chris.bracken.jp

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     <title>Mexico on Chris Bracken</title>
     <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/tags/mexico/</link>
     <description>Recent content in Mexico on Chris Bracken</description>
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     <item>
       <title>Chetumal, Quintana Roo, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2002/04/chetumal-quintana-roo-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Thu, 04 Apr 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2002/04/chetumal-quintana-roo-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;As we stepped off the Cubana Ilyushin Il-62 plane at the Cancun airport, I
 literally kissed the ground in happiness. The airport was crowded with people
 snacking on good Mexican food and the sound of shouting and laughter filled the
 air. After all the episodes of trouble, dengue fever, and trying to figure out
 what the hell was actually going on, it was easy to lose sight of just how
 great a country México is, and after Cuba, coming back to México felt like
 coming home.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;After arrival, the first challenge is getting from the airport to the Cancún
 bus depot. The shuttle bus drivers&amp;rsquo; union has a strangle-hold on travel from
 the airport in Cancun. They charge 75 pesos per person one-way from the airport
 via the major hotels along La Zona Hotelera to the station. If you happen to be
 living on a wage of 50 pesos an hour, this is practically highway robbery.
 However, it turns out that the shuttle bus drivers only have a monopoly on
 travel from the airport; travel to the airport remains entirely unrestricted.
 Those who take a few minutes to sit and relax out front of the airport for a
 few minutes will notice that there is a clever way around this racket.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Following the example of the locals, we hauled our backpacks across the parking
 lot, headed out the gates of the airport, and started down the highway in 36
 degree heat. Within moments a taxi skidded to a stop, and the driver, nervously
 glancing out the rear window, motioned to us to get in.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;We didn&amp;rsquo;t. Instead, we stood at the window asking &amp;ldquo;cuanto cuesta?&amp;rdquo;, to which he
 shouted &amp;ldquo;no importa! vamos amigos!&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Still we didn&amp;rsquo;t get in. &amp;ldquo;We&amp;rsquo;ll pay 50 pesos&amp;hellip; for the two of us.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Looking insulted, he replied &amp;ldquo;Are you crazy?! I won&amp;rsquo;t do it for less than 70
 pesos each!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Glancing back toward the airport we told him &amp;ldquo;That&amp;rsquo;s ridiculous, the bus is 75
 pesos, and besides we don&amp;rsquo;t have that kind of money. We live in Merida; we&amp;rsquo;re
 not rich turistas norteamericanos.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;A shuttle bus flew by honking its horn while the driver shook his fist at the
 taxista.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Bueno! 110 pesos para los dos! Vamos!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;At 110 pesos, we were still overpaying by Mérida standards, but given that we
 were a 16km walk in scorching heat from the city, I was pretty sure we weren&amp;rsquo;t
 going to get much of a better deal.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;At the bus depot, we bought tickets for Chetumal, 5 hours to the south, then
 made a dive for the nearest yucatecan restaurant. After weeks of oil-drum
 pizzas and roast ham &amp;amp; cheese sandwiches in Cuba, I savoured every last bite of
 my poc-chuc. We finished our horchata, then climbed into the bus for the trip
 to Chetumal.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Confined by the jungle to the southeast corner of Quintana Roo state, and
 squashed between the sea and the Belizean border, Chetumal is the last outpost
 of civilisation before crossing into the jungle to the south. Until the end of
 the 1970s, like much of pre-Cancun Quintana Roo, it was essentially a free zone
 in relatively lawless territory. Trade with British Honduras (now Belize) was
 the foundation of the local economy, and earned it the title of the territory
 (now state) capital. The historical importance of trade gives the city a
 distinct feel from colonial Merida. You can still spot the occasional
 wood-frame house, and the city has a relatively modern atmosphere.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Previously named &lt;em&gt;Chactemal&lt;/em&gt;, the city had served as a Mayan capital since
 pre-Columbian times. The first Spanish missionaries arrived the 16th century,
 and the Conquistadors followed soon after. By 1544, the city had fallen to the
 Spaniards and the remaining Maya fled into Belize, leaving the city all but
 abandoned for the next two centuries.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;At the turn of the 20th century in 1898, Porfirio Diaz, then President of
 Mexico, ordered the establishment of a port at the mouth of the Rio Hondo in
 order to quell the flow of arms across the Belizean border and into the hands
 of the Maya. To this end, the city of Payo Obispo was founded by Othon Blanco
 with the help of Mexicans from the surrounding areas. The economy developed
 quickly and the city grew into the territorial capital by 1915. In 1936, the
 city renamed itself to Chetumal, which it remains to this day.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;All along the waterfront of Chetumal is a gorgeous walkway. Unlike the
 shimmering blue waters of the north-eastern coast of the Yucatan, the water
 here was more reminiscent of the murky green ocean back home on Vancouver
 Island. The locals are adamant that the water is horrifically ugly, but I
 suppose when your bases for comparison are Playa del Carmen, Cozumel and
 Cancun, that you can afford to be picky.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;After sunset, as we wandered through the town, snacking on fresh tamales, we
 were stopped by a couple of old men sitting in chairs on the sidewalk in front
 of a saddle shop. They stopped us to ask where we were from and what brought us
 to Chetumal. We explained we were taking a trip to see Guatemala and part of
 Honduras before returning back to México.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Why do you want to go to Guatemala? It&amp;rsquo;s a dangerous. It&amp;rsquo;s poor. They have
 nothing. Pickpockets are everywhere, and the people have no dignity left. Life
 is cheap in Guatemala, they&amp;rsquo;ve been surrounded by civil war and death for 30
 years. It&amp;rsquo;s a beautiful country with a terrible history.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;That night, we checked into an 80 peso hotel. The employees were huddled around
 the television furiously debating México&amp;rsquo;s loss to the USA in fútbol.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;The giants defeated us midgets! Look at the size of their players. And the
 Americans don&amp;rsquo;t even care about fútbol! Can you believe this?! This is an
 insult!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;We tried to console them by mentioning that Mexico would be guarateed to put
 Canada to shame. It was the best we could manage. It didn&amp;rsquo;t help much.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;They shut off the game, and we got to sleep early. Just after the stroke of
 midnight I woke up and, in a final farewell to the bugs I had picked up in
 Cuba, I threw up (in order) the dinner tamale, followed by the entire plate of
 celebratory Poc Chuc I had eaten that afternoon. I felt surprisingly better,
 and fell sound asleep excited about the next day&amp;rsquo;s 12 hour trip down a narrow
 dirt track road through the jungles of Belize and into northern Guatemala.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>¡Feliz Navidad!</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2002/01/feliz-navidad/</link>
       <pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2002/01/feliz-navidad/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Took a two week trip through southern México for Christmas. Starting in Mérida,
 southwest into Campeche, Tabasco, Veracruz and then Chiapas. Stopped to visit
 the Mayan ruins at Palenque, followed by some of the villages around San
 Cristóbal de las Casas. From there, it was northeast back onto the Yucatán
 peninsula, to Tulúm, then onwards north again to spend Christmas swimming in the
 Caribbean on Isla Mujeres in 30 degree weather. After a few days, it was
 westward again to Chichen Itzá and Valladolid before finally returning home to
 Mérida.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Valladolid, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/valladolid-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Thu, 27 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/valladolid-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;In 1543, Francisco de Montejo (the nephew of Mérida’s famous Francisco de
 Montejo) descended on the ceremonial centre of the Zací (Hawk) Maya, waging war
 on the &lt;em&gt;Cupules&lt;/em&gt;, a group of Maya that hadn’t taken kindly to the Spanish
 conquistadors. When the battle was done and the town had been razed, he renamed
 it Valladolid in honour of the Spanish city of the same name. Today, Valladolid
 is one of the most beautiful colonial cities in the Yucatán, with a mix of
 Spanish and Maya influences. Maya from local pueblas and from the city sell
 traditional &lt;em&gt;huipiles&lt;/em&gt; near the plaza downtown. The city is still roughly
 centered on the &lt;em&gt;Cenote Zací&lt;/em&gt; that was the ceremonial centre of the original
 Mayan settlement.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-27-cenote.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;View of Cenote Zací. Stalactites and vines hang from above. A few swimmers can be seen near the edge of the pool. A path leads upwards through the trees.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The cenote is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. To get to it, you hike
 down a passage into a cavern, then wind your way down the side to get to water
 level. The water is a deep turquoise colour, and is absolutely crystal clear.
