I made it to Oaxaca! The stuff of legends, of endless of travelers' tales, of sights and sounds. And indeed, Oaxaca (pronounced Wa-ha-ka) does not disappoint! It is a rich and dynamic city and has a very distinctive feel to it when compared to other Mexican municipalities. Oaxaca (both the city and the state) has one of the highest populations of indigenous people in Mexico (mostly of Zapotec descent) and this brings to the city such vibrancy, colour and life. Ancient traditions are blended with more contemporary ideas, bringing about a unique and fascinating culture, very much apparent as you wander the cobblestone streets of the city. As a result of Oaxaca's indigenous culture, the state is blessed with some of the best artisans in Mexico, and it was a struggle to refrain from buying all the beautiful and one-of-a-kind handicrafts found there, from hand woven clothing to jewelley made from jade and amber.
Oaxaca is also renowed throughout Mexico for its cuisine, of particular importance to me! Tlayudas, distinctive moles, and let's not forget Oaxacan hot chocolate - all delights found only in this one particular region. The hot chocolate is especially noteworthy.....made of pure cocoa, almonds and cinnamon, and then ground up and mixed with milk.....mmmm I have never tasted a beverage so satisfying in my life. I had at least one everyday I was there. Sometimes three or four.
Oaxaca also has another delicacy not found anywhere else - chapulines, or fried crickets. You can find them (and smell them, as they're cooked with a lot of garlic and spices) being sold on every street corner. One morning, as I waited for a bus, I wandered up to the nearest street stall and asked if they sold any hot chocolate. "Hot chocolate?" I asked. "Fried crickets," the pair responded. "Any chocolate though?" I asked again. "Crickets," they repeated, this time smiling and nodding their head, as if that made it a suitable replacement for hot chocolate. Finally, on the third try, I asked if they knew somewhere nearby where I could buy some hot chocolate. Their answer - "crickets". I decided I would wait for hot chocolate.
That same day I made my way to one of the surrounding villages for their weekly market. I do love markets and their lively, exhuberant atmosphere. I knew I was in for a real treat when I got out of the bus and saw a woman on a tuk-tuk like vehicle carrying a live goat in her arms. At first this market seemed quite small and plain. But as I began to walk through the stalls, its true nature became apparent to me - a massive, tarp covered labrynth with no seemingly beginning or end. The more I tried to find my way out the more I got sucked in, caught up in the pounds of fresh produce, handmade goods or endless amounts of sweets to try. The air was filled with the aroma of cilantro, freshly cooked tortillas and smoke from charcoal fires. It had an intoxicating, fiesta-like atmosphere, with voracious Mexican music playing from massive speakers perched on every third stall, children laughing, vendors yelling as they hawked their various goods, and women huddled together exchanging the day's gossip in hushed, but rapid voices.
As I walked through a backstreet of the market, I felt as if I had entered a petting zoo gone mad - baby goats trotted through the crowds and the air suddenly filled with the sharp, piercing noise of roosters' calls. Looking around, the ground was littered with chickens and roosters everywhere. Most were alive, some were already dead, but they were all headed for the same fate: someone's dinner plate.
Later, as I sat back and watched the chaos unfold in front of me, I began to better understand the role of the market in Mexico. They're so much more than a venue for commercial transactions - they're social events, sometimes the social event of the week. They're a special, prearranged time for people to get together, interact and build community. People shop, chat, eat, and just have a good time with their friends and family. They show such an honest side of a country and that is why I love them so much.
As I sat there one older woman asked me why I had came to Ocotlan that day. I told her I came for the market. "But why?" she pressed. I explained that I found them interesting. She was baffled, aren't there markets in Canada? But when I told her we only have supermercados (supermarkets), she just looked at me, with such sadness in her eyes. I think we could do with some more markets in Canada.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Informal couchsurfing, and some lessons learned
I left Mexico City heading south - destined for the fabled city of Oaxaca, but planning to stop for a day in Puebla on the way. It didn't particularly grab my attention, but being on the way, and a well-established spot on the gringo trail, I decided to check it out for a day. It would break up the trip anyhow.
