In Pijijiapan we find a laundry service where the business room is joint with the living room and the whole family curiously watches us making our inquiry. And the next day we get super lucky that the opening hours aren't taken too seriously and we're handed back our clothes on Sat afternoon, as the nightbus for Sunday had already been booked. As many times before the less organized lifestyle here comes in handy for us travelers.
So after 1,5 months in chingon* Chiapas, we reach Oaxaca (state) by the end of February, going straight to Oaxaca (city) on an unpleasant night bus ride, where the bus driver probably thought we're in a colectivo, speeding up the windy roads. But we know we've come to a good place when even the search for a hostel and walking through town after maybe 3 hours of sleep feels enjoyable. And again we get our desired hostel without having it booked in advance, que chido! Both Maik and I are happy to be back in an urban space that is not too hectic, but provides the worldly comforts like fast internet connections, shopping opportunities (like my lost SD-card adapter) and of course social interactions. Who needs a travel guide when other travels in our hostel provide up-to-date and first hand information? "Oh, you're going to San Jose de Pacifico next? Don't bother about the mushrooms, there expensive and don't really work." Or that other dude just dropping a bud into Maik's hands - it has found us again! - and we're making good use of the roof terrace after that. In Oaxaca I'm itching to explore, so we take tours to the ruins at sunny Monte Alban, the impressive botanical gardens, the small textile museum and downtown with it's bustling sqare and many cafés. Though not a great fan of crowds, I thoroughly enjoy watching the colourful bunch of people, vendors and above all kids running around. In Mexico I found many children basically "free ranging", even late at night, which deems a good sign in terms of trust. On the other hand I'm afraid that all the kids selling stuff in the streets or sometimes asking for money are not given the chance to go to school, they have to work. I can't speak for their happiness (who liked school, anyways?), and yet it's understood not every aspect of Mexican life is a romantic and free as I somestimes wanna believe.
The time in the city flies by and and holds more entertainement, like a mediocre cooking class, which turns out more fun as we dine on our experiments with free Mezcal, singing German, Norwegian and Australian drinking songs with the chef's mom. Needless to say, the next day I feel like shit and since we had to leave our dorm, Maik and I are hangovering on the hostel couch until we can meet up with our couchsurfing host Jason. He takes us out with friends and we go to a proper local pub, without a sign over the door but a messy room including a blasting karoke machine, Jesus pictures on the wall and 2for1 beer promotion - I drink juice that night. We got lucky being hosted by Jason as we connect easily and he takes us to a flatwarming party, to where the taxi ride is an adventure, the wind blows a foul air from the river onto the terrace and we play "never have I ever" until we run out of booze; to frisbee practise, which is chaos itself and hard for me to bare, but of course features a ton of cool people and we go drinking fresh coconut water afterwards; and to the cinema on our last night, where we watch the amazing "Black Panther" for 3€. So yeah, it's hard to not fall in love with Oaxaca.
The following journey to San Jose de Pacifico at 2000m altitude, halfway to the Oaxacan coast, turned out another adventure: for reasons unknown, our colectivo driver decides to take a detour over farm roads, that are clearly not made for a big, square car and include steep, sandy parts but of course no road signs. We were lost in the middle of the desert, driving around until the paved road in a small village suddenly ends like on a cliff and I curse myself for having wished for more excitement. Hopefully we don't have to cross any rivers, I think, just before we have to drive through a stream with big rocks, but of course it goes well. Most of the other passengers don't seem too concerned, the driver happily jokes with his company over the radio, but I'm more on the exhausted side as we reach our destination.
To not turn this post into a book, again, I'll sum up the 4 beautiful days there: We stay in a shaggy hostel and I haggle for a better price (first time trying, very proud), we meet a fun Finnish couple and enjoy the amazing views and looking at the stars through our window at night. During a small but strenous hike, I thought: One reason why I like hiking so much despite it being strenuous, is that it gives me no excuses, no chance to quit. I just have to go on, bit by bit, complaining or not, got a place to reach by the end of the day. I can be a super lazy person, so I have to put myself in situations under pressure. Like I tried learning Spanish at university, but couldn't get the hang of it, and I quit after one semester of barely managing to say hello. Now I'm traveling around Mexico having to speak Spanish and getting better at it while being lazy most of the time. Win-win.
