Zwischen den Zeiten

Excuse me, my English speaking fellows, inspiration came to me in German again. Who knows, if we keep meeting  chido  Mexicans, maybe someday I'll post something in Spanish...

So, 18.2.
Der Weg zum Vulkan beginnt wie alle anderen mit einem Colectivo. Wir müssen nicht nach dem passenden suchen, es kommt uns am Eingang seines Nestes in Tapachula entgegen. Der Fahrer winkt aufgeregt, wir winken fröhlich zurück und es wird mitten auf der Straße angehalten, damit wir einsteigen können. Keine 2 Minuten später nächster Halt: Markt, augenblicklich werden wir umringt von diversen Gerüchen und Verkäufern, die sich emsig plappernd ins Auto drängen. Aber bei Churros für 30ct sagen wir ausnahmsweise ja. Cooler Service! Weiter geht's durch die Straßen Tapachulas, kleines Straßenrennen mit einem anderen Colectivo, dann volle Kanne in die Eisen steigen, da passt noch jemand rein ins Auto! Nun ist die Schicksalgemeinschaft komplett und wie Maik treffend feststellt, können viele Mitfahrer quasi polsternd die fehlenden Gurte ersetzen. Auch das letzte kurvige Stück Bergstraße nehmen wir mit Nackenschmerzen und Humor: Besuch aufm Jahrmarkt ist mit dieser Fahrt erledigt.

Mexikanische Autofahrer wird man nicht wie z.B. Vietnamesen oder Napelesen an der globalen Spitze der Verkehrs-Chaos-Skala finden (meiner Erfahrung nach - und jaja, Verallgemeinerungen...). Jedoch sprechen der gebraucht-verbeulte Zustand vieler PKWs und das schüchtern anmutende Verhalten der Fußgänger von einer einzigen simplen Regel: "Sei auch du ein Lümmel im Verkehrsgetümmel!" Blinken ist was für Angeber und wenn überhaupt, dann gleich beidseitig, so als Universalsignal für alle Gelegenheiten! Achtung, scharfe Kurve: Warnblinker. Ich bremse demnächst: Warnblinker. Ich biege ab, rate mal wohin: Warnblinker. Und so weiter. Die Hupe ist ebenfalls Kommunikationsmittel, va um als Taxifahrer potentielle Kunden zu verschreck...äh...aufmerksam zu machen oder sich bei Kreuzungen die Vorfahrt zu sichern. Auch nach fast 3 Monaten in Mexiko bin ich mir nicht sicher, ob es ein rechts vor links gibt oder eher wer zuerst kommt, mahlt zuerst. Aber keine Sorge, das Unfallrisiko scheint in diesem Sinne meist gebremst vom Mangel an Aggression, zumindest gegenüber anderen Fahrern.

Wie gesagt, viele Menschen hier scheinen als Kind in ein Entspannungsbadfass gefallen zu sein, da kann die Mugge noch so aufdringlich aus den Lautsprechern dröhnen, es käme nie jemand auf die Idee sich zu beschweren. Und wenn schon das Colectivo abseits der Gangschaltung keine akustische Unterhaltung bietet, dann hat bestimmt einer der Fahrgäste ein Handy mit potenten Lautsprechern. Gerne auch mehrere Geräte, parallel zu den unendlichen Filmen auf langen Busfahrten. Generell fasziniert mich die Geräuschkulisse hier am meisten, und darüber hinaus meine eigene Toleranz ihr gegenüber. In Europa, den USA und überhaupt vielen Ländern scheint es ja sowas wie den Anspruch auf Ruhe zu geben, in Mexiko gibt es n Satz heiße Ohren. Party zu Weihnachten mit Dezibel im Düsenjet-Bereich von Mitternacht bis 5, direkt neben dem Campingplatz? Ich höre niemanden meckern. In der Pizzeria läuft ein Film, der mit Schüssen und Explosionen die eigenen Kaugeräusche schluckt? Kenne keinen, den es juckt. Werbung lässt sich auch am besten akustisch realisieren, über Lautsprecher am Autodach. Und wenn der Gasflaschen-Verkäufer durch die Straßen fährt, hört man das am lauten Scheppern der Kette, die am Heck baumelt (klingt wie die Glocken eines Weihnachtsschlittens, ihr könnt euch meine Enttäuschung vorstellen als keine Pferde auftauchten). Kindergeschrei, Autoabschließ-Hupe, Hunde-Gebell und natürlich Shopping-Soundtrack, also ohrenbetäubende Musik in vielen Geschäften, und niemand zuckt auch nur mit der Wimper. Und ich habe mich erfolgreich angepasst - man ist halt nicht allein auf der Welt - und zu Weihnachten einfach Oropax reingemacht.

Aber ich schwiff ab. Wir fuhren am Fuße des Vulkans durch die dschungeligen Kaffeeplantagen, welche gerade in voller Blüte stehen und herrlich duftend durch die Fenster des Colectivos wehen. Beim Gedanken an den Aufstieg zum Gipfel morgen, kommt mir allerdings innerlich das Bibbern, aus Furcht vor dem Äußerlichen. Soll heißen: Sommerschlafsäcke!!, und obwohl es um einen Vulkan geht, soll es nachts schweinekalt werden, also Pappkartons packen oder doch Feuer im Zelt? Es bleibt spannend, sogar für uns.