On the bus a smartly dressed young woman sat next to me, and it wasn't long before we began to chat. To my surprise, my Spanish skills held up, and we were able to go beyond the routine superficialities that normally dominate my interactions with Mexicans. Her name was Jessica, she was 22, and she had recently finished law school and had just begun her career. It was clearly obvious that she came from a wealthy background - in addition to her expensive clothing, she carried that distinctive air about herself that most rich Latin Americans do. (It may just as well be the same with Canadians, but my interactions there are limited to the more commoner, middle class).
Jess came from a family of lawyers - her mother and father were both practicing lawyers and her younger sister was also studying law. The only exception to this was her brother, who was studying the noble craft of cosmetic surgery. I quickly got the impression that in deciding to study law, it wasn't so much of a choice for her - money and prestige dictated what profession she would choose. We talked for almost the entire bus ride, and soon discovered that we had some common interests. As much as we talked, however, she still couldn't wrap her brain around the idea of a woman traveling alone - a reoccuring theme I've been exposed to on this trip and others. As we neared Puebla she asked if I wanted to hang out with her that evening - she had a car, and she could show me around, take me to an inexpensive place to eat. "I'd love that," I responded. After all, my aim on this trip is to meet Latin Americans and try to understand their culture and life as best as possible.
We continued talking, and as we reached the outskirts of the city she grabbed me by the arm and asked if I wanted to stay with her family - I'd save money, there's lots of room and her family would love to have me as a guest, she explained. I didn´t even have to think about it. "Of course I would!" - how could I turn down the opportunity to stay with a Mexican family? Plus it would definitely help my budget. I agreed, but only after I made sure her family wouldn't be bothered by my presence. She quickly assured me it was the opposite, that they'd be thrilled to have me around.
When we reached the terminal Jess called her dad to come pick us up and eagerly told him about her new Canadian friend who was coming over for the night. As we walked to the car she informed me that her 11 year old brother spoke the best English in the whole family, so that if I had any problems with Spanish, he could help. "Great," I thought, as I had already used all the words in my Spanish vocab over and over and over.
We got in the car and introductions were passed around. It clearly became apparent that her little brother's English was extremely basic and that I was going to somhow have to stretch my Spanish through the night. But she was right in that they were all enthused to have me, as all 3 passengers in the car kept smiling and nodding at me as if I was a celebrity. On the way back to their house, Jess' dad stopped to make a call to the family matriarch and even threw the phone in my direction and hurriedly asked me to speak to his wife - in Spanish. While I can get by speaking Spanish in person, talking on the phone is a completely different story. I was lost after the fifth word and kept responding with "si, si." I had no idea what our brief conversation entailed, but I got the feeling I embarrassed myself slightly when the whole car burst out laughing when I finished.
As we reached their neighbourhood, my suspicions of their wealth were confirmed. Not only did they live in a gated community, but in one of the nicest houses I've seen in my life. By the time we got there I was starving, and to my pleasure, there was an extremely delicious (and luckily, vegetarian) meal waiting for us, prepared by their servant, Julie. I don't know why I was shocked that they had a servant - this is Mexico afterall, one of the most unequal countries in the world, where anyone with even a little money has domestic help, but it still unnerved me.
As I ate lunch with the family, I became progressively more uncomfortable with their relationship with Julie and the blatantly obvious power disparities between she and Jess´ family. It wasn't just the fact that they got her to do everything (and I mean everything - from serving the food to passing someone a napkin that was a few inches from their hand), it was the way they used their power over another human being for their personal benefit. Whether at the conscious or subconscious level, they knew that they had so much control over not just this one individual, but a whole strata of society, and they had no hesitations about exercising that control. While this family was so lovely and opened their home to me, this fact made me deeply uncomfortable and I had to politely refuse their invitation to stay for a few more nights. I know this depressing fact of life will continue even without my presence, but I couldn't willingly participate in it, not with a clear conscience.
