved by not being able to buy any of the colourfully painted monster, animal and humanoid wooden figures that another village produces. But they are just too fragile (and that bit more expensive if you want to buy the really scary monster like me). Anyhow, so a small bag of chocolate must do, the mole, well I might try to reinvent it at some dinnerparty.

 I´ve also quite taken to Don Isabelo - as a rather drunk lady chatting to us at the reception desk baptised him - our last hotel owner. Such a friendly man, now a few German words richer, a real shame having to move on and leave the hotel. We have in fact decided to have a bit of luxury as far as hotels are concerned, one of the things that really are considerably cheaper than in Britain. And also it is good to have your own bathroom for the famous "turista", after eating "chapolines" (saltamontes, grasshoppers) and "topales" (one of the many forms the cactus comes in) and drinking too much of the lovely mezcal (a twice destilled fermented agave juice, similar to tequila, but it comes with a gusano, a worm in the bottle). I also took to a little boy on the market Benito Juarez, who was trying to sell bracelets. His smile was just irresistable so now I am the owner of a really horrific bracelet, which he finally sold me for 10 pesos (with a little help from his bigger sister and watched by his mom). Now I know the answer to my previous question, "who on earth buys all this rubbish?". It is also becoming fun now to bargain and it is reassuring that the market women know how low they will go, there are very clear limits and I´m sure they are still making a good deal. I´m also getting used to the constant hassling for selling or invitations to sit in restaurants, it doesn´t bother me as much any more. The male "hola guera" calls still make me want to try the impact of my punches though...

 As far as communication is concerned, I´m surprised at how easy it is to understand the Mexicans. They speak more slowly than Spaniards but the accent is very clear, not much different from central Spain. Then again, there are so many words that I´d never heard of before, either because the things don´t exist in Europe or because they use terms from the indigenous languages. Jitomate is a tomato, that´s okay, but almost every fruit has a different name than in Spanish which makes reading menues very hard. it doesn´t help if an English translation is provided because usually the problematic terms don´t come in English... After having eaten sal de gusano and chapolines though, I don´t think it can get any worse! 

 San Cristobal de las Casas, Monday, on a very annoying keyboard.

So this is Chiapas. Not easy to start. Well, we started by going to the capital Tuxtla by nightbus and then taking an early morning connection to see the Cañon sumidero, where the mucky tropical weather hit us yet again. The tour into the Canyon on the speedboat was fast and furious, but also breathtakingly beautiful. The cliffs go up from the quiet green waters of the dammed (not damned mind you) river for 1000 meters, straight that is. Trees grow due to the tropical climate wherever they can, sometimes a stone is enough for a palm to reach up to the sky. Where there are a few trees there are also monkeys (but I didn´t spot them because I didn´t know what I was looking for when the guide pointed them out, he definitely didn´t use "mono", the word I know for monkey). What I did see were crocodiles, lots of big birds diving for big fish I guess. I was terrified by the boat trip, don´t quite know why, but it was so fast and every bend drove me round selfsame. After two hours I felt burned, beaten by wind and so impressed with the nature that I was glad to get out again. we struggled back to the town of Chiapas de Corzo (from where the tour started) and its cathedral, and back to Tuxtla where we struggled further through the humid heat in the search of a restaurant with air conditioning. In vain. Well, we survived and took a late bus to San Cristobal, which took us up to 2.400 meters altitude in the lush green mountains which are populated by various Maya peoples. It was lashing down with rain on our ascent through the clouds, and I could only wonder how the huts and basic houses the people in the villages stay in can keep them away from the elements. Maybe they don´t.

 Our hotel in San Cristbal is called Palacio de Moctezuma and so it looks. Well, the rooms are basic enough, but the setting around patios of tropical vegetation is really lovely. The city is a jewel as well, all bright colours, very laid back and with even a stronger indigenous element than in Oaxaca. It is plain beautiful, much quieter (apart from the fireworks they use here for the saint´s feast of every parish which, lasting 3 days each, is close enough every day). Today, we took a tour with Mercedes to the Maya villages. Mercedes, a local, mostly indigenous but with one Spanish granny and one Black granny, introduced us to the very different religious practices of Chamula, where the Maya women wear grey skirts and blue blouses, the men a white poncho over their more western clothing. It is truly a different world. There is begging from the children for a peso or for having their photo taken for money. Women and children try to sell all kinds of crafts all the time, not giving you a smile, eyeing you very suspiciously. Whenever they approach you, they are subdued, almost whingeing, which I found very sad and also irritating. How do you react? Do you give money and play the role of the patronising gringo? Or do you say firmly no, which is not less patronising, as if telling a child off.