Mi 21.2.
Das war mal keine gute Idee mit der Jeans! Im Bus Richtung Tschijischiapan (oder wie das heißt) ist es kackenwarm und zum ersten Mal erwerben wir bei den Verkäufern, die bei jedem Halt die Gänge mit ihren Fruchtbeuteln, Bananenchips und Getränken ablaufen, eine Cola. Zucker!!! Ersetzt das ausgefallene Frühstück, wir mussten nämlich beim Packen streiten, da Maik meine kleine Kompaktkamera nicht mehr findet. Also das dritte Gerät weg nach der gestohlenen Powerbank in Tulum und meinem vergessenen Handy in Santa Kannstmichma. Mitten in unseren Frust platzte dann auch noch eine Dame des Hotels mit der Aufforderung, doch bitte das Zimmer zu zahlen und wollte den Gutschein über 15% Rabatt anfangs gar nicht annehmen. Den hatten wir gestern Abend in einer Pizzeria entdeckt, wo extra für uns 2 vegetarische Pizzen gemacht wurden und wir uns mit den freundlichen Angestellten über den dröhnenden Fernseher hinweg über ihren im Fluss ertrunkenen Chef unterhalten. Union Juarez ist ein kleines Dorf und die Leute lieben Tratsch. Jedenfalls ist der Streit mittlerweile gegessen, die restliche Pizza auch, zum Mittagessen und erspart damit die manchmal frustrierende Suche nach Kadaver-freier Nahrung.

Auf dem Weg zum Krater des Vulkans war das übrigens überhaupt kein Problem, die Menschen auf 2000m Höhe ernähren sich nämlich hauptsächlich von Bohnen und Tortillas (Maismehlfladen), manchmal mit Ei dazu, schön salzig und in viel Fett gebraten. Nach einer stundenlangen Wanderung nur bergauf natürlich das leckerste Essen überhaupt! So wurden wir für günstig Geld zum Essen und Schlafen in die einfachen Holzhütten der Bewohner des Vulkans gebeten, und huch, ist das ein Huhn unterm Tisch? Die Freundlichkeit und Offenheit der Leute ist absolut, voller Staunen betrachtet Maxima meinen Arte-Stoffbeutel, ihr Mann Francisco lächelt durch die fehlenden Vorderzähne. Das Ehepaar ist über 50, sie leben ohne ihre 5 bereits erwachsenen Söhne und außerdem 6 Monate im Jahr ohne Wasser, bis es wieder regnet (dann wird alles aufgefangen, was nicht verdunstet). Gegen 19 Uhr liegen wir in der dunklen Hütte auf dem gestampften Lehmboden, direkt neben einer Henne mit ihren Küken unter den Flügeln. Am nächsten Morgen Aufbruch vor dem aufziehenden Nebel, uns werden für die Nacht auf dem Krater 2 dicke Decken, die bitte nicht dreckig werden sollen, Waschen ist schwer in der Trockenzeit. Aber sie retten die Nacht! Nach einem Vormittag, wo Maik und ich 1000 Höhenmeter überwinden, stehen wir in der ersehnten Kraterzone, endlich, aber Moment mal! Wo ist den der Rauch, war der Vulkan nicht semi-aktiv? Und wieso liegt hier so viel Müll? Aber cool, die Grenze zu Guatemala geht direkt durch den flachen Platz und wir bauen unser Zelt im anderen Land auf. Dann noch eine Runde Frisbee über die Grenze spielen, abends zum Sonnenuntergang auf den 100m höheren Gipfel und dieses Wahnsinnsgefühl genießen, über den Wolken zu schweben. Am nächsten Morgen überrascht es mich nicht, dass außen und innen am Zelt eine dünne Eisschicht ist, denn es war schweinekalt, und ich bin froh als halb 6 der Wecker klingelt. Kaum wieder auf dem Gipfel, küssen uns die ersten Sonnenstrahlen guten Morgen und lassen den Vulkan einen langen Schatten werfen. Den Abstieg haben wir wohl etwas überhastet, ab der Hälfte des Weges verspüre ich krasse Knieschmerzen links (wie schon in Monterrey) und gehe am Stock. Aber dennoch faszinierend der Nebelwald knapp unter 2000m, diese riesigen Farne und schier unendlich-grünen Berghänge, mysteriöse Baumfrüchte und dann der Abzweig, wo wir hochzu dachten, das wäre ne Abkürzung, nur um beim Friedhof zu landen. Aber nein, einen Führer braucht man nicht, immerhin reicht unser Spanisch mittlerweile über die Bierbestellung hinaus und die Menschen am Vulkan helfen gern bei der Wegfindung.

So konnten wir trotz kleiner Umwege auch diesen Ausflug als Erfolg verbuchen, oder sagen wir lieber, den Strand haben wir uns verdient! Vor allem unsere Waden schreien nach Ruhe und Streckung, also 3h Busfahrt, kein Problem. Auf dem Weg nach Pijijiapan (wie es eigentlich heißt), sausen die Eindrücke vom Vulkan und den Leuten durch meinen Kopf, mischen sich mit der Vorfreude über die Küste und den Weg ins Ungewisse, keine Ahnung, wo wir heute Abend unser Lager aufschlagen werden. Und dann ist da noch diese Einsamkeit, mitten unter all den Mitfahrern, die Rastlosigkeit trotz der Vorwärtsbewegung, ach und überhaupt vermisse ich meine Freunde. Vielleicht einfach Musik hören und die Gedanken schweifen lassen? Aber meine Playlists habe ich seit der Arbeit auf der Farm bisschen über... Wie vom Universum geschickt taucht tatsächlich kurz darauf ein Musiker im Bus auf und spielt einige mexikanische Klassiker (vermute ich) auf seiner Gitarre. Vom Text verstehe ich kaum ein Wort, aber mein Herz singt mit, schwitzend und sowieso, Mexiko, du bist schon cool.