 In the shallow areas, you can easily see fallen stalactites lying 30 metres
 below on the bottom. In the deep parts, you won’t see the bottom—it’s more than
 100 metres deep. The same little blind fish that are present in the cenote at
 Dzibilchaltún will nibble your toes in this cenote as well.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Above the cenote is a little zoo with spider monkeys, who spend most of their
 afternoon playing with toys, and getting fed potato chips by laughing groups of
 kids. What was more interesting, however, was that they had a raccoon in the
 zoo. You don’t see them in México at all, and most people we asked didn’t know
 what the Spanish word for it was, until an old man we ran into told us it was
 &lt;em&gt;mapache&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The main plaza of the city is gorgeous. With ornate lamp posts, hanging baskets
 full of flowers, and beautiful hedges, it was the Yucatán’s answer to Victoria.
 The streets downtown are kept immaculately clean by a crew of street cleaners
 who run through the streets every morning at 5 am. The government of Spain has
 apparently deemed Valladolid to be one of the most Spanish cities in the
 Americas, and donates money to help in its preservation.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-27-cenote-top.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;View from above, looking down into Cenote Zací. Vines hang down to the water from above. A stone staircase leads up from the dark blue-green waters. A few scattered fallen leaves litter the surface of the water.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;Probably the most exciting thing that happened while we were there was the
 rain. We had gone off in search of what is supposed to be an absolutely amazing
 cathedral and graveyard somewhere in the southwestern part of the city. In
 typical Mexican fashion, everyone we talked to was able to tell us in
 approximately what direction it was, so we were able to slowly make our way
 there stumbling randomly from one Vallisoletana to the next. We never did find
 it, but not for any lack of determination, but because it started to rain. Now,
 when I say rain, I don’t mean the rain we get in Victoria. I don’t even mean
 Vancouver rain. To fully appreciate a Yucatecan rain storm, you really need to
 experience one. Imagine the streets filling with water, then overflowing onto
 the sidewalks until the whole city is two feet deep in rainwater. We did the
 only thing we could do: jump into a corner store. The guys in the store reacted
 the same way any other Mexicans all over the country would react: toss over a
 couple chairs and invite us in to watch some TV. We bought some cookies and
 juice and sat for 45 minutes or so, watching the water level in the street
 outside rise closer and closer to the edge of the door before we finally
 decided that we were going to make a break for it, only stopping once for a
 slice of cheesecake in a bakery along the way back to the hotel.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Valladolid is also famous for the cenote at Dzitnup, about 10 km out of town.
 While we never did make it there, we heard some amazing stories about it from
 Nick, an Irishman from Cork we met in San Cristóbal de las Casas. What is so
 incredible about it is that it’s at the bottom of a dark cavern, with a small
 opening in the roof. At the right time of day, the sun shines through this
 opening and into the turquoise waters of the cenote, making it apear as though
 you’re bathing in light. The actual name of the cenote is &lt;em&gt;Kiken&lt;/em&gt; which is
 Yucatec Maya for &amp;lsquo;pig,&amp;rsquo; because the cenote was originally discovered by a farmer
 whose his pig had fallen in through the hole in the roof.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Valladolid is also famous for its uprisings. What transpired in Valladolid in
 June of 1910 helped to spark the Mexican Revolution that erupted in the rest of
 the country that November when Francisco Madero flew across the border into
 Piedras Negras, Coahuila. The revolution wasn’t over until 1920; but as they
 say, the opening chapters were written in blood, here in Valladolid.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-27-truck.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;The rusted carcass of a truck parked on the side of the street. Painted across the front: Duele mas andar a pie (it hurts more to walk). On the bent and twisted remains of the bumper: Asi como me vez te veras (one day, you&amp;#39;ll look like this too).&#34;&gt;&lt;figcaption&gt;
       &lt;h4&gt;&amp;#39;It hurts more to walk&amp;#39;&lt;/h4&gt;
     &lt;/figcaption&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;Unhappy with Spanish control of a land they considered their own, a small band
 of revolutionaries had worked together for months, planning the overthrow of
 governor Moñoz Aristegui. On the night of June 3rd, 1910, all those committed
 to the plan met in the Plaza de la Santa Lucia at midnight. Under the command
 of Ruz Ponce and José Kantún, one group stormed the police quarter, killing the
 guard outside and taking everyone else prisoner. Another group, led by Claudio
 Alconcer and Atilano Albertos took the office of the Mexican Guard, killing the
 Sergeant of the Guard, Facundo Gil. The governor, Felipe de Regil, asleep in
 bed at the time, woke up to the sound of gunfire outside in the streets. He
 immediately jumped out of bed and, a gun in each hand, ran into the street
 firing on the revolutionaries. He fought bravely until the end, when he was
 finally killed and left lying in the street.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;At this point, there was no turning back for the insurgents. They now had the
 support of nearly the entire city, and within three days had amassed an army of
 no less than 1500 men, armed with guns and machetes. Most had no military
 training. Local landowners provided weapons, ammunition and food.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;In Mérida, this uprising had not gone unnoticed. While the locals were
 preparing in Valladolid, the government had sent a column of 65 men eastward
 with 300 guns, recruiting villagers along the way. Under the command of Colonel
 Ignacio Lara, they marched easward to Tinum, 12 km outside of Valladolid, where
 they waited for reinforcements to arrive. The cannons of Morelos arrived in
 Valladolid on the 7th. On the 8th, Lara led his men to the outskirts of the
 city, where, at dawn on the 9th of June, they began the assault on Valladolid.