So I stayed one night with this family, in my own little apartment that they used as their home gym, and got to witness firsthand a regular theme of Latin American life - deep, pressing inequalities between people and how that manifests itself in society. In this case it was a wealthy family, who could afford to send all their children to the best schools, who could study the professions that pay most lucratively, and thus could ensure their family remains at the top level of society. They can pay their help pennies, because desperation is rife and labour is cheap, and that effectively guarantees that Julie's children, like herself, will not be able to attend a fancy post-secondary institution and will never have the opportunities these people do. This is Mexico's vicious circle: the rich remain rich while the poor continue to suffer. As shocking as it was, I'm glad I got to see it. Now I just need to turn the tables and experience the other side somehow. Any ideas?
On the bus a smartly dressed young woman sat next to me, and it wasn't long before we began to chat. To my surprise, my Spanish skills held up, and we were able to go beyond the routine superficialities that normally dominate my interactions with Mexicans. Her name was Jessica, she was 22, and she had recently finished law school and had just begun her career. It was clearly obvious that she came from a wealthy background - in addition to her expensive clothing, she carried that distinctive air about herself that most rich Latin Americans do. (It may just as well be the same with Canadians, but my interactions there are limited to the more commoner, middle class).
Jess came from a family of lawyers - her mother and father were both practicing lawyers and her younger sister was also studying law. The only exception to this was her brother, who was studying the noble craft of cosmetic surgery. I quickly got the impression that in deciding to study law, it wasn't so much of a choice for her - money and prestige dictated what profession she would choose. We talked for almost the entire bus ride, and soon discovered that we had some common interests. As much as we talked, however, she still couldn't wrap her brain around the idea of a woman traveling alone - a reoccuring theme I've been exposed to on this trip and others. As we neared Puebla she asked if I wanted to hang out with her that evening - she had a car, and she could show me around, take me to an inexpensive place to eat. "I'd love that," I responded. After all, my aim on this trip is to meet Latin Americans and try to understand their culture and life as best as possible.
We continued talking, and as we reached the outskirts of the city she grabbed me by the arm and asked if I wanted to stay with her family - I'd save money, there's lots of room and her family would love to have me as a guest, she explained. I didn´t even have to think about it. "Of course I would!" - how could I turn down the opportunity to stay with a Mexican family? Plus it would definitely help my budget. I agreed, but only after I made sure her family wouldn't be bothered by my presence. She quickly assured me it was the opposite, that they'd be thrilled to have me around.
When we reached the terminal Jess called her dad to come pick us up and eagerly told him about her new Canadian friend who was coming over for the night. As we walked to the car she informed me that her 11 year old brother spoke the best English in the whole family, so that if I had any problems with Spanish, he could help. "Great," I thought, as I had already used all the words in my Spanish vocab over and over and over.
We got in the car and introductions were passed around. It clearly became apparent that her little brother's English was extremely basic and that I was going to somhow have to stretch my Spanish through the night. But she was right in that they were all enthused to have me, as all 3 passengers in the car kept smiling and nodding at me as if I was a celebrity. On the way back to their house, Jess' dad stopped to make a call to the family matriarch and even threw the phone in my direction and hurriedly asked me to speak to his wife - in Spanish. While I can get by speaking Spanish in person, talking on the phone is a completely different story. I was lost after the fifth word and kept responding with "si, si." I had no idea what our brief conversation entailed, but I got the feeling I embarrassed myself slightly when the whole car burst out laughing when I finished.
As we reached their neighbourhood, my suspicions of their wealth were confirmed. Not only did they live in a gated community, but in one of the nicest houses I've seen in my life. By the time we got there I was starving, and to my pleasure, there was an extremely delicious (and luckily, vegetarian) meal waiting for us, prepared by their servant, Julie. I don't know why I was shocked that they had a servant - this is Mexico afterall, one of the most unequal countries in the world, where anyone with even a little money has domestic help, but it still unnerved me.