About Chiapas, Chilas and Chapati

Today is a day we connect. From far in the mountains I came to bring you the stories of our simple farm life (in which we don't farm). Over the hills around Teopisca, more than 20 minutes after the cadena (which doens't exist anymore) at Ojo de Aqua, you must walk to find the little paradise Chilas and Alice have built and where Maik and I currently work our time away. How did we find it? Well, first of all we didn't...

After traveling into Chiapas and spending some time in jungle-like Palenque and then San Cristobal de la Resistancia (stories will follow), it was finally time to involve in the basic life of locals. From where the colectivo dropped us in the small town of Teopisca, we started heading towards a farm we had found in the internet, equipped with only a short description Alice had given us: "take a tuk-tuk and go to ojo de aqua, tell the driver 'hasta la cadena' and then walk up the hill for 15-20mins until a cobb house on the right side with a sign 'temascal'..." Since many streets in smaller (and bigger) places in Mexico don't have names and probably because I'm less worried when traveling, I didn't question these informations or asked for more. Our tuktuk-driver didn't really seem to know where that cadena (chain) is, but dropped us right in front of one, so we loaded up our big bags and started walking uphill, fast because we had only 1,5hrs of daylight left. Then the road goes downhill. Wait, what? Also a lot of houses here, hm, maybe we're on the wrong track because there is more than one chain around here... It took inquiring 3 different people and walking for about 45mins before we were back where we started but found a helpful farmer who knew the place of our desire and drew us a map. Then it took almost another hour and a steep hill until we finally reached the rancho. Alice had already been worried and told us, usually everbody in town knows the cadena... And we'd thought, maybe the thin description lets only the strongest and smartest workers reach their destination. Whatever, once we saw the people and the place, any upset feelings disappeared and I felt like Christmas had come. The piece of land was tranqil and beautiful, 1ha of bushes, trees and some meadows, the little farm house sitting right on a little stream. Which is also the one and only source of running water, the necessary heat comes from the gas stove or fire, energy for lights is given by the sun. That's it! Now power outlets, wifi or even a bathroom. Chilas had started building the house when Alice was pregnant with their boy Tanok (now 2 years old) and now it's growing bit by bit. When I told Nadine back home what we were doing all day long, for example collecting firewood, getting water or helping building walls, she said:"You don't even have walls?" Well, we do, there is a room for voluneers and one for the family where we also cook and sit at night in front of the fire. But the kitchen needed some extra pieces, a heap of clay here, some plastic covers there, how fascinating to help building an actual house!

But wait, why do I keep mentioning fires, isn't it hot in Mexico? Hm, we wish, especially at night, when it's 6°C and we have to remember we're at 2000m altitude. Right now the weather treats us nicely, though and sends warm sunshine during the day, allowing us to walk around in shorts and to take cold baths from the river. We've already spent about 2 weeks up there, and because I don't wanna bore myself by writing too many details that are better understood on any photo*. it's highlight time again!


Fri Jan 26th:
First morning, woken up by Tanok's excited voice, the sound of the small stream and the birds in the trees. Did I say how lucky I feel? The day goes by so quickly, filled with easy work and lots of dog cuddling.

In front of Alice and Chilas' property is another one where clay houses and some kind of comunity are built. That's where Kevin lives, who usually helps us and who is Tanok's favourite playing partner, he calls him KABIN!!!


Sat Jan 27th:
Who needs a bathroom or shower when you can take a hot bath outside under the stars? Together Maik and I are soaking in the hot water, while candles flicker and the jungle night around us takes a deep breath. Yep, solid choice of place!


Sun Jan 28th:
Driving the bumpy road into dowtown to go to the market, and we're shopping like savages. As we inquire the price for a pumpkin, the vendors just give it to us for free. Even Chilas is surprised, me too, though, really, the people here are always super friendly. Did you know that Chiapas, the state we're currently in, is one of the poorest in Mexico?


Mon Jan 29th:
The sun is on holiday and left us with slight rains and cold winds. But there's always enough work to be done inside and a warm fire at the end of the day. Also maybe it's the hard work, but the vegetarian/ vegan food Alice always makes is so yummy, I start wondering what I used to need a fridge for. Also every unexpected guest I view with suspicous eyes in case they stay for dinner and we have to share our chapatis.


Tues Jan 30th:
The whole crowd goes off to collect firewood in a steady drizzle, but chopping off branches keeps us warm. We pass by 2 horses and the foal looks at me curiously, I feel like establish a connection and that we'll be best friends... Look how it stares at me with big eyes, unmovingly! Then the foal starts peeing and runs away after, maybe laughing a little at me from the distance.


Wed Jan 31th:
Full moon and it's energy is good for temascal, the Mexican steam bath. At our neighbor's place, lava stones are heated up in a fire and then brought into a small igloo-like house, where we pour water on them and sing hippie songs, sweating and admiring the sparkles and the fine smell of pine sap.