 A batallion of 600 federal troops arrived on the 10th. Poorly equiped,
 untrained, and out of ammunition, the rebels fell under the three ferocious
 onslaughts. The death tolls were high on both sides: more than 100
 revolutionaries and over 30 government soldiers had been killed. This was the
 highest balance of deaths of any battle ever fought in México, and would remain
 so until the Revolution began that November.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The leaders of the revolt were eventually rounded up, tried and sentenced to
 death. In the courtyard of the Shrine of San Roque, Kantún, Albertos, and
 Bonilla faced the firing squad. That November, Francisco Madero launched the
 Mexican Revolution, and by the following April, 17000 people had taken up arms
 against Porfirio Diaz and his government. The rest is &lt;a href=&#34;http://history.acusd.edu/gen/projects/border/page01.html&#34;&gt;history&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Chichen Itzá, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/chichen-itza-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Wed, 26 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/chichen-itza-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Somewhere on the old highway between Cancún and Mérida lies Chichen Itzá. The
 ruins at this site cover over 15 square kilometres, with &lt;em&gt;El Castillo&lt;/em&gt; alone
 taking up 0.4 hectares. At 83 metres in length, the Ball Court is the largest
 in Meso-America. The close proximity of the ruins to Cancún and the size of
 some of the structures have made these the most famous Mayan ruins in the
 country.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-26-el-castillo.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;A view from the ground below the El Castillo pyramid at Chichen Itzá. Visitors climb the steep staircase leading up the centre of the face of the pyramid. A few people stand silhouetted at the top, looking down on the surrouding jungle.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The image that most people associate with Chichen Itzá is &lt;em&gt;El Castillo&lt;/em&gt;. The
 pyramid rises more than 23 metres above the ground, with steep staircases up
 all four sides, leading to a small building at the top. What’s so spectacular
 about it is the fact that this pyramid is actually a huge Mayan calendar built
 of stone.  The four staircases leading to the top have 91 steps each, which
 when added to the platform at the top, make 365. On the sides are 52 panels
 representing the 52 years of the traditional Mayan calendar round. The pyramid
 is composed of nine terraced platforms on either side of the two primary
 staircases, for a total of 18, the number of months in the Mayan calendar. If
 you’re still not convinced of the Mayans’ astronomical prowess, you can easily
 convince yourself by visiting on either the spring or the fall equinox when, as
 the sun rises over the jungle, the form of a giant serpent is projected onto
 the sides of the two primary staircases, each of which has a giant stone
 serpent head at its base. This illusion is created by the precise alignment of
 the terraces in relation to position of the sun.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;In a corner in the shade of one of the giant staircases leading up the side of
 El Castillo is a door. Once or twice a day, the door is opened, and groups of
 20 or so are allowed inside. A narrow passage leads to a steep staircase that
 runs up the side of another pyramid inside El Castillo. It’s narrow, cramped,
 hot and humid, not to mention dark, but the climb is worth it. Eventually, at
 the top of the staircase, if you’re lucky or pushy enough, you can catch a
 glimpse of a jewel-encrusted jaguar altar, used by the Maya for sacrifices.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-26-ball-court.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;The ball court at Chichen Itzá. Large, perfectly flat stone walls rise above the grass. Two stone hoops protrude, one from each wall, facing sideways. A crowd of people stands at the far end of the court.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The Ball Court is another feat of engineering. The walls are each approximately
 8 metres high, with structures at the top for viewing the game. At either end
 of the court is an elaborate stone temple. But what is so amazing about the
 Ball Court is its acoustics. A whisper at one end can be clearly heard at the
 other end, 135 metres away. In fact, the sound reflection at the centre of the
 court is so incredible, you can hear at least nine echos if you clap or shout.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The following excerpt, by one of the supervising archaeologists restoring the
 ruins, describes the acoustics:&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;blockquote&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Chi cheen Itsa’s famous &amp;lsquo;Ball-court&amp;rsquo; or Temple of the Maize cult offers the
 visitor besides its mystery and impressive architecture, its marvellous
 acoustics If a person standing under either ring claps his hands or yells, the
 sound produced will be repeated several times gradually losing its volume, A
 single revolver shot seems machine-gun fire. The sound waves travel with equal
 force to East or West, day or night. disregarding the wind’s direction. Anyone
 speaking in a normal voice from the &amp;lsquo;Forum&amp;rsquo; can be clearly heard in the &amp;lsquo;Sacred
 Tribune&amp;rsquo; five hundred feet away or vice-versa. If a short sentence, for
 example, &amp;lsquo;Do you hear me?&amp;rsquo; is pronounced it will be repeated word by word&amp;hellip;
 Parties from one extreme to the other can hold a conversation without raising
 their voices.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;This transmission of sound, as yet unexplained, has been discussed by
 architects and archaeologists &amp;hellip; Most of them used to consider it as fanciful
 due to the ruined conditions of the structure but, on the contrary, we who have
 engaged in its reconstruction know well that the sound volume, instead of
 disappearing, has become stronger and clearer&amp;hellip; Undoubtedly we must consider
 this feat of acoustics as another noteworthy achievement of engineering
 realized millenniums ago by the Maya technicians.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;—Chi Cheen Itza by Manuel Cirerol Sansores, 1947&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;/blockquote&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Aside from the Ball Court and &lt;em&gt;El Castillo&lt;/em&gt;, there are dozens of other sites of
 interest. There are no less than three cenotes around the site, one of which
 was filled with tens of thousands of artifacts, from neclaces and jewelry to
 the bones of human and animal sacrifices. The Hall of the Thousand Pillars is
 also incredible to walk through, with each pillar featuring unique carvings and
 inscriptions; on some, traces of red and blue paint are still visible.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The site was originally populated by the Itzáes around 500 AD, and slowly built
 up until 900 AD, at which point it was completely abandonned. No one knows why
 the Itzáes left so abruptly, but it appears that the city was re-populated
 about 100 years later, and then attacked by the Toltecs, a tribe known for its
 brutality at war. Structures from the period between 1000 and 1300 AD show
 marked Toltec influences, including numeral reliefs of Toltec gods, including
 Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent. The city was abandonned once again around
 1300, this time permanently.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Tulúm, Quintana Roo, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/tulum-quintana-roo-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Mon, 24 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/tulum-quintana-roo-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Between San Cristóbal and Tulúm is a long, empty road. The overnight bus works
 beautifully for this trip, winding its way through the mountains, jungle and
 the vast plains of the Yucatán. The only major stop along the way is Escarcega,
 Campeche. By major, I mean a couple of comida corrida places, a papaya tree,
 and a dusty bus stop on a long, empty stretch of highway. By six in the
 morning, we were in Tulúm, a slightly bigger collection of restaurants and bus
 stops along a long, empty stretch of highway. We grabbed a plate of
 &lt;em&gt;huevos motuleños&lt;/em&gt; and some coffee, which (I swear that I am not making this
 up) was blue. Sort of an off-grey blue. It tasted like milk mixed with
 dishwater.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-24-tulum.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Mayan ruins sit on a bluff of rock covered with low scrub overlooking the Caribbean. Below, waves crash against the rocks.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The best time to see the ruins is, without a doubt, sunrise. The ruins at
 Tulúm, while not spectacular except for the two-metre rock wall surrounding the
 site on three sides, have one of the best views you could possibly hope for.
