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| Real de Guadalupe |
I walk down Calle Real de Guadalupe searching for a breakfast spot. I see that El Puente Language School has an all-organic restaurant serving breakfast. The prices are on the high end but the restaurant, located in a quiet courtyard, looks inviting. There are only about 6 or 7 persons there. I order, am served and begin to eat.
Meanwhile, a guitar player sets up in the courtyard. He begins to play and sing. I finish my meal, pay the check and head to the bathroom. I am in the hallway - on the way to the bathroom in the back – looking over the restaurant’s bulletin board.
Suddenly, at my side appears the guitar player. I am perplexed. He asks me in Spanish if I was going to give him a tip. I am still trying to comprehend the Spanish when he asks again. And then he asks me in English. He says it is the custom in the country to leave a tip. Musicians only earn money through tips. It isn’t begging, he explains it is the custom. Again, more emphatically he asks, am I going to leave him a tip?
Frankly, I am speechless. How did he know I wasn’t going to leave him a tip? I was on my way to the bathroom. I still had to come back through the restaurant to leave. Did he really think this was the way to make me leave a tip? Was he planning to accost everyone else in the restaurant if they didn’t leave a tip when they left? What if they didn’t leave enough of a tip? Would he hound them?
So, I don't respond to him. I continue back to the bathroom. Then, leave the restaurant. And no, I do not leave a tip.
* * *
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But the day gets better.
While Ross recuperates at our hotel, I wander up to the Templo de Guadalupe. From its hilltop location you get great morning views across the town.
Graham Greene also visited Templo Gaudalupe during his stay in San Cristóbal in 1938. Like us, he is in San Cristóbal during Semana Santa.
On Holy Thursday he writes, "In (Templo) Guadalupe...up on the roof between the bell towers under the white dome they were hanging Judas on a cross - a hideous figure in a straw sombrero with a paper face. (Judas) sagged greyly from the cross, a figure of unholy despair...a stout stuffed figure, in white trousers and a pink shirt, with a scarlet face; the straw legs dangled from the ledge under the cross and swayed a little in the breeze. 'Who is he?' I asked. Oh, he, they said, was the brother of Judas...Judas and his brother were propertly hanged."
Judas' brother? As we saw in San Juan Chamula and Zinacantán, San Cristóbal also apparently had its unique use of Judas. Judas was the bearer of all evil. But we saw no Judas (or his brother) hanging from any churches in the city during our stay. Too bad.
I then go out to the Museo a la Medicina Maya, located on Av. Salomon Gonzlaez Blanco just north of Templo Santo Domingo. Most of the guidebooks say you should take a taxi there because it is a little out of town. Not true. It is about a 15 minute walk from Santo Domingo but through a busy, unattractive part of town. It is where local business occurs. I pass fruit and vegetable markets, furniture makers and a row of barbershops.
The Museo is a small one-story structure. Its entrance is clearly marked off the main roadway.
The entrance fee is 20 pesos. In the first room I enter after paying my fee, the attendant suggests I should watch a 12-minute DVD first.
The DVD begins with the "pulse healer" who determines and cures what was wrong with you by taking your pulse. Okay. I'm fine with that. But the rest of the video is devoted to the "mid-wife". It is graphic. Too graphic for this early in the day; too graphic - for me - anytime during the day. The mother squats - with her back the mid-wife -and the baby appears to plop out of her tuchus. You then see the placenta - a bloody, omelet-like mass. A women talks about the placenta. Endlessly. You see it again. The image lingers on the screen. Then, in a ritualistic moment, they bury it. I want to leave this room. So I do. The video keeps playing. They are still probably talking about that damn placenta.
In the next rooms, I learn that a hummingbird's flesh cures rheumatism; a whole squirrel rids you of fright; and a black spider will calm down any inflammation of the testicles you may be experiencing. (Testicular inflammation must be a common occurrence here because it made it onto their top 10 list of curable ailments.) Somehow, I don't think this information will be useful - humorous, but not useful - when I return to the States.
There are only a handful of rooms comprising the museum. The displays are informative but simple.
Outside, in the rear yard of the museum, is a garden: some medicinal plants and trees are being cultivated. There is a small medicine shop where you can buy some of these indigenous cures in small bottles. (For the record: I saw no bottles crammed with a whole squirrel.)
I go back the main entrance to look at the gift shop at the entrance. I want to buy a poster or postcard of the Animals for Medicinal Use chart. But there is none for sale. And no, there is no DVD for sale about the mid-wife. Maybe you have to ask. They may only keep it behind the counter.
* * *
By early evening, Ross is feeling better and ready to eat. We dine at a tiny Italian restaurant on 84 Real de Guadalupe (one block east from where the walking portion ends): L'Arrabbiata. There are only three tables in th restaurant. The only item the Italian cook and owner serves is spaghetti. The pasta is delicious. Truly homemade. And only 35 pesos a plate. We just don't know how she is going to make it. Her restaurant is located next to an equally small Thai restaurant, several blocks up Real de Guadalupe. Try it.