Thur Feb 1st:
Painting the kitchen walls inside with a mixture of chalk and water. Incredible difference and impressive how you nature seems to supply everything you need.

Suddenly a whole lot of ants appear out from the woods, surrounding a house in hundreds of thousands like moslems the Kabah. We keep a close eye on them, fearing for our unprotected food, but they just pass by, maybe looking for another home.

Fri Feb 2nd:
One of these nights where Chilas, Kevin, Maik and I stay up late, hanging out in the new or old kitchen, and also Alice joins after Tanok is sleeping. The language barrier between our pequeño español and Chilas' little English is easily overcome by two dice-like pigs in a frisbee, walking barefoot over wine while smoking some churros and sipping mezcal.

Sat Feb 3rd:
After half a day of work, the family, Kevin, Maik and us go on a small hike in the hills around us. Off the beaten track, through the bushes and over a fence we walk, trees are climbed and a baby mouse is saved from our dogs' fangs who were sniffing in a hole. Without a plan and taking some detours, we make it back to the house just for sunset.

Sun Feb 4th:
After smoking out some hornets (and our clothes) to keep them from building a nest in the ceiling in our room, Maik and I go down to Teopisca with our farmers, who continue on to San Cristobal where they live the other half of the week, so we'll look after the rancho until their return on Thursday. But first it's market and internet time! The quesadillas we eat on a food stand near the market are accompanied with free drinks and a nice chat with the owners, who invite us to their home later. And if we thought this was the highlight of the day, the pearls of Mexican friendliness had another treasure in the human form of Augustin, friend of Chilas. As Maik and I wanted to watch the Superbowl and thought about spending the night in a hotel, Chilas just asked his friend and drew us a map how to get to his place. So we were honored with the big flat screen from the bed room, a piece of cake and the general hospitality of Augustin, who we hadn't met before and who doesn't even care about American Football. Imagine taking in 2 foreign Mexicans so they can watch a boring sport in your home, because that's the level of friendliness here!

Mon Feb 5th:
The first day alone on the farm goes well, we work in the walls with good tunes, have a nice lunch with Kevin and others from the community and spent a ridiculously romantic evening in front of the fire, taking turns making the cat purr and listening to long forgotten music on my mp3-player.


Tue Feb 6th:
Maik's stomach decided at night: this food shall pass! He spent half the night feeding semi-processed food to the dogs and the day in bed while I did the laudry, sewed clothes, cooked food and -don't worry, feminists- started organizing the compost. I was a tiny bit worried about him since we were alone, without phone or medicine, but Kevin showed me a plant to make tea with that helps with digestion problems. Either it did or it was only a sun stroke, but Maik was better in the afternoon and we even had dinner together. I made chapati and black beans that were still a bit hard... (cause here they don't come in cans, ya know)

Wed Feb 7th:
That's today. Or at least the day I started writing this. Maik is fine again and we've walked down the hill for 30mins to do our ritual of buying a cup of fresh orange juice for less than 1euro and then settling in an internet cafe. We've tried a few but it's a small town and the connection is slow.

*I haven't really been able to upload many photos to my website, it takes an hour for 10, so let's hope the SD card survives until we're back somewhere better connected... But still there'll be a new album of Chiapas soon, if you want the photos of Palenque and San Cristobal before the stories.
For now, here are some mobile impressions of our paradise:

entrance to the farmhouse

the new kitchen

our room from outside

garden behind the house

after breakfast on the stream

coolest hot tub in Mexico

chopping firewood

with inspirational Chilas and Alice

The couple lazily lies but time flies

Wait, it's been only 3 weeks since New Year's and the last post here? In this time-twisted alternative reality we call traveling, it feels like 2 months have passed. Slow and lazy days are followed by eventful ones, usually leaving me without a grasp what day it is today. But I've talked about this before, let's rather go back to what happened after Christmas and until Merida.

Without a guide book, we just rely on the tips of fellow travelers about what places to see. In Tulum someone said, the ruins of Calakmul are a real hot spot, totally worth the isolated location and not crowded by tourists yet - but you need your own car because taxis are expensive. We ignored the last part of the advice and headed to the tiny village of Conhuas (60kms away from Calakmul) by public transport again.

We didn't find an ATM on the way and only a rather expensive cabana in Conhuas (40€/night), but the owner Mimi was very helpful and laughed at my strange approaches on the Spanish language. As many Mexicans before she was happy I even tried and also said how well I was speaking. Well... On a walking tour around the village we organized a taxi to Calakmul for the next morning at the top price of 60€, counted our cash and just had enough for buying some beer. Later we played frisbee with 11 year old Misael at the cabanas and had a small affordable dinner. Then Mimi told us about a Mecican couple going from here to the ruins by car the next morning, who would be willing to take us. Now aren't we lucky bastards?