 The structures sit nestled amid the rolling green grass and white sandy
 beaches, hovering over the turquoise Caribbean. As the sun rises, the whole
 place is bathed in a warm orangey-red glow. Sitting on ruins watching the waves
 is pretty relaxing.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Since Tulúm is so close to Playa del Carmen and Cancún, the number of visitors
 is absoutely huge compared to a lot of other Mayan ruins, and especially given
 the small size of these ruins. Because of that, most of the structures are
 off-limits to the public, so you can’t climb up on them as you can at most
 other sites. In the end, it’s nice to see that these ruins are being protected,
 but Palenque, Uxmal and Chichen Itzá are a lot more fun. That said, if you look
 hard enough, you will find a couple structures you can sit down on.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/san-cristobal-de-las-casas-chiapas-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Fri, 21 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/san-cristobal-de-las-casas-chiapas-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;San Cristóbal is, without question, one of the most beautiful towns in Mexico.
 It’s also the ideal temperature for visiting Canadians, with the temperature
 hovering around 10 °C, and the humidity close to 100% during the daytime in
 winter. It’s cold, damp and cloudy. After months of scorching heat and
 humidity, I was in heaven. San Cristóbal makes an ideal base from which to do
 day-trips to the surrounding villages of San Juan Chamula and
 Zinacantán—indigenous villages comprising the Tzotzil and Tzeltal indigenous
 groups respectively.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-21-plaza.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;The bright yellow façade of a catheral faces the main plaza in San Cristóbal de las Casas. Pedestrials mill about the square in groups.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;In town, we met a law student named Luís who took a group of us to the
 villages. In San Juan Chamula, we first visited the shaman’s hut for the
 village, where we learned about the mix of Catholicism and traditional beliefs
 practised in the village. We then continued on to the village church which was
 probably the highlight of the visit. Seeing the mix of beliefs being practised
 there was incredible: everything from prayers to the Catholic saints to burning
 incense to chicken sacrifices and ceremonial purgings. Photography isn’t
 allowed in the church and out of respect to the Chamulans, we won’t describe
 everything in detail on the web, but suffice to say that it was an incredibly
 worthwhile visit.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Zinacantán is only a few kilometres away, but the villagers speak an entirely
 different language, Tzeltal. Here, the church is much more traditional,
 although most villagers still maintain strong ties to traditional indigenous
 beliefs, such as worshipping the Earth Lord and placing a strong emphasis on
 the interpretation of dreams. For a more detailed look at the beliefs and
 culture of the people of Zinacantán, we’d suggest &lt;em&gt;Dreams and Stories from the
 People of the Bat&lt;/em&gt; by Robert Laughlin. This book is a collection of dreams and
 their interpretations as told by the villagers of Zinacantán, as well as a
 series of short stories passed from generation to generation in the village.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The town also produces many traditional handicrafts typical of Chiapas:
 blankets, clothing, dolls, etc. The villagers take these to San Cristóbal to
 sell them at the markets and on the street. The textiles are all made from
 hand, from the thread, to hand-weaving and embroidering. Typically, a
 medium-sized blanket takes two to three weeks to produce.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-21-beans.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Dozens of varieties of dried beans in many colours arrayed for sale in bins and large sacks for sale at the market&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;Back in San Cristóbal, we spent a few days visiting the markets and wandering
 around town trying out the local food before heading back north for Palenque
 again. On our way out of town we noticed a small shanty-town suburb in a gravel
 pit. On a big yellow arch, bold black letters declared the name of the colonia:
 &lt;em&gt;Sal Si Puedes&lt;/em&gt;, &amp;lsquo;Get Out If You Can&amp;rsquo;. Just past this is the massive military
 encampment that has been in place since 1994 when the EZLN (Zapatista
 Liberation Army) overthrew and occupied the town before being driven out by
 reinforcements sent in, causing a bloodbath. There is a lot less tension now
 than there was then, but the Zapatistas still have incredibly high support in
 the villages just outside of town. The Mexican government under Vincente Fox
 has been much more responsive to indigenous peoples than previous governments
 have been, although in recent months this seems to be less and less the case.