As I ate lunch with the family, I became progressively more uncomfortable with their relationship with Julie and the blatantly obvious power disparities between she and Jess´ family. It wasn't just the fact that they got her to do everything (and I mean everything - from serving the food to passing someone a napkin that was a few inches from their hand), it was the way they used their power over another human being for their personal benefit. Whether at the conscious or subconscious level, they knew that they had so much control over not just this one individual, but a whole strata of society, and they had no hesitations about exercising that control. While this family was so lovely and opened their home to me, this fact made me deeply uncomfortable and I had to politely refuse their invitation to stay for a few more nights. I know this depressing fact of life will continue even without my presence, but I couldn't willingly participate in it, not with a clear conscience.
So I stayed one night with this family, in my own little apartment that they used as their home gym, and got to witness firsthand a regular theme of Latin American life - deep, pressing inequalities between people and how that manifests itself in society. In this case it was a wealthy family, who could afford to send all their children to the best schools, who could study the professions that pay most lucratively, and thus could ensure their family remains at the top level of society. They can pay their help pennies, because desperation is rife and labour is cheap, and that effectively guarantees that Julie's children, like herself, will not be able to attend a fancy post-secondary institution and will never have the opportunities these people do. This is Mexico's vicious circle: the rich remain rich while the poor continue to suffer. As shocking as it was, I'm glad I got to see it. Now I just need to turn the tables and experience the other side somehow. Any ideas?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
El Grande D.F., or cinco pesos!
Since I´m terribly behind on my entries (and really want to catch up), and since I don´t really know what to say about Mexico City, I´m just going to do some short notes on my reflections on the city and my experience there. As a side note, Mexico City is also called Mexico Distrito Federal, or Mexico D.F., or most commonly, ¨D.F.¨. I´ll probably do that.
- there are a lot of people in Mexico City. A lot. About 30 million of them. Think about that - it´s the entire population of Canada, concentrated into one city. Which makes for one crowded, congested, polluted city. There are people everywhere, at all times. The streets are crowded. The metro is crowded. Oh, the metro is sooo crowded. If you thought the C-Train at rush hour was bad, think again. That´s the Mexico City metro on off hours. And don´t think that people are polite about getting on and off - I´ve never been physically roughed around so much in my life.
- pollution is bad. Around 2pm on my first full day there, I thought it was getting cloudy and overcast. And then I realized that was just the smog. It was like a thick grey blanket covering the sky. I can only imagine what that does to your respiratory system.
- the historical centre is beautiful, and elaborate. Organ music constantly fills the air as people play for money, giving it a slightly charming feeling.
- you can buy almost anything, real or fake, legit or stolen. One street in particular, Madero, is filled with people illegally selling goods right on the sidewalk. It´s a constant cat and mouse game between the vendors and the special police set up to regulate them. One minute they´ll (the vendor) be perched up on a makeshift pile of cardboard boxes, yelling into a megaphone, and the next they´ll be scrambling to stash all their goods into a bag, or blanket, and hide them from the police. Two minutes later, they´re all set up again, back on the podium, yelling into the megaphone. Also on the metro. A second doesn´t pass on the subway without someone walking down the cars, yelling ¨cinco pesos¨and whatever they´re selling. No matter what it is they´re hawking, whether it be kleenex or candy, it is always cinco pesos. My favorite thing I saw being sold was a pack of intelligent tests.
- I saw all the regular big Mexican monuments, filled with the regular propaganda. I really enjoyed all the Diego Rivera murals scattered throughout the city - at the National Palace, at the Secretariat of Education, and of course, the many Diego Rivera museums.
- Mexico city has some really cool neighbourhoods - upper class, posh areas where the rich can get away from the poverty and pollution and pretend they don´t play a role in sustaining people´s misery. In particular, Coyoacan is really nice, especially on the weekend, when the elite from Mexico City fill its plazas and streets with their purebred dogs that cost more than they pay their servants in a year.
- Mexico City has a really famous cathedral, and like most colonial churches, is overly excessive and elaborate. The real irony lays in the fact that right beside it are the ruins of the Aztec Templo Mayor, the most significant and important temple for the Aztecs in their city of Tenochtitlán. The Spaniards destroyed this magnificent temple and used the stones to build their cathedral. Today you can see Aztec descendants performing dances and other ancient customs for tourists and wealthy Mexicans for money.