The Calakmul ruins turned out to be as interesting and relatively empty as we were told, and also the statement "better have your own car" wasn't exaggerated as getting to the place means a 1,5 hrs drive through the jungle from the main road. We saw some monkeys up in the trees, different bigger and smaller birds and another tiny fox, enough to keep up our excitement and wander through the large area for over 4hrs. The experience was slightly spoiled because silly me forgot her ibuprofen and since sun and workouts aren't helping migraines, Maik had to climb the last temple by himself. When Maik and I returned to the parking lot to meet up with the Mexican couple, their car was gone. We realized they had said to leave at 12 (which sounds like "doze") and not 2 ("dos"). So much for my great Spanish skills... Now panic settled in. How do we get out of here? I swallowed down the urge to cry, argued a little with Maik about why he hadn't listened more carefully because he's better understanding numbers, until caving in, putting out our thumbs and leaving it to destiny. Surely after 10mins a car with 3 young Mexicans stopped and took us back to Conhuas, chatting along the way and having a good time. They suggested Champoton as a place worth a visit, so that's where Maik and I went next.

Now some summaries about the rather unexciting following days, can't drain my memory for details or even my own patience for endless reports of every little adventure.

Champoton: not worth a visit because nothing there, except a nice big market and many old VW Beetles making us wanna buy one and drive around Mexico with it.

Campeche: pretty with colourful houses and a waterfront, but no beach. Stayed in a good hostel with roof terrace and kitchen, but New Year's was rather quiet and we mostly entertained ourselves reading a lot, searching for book stores and eating yummy churros.

Edza: the ruins near Campeche were 

worth a look but the encounter with a guide called Elvis de Jesús, showing us where to find the colectivo back to town, was my real highlight.

Santa Elena: purely black and white experience for me, because we found a place to camp, which was in a beautiful green, jungle-like Inn with pool, but I also involuntarily donated my smartphone to the internet café...

Ok, this was bound to happen I believe. One of my New Year's resolutions was to spend more quality time with myself. So the new year came and took away my phone, or maybe I left it subconsciously to make it easier to focus on myself. Or probably I'm just stupid. When I noticed it was gone, I went back to the café but noone had seen it. Of course, there was panic. Then anger,

frust and sadness. I am disabled!! Cut off from the world, from my friends ... Also what will the new owner do with all the information on my phone? The last photo I took had been Maik's naked butt in the pool, and the explanation for this isn't helpful: it's a tradition and was gonna be a postcard to friends.

Well, about 30mins after my loss, I felt coming to terms with it, accepting the situation as unchangeable as bad weather. It must have been the level of relaxation you only get when traveling, because I bet if I'd lost my phone at home, a feeling of catastrophe would have me speaking about monsoons instead. Also because my ankle was almost back to normal, I reminded myself how lucky I was being healthy. So go and have fun with my f*cking phone, Santa Elena!

Oxkutzkab: small Mayan town with huge market, nice hotel and pool again, bad pizza and no photos of a stunning cave with stalagmites used as drums because I forgot my camera (in the hotel room!!!). Highlight was the only real café being opened up in the morning just for us, so we had real coffee and a nice chat with the young owner. 

Mayapan: ruins on the way to Mérida, left our bags at the entrance and were the only people amongst ancient stones and countless lizards.

Mérida:

Maik and I are still in one piece, no major complaints healthwise and finally couchsurfing, which is of course fantastic and interesting, but above all nice to not be a customer. One reason I don't like staying in hotels and sometimes even hostels is that there are so many services I'd rather do myself, like cleaning up or making my bed. Personal space is something really important to me and while traveling I very often only have my bed to retrieve to when wanting some peace and quiet. So someone else coming into 'my' room and messing with my organized chaos intimidates and upsets me, especially when the rests of our pizza are thrown away...! Maybe caring so much about personal space is mostly infueled by my ego and therefor an issue to be worked on, but there are other things higher up on my to-do-list.

Like not being distracted by a phone! It was going well without one, apart from the times I stole Maik's or missed messaging with my friends. The goal to not get a new one until my birthday was slowly shrinking, despite finding creative alternatives to a phone's application like a stopwatch when doing fitness - just use a microwave!

Ok, this has already been a long post, so Merida highlights include: meeting interesting people in a hostel, going to Cenotes (water caves) with one of them, couchsurfing, going to salsa night with some other couchsurfers and buying incredibly cheap fruits and veggies at the market.

Buying a night bus ticket to Palenque (Chiapas) for January 14th was the end of Yucatan for Maik and me, and because I'm quite sure everyone else but us will be confused about where exactly we've been on the peninsula, I made a map!

Also I've reorganized our photos on my webpage and created 3 different albums for Quintana Roo, Campeche and Yucatan, so it doesn't take forever to load the pictures! 

Hope your eyes are enjoying the images now created in your minds as much as we love being in Mexico! After over a month here, we're well tanned, chilled out and soon to be broke. More stories will follow on our next Skype date!

Besos! :)

Calakmul

Conhuas

Santa Elena

Campeche

Ednza

Road to Santa Elena

Kabah

Grutas near Oxkutzkab

Coffee addicts and savior

Mayapan

Mérida

nachts sind die Tauben blind

These impressions of Mexico in general and from Christmas in details are for the most caring and loving person in my life, who has many skills but speaking English fluently isn't among them. Merry belated Christmas, mom!

Die Mexikaner! Endlich finden wir die Verkörperung des anderen Bruders von "nett", nämlich super freundlich. Das Lächeln vieler Leute hier scheint über Höflichkeit hinauszugehen, ohne dabei gekünstelt zu wirken - nimm das, USA! Vielleicht sind alle gut drauf, weil Weihnachten ist (war), weil ich ein Mädchen bin, oder weil die Sonne scheint. Oder es liegt gar am scharfen Essen, dass einem schon mal die Mundwinkel in die Höhe jagt?