 Anyway, the church of Chamula is only used by the locals since 1950, before then, they used caves for curing ceremonies with shamans. Now they use the church for the same thing. The church is laid out with pine leaves to create a connection with nature and the ground. The alter has the local saint of the church, no image of Jesus nor a cross. The church is decorated with flowers and fruits, maize leaves and much more, the main walls are full of the images of the 20 saints of the community, all representing a former god-goddess of animationism (is that the word? animismo in Spanish). Each saint has a feast each year, lasting 3 days. Lots of partying! Each saint also has a guardian, a person from the town who cares for it, has an altar in their house, feeds the saint with candels, incense, holy water, music and flower decoration. In the church, cures are performed by the shamans, with the help of coloured candles, eggs, chicken, song, pulche (an alcoholic drink) and... coca cola. Yes. They believe that coca cola has healing qualities, that´s because the local coca cola company told them so. Before it was other juices. Coca cola is all over the place, so bizarre in a town where people walk barefoot, are self sufficient in agriculture, hardly have electricity. The images of the saints in the church all carry a mirror which serves to deflect the bad spirits-smoke that the impure person may bring in and may try to get rid of in order to get healthy again.

 These villages are also ruled separately from the normal Mexican administration. Rather than elections, the current office bearers (policemen, mayordomos, gobernante and another one which I forgot) select people for the duration of one year from all saints day on. The newly elected have to perform their office, but they are not paid. All they get is respect from the village afterwards. So they have to leave their fields to serve their village for the year, many being in debt afterwards. But it strikes every man at least once, some up to four times if they did a good job and moved up the ladder. Women are not allowed in political offices (which the zapatistas, who strongly support the idea of unpaid politicians, want to change). Mercedes, our guide, explained that we are seen with suspicion because we are so tall, have hair of different colours, and, above all, don´t have children, which to the Maya is a sign of disliking children, a feeling which is strange to them. But I still would like to know more of how the locals see us, why the children go wild with excitement if a silly tourist spills out her bag of sweets - they aren´t so poor as not to have sweets! Do they mock us maybe?

Mercedes herself had a great story to tell. She grew up in San Cristobal, at the age of 12, after finishing primary school, her mother didn¨t want her to continue school as soon enough she´d be married anyhow (she explained that it is normal for a woman to marry at the age of 14 or 15). She insisted and went on to secondary education - at night, because during the day she worked. She then went on to Mexico City, really struggling to survive, working as a maid eventually. Her employers took a liking to her and got her a better job, as a bilingual secretary, which gave her enough money to continue studying English. She then became a secondary school teacher for English in San Cristobal, fell in love at 27 married and had a son at 29, incredibly late for Mexican standards. The marriage, she said with a wink in her eye, was in interesting experience, not to be missed but very good once over - when her husband left her and the 18 month old child. She didn{t like teaching too much because the kids didn´t really want to learn (I can emphasise with that a lot) and tried teaching Spanish to foreigners, working in a tourist office occasionally as well. There she was once asked to interpret for a tour guide. Shocked by the amount of misinformation provided by the guide, she decided she could do it better and set up her own tour guiding business, with a colourful umbrella at 9 am, not to be missed by anyone! 20 years later, she´s in every guide book on Mexico, has managed to send her son to University and now to do a postgrad degree in Cuba, while making a living for herself, discovering and learning ever more, realising the common ideas of Maya beliefs and Buddhist ideas. She has kept her promise to her mother to find a way out for women in the restrictive Mexican society and her path isn´t over yet, she still wants to become a female Budda!

 OK, that was a very long one, but we did discover a very different world out here. Due to problems with buses (they are full) we will now travel even more, doing the huge Mayan site of Palenque together with the lakes and waterfalls of Agua Azul and Misol Há from here rather than from Palenque town. So it´s back to the jungle, with an even wilder trip to follow: Juxtichlán and Bonampak just off the Guatemalan border, in the middle of the jungle. We´ll have to go by bus for 4 hours, plus another hour by boat to get there, all of that through the jungle, with mosquitos and the danger of Malaria. I didn´t take my pills because I never thought we would make it this far...

Hi again,

 don´t worry, I won´t bother you with too many Mexico impressions, but impressed I am and want to share some thoughts with you.

 We have arrived in Oaxaca in the state of the same name, a good bit south of Mexico City, beyond two mountain ranges (and that means mountain ranges! The trip there gave me the bends, literally), i.e. fairly remote. All the 4 hour trip long we didn´t see much in the line of towns, but plenty of cactae (I was happy!) and slabs of stone fallen onto the new motorway. The bus driver seemed to know the location of those, which was reassuring.

