Last Weeks in Mexico
Two relaxed bodies plunked side by side along the hushed ‘main street’ of Mazunte, surrounded by balmy night air and the yellow glow of a nearby street light… It’s me an my new friend Jorge indulging in one of my favourite Mazunte rituals… We sit, slumped next to the street, sipping a beer from the ‘tienda’ across the way while sharing stories and speculations about life and love and all the rest… Those first hours of evening darkness would tiptoe by, almost without notice while thick drops of condensation would roll down the side of our cool bevs. Waves of conversations periodically dawdle past us, breaking up the quietness of Mazunte’s main: splashes of Spanish from groups of local kids; murmurs of English from little squads of yoga junkies; ripples of German, French or Italian from dreadlocked and tattooed backpackers.
Mazunte felt like a surreal little hideout from the universe. We joked about the ‘Mazunte syndrome’ as we sat street-side sipping cervecas. I have to admit, I almost caught the syndrome myself. One week in that dozy little beach town next to warm ocean water and a relentless sun that refuses to let a single cloud get in it’s way… Mazunte makes people slow down. It makes people slow down so much that many often get stuck. It’s true. That’s the Mazunte syndrome. My only immunity was a fixed date at the end of February where I would meet a friend in Guatemala… I don’t know if Jorge ever got out. Its possible the syndrome got to him too…
With Guatemala nearing on my temporal horizon, I decided to make tracks after a little more than a week in slow motion. I packed up my bag and hopped in the back of truck headed to Pachutla. From there I slept for hours as the bus climbed 2200m through the blackness of the night into the highlands of Chiapas towards San Cristobal de las Casas.
San Cris is another magical city but its magic is far different than that of the coast. Thick, colourful, colonial walls line narrow streets that host a bustling mixture of local indigenous cultures, local and visiting Mexicans and lots of foreign travellers, volunteers and ex-pats. And the market - a massive maze food and artisan work that pours with colour and texture. Gorgeous.
But for me, the true magic of this little city came with the turn of a corner - literally. One afternoon out wandering, I turned the block and find myself looking straight into a very familiar face from the dance floor back in Vancouver. What a brilliant surprise! And with that, I was treated to a couple of days of very awesome company of a San Cris local.
What gorgeous timing and what gorgeous people those last couple weeks in Mexico brought me. Feeling incredibly lucky and grateful.
Now I’m in Guatemala - another breathtaking place. But I will save that for the next blog post…