- the ruins of the city of Teotihuacan, located about an hour or so outside of D.F., are fabulous. The pyramid of the sun, the principal building in the ancient city, is the 3rd biggest pyramid in the world. Climbing to the top and enjoying the panorama was a really amazing experience.
- another traveler and I made a day trip to the very cute little city of Taxco, a couple of hours south of D.F. It´s most known for its silver, which is sold everywhere, for very cheap. But it´s also a very attractive place, fun to just wander around and explore. However, it´s a very popular holiday destination for chilangos (people from Mexico City) and we made the mistake of visiting on a Mexican stat holiday. When we showed up at the bus terminal to get a ticket back to the city, where all our bags were (and where we had paid for another night at the hostel) we were informed that they were all sold out. So I walked down the street, stopping every car and asking if they had any space for two people while my companion stood on the side of the road, mortified. I almost had one guy too, but his wife kept giving him the look of, ¨if you let this grubby looking girl into our car I´m going to divorce you.¨ Luckily for us, we met two other Brazilian girls in the same situation, and we shared a taxi back to the next biggest town, from where we were able to catch a bus back to D.F.
- I got to take a boat ride down the canals of Xochimilco, a slightly-Venice like suburb on the outskirts of Mexico City. Lanchas ply the canals, with other boats coming up selling all sorts of food and drinks and live mariachis offering their services. Afterward, walking the (concrete) streets of the city, I came across a pulque stand (a cloudy, slightly alcoholic drink made from the maguey plant, a speciality in Xochimilco), where I proceeded to enjoy a cup with the 70 year old town locals. After about an hour, some basic conversation and lots of laughing at my Spanish skills, I quickly realized that as much as some of Mexico can seem novel to me, I am just as much of a novelty to most Mexicans.
I think that sums up most of my time in Mexico City. It´s an interesting city, full of contrasts and oxymorons. I can honestly say I like it, but I wouldn´t spend a lot of time there again. It´s just too big, too polluted, and too obviously unequal. I started to feel my soul slowly being sucked away, and decided it was time to leave.
- there are a lot of people in Mexico City. A lot. About 30 million of them. Think about that - it´s the entire population of Canada, concentrated into one city. Which makes for one crowded, congested, polluted city. There are people everywhere, at all times. The streets are crowded. The metro is crowded. Oh, the metro is sooo crowded. If you thought the C-Train at rush hour was bad, think again. That´s the Mexico City metro on off hours. And don´t think that people are polite about getting on and off - I´ve never been physically roughed around so much in my life.
- pollution is bad. Around 2pm on my first full day there, I thought it was getting cloudy and overcast. And then I realized that was just the smog. It was like a thick grey blanket covering the sky. I can only imagine what that does to your respiratory system.
- the historical centre is beautiful, and elaborate. Organ music constantly fills the air as people play for money, giving it a slightly charming feeling.
- you can buy almost anything, real or fake, legit or stolen. One street in particular, Madero, is filled with people illegally selling goods right on the sidewalk. It´s a constant cat and mouse game between the vendors and the special police set up to regulate them. One minute they´ll (the vendor) be perched up on a makeshift pile of cardboard boxes, yelling into a megaphone, and the next they´ll be scrambling to stash all their goods into a bag, or blanket, and hide them from the police. Two minutes later, they´re all set up again, back on the podium, yelling into the megaphone. Also on the metro. A second doesn´t pass on the subway without someone walking down the cars, yelling ¨cinco pesos¨and whatever they´re selling. No matter what it is they´re hawking, whether it be kleenex or candy, it is always cinco pesos. My favorite thing I saw being sold was a pack of intelligent tests.
- I saw all the regular big Mexican monuments, filled with the regular propaganda. I really enjoyed all the Diego Rivera murals scattered throughout the city - at the National Palace, at the Secretariat of Education, and of course, the many Diego Rivera museums.
- Mexico city has some really cool neighbourhoods - upper class, posh areas where the rich can get away from the poverty and pollution and pretend they don´t play a role in sustaining people´s misery. In particular, Coyoacan is really nice, especially on the weekend, when the elite from Mexico City fill its plazas and streets with their purebred dogs that cost more than they pay their servants in a year.