 Oaxaca is not quite as lush as Puebla (sorry Pat, no deserts as far as we´ve travelled so far!) but much more indigenous. It is really quite surprising to me. I only expected archaeological sites, such as Monte Alban which we visited today, but the ethnic setup is 30 % indigenous here, though within that group, there are about 30 subgroups with different languages, traditions, looks. What links the indigenous groups is there relevant poverty compared to the mestizos and the few white people of Mexico. The poverty is definitely of a different qualtity than anything I´ve seen so far, but it also has to be said that things just work different in the whole of Mexico so that it is difficult to judge how bad this poverty is perceived by the locals. For instance, there is no system of recycling and the official government policy is that they believe Mexico to have a better recycling standard than most European countries because the poor go through bins and rubbish heaps and recycle it the old way: selling, working with it as raw material etc. In the streets here you only see indigenas, more women than men, even more young children, selling cheap crafts or foods to the tourists. Their clothes are an indication for their poverty and there is no way not to feel guilty. On the other hand, there isn´t much that one can do. Having read a bit about the society here, it appears that it is still a society where men absolutely rule. Aids is a real threat to particularly married women because there husbands visit prostitutes and have unprotected sex with men as a sport (not because they are homosexual, there´s even a specific category for this sexual behaviour which is the main breeding ground for AIDS in the whole of Latin America). It is also part of being valient if you can seduce as many women as possible. Men, in particular those of the lower classes(because those in the higher have enough money so it´s not a financial problem at least), tend to spend their own money on drink and prostitutes rather than the family so that it is left to the wife mother to provide for the family, sometimes this includes grandchildren. I have great respect for the women here, but also it is strange to me that they don´t attempt to change anything, in fact, display very conservative poliltical ideas. But that is me, a European with a European background speaking, so there is no place for me to judge anything.

 As much as the ancient cultures of this country are admired and considered to be an integral part of Mexican heritage and identity, today´s indigenous population is the poorest of the poor, and Mexico is poor to start with. Of course, there´s Coca Cola, Wallmart etc at every corner, Internet Cafes abound, but only a quick glance at the houses indicates that these are empty shells of successful capitalism, not more. in spite of derelict buildings that are sheds rather than homes, Mexico is very clean and the people pride themselves in keeping it so. If you look at commercials or even something as simple as and advertisement on the bus to get people to wear seatbelts, the person with the knowledge, the teacher, has blond hair and a European face (something that apart from the tourist I have not yet seen inMexico) while the person being told what to do looks mestizo or indigenous. I feel very bad about that because it is so patronising, and I must be regarded as one example of such patronising people, coming here and being the person begged for a peso by a family of 5 on the street, by a 5 year old waving me a taxi, by an old woman desperately trying to sell me a handstitched shirt. You can´t go anywhere, sit anywhere, without being approached and asked to buy something. It is annoying but I also know that these people depend on this as their trade and try not to get annoyed.

 But for something impressive: The town and temple of Monte Alban is truly grand: built on top of a hill, in the middle of three valleys, it is not just a feat of arquitecture in hostile surroundings but also evidence of a past that people here can truly be proud of. There are still many things unclear about this place, what its purpose was, why there are no religious ornaments etc. What is clear is that 30000 people lived on this hill, feeding off the rich nature around them, building fields into the steep hill, watching the stars to be ready for the rainy season. They developed medicine, astrological knowledge, a whole set of gods and much more. They also seemed to have done something not so nice to the people they captured: the genitals of soldiers of other tribes that were captured were mutilated and they further ridiculed them by displaying them naked on the marketplace. Big slabs of stone with carved images bear witness to this strange habbit. But there are more pleasant myths as well, mostly relating to the unity in difference which I found quite interesting. There is the serpent, one of the main motives in art and arquitecture, and it is a symbol of regeneration and a circular understanding of time.

 Another myth is that of the origin of the world. Out of one egg two twins were born, brother sun and sister moon, the opposing principles of the world, male-female, day-night, life-death, having one origin and being alike like twins. A bit like the ying and yang I guess. The museum that had all these interesting bits of information to offer is also the most pleasant place I´ve ever visited. It is open, i.e. no windows, the wind blows through it, cooling it and making the building very open to the surrounding landscape of hills and valleys, clouds and sky, and .... CACTAE!!! yes! there was a huge garden of cactae, imagine, that typical victorian type garden, a big walled garden, but instead of sweet peas, lilies, etc you have only cactae! Why am I saying only? There are so many types and shapes that they really are anything but boring. I¨m enthralled.

 OK, that´s really enough for your patience for today. We´ll stay here for another two days before heading to the indigenous heartland of Mexico and the birthplace of the Zapatista movement, the state of Chiapas. Hasta luego amigos!

Hola chicas y chicos,

 many greetings from sunny Mexico. No, I don't want to make you jealous, just tell you a bit about my adventures in this faraway place, while I'm struck with Moctezuma's revenge and may have to interrupt this any time for a visit to the ladies. Thank God my friend Niamh, where we are staying, has two of the kind (i.e. one is always free!). So no reason to be jealous as I feel pretty rough, but not too rough not two write a line or two.