 There’s still a lot of work to do before the indigenous groups in Mexico are
 able to live in conditions similar to the rest of the population. Most people
 in the villages still lack food, clothing and (non-dirt) floors in their
 houses, let alone running water and electricity. And although Chiapas produces
 more electricity than any other state, less than half the population has
 electricity in its home.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Palenque, Chiapas, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/palenque-chiapas-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/12/palenque-chiapas-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;For Christmas, we decided to take a trip to the state of Chiapas, about an 8
 hour bus ride from Mérida. Although Chiapas has been a somewhat politically
 unstable state during the past 10 years, it is also home to some of the most
 incredible scenery, archaeological sites and indigenous culture in the
 country.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-12-18-temple-of-inscriptions.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;The Mayan ruins of the Temple of the Inscriptions at Palenque towering over a courtyard surrounded by jungle. A large staircase leads up the main face of the pyramid. Rain pours down in torrents.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The town of Palenque sits only a few minutes by bike, foot or bus from the
 ruins of the ancient Mayan city of Palenque. The ruins themselves extend over a
 huge area and are composed of many smaller groups of structures situated around
 plazas. The most impressive of these are probably the main plaza—which is
 surrounded by the Temple of the Inscriptions and the palace/observatory
 tower—and the Sun Temple Plaza.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The Temple of the Inscriptions is well-known for housing the sarcophagus and
 jade death mask of Pakal, former ruler of the city. Unfortunately, it&amp;rsquo;s no
 longer possible to visit the inside of the Temple of the Inscriptions without a
 research permit. In theory, that involves applications via your university and
 submissions of your research to the government; in practice it involves 150
 pesos to the right people.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Dzibilchaltún, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/09/dzibilchaltun-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Tue, 11 Sep 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/09/dzibilchaltun-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;About halfway between Mérida and Progresso lie the ruins of Dzibilchaltún, an
 important centre in the ancient world of the Maya. The name means &amp;lsquo;The place
 with writing on the stones.&amp;rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-11-munecas-door.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;View framed by the doorway of the of Templo de las Siete Muñecas looking out over the ruins of a stone building and four-sized stone stela on a raised platform. A path leads past the ruins, through the low jungle, and towards the horizon.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;Dzibilchaltún covers an area of about 16 square kilometres, in which there are
 about 8400 structures. The central part of the site covers three square
 kilometres, which includes several temples and pyramids, as well as a cenote of
 unknown depth, one of the largest in the Yucatán. Many of the structures date
 back as far as 500 B.C.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;From downtown Mérida, you can catch a colectivo that stops down the road from
 the temple. A 10 minute hike from there along a trail through the jungle gets
 you to the entrance to the site, where they charge 50 pesos per person ($7.50
 CDN) to get in. The day we arrived, it was a scorching 40-something degrees,
 with 100% humidity, so the fact that the small museum on the site was
 air-conditionned was worth the price of admission in itself.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The site is divided into two parts, separated by a one kilometre long road. At
 one end is the Temple of the Seven Dolls, named after seven ceramic dolls found
 there as offerings to the gods. At the other end is a courtyard, a pyramid, a
 ball court and the cenote, as well as an open chapel that was constructed
 during the Colonial era, in the late 16th and early 17th century.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-11-munecas-outside.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;View of the Templo de las Siete Muñecas from the path. In the foreground, a hiker walks toward a large worn stela on a raised platform.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The Temple of the Seven Dolls is probably the most interesting part of the
 site. At least it was to us. At one time, the temple was adorned with plaster
 friezes, molded to the shapes of intertwined serpents, hieroglyphs, and masks,
 though these friezes are no longer on the structure itself. The building is
 thought to have served as an astronomical observatory, and during the Vernal
 and Autumnal Equinoxes, an interesting phenonmenon can be seen at sunrise.
 During the Equinoxes, the sun is perfectly aligned such that the morning
 sunlight passes directly between two sets of opposing doors on the temple,
 casting the light down into the courtyard facing the structure. Many people
 pile into Dzibilchaltún between 5:00 and 6:00 in the morning to witness the
 sunrise, then run back out and pile into a bus to Chichen Itza to watch the
 more spectacular effect of the sun casting light in the shape of a giant
 serpent slithering up the side of the temple there in the afternoon. If you
 don’t happen to be a teacher who has classes on these days, this is apparently
 the thing to do.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The cenote on the other side of the site is open for swimming, if you don’t
 mind thousands of little fish chasing you around the whole time. What’s
 curious, of course, is that there are any fish at all in the cenotes, since
 they’re fed by a series of deep, underwater channels of water that snake
 beneath the entire peninsula. There are no rivers or streams connecting them on
 the surface, so the fish have to descend to incredible depths (over 100 m) to
 move between one cenote and the next. From what people have told us, the fish
 that live in the cenotes are blind, which is kind of cool.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;We hiked back out to the road after a few hours of wandering around, the sat
 waiting for a colectivo to drive by and pick us up. For 30 minutes we sat
 around, the air totally still and boiling hot, with only the sound of the
 mosquitos and the cow in the field next to us. I’m not entirely sure what was
 wrong with it, but the way it hollered made it sound demented and insane. I
 honestly hope I never drink any milk from that one; no way that’s safe.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Isla Mujeres, Quintana Roo, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/09/isla-mujeres-quintana-roo-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Thu, 06 Sep 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/09/isla-mujeres-quintana-roo-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-06-lancha.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;A small &amp;#39;lancha&amp;#39; boat floats in the crystal-clear blue waters of the Caribbean, moored a few metres offshore a white sandy beach.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;blockquote&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Lo que tu eres, yo fui&lt;br&gt;
 Lo que yo soy, luego serás&lt;br&gt;
 &lt;em&gt;—Inscription on the pirate Mundaca’s Tomb&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;/blockquote&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Many, many years ago, a pirate by the name of Fermin Antonio Mundaca de
 Marechaja landed on Isla Mujeres and fell in love with a young lady whose name
 has been long forgotten. Today, she is known only as &lt;em&gt;La Trigueña&lt;/em&gt; (The
 Brunette), the name by which he referred to her. In order to win her love,
 Mundaca built an elaborate hacienda, erected archways and laid paths throughout
 the gardens. He had trees and plants brought from all over the world to plant
 in the gardens. Unfortunately, before he finished this masterpiece, she ran off
 with another islander and got married. Today, his house lays in ruins in the
 middle of what remains of his fortress. And if you look carefully, you can
 faintly work out the words &lt;em&gt;La Trigueña&lt;/em&gt; carved into the stone archway. Mundaca
 eventually died of the plague in Mérida, but his small tomb can still be seen
 among the headstones of the small cemetary near the north beach of town.
 Adorned with an eerily grinning skull and crossbones, it bears no name, but
 carries the inscription: &amp;lsquo;As you are, I was. As I am, you will be.&amp;rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;With a couple weeks before school and work starts, we decided to visit Isla
 Mujeres (lit. The Island of Women), a small island that sits about 11 km off
 the east coast of the Yucatán Peninsula, in Quintana Roo. A few hours east of
 Mérida, the island is surrounded by the turquoise, bathtub warm, crystal clear
 waters of the Caribbean, and is the site of some spectacular snorkeling and
 diving.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Isla Mujeres is tiny—about 8 km long and between 300 and 800 metres wide—and
 has a population of 7000 residents. The main part of the town sits on the
 north-west tip of the island, but there are some smaller &lt;em&gt;colonias&lt;/em&gt; in the
 central Salinas area, as well as on the south end. Although it was once a
 fishing town, the main business today is tourism. Unlike Cancún, however, Isla
 Mujeres has a much more relaxed, laid back pace of life, and it hasn’t yet
 turned into a party town full of drunken gringos. The locals appear to want to
 keep it this way, and the local San Francisco store stops selling alcohol at
 8:30 or 9:00 in the evenings.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-06-sunset.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;In the distance, the silhouette of a lancha passes through the shimmering reflection of the setting sun&amp;#39;s light on the ocean.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;From the downtown Cancún bus station, we grabbed the Route 13 bus north along
 Avenida Tulum to the Puerto Juarez ferry terminal, then hopped on a boat for
 the 30 minute ferry ride to the island. We spent the whole ride locked in a
 psychological battle trying not to jump off into the gorgeous blue water; it
 was sheer torture. Apparently we weren’t the only ones—as soon as the boat
 pulled alongside the Isla Mujeres dock, one 40 year old passenger jumped
 overboard and swam to shore.We spent the next few days wandering around the
 island on foot. Like a lot of touristy places in Mexico, there are thousands of
 people trying to sell you anything and everything on the street. Fortunately,
 the city is small enough that all the hawkers seem to be packed into two blocks
 along Avenida Hidalgo between Av. Abasolo and Av. Lopez Mateos. Unfortunately,
 that’s the easiest way to get to the beach. Fortunately (yet again), it’s
 easily bypassed by taking the scenic route.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The best times of day for the beach are sunrise and sunset. The boatloads of
 tourists from Cancún aren’t there, and the beach is nearly empty. The water
 stays warm 24 hours a day, and the sunsets and sunrises are spectacular. During
 the afternoons, the beach is packed with people and the sun is intense enough
 that if you don’t fork over the 60 pesos ($10 Canadian) for a beach umbrella,
 you’ll fry like bacon, even with the SPF 50 they sell at the super market.