Apropos Essen! Bisher bin ich zufrieden damit, außer es ist zu scharf oder es gibt Kaktus, denn der stachelt nicht, nein er schleimt! Glaubt es oder nicht, das mexikanische Bedürfnis zu würzen macht selbst vor Kaffee (café de olla) und Bier nicht halt. Richtig, es gibt salzig-würziges Bier (michelada), was im Gegensatz zu vielen Pilses und Lagern wenigstens Geschmack hat.
Als Kaffeefanatiker warte ich noch auf meinen Aha-Moment, da ich mich bisher viel zu oft mit löslichem Kram zufrieden geben müsste, welcher lediglich zu heiß-braunen Ersatzstoffen führte.

Woran ich mich immer noch nicht ganz gewöhnt habe, sind die Begrüßungsfloskeln "que tal?"/ "como estan?", also "wie geht's?", auf die man keine konkrete Antwort erwartet, genau wie in den USA oder Frankreich. Dennoch fühlt es sich komisch an, einfach nur das gleiche zurück zu fragen, und ich höre diese Stimme in meinem Hinterkopf, die sagt: "Antworte gefälligst, der Onkel hat dir eine Frage gestellt!"

Übrigens habe ich meine erste Begegnung mit den Uniformierten auch schon hinter mir. Und wer jetzt denkt, typisch Lia, große Klappe aber kein Blick für Staatsgewalt mit Schusswaffen, dann sind die Erwartungen übers Ziel hinausgeschossen. Denn musste ich den Polizisten noch nicht mal selbst bestechen! Aber von vorn: Lauren und ich waren abends nach unser Ankunft am Busbahnhof von Cancun vom Uber-Fahrer (Taxi) zu seinem Wagen geleitet und dort hinein verfrachtet worden, wobei eine Horde Polizisten um sein Auto stand und, weil er sie ignorierte,  laut rufend an die Scheibe klopfte. Es ist dunkel und wir sind eindeutig Touristen, da können schon mal Menschen und Moneten verschwinden, aber wir wollen doch zu unserem Airbnb mit Pool... Lauren und ich tauschen einen besorgten Blick der Kategorie "ob der Fahrer wohl ein gesuchter Verbrecher ist?" aus, da aber noch niemand seinen Revolver gezogen hat, bleiben wir sitzen. Schließlich gibt der Fahrer nach, macht die Tür auf und ein Polizist setzt sich auf den Beifahrersitz. Wir fahren in eine dunkle Gasse und ich denke: "das ist aber nicht die Richtung zum Pool", während Lauren neben mir vermutlich schon innerlich Abschied von der Welt nimmt. Dann wechselt etwas Geld den Besitzer, der Beschenkte verlässt den Wagen und wir sind 20min später am Pool. Tja, da hatte der Uber-Fahrer wohl Falsch geparkt als er uns abholen war, immerhin hat der nette Polizist die Sache gleich gelöst.

Achso, Weihnachten! Natürlich wollen alle wissen, was wir da gemacht haben. Maik und ich, so am Chillen an der Lagune, mächtig hübsch da mit türkis-blauem Wasser, Sonne, Palmen und Zelt mit Matratzen (#wasserdicht), in Bacalar, wo es nicht viele Läden gibt, also gab's auch keine Geschenke. Und kein aufwendiges Festmahl. Naja, ich habe am 24. meine Tage bekommen, dafür haben wir uns ein Zelt gekauft, ein Sieb zum Kaffee-selber-machen und Bier, aber die 1,2l Flasche. Bäm! Die Mexikaner feiern Weihnachten übrigens rein, so dass die ganze Nacht zum 1. Feiertag übelst laut Musik lief von den Nachbarn des Zeltplatzes. Überhaupt scheinen die meisten hier gegenüber intensiver Beschallung, auch in Klamottenläden oder Restaurants zB, völlig gleichgültig zu sein. 

Coolerweise liefen uns am Vorweihnachtsabend Shay und Atara aus Israel in der Campingküche über den Weg, so dass ich trotz meiner niedrigen Laufstärke (Knöchel-Mega-Aua, Verstauchung?) und anderen Defiziten einen tollen Tag im Kayak und beim gemeinsamen Abendessen hatten. Wieder mal haben wir Fremde getroffen und schon am nächsten Tag fühlt es sich an als ob man mit Freunden Urlaub macht. 

Leider waren wir am 1. Feiertag schon wieder unter uns, also Maik, die Migräne und ich. Erst am Abend kam besinnliche Stimmung auf, als wir draußen bei Kerzenschein und Lichterketten zu Abend aßen, Schweinewürfeln und Rommé spielten und ganz mit unserem untypischen Weihnachten im Einklang waren. Der Kitsch-Höhepunkt dann bei der Vorstellung, wie all unsere Freunde und Verwandten mit am Tisch sitzen, gemeinsames Lachen, gemeinsames Trinken, oh selig sei die lebhafte Erinnerung.

Nachts dann Sterne schauen am Wasser, die Romantik des Augenblicks ungetrübt, selbst von Gesprächsthemen wie: Können Vögel eigentlich im Dunklen gut sehen? Sind nachts die Tauben blind?