The night ends with a bang - literally.
It is the Saturday night before Easter: the night of the Quema de Judas - the burning of Judas. They seem to love to hang, burn or mutilate Judas in Chiapas. Whatever...
Traditionally, effigies of Judas were burned at this ceremony. Now, puppet-like characters with political significance are torched. About a half dozen of these large, puppet-like figures are propped up in row in the plaza behind the Municipal Building. They have been stuffed by fireworks.
One by one, each is lit. Fire, smoke and sparks spray out into the plaza and into the crowd. Two ambulances were standing by. I guess that's supposed to be reassuring. It is funny, thrilling and scary. Just what the burning of Judas should be.
So, I don't respond to him. I continue back to the bathroom. Then, leave the restaurant. And no, I do not leave a tip.
* * *
.JPG) |
| Templo de Guadalupe |
.JPG)
While Ross recuperates at our hotel, I wander up to the Templo de Guadalupe. From its hilltop location you get great morning views across the town.
Graham Greene also visited Templo Gaudalupe during his stay in San Cristóbal in 1938. Like us, he is in San Cristóbal during Semana Santa.
On Holy Thursday he writes, "In (Templo) Guadalupe...up on the roof between the bell towers under the white dome they were hanging Judas on a cross - a hideous figure in a straw sombrero with a paper face. (Judas) sagged greyly from the cross, a figure of unholy despair...a stout stuffed figure, in white trousers and a pink shirt, with a scarlet face; the straw legs dangled from the ledge under the cross and swayed a little in the breeze. 'Who is he?' I asked. Oh, he, they said, was the brother of Judas...Judas and his brother were propertly hanged."
Judas' brother? As we saw in San Juan Chamula and Zinacantán, San Cristóbal also apparently had its unique use of Judas. Judas was the bearer of all evil. But we saw no Judas (or his brother) hanging from any churches in the city during our stay. Too bad.
I then go out to the Museo a la Medicina Maya, located on Av. Salomon Gonzlaez Blanco just north of Templo Santo Domingo. Most of the guidebooks say you should take a taxi there because it is a little out of town. Not true. It is about a 15 minute walk from Santo Domingo but through a busy, unattractive part of town. It is where local business occurs. I pass fruit and vegetable markets, furniture makers and a row of barbershops.
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| Entrance the museum |
The Museo is a small one-story structure. Its entrance is clearly marked off the main roadway.
The entrance fee is 20 pesos. In the first room I enter after paying my fee, the attendant suggests I should watch a 12-minute DVD first.
The DVD begins with the "pulse healer" who determines and cures what was wrong with you by taking your pulse. Okay. I'm fine with that. But the rest of the video is devoted to the "mid-wife". It is graphic. Too graphic for this early in the day; too graphic - for me - anytime during the day. The mother squats - with her back the mid-wife -and the baby appears to plop out of her tuchus. You then see the placenta - a bloody, omelet-like mass. A women talks about the placenta. Endlessly. You see it again. The image lingers on the screen. Then, in a ritualistic moment, they bury it. I want to leave this room. So I do. The video keeps playing. They are still probably talking about that damn placenta.
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| Mid-wife room in the Museo de Maya Medicina |
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| Cure Listing |
There are only a handful of rooms comprising the museum. The displays are informative but simple.
Outside, in the rear yard of the museum, is a garden: some medicinal plants and trees are being cultivated. There is a small medicine shop where you can buy some of these indigenous cures in small bottles. (For the record: I saw no bottles crammed with a whole squirrel.)
I go back the main entrance to look at the gift shop at the entrance. I want to buy a poster or postcard of the Animals for Medicinal Use chart. But there is none for sale. And no, there is no DVD for sale about the mid-wife. Maybe you have to ask. They may only keep it behind the counter.
* * *
By early evening, Ross is feeling better and ready to eat. We dine at a tiny Italian restaurant on 84 Real de Guadalupe (one block east from where the walking portion ends): L'Arrabbiata. There are only three tables in th restaurant. The only item the Italian cook and owner serves is spaghetti. The pasta is delicious. Truly homemade. And only 35 pesos a plate. We just don't know how she is going to make it. Her restaurant is located next to an equally small Thai restaurant, several blocks up Real de Guadalupe. Try it.
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| L'arrabbita |
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| Quema de Judas |
It is the Saturday night before Easter: the night of the Quema de Judas - the burning of Judas. They seem to love to hang, burn or mutilate Judas in Chiapas. Whatever...
Traditionally, effigies of Judas were burned at this ceremony. Now, puppet-like characters with political significance are torched. About a half dozen of these large, puppet-like figures are propped up in row in the plaza behind the Municipal Building. They have been stuffed by fireworks.
One by one, each is lit. Fire, smoke and sparks spray out into the plaza and into the crowd. Two ambulances were standing by. I guess that's supposed to be reassuring. It is funny, thrilling and scary. Just what the burning of Judas should be.