- Mexico City has a really famous cathedral, and like most colonial churches, is overly excessive and elaborate. The real irony lays in the fact that right beside it are the ruins of the Aztec Templo Mayor, the most significant and important temple for the Aztecs in their city of Tenochtitlán. The Spaniards destroyed this magnificent temple and used the stones to build their cathedral. Today you can see Aztec descendants performing dances and other ancient customs for tourists and wealthy Mexicans for money.
- the ruins of the city of Teotihuacan, located about an hour or so outside of D.F., are fabulous. The pyramid of the sun, the principal building in the ancient city, is the 3rd biggest pyramid in the world. Climbing to the top and enjoying the panorama was a really amazing experience.
- another traveler and I made a day trip to the very cute little city of Taxco, a couple of hours south of D.F. It´s most known for its silver, which is sold everywhere, for very cheap. But it´s also a very attractive place, fun to just wander around and explore. However, it´s a very popular holiday destination for chilangos (people from Mexico City) and we made the mistake of visiting on a Mexican stat holiday. When we showed up at the bus terminal to get a ticket back to the city, where all our bags were (and where we had paid for another night at the hostel) we were informed that they were all sold out. So I walked down the street, stopping every car and asking if they had any space for two people while my companion stood on the side of the road, mortified. I almost had one guy too, but his wife kept giving him the look of, ¨if you let this grubby looking girl into our car I´m going to divorce you.¨ Luckily for us, we met two other Brazilian girls in the same situation, and we shared a taxi back to the next biggest town, from where we were able to catch a bus back to D.F.
- I got to take a boat ride down the canals of Xochimilco, a slightly-Venice like suburb on the outskirts of Mexico City. Lanchas ply the canals, with other boats coming up selling all sorts of food and drinks and live mariachis offering their services. Afterward, walking the (concrete) streets of the city, I came across a pulque stand (a cloudy, slightly alcoholic drink made from the maguey plant, a speciality in Xochimilco), where I proceeded to enjoy a cup with the 70 year old town locals. After about an hour, some basic conversation and lots of laughing at my Spanish skills, I quickly realized that as much as some of Mexico can seem novel to me, I am just as much of a novelty to most Mexicans.
I think that sums up most of my time in Mexico City. It´s an interesting city, full of contrasts and oxymorons. I can honestly say I like it, but I wouldn´t spend a lot of time there again. It´s just too big, too polluted, and too obviously unequal. I started to feel my soul slowly being sucked away, and decided it was time to leave.
Butterfly Madness!
A piece of info for you all: Butterflies are cool. But a million butterflies, that´s pure magic.
When I came to Mexico, I didn´t really have any set plans, or ideas of what I wanted to do. Honestly, I really didn´t know that much at all. But there was one thing I was determined to accomplish while I was here: visit the Monarch Butterfly Reserve. I told myself that I would not leave Mexico until I had done it. And my god, I am so glad I did.
Mexico is home to one of the world´s most interesting, yet least understood natural phenomena - the migration of millions of butterflies 6500km from Canada (and parts of the US) to Mexico. And in Mexico, they all congregate in the same area, a small patch of forest in the state of Michoacan, which is now a protected area. Millions of Monarch Butterflies in the same place at once? I had to go!
Originally I had wanted to camp, but seeing as I don´t have a tent, or a sleeping bag, and I couldn´t find any other travelers or couchsurfers brave enough to attempt it (at over 3000 meters, it´s mighty high, and mighty cold), I had to settle for staying in a cheap hotel in the nearest town and making a day trip of it.
I got to the reserve early (well, relatively early. 10:30am), made my way in, and paid for my mandatory guide, Jose (who spoke no English whatsoever). That was it. Off we went to see the butterflies!
The hike itself was nice, and I would have been happy even sans butterflies. Filled with beautiful views of rolling, lush mountains and that fresh scent that you only get in dense wooded areas, I was so happy to be outside again, exploring nature and all it has to offer. The weather was perfect: a clear sunny sky, and moderate temperatures of about 25C. I was in heaven.