And then, my oh my, came Zipolite. Having a reputation as a hippie beach, we landed right where we belong. The hostel of our choice is available and the people there add up to it's near perfection. It's about 1 min walking to the beach, which features dangerous waters with a strong undercurrent and furthermore tons of naked people. I was thinking: Nude beaches make so much sense! It's a great liberating feeling and besides, when going into the water and getting all wet, it doesn't seem smart to wear clothes. And here it's warm enough, even without the sun the wind sends a warm breeze. I see some people still wear clothes, some wear only some, many are naked. The Argentinian girl from our hostel is topless, taking selfies, and the Mexican with the clear blue eyes plays frisbee with me without clothes. Nobody seems to care (no "raised eyebrows by locals", as the Lonely P. said) and, oh, look, there's the hippie with the long ding-dong!
The days fly by even faster, the sun is hot but the water is fresh and keeps you busy not to drown. We watch the dogs play at the beach, smoke in the hammocks and create a social web that almost makes me feel like having close friends again. Especially the Finnish couple Maria and Mitja are fun to hang out with, they come around to our hostel a lot, we cook, and guess to defeated some pool pros in a game of billard?! Ok, we take this stupid boat tour to see whales but don't see any, just turtles and more beaches, where we have to wear clothes (duh!). But my disappointment melts in the sun and the water washes off the frustration. Maik and I keep saying, we will leave tomorrow, only to change our minds after wondering, why should we leave paradise? Maik learns how to surf and I watch the sunrise on the beach, and then we depart, finally, sadly. Our schedule is pulling us towards the frisbee tournament in a few days and we really wanna play a beach tournament in Mexico. But conveniently on the way there lies one last (bear with me!) beautiful stop in Oaxaca, the Laguna Chacahua.
We may have not seen the northern lights when we visited Iceland a couple of years ago, but the bioluminescent lights in the water must have your active dictionary reduced to "wow." just as well. We took a boat into the lagoon, dipping our hands into the water and leaving a sparkly trail, glowing fish appear, it's unbelievable. Rowing through the mangroves at night, between the roots sticking out of the water, has a mystical feeling to it. We even take a swim on the riverbank after confirming that the crocodiles of the lagoon don't like to come to this part of the water.
And for those who wanna have a slightly safer swimming experience, there is also a beach with a not-quite-as-deadly undercurrent as Zipolite. So no matter which way we turn from our camping spot, there's always water on one end. We're staying with Tia Mode, an older Jamaican women running a guest house/ campground with restaurant right on the beach but a little outside of the village. And if you eat there and sleep in your own tent, you pay nothing for accomodation. The food is amazing and Tia and her woman make fresh Quesadillas for us even at 10pm. Because we can only spend 2 nights there, the social interactions are somewhat shallow but this time I don't mind. No one wants to make friends and say goodbye to them all of the time... Maik and I decide to go to the beach on our secod night, and, wow, did we not expect that - because nobody had told us! The waves were glowing! It was even more impressive because it was so bright, this time I was able to take pictures! We sat there under the stars for at least on hour, watching the waves crashing in, thinking: No mames, wey!
When we said, Chiapas was great and we loved the warm-hearted people, well, little did we know what gems were hidden in Oaxaca. But not only the wonders and of this country get to me. In my diary I write a lot about how I enjoy the simple things again, a cup of coffee in the sun, listening to music, and so on. It's been a while since I was this relaxed, since stressful jobs and stupid flatmates in Germany had worn me down. Now I'm slowly learning to love myself again, which may sound super cheesy and banal, but looking into the mirror and smiling at that stupid face looking back at you, that's not to be mastered easily.
* dictionary
chingon = fucking great
chido = cool
Tia = aunt
No mames, wey! = You gotta be fucking kidding me, dude!
Our route in Chiapas and Oaxaca:
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| the beach south of Pijijiapan |
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| saying goodbye to Eliana and daughter at the bus station |
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| view over Oaxaca City from Monte Alban |
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| la Mama at the cooking course/ Mezcal party |
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| hostel dog comforts me with my cat (Kater) |
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| San Jose de Pacifico |
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| Maria and Mitja in Zipolite |
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| dangerous to swim, so better surf |
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| Zipolite sunrise |