 There’s a reason most Mexicans swim in shorts and a t-shirt.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;There are a lot of other things to do on the island. One of the most
 interesting is the Sea Turtle conservation park. This is the only facility in
 Mexico dedicated to preserving endangered sea turtles, such as the Hawk’s Bill
 Turtle, which grows to over 100 kg, and lives to around 120 years old. The sea
 turtles have been hunted to near extinction because of world-wide demand from
 for their meat and shells. At the conservation facility, the turtles are bred,
 cared for, then released back into the wild. There are no railings on the
 walkways above the huge walled off section of ocean where the largest of the
 turtles swim, and according to the guy who showed us around, if you fall in,
 &amp;rsquo;te comen!&amp;rsquo;, &amp;rsquo;they eat you!&#39;.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-06-skeletons.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Four small hand-carved wooden skeleton toys playing musical instruments and wearing sombreros sit on the step of a storefront with their feet on the sidewalk. A small wooden armadillo wanders by.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The ruins of Mundaca’s fortress are in the central part of the island, and if
 you want to be eaten alive by mosquitos (there are Dengue Fever warnings all
 over the place on the Yucatán Peninsula, by the way) it’s a great place to go.
 No wonder the object of Mundaca’s affections ditched him for another man. Any
 sensible pirate would have built his fortress on the beach or at least within
 walking distance. Mundaca built his in the marshiest, grottiest, most densely
 jungled part of the island. On the bright side there is, however, a sort of
 small zoo in his gardens, with alligators, monkeys, a deer, and apparently a
 jaguar, though we never got to see it, because the mosquitos drove us out
 first. By the twentieth or thirtieth bite, we’d had more than enough of
 Mundaca’s place.On the south side of the island, there’s Playa Garrafón, which
 is part of a national park, but seems to have been recently turned into an
 expensive tourist trap, complete with all-you-can-eat restaurants, zip lines,
 &amp;lsquo;underwater adventure&amp;rsquo; and more construction, all for the low, ubeatable price
 of $35 US a day! I believe they even translated that price into pesos
 underneath in small type. We actually went next door, paid 20 pesos (about $2
 US) and had the whole beach to ourselves. We snorkeled around the wharf and a
 small reef, then Pablo and Armando, who ran the place, took us out to a reef 15
 minutes out by boat, where we saw sharks, a sting ray, and a ton of live (and
 dead) coral. Unfortunately, it seems like a million and one other people go out
 to the same reef, and most don’t know how to swim. This means you’ll end up
 spending an hour getting your head kicked in by screaming hoardes of
 life-jacket wearing, water spitting drowners. I did get rammed in the legs by a
 nurse shark though. It felt like sandpaper and was among the creepier
 sensations I have experienced in my life.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-09-06-nativity-scene.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;The gazebo at the centre of the Isla Mujeres plaza decorated in an underwater-themed nativity scene. The virgin mary stands at the centre, her hands in prayer. Fishing nets filled with starfish, tropical fish, and multi-coloured Christmas lights surround the gazebo.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;There are also some Mayan ruins at the south tip of the island, though there’s
 very little left of them. Most of the ruins have been hurled into the ocean by
 various hurricanes, but what’s left sits on a small point overlooking the
 crystal clear blue water. My favourite part was the hand painted sign that
 reads &amp;lsquo;IGUANAS-No los tire piedras-Cuidelas&amp;rsquo;, &amp;lsquo;Please do not throw rocks at
 the iguanas-take care of them!&amp;rsquo; Two English ladies who now live in Kentucky
 were kind enough to pick us up on their rented golf cart and haul us back into
 town, saving us a taxi ride/sunburn.During our stay on the island, we ran into
 a small herd of beach cats. They appeared to be completely starving, which I’m
 sure is all part of their little ploy to get food from unsuspecting tourists.
 In fact, I’m sure that if a study were done, they’d probably find that this is
 a behaviour that beach cats have evolved over centuries of tourism, sort of
 like pigeons that pretend to be one-legged to get sympathy points from old
 grannies in parks. In any case, these poor things ended up rounding up enough
 sympathy to get some canned tuna… twice. Most of the time, though, I we watched
 it digging holes on the beach, which I don’t really want to think about too
 much. We also saw it kill and eat cockroaches, which no matter how disgusting
 it is, I have to admit is actually sort of mezmerising.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;All in all, it was a great vacation before everything gets crazy here. We hope
 we’ll have time to go back at some point for another visit. The place to stay
 is definitely the Hotel El Marcianito; the guy who runs it is totally friendly,
 and gave us a ton of advice on places to see.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Chelem, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/chelem-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Fri, 31 Aug 2001 14:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/chelem-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Grabbed a bus north to Progreso to go to the beach. While it was beautiful
 weather and the ocean looked great, there were no palm trees on the beach, so
 it was impossible to find any shade. We’d heard that in the next town over,
 Yucalpetén, there were some great beaches, so we asked around and finally found
 a colectivo headed out in that direction. The one we found stopped
 by a bathing centre and the town of Chelem. Now right now I’m going to come
 straight out and say it: if someone ever tells you a story about the amazing
 beaches at Yucalpetén, just back away slowly and do not make any sudden
 moves—the person you are talking to has probably escaped from an asylum.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-08-31-chelem.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Main street of Chelem&#34;&gt;&lt;figcaption&gt;
       &lt;h4&gt;The main street of Chelem?&lt;/h4&gt;
     &lt;/figcaption&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;We wandered around for a few hours, but we never did find a beach in decent
 condition. In the end we sat on a grass embankment close to the ocean,
 observing what appeared to be the remains of a house that had been bulldozed
 across the beach and into the ocean; there still were big chunks of concrete
 wall strewn all over the place. It was sort of post-apocalyptic looking. On the
 bright side, there was a nice cool breeze.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Progreso, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/progreso-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Fri, 31 Aug 2001 10:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/progreso-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Half an hour north of Mérida is the port town of Progreso. Though it’s on the
 gulf side of the peninsula, the water is still a beautiful turquoise-blue; it
 puts Canadian beaches to shame. On a hot weekend, Progreso makes a fun day
 trip. The wind keeps you cool, and as long as you keep ordering drinks, the
 food comes free at the palapa huts on the beach.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-08-31-palapa.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Three beach chairs sit in the shade of a palm-thatched palapa on the beach overlooking the ocean. A small &amp;#39;lancha&amp;#39; boat is pulled up on the beach. On the left, Progreso&amp;#39;s long pier extends over the water towards the horizon.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;The one thing that is impossible to miss in Progreso is the pier. At its
 original length of 6 km, it was the longest in all of México, and with its new
 3 km extension for cruise ships, it’s now the longest in the world. The reason
 for its size is that the Yucatán Peninsula is in essence a huge, flat limestone
 shelf that continues to extend long past the waterfront. At 6 km out, the
 water is still only 7 or 8 metres deep. As a result a 3 km extension was added
 in 2001 to allow cruise ships to dock safely.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;When we asked friends in Mérida about the beach in Progreso, they mostly told
 us that it wasn’t that nice. When we got back, I told my class that in Canada
 we put beaches like that in beer commercials. I guess when Cancún is only a few
 hours drive away, you can afford to be picky. The only downside is that most of
 the palm trees are tiny. The previous ones were all ripped out during Hurricane
 Gilberto a few years ago. As a result there’s very little shade, so your only
 option is to hide under a palapa.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Izamal, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/izamal-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Thu, 30 Aug 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/izamal-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Took a trip a few towns to the east this morning, to Izamal. While Mérida is
 known throughout México as the White City, Izamal is referred to as the Yellow
 City due to the preponderance of yellow buildings. With a population of 15,000
 or so, it’s much quieter than Mérida, and horse-drawn carriages are still used
 as transportation by some of its residents. The two big tourist attractions
 here are the ruins of Kinich-Kakmó, one of 12 Mayan temples that originally
 stood at the site of this town, and the Franciscan Monastery, one of the first
 in the New World, built from the stones of the largest Mayan temple in Izamal
 after it was torn down by the Conquistadors.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;The Convento de San Antonio de Padua sits on one side of the Plaza Principal, a
 block from the city’s bus station. Climbing up the ramp in front brings you to
 a large flat terrace and the entrance to the buildings themselves. From there,
 you can enter the chapel, visit the arboreum or climb up to the top levels of
 the monastery. If you look carefully, some of the stones in the walls and
 arches have Mayan designs on them—these were part of the temple that originally
 stood at this location. Facing away from the monastery, you can see
 Kinich-Kakmó towering over the jungle six or seven blocks away.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Kinich-Kakmó, which is about 200 m x 180 m, was built between 300 and 600 A.D.
 and was recently restored. From the top levels, the temple provides a great
 view of the city. Following a narrow dirt path around the back affords a
 spectacular view of the surrounding jungle and the vast, Saskatchewan-like
 flatness of the Yucatán peninsula. All over the place, big, lazy iguanas
 sunbathe on the rock walls of the temple. Just beside the entrance, at the base
 of the front side of the pyramid, is a great-smelling tortillería.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;We ate at the Kinich-Kakmó Restaurant, and it was delicious though a little
 pricey. We each had a Montejo beer and lime soup, followed by Poc-Chuc¹ and
 Rellenos Negros², along with some fresh handmade tortillas. As with many
 restaurants, homemade tortilla chips and salsas are served with the meal. The
 total came to about 160 pesos, which is enough to buy you several days worth of
 groceries at Wal-Mart or San Francisco in Mérida. The main dining area is
 outdoors under a thatched Mayan style roof (and yes, lots of people still live
 in traditional Mayan huts—some have corrugated metal roofs these days, but just
 as many use the traditional palm fronds). The waiters even offer bug-spray if
 you need it. Fortunately, due to some creative engineering by the staff, you
 don’t need it. Clear plastic bags of water dangle by threads from the roof and,
 in the words of the waiter, &amp;lsquo;when the bug sees his reflection as he gets
 closer, he sees himself reflected so big and ugly that it scares him away.&amp;rsquo; It
 seems to work—we didn’t see a single fly or mosquito during lunch, and there
 were tons outside. Royal Thai in San Rafael, California does the same thing, so
 there’s got to be something to it.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, I forgot to bring the memory card for the camera, so no
 pictures, but it was well worth the trip.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;h3 id=&#34;glossary&#34;&gt;Glossary&lt;/h3&gt;
 &lt;ol&gt;
 &lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poc-Chuc:&lt;/em&gt; A Yucatecan dish made with pork marinaded in orange juice.&lt;/li&gt;
 &lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rellenos Negros:&lt;/em&gt; A spicy, black Yucatecan soup made from beans, with
 pieces of chicken and a hard boiled egg bathing in it.&lt;/li&gt;
 &lt;/ol&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Quest for a Hammock</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/quest-for-a-hammock/</link>
       <pubDate>Tue, 28 Aug 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/quest-for-a-hammock/</guid>
       <description>&lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-08-28-old-door.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;A worn-down wooden door lies framed by a crumbling building façade in Mérida. Traces of faded lettering remain where the paint has not flaked away.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;In Mérida, most people sleep in hammocks. Walk down any residential street and
 look in the windows and you’ll see hammocks strung all over the room. What I’m
 getting at is that I finally caved in and bought a hammock. Now sit back and
 listen, ’cause here’s my advice…&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;If you’re in Mérida, you’ll be approached every five minutes by someone wanting
 to sell you a hammock off the street. Do not buy it! That man is crazy! The
 quality of hammock you get from a wandering hammock guy is a mystery until you
 try it out. And you’re not going to be trying it out until after you’ve paid
 for it. Generally speaking, they’re pretty bad. Locals refer to them as
 ‘hospital hammocks’ because that’s where you end up if you use them. Go to a
 hammock shop with a good reputation. If they can show you a photo album of them
 and their grandparents chopping down sisal (henequen cactus), stripping the
 fibre, and making hammocks, it’s a pretty safe bet that the hammocks are
 good.So Julio Armando pulled out a few hammocks, strung them up, proudly
 displays the threading to show there were no flaws, and got me to jump in and
 take it for a spin. Hammocks come in lots of sizes: single, double,
 matrimonial, and matrimonial especial. The difference is the number of pairs of
 end threads. Matrimonial has about 150 pairs of end threads, whereas a single
 has about 50 and a double has about 100. Keep in mind that these sizes were
 designed for people of Mayan stature, which is a lot smaller than your typical
 Canadian, or Mestizo Mexican.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, the walls in the apartment must be the only ones in the whole
 city that doesn’t have hammock hooks! Even a lot of hotels in Mérida provide
 hooks! I ran across the street to the Tlapalería¹ and using hand signals and
 pantomime, bought exactly five metres of nylon rope. Using those engineering
 skills I spent so much effort learning at UVic, and some knots I learned in Boy
 Scouts, I rigged up a makeshift hammock hookup. Unfortunately, the only
 available post to string a rope around was the chunk of wall between the
 balcony door and the window, which meant that both the door and the window had
 to be open to use it, and I had to pull the mosquito screen out of the window
 anytime I wanted to use the hammock.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;About Mérida’s weather: Maybe you people back home have looked at the
 temperatures in Mérida and thought &amp;lsquo;Wow! They spend the whole summer in the mid
 to upper 30s! It’s just like Cancún!&amp;rsquo; True, but it’s also insanely humid, which
 means you’re covered in sweat 24 hours a day—imagine waking up sticky and
 sweaty every morning; that’s why most people use hammocks. What’s more, unlike
 Cancún, there are thunderstorms every afternoon between about four and seven.