Es gibt noch viel zu entdecken, doch die restlichen (vergangenen und zukünftigen) Abenteuer haben auch noch Zeit bis nächstes Jahr. In diesem Sinne, viele Grüße aus der Vergangenheit und frohes Neues!

memory confetti

Aloha! It's supposedly Christmas and I'm too lazy to recap the time from Tulum until now, so I'm just gonna throw in some moments throughout that time. Not a best of, more like Polaroid-in-words from our backpacking lives.

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Hostels are easy places to meet new people, and so is the one in Tulum, with it's many benches and hang out areas. An older guy with a a Hawaiian shirt sits down at the table Maik and I occupy, his face is glowing red but he's got that sparkle in his eyes, that mischief. We start chatting and he tells us he's doing some kind of "research for his work" here, but he looks so relaxed like he hasn't worked in weeks.
I ask: "So how long have you been in town?"
Him: "10 days?! Two weeks?! What day is today?"
We laugh, but then quickly realize I have no idea what day it is.

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I really need to do laundry, because when I wanted to do it at Lauren's, there was a power cut. So we go to a lavandería nearby, our dirty clothes are weighed, we get a bill for less than 2€ and told to come back the next day at 7 PM to pick it up. The whole conversation is in Spanish and I'm kinda proud to mention I even made them understood that our towels aren't supposed to go in the dryer. Yay.
But when we go through our clean clothes the next day, my blue dress is missing! Nay. Not a huge deal, but I'm still upset. Of course I can't explain in Spanish what my problem is and that I suspect my dress to be in another bag, especially since we had some clothes in ours we've never seen before. Or maybe Maik wears white hotpants secretly, who knows!
I'm thinking, well, it's Mexico after all! And then I feel racist thinking that. And then I see that the hostel has a clothes exchange, featuring a somewhat fitting blue dress! How nice, I'm taking that one for free, especially after just donating some of clothes to a staff member. Well, now I'm thinking: the universe takes, the universe gives.

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The first day we arrive at the Tulum hostel, we meet Lee from the US, who's a chatty and embracing kinda guy, just randomly asking if we wanna hang out and share his herbs together. I smile, agree, and also wonder: how is it that same minded people always find each other without knowing? Again, there's a feeling of getting to a place and already having friends here... #facebook #spacehat #deepreflectivetalks #armyoflove

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As we sit in the garden of the hostel, a gecko shows up. There are lots of them but this one is black and somehow I think, oh-oh, this is not a good sign. Later in the collectivo on the way further south, I see the reflection of a knitted scorpion sitting besides the driver under the front window. Another bad sign, I'm afraid. Maik and I make it to the nature reserve alright and spent the rest of the day and the next one enjoying the quietness, swimming in the lagoon and even meeting a very happy family. It was a simply inspiring experience and I'm truly amazed by their joyful nature: they chat, laugh and tease each other the whole time, mom, dad and daughter, so I end up thinking they must have won the happy-family-jackpot! When we all climb the lookout tower, we even see a tucan, though it's far away, I'm very content.
The next day we chill even harder, taking a dip in the blue water, hiking through the jungle and then jumping into the lagoon again, because maaan are did we get eaten by mosquitos!! I must have hurt my foot because even while swimming I feel some pain in my ankle. But that's only the beginning... Unfortunately that night I feel ill and my food wants back out through the wrong hole. Yay, I'm sick and one long bumpy road away from anywhere. The next day I'm exhausted and don't wanna pack and leave, but it makes sense, so I pull myself together. My ankle hurts even more, so I can barely walk. Guess that makes two bad things and I don't like being right this time. And yet I feel back in touch with my intuition.

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So now we're in Bacalar, on a campground/ hostel with access to the lagoon, it's so pretty.

Just went I'm about to make a Skype call to Nadine, the power is off and so is the connection to far away Dresden. This and other occasions are the reason the socially addicted part of me is truly madly happy that I got a Mexican SIM card with 1 GB for WhatsApp! Maybe that again is the reason I haven't blogged much lately, because was in touch with many people, and above all, Maik is here now!

And because all of these are snippets from what already seems a long time ago, I'll better just post them and get on with happened on Christmas.

As usual, more pics in better quality (and even captions) are to be found at: parhelia.smugmug.com

Seems it never rains in Southern North America

And when it does, it snows! But let's tie things up:

So last time I posted was when I was still with Lauren and Alan in Monterrey. And I've been quite on the move since then! But before bragging about the white beaches and turquoise waters of Cancun and Tulum, I wanna sent out some love to the great people I met in Monterrey, and even to the city itself. To me it's always a huge win when coming to a foreign place and there having a friend already waiting to pick me up at the airport! Lauren and Alan generously shared their place and lives with me for quite a while. Not to forget their friends and also Alan's family, all of them were super friendly. Almost every Mexican I've met so far has been living up to the stereotype of friendliness I've made up about them...
During my last days in Monterrey, we went on an adventurous camping trip (ask about the 'bear' story next time we meet), to a family posada (which didn't look christmassy because some parts of the family are Jehova's witnesses) and climbing/ bouldering in a small room without designated routes, followed by a starry, starry night (ask for the... never mind).
I witnessed two miracle-like events in Monterrey: first was snow in town, which hadn't happened in about 20 years -  everybody went crazy but me because the houses are designed to keep the cold IN! The second was the national soccer final between the two Monterrey teams, which has never happened before - everybody went even crazier but not me because, well, it's soccer!