 We are based in Puebla, which is home to the Volkswagen plant, which really shows when you have a look at the cars about. I haven't seen as many VWs ever in one place. Puebla is a rather big city, about 2 million people, and no high rise buildings. A bit disconcerting. Add to this American style road design and it is vast. But blessed with an ideal climate: sun everyday but due to its altitude of 2,200m it is never too hot, the heat is dry and very bearable (well, apart from the sunburn that even factor 20 can't prevent), and at night it cools off with a hefty thunderstorm, because, it is rainy season (most of the day however, you feel this term is a joke, because it is so sunny!).

Much different was our first excursion to Veracruz at the gulf of mexico. There it is not only hot, but also humid. I've never experienced a humidity like this before, not in Cologne, not in, well, wherever. The moment I arrived, I only thought of leaving. The beautiful beaches, pelicans, horses on the beach couldn't change my mind. I found out why the Gulf stream is able to warm up Scotland and Ireland - the water is unbelievably warm, being heated up year in and out. Ever stepped into the sea and waited in vain for that cooling feeling? Well, that must have been in Mexico's east coast. Veracruz is a typical seaside resort with high rise hotels, dirty and crowded beaches, night clubs etc, with the difference that it is mostly frequented by locals. I.e. you stick out when in your bikini like a torch at night. I feel very white here, and very tall. The kids stare and so do the guys, they usually accompany it with a guera, guera (meaning: female non-Mexican white foreigner). As if I didn't know.

 Nicer than Veracruz was our stopover in Orizaba, situated beyond the high plateau of Mexico City and Puebla at the foot of Mexico's highest Mountain, just short of 6000 meters, topped with a bit of snow and surrounded by the lushest vegetation I've ever seen. It is surprisingly green here, but Orizaba tops it: it is one of the three areas richest of flora and fauna of this planet. The mountains draw water, but it is also very warm throughout the year - perfect for anything that wants to grow.

 The trip on the motorway - we took the tolled route, excellent and quiet, yet expensive - was some experience too. At every toll station, people try to sell goods: sweets, coffee (grown in the next field), you name it. On route, cyclists and pedestrians alike use the hard shoulder (with cars speeding by at up to 100 miles per hour), buses stop to pick people up, women walk with their babies. Scary, but strangely, you get used to things very quickly. Driving in Mexico is an art in itself, but again, once you get used to it, it is actually not too bad. Ok, people don't use indicators or often use them without acting accordingly, but you know this is the case and it works.

 I was happy to spot lots of cactae as well, not in the desert like surrounding I expected them in, but they are as plentyfull as palm trees. Free range cactae, fascinating, not in pots or winter gardens, just there, grown as tall as trees. Eagles there are too, and kolibries and butterflies! like a collection in a box come alive. I think there are also quite a few mosquitos, judging by my itchy red spots, but I haven't seen them yet.

 Today we went on a trip to the neighbouring city of Cholula, the ancient capital of this state before Cortes burned it down, killed 6000 of its population and erected Puebla instead. It's the oldest American city, dating from 500 before Chr. It also has, of course, an Atztek pyramide, which has the largest base of any pyramide on earth. It was built in three stages, one pyramide on top of another on top of another, by three different native American cultures. In fact, the city's location in the centre of MExico meant that many cultures passed through, some staying for a while, some moving on, so that it is influenced by many styles. Now, with the chruch dedicated to the patron virgin of the area built on top of the pyramide's exit, it is a colonial city, all in white and orange, pretty to look at and still ostensibly indigenous.

 So far, thanks to Niamh and her housemate Martina's insider knowledge, we have also found a path through the labyrinth of Mexican food. it all has such different names to your local Mexican restaurant and changes a lot from town to town. I just love all of it, and I'm very glad that my vegetarianism doesn't include chicken and fish, because there just isn't much apart from meat. The food is very spicy, with maize, beans, meat, chilli and tropical fruit being the staple ingredients. If you don't like those, well, it's a hard life, but if you do, this is heaven. In Oaxaca, our destination for tomorrow if I can travel, they eat grasshoppers too, the ones that feed on crops of maize, beans and chilli - our guide explains out of revenge for their destruction when they strike.

 The Mexicans are really friendly, nice and helpful people, no exceptions so far. If you ignore the macho reaction at my female white skin (which is easy, really, I'm not being hassled at all), it is very easy to get about, find out about things etc. The only problem is that the street sellers get very excited as soon as you look at their goods - sometimes I would just like to see what they have without having to disappoint them in the end that I don't actually want to buy anything. Very often, the street sellers of one place sell exactly the same goods again and again. I wonder how they sell anything at all like that, but yesterday, one offering sweets, gemelos, got lucky: Martina and I bought one each and are now taking turns at the toilet. Ah well. It's all worth it though!

 Ok, no more for now, although there's much more to tell. maybe soon.