 You can set your watch by them. During these thunderstorms, it rains. A lot. So
 much, in fact, that having the window or door open even a centimetre spells
 certain doom. In short, the hammock is no longer up. Back to the drawing board.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;A curious side note here. If you wander the streets of Mérida enough, you’ll
 notice an inordinate number of people with one or both eyes missing. The reason
 for this is quite interesting. Mérida is famous around the world for its
 hammocks. And to make hammocks you need henequen fibre. The sisal cactus from
 which you get it has very, very sharp, needle-like barbs. You get the point.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;h3 id=&#34;glossary&#34;&gt;Glossary&lt;/h3&gt;
 &lt;ol&gt;
 &lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tlapalería:&lt;/em&gt; A sort of little roadside hardware store.&lt;/li&gt;
 &lt;/ol&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>Mérida, Yucatán, México</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/merida-yucatan-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Fri, 17 Aug 2001 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/merida-yucatan-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;Arrived in Cancún on Friday at about 6 pm, took out some money from the bank
 machine, and hopped into a colectivo¹ for Ciudad Cancún—the city itself—a
 twenty minute drive from the long strip of hotels between the lagoon and the
 ocean that the outside world refers to as Cancún. By the time the colectivo got
 to the bus station, it was 9 pm, so after checking out the schedule and booking
 tickets, there was just enough time to grab some dinner and get some sleep
 before heading off to Mérida first thing the next morning.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src=&#34;https://chris.bracken.jp/post/2001-08-17-cathedral.jpg&#34;
     alt=&#34;Façade of the Mérida cathedral in the evening light. Groups of pedestrians pass along the sidewalk in front as Volkswagen Beetles drive by.&#34;&gt;
 &lt;/figure&gt;
 
 &lt;p&gt;Sitting in a Mexican bus station is an activity in itself. Drenched in sweat
 and surrounded by hundreds of other sweaty people carrying bags, backpacks, and
 cardboard packages held together with twine, in heat and humidity well above
 what any sane person would tolerate, you gain an appreciation of just how
 patient a people the Mexicans are. Buses come and go as they please; to the
 Mexican bus driver, the posted schedule is only a guideline. Buses are
 notoriously late, and ours is no exception.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;When it does arrive, the bags are loaded, everyone climbs into their seats and,
 once the bus driver has got his drinks and snacks ready for the trip, he throws
 it into reverse and we´re off. After a four hour ride through the Yucatecan
 jungle, we arrived at the Fiesta Américana terminal in the north end of Mérida.
 From there, we grabbed a taxi into town and unloaded everything at Hotel Mucuy,
 on calle 57 between calle 56 and calle 58, where we stayed while we searched
 for jobs and a place to live.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;This might be a good time to explain the mysterious numbering system for the
 addresses in Mérida. Odd numbered streets run east-west and even numbered
 streets run north-south. For streets that run diagonally, the ones that run
 from SE to NW are even, the rest are odd—usually. Another challenge is that
 street addresses are not often consistent; number 499 might be three or four
 blocks from 498. Because of this, addresses are usually given as a street
 number and a cross street (for corner addresses) or a street number and the two
 cross streets between which the address lies.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;Mérida is the capital city of México’s Yucatán state and, centuries ago, was
 the capital of the Mayan empire as well. When the Spanish conquistadors arrived
 in the city in the mid-16th century, led by Francisco de Montejo, they
 discovered the Mayan city of Tihó. Its temples and limestone architecture
 reminded them enough of Mérida, Spain that they promptly renamed the city and
 began dismantling the Mayan structures. While you won’t find any of the
 original Mayan buildings remaining today, the cathedral in the Plaza Principal²
 contains blocks from the Mayan temple that once stood in the same location.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;p&gt;In any case, the city today is gorgeous. Its narrow streets and colonial
 architecture give it a traditional feel. Every Sunday, all the streets within
 several blocks of the main plaza are shut down to vehicle traffic while
 musicians play live music near the Plaza Principal, and people dance in the
 streets.&lt;/p&gt;
 &lt;h3 id=&#34;glossary&#34;&gt;Glossary&lt;/h3&gt;
 &lt;ol&gt;
 &lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Colectivo:&lt;/em&gt; a communal taxi, usually a VW van, into which the driver packs
 as many people as the laws of physics will allow. For example the last one
 we used had 16 people stuffed into it.&lt;/li&gt;
 &lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Plaza Principal:&lt;/em&gt; the main square found in almost every Mexican town.&lt;/li&gt;
 &lt;/ol&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
     <item>
       <title>¡Hola México!</title>
       <link>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/hola-mexico/</link>
       <pubDate>Fri, 17 Aug 2001 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
       
       <guid>https://chris.bracken.jp/2001/08/hola-mexico/</guid>
       <description>&lt;p&gt;After a year and a half in San Francisco, California, we’ve moved to Mérida,
 Yucatán, México. So far so good! The heat is scorching, the humidity is
 sweltering, and the mosquitos are biting. But Mérida is a beautiful city, and
 the people are wonderful.&lt;/p&gt;
 </description>
     </item>
     
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