On Dec 12th, Lauren and I flew down South to warm and sunny Cancun, sending lots of jealousy invoking photos from the beach the next day. We chose airbnb and landed a big hit with a chilled host in a family-style mayan designed clay house with a frickin swimming pool in the yard... No mames wey! The next highlight was picking Maik up at the airport, though the place was designed in such a stupid way, that Lauren and I were basically forced to climb over a small fence to get to arrivals. After the happy reunion we drank beer by the pool, went to a tacos restaurant and took turns in the hammock on the balcony. Pretty much a solid 9 on the scale of first nights for Maik, I'd say.

So since Cancun is a top tourist trap, we left the next day and after some trouble being on the right side of the street for the 'collectivo' (taxibus), Lauren, Maik and I made it to nearby Puerto Morelos for some more beach time. We managed to get an appartment right across the ocean, which we only had to share with some ants and which also featured a huge terrace we occupied both nights, playing the ukulele and singing songs, you know, about life, love and the Pupsgesicht. Those were easy and lazy days, only to be ended abruptly when Lauren left early on Sat to fly back to Monterrey, while Maik and I went further down to Tulum.

Ah,  Tulum, a place popular amongst backpackers for it's pretty beaches and ancient ruins, of which we didn't see the latter because too much time spent on the former. First we stayed in a rented, leaky tent without mattresses for $500 (~23€) on a stormy, rainy night, but the mangrove jungle around and the beach only metres away from it made up for every inconvenience. At least for 2 nights, then we really needed to shower and there was no water because... something. The German girl at reception told me a company came in and tried to fix the water problem, but instead made it worse and then just left. I just laughed! And then we left to a hostel at the edge of town, which clearly shows I'm much less of a hippie sometimes than I make you believe... And I wanna say how I also forgot in all of my anxiety about being clean and organized that people there were very approachable, caring and sharing, without expecting something in return.

Leaving you with that thought of love and peace and smoke, I need a break and you some pictures! 

poem about adoring a place

This blog is supposed to be about love and music, tonight you'll get some beerlosophy on top of that. Wanna hear honest things about my life, apart from that oh-so-funny travel blabla, then let me crack open another Superior and put on the Cold War Kids for this one.




It's almost 3 am, Lauren and Alan went to bed hours ago while I'm wondering about my life between Edward Sharpe and Christine And The Queens. I had a funny cold day and an even better night, hanging out with Lauren at the colourful café downtown, talking forever about boys and relationships and why "we were so much cooler than the girls at school we tried to impress"! (Lauren is really smart!)
We made ourselves a tasty dinner and before starting a movie at home, I said: "Aren't we lucky? Don't we have such a luxurious lifestyle?" But as I just told my diary, I didn't feel lucky.

Do you ever need an excuse to get drunk? To alternate your sense of reality? Maybe I don't like that reality of not having made any real progress in the past 3 weeks since I've left home. Our even made the best of my time (like really enjoying being lazy, no, I didn't come here for that). Honestly, I gotta say I hardly achieved anything worth mentioning.
But what was the plan here, anyways?
Facing my fears? Finding out what to do with my life? Become a better person?
It's all bullshit!
No, I'm in Mexico because it's supposed to be warm and because some time ago I've met genuinely nice people who happened to have Mexican passports. Because I have a friend here and maybe I'll FINALLY learn Spanish at some point (it's not going buyn...erm... bien).

Am I running away from something? Did this trip ever serve any purpose other than escaping Germany and all the strings attached? Like predictability, rain instead of snow in December in particular and this mistrust towards "everything that's different than before, than how we've always done things" in general?

So the point I'm trying to get to its, despite being lucky and free and also in the place I've been wanting to go to since 2013, I'm not happy. Maybe because Maik isn't here. Maybe because it wasn't a challenge or achievement coming here. Maybe because I forgot or even killed that part of me that was pure happiness.

So even after a fun night out I can't get myself to appreciate my privileges. Even after spending an hour scribbling page after page, my journal doesn't explain this journey. And before the end of the night, the music still plays on shuffle, randomly playing the song I needed most, reminding me of home, my friends, long nights like this in Dresden, except that I wasn't alone.



It's 3.30am now, the wind is rattling on the window, my mind is tired and I'm still looking for an happy end to this post. My personal realization is that it always comes down to human connections. That I need to learn how to genuinely (and I mean: truly) open myself up to people and yet to learn how to stand up for myself against those who harm me.
Pah.
Basically I need to be myself without hating myself in the process.
It's kinda abstract this post. And I'm kinda drunk.
But fact is, the real challenge here is I need to, want to learn to love myself. No clue at what point I forgot to do that.



PS: I'm thinking of a place called Dresden, of people I used to to share these wicked thoughts with instead of having to find my own truth. Of Alex, who has the biggest loving eyes, seeing way beyond her own good. Of Niesel, who I never ceased to admire for always being true to herself. Of Basti and Toni, for going all the way down and up again. Of Nadine and Lissy for fighting their way through their own limits of strength. Of Julia, Judith, Jaaan, Atze, Nicole, Tim, Maria, Falko, Kevin, Vera, Sandy and all those unmentioned by name, who accidentally left a deep footprint in my heart. All you are ghosts of my past, reminding me somehow it doesn't only consists of failures.