After about an hour of hiking we began to see the first traces of the butterflies - an odd one here and there. At this sight, both myself and the other person hiking would get enormously excited, start pointing, and even start clapping like a bunch of seals performing at the aquarium. Jose, who has been doing this hike since he was a small child, would just give us a sly smile, as if he was thinking, ¨you have no idea what´s coming next¨.
We hiked on for a bit longer, and reached a big clearing, towered on all sides by green mountains. I initially thought this was our destination and that we had reached the end of the hike. Seeing a few dozen butterflies, I couldn´t help but feel initial pangs of disappointment. Was this what all the hype was about? Everyone talked about this life changing experience for 30 butterflies? Either I had become a really disillusioned traveler or everyone else had a very sad idea of ´magical´.
Luckily for me (and everyone else) this was not the grande finale of our hike. There was still the last final stretch. And that´s where it all really began.
As we began to ascend past the clearing, they began to appear. Unlike before, when they were just a few stray butterflies, they began to appear in much greater numbers. First dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, until finally the air was so saturated with butterflies that I had a hard time distinguishing individual ones out from the great orange and black mass that filled the sky. At least tens of thousands of butterflies were flying through the air simultaneously, so gracefully and elegantly. (With such a large number like that, you completely lose perspective. They may have numbered in the millions).
I could feel them brushing past me as they flew by, skimming the edges of my face, my hair and my neck. Suddenly I felt this light sensation tickling the fine hairs on my arm, and looking down, I see this tiny, beautiful creature resting on me. The feeling continued, and within seconds I had 4 or 5 butterflies on me at the same time. Looking around, I couldn´t believe I was still on planet Earth. It felt as if I had entered a seperate universe, a completely different realm not inhabited by humans, but by something much more powerful, by a force so connected with nature that for all your technological might and prowess, you feel completely powerless and ignorant. Compared to the power and beauty of all that surrounds you, knowing you are in the midst of one of Earth´s most captivating forces, you feel so insignifcant and small. I couldn´t help but feel incredibly humbled by nature´s awesome power.
But I was also taken over by a sense of calm and peace as I stared at these beautiful creatures around me, on me, and formed some sort of symbiotic relationship with them. This is a place where it is our turn to step back, to take a secondary role, and to take our cues from nature instead of trying to so hostiliy place our rules on it. This is a place where our rules don´t even make it past the front door. They mean nothing out there.
I spent over two hours up there, in awe and admiration of what was happening around me. Just soaking it all in, cherishing that moment as much as I could before it slipped away into the deeper annals of my memory. Connecting with nature and life around me as much as I could, before I had to slip away again into the grind of our realities.
I´ve never seen, or experienced anything so magical in my life. Magical. That´s the only word I can find that does it the least bit of justice. Nor have I felt so humbled by nature and its power. I can honestly say I left that mountain a different woman than the one who went up it.
When I came to Mexico, I didn´t really have any set plans, or ideas of what I wanted to do. Honestly, I really didn´t know that much at all. But there was one thing I was determined to accomplish while I was here: visit the Monarch Butterfly Reserve. I told myself that I would not leave Mexico until I had done it. And my god, I am so glad I did.
Mexico is home to one of the world´s most interesting, yet least understood natural phenomena - the migration of millions of butterflies 6500km from Canada (and parts of the US) to Mexico. And in Mexico, they all congregate in the same area, a small patch of forest in the state of Michoacan, which is now a protected area. Millions of Monarch Butterflies in the same place at once? I had to go!
Originally I had wanted to camp, but seeing as I don´t have a tent, or a sleeping bag, and I couldn´t find any other travelers or couchsurfers brave enough to attempt it (at over 3000 meters, it´s mighty high, and mighty cold), I had to settle for staying in a cheap hotel in the nearest town and making a day trip of it.
I got to the reserve early (well, relatively early. 10:30am), made my way in, and paid for my mandatory guide, Jose (who spoke no English whatsoever). That was it. Off we went to see the butterflies!
The hike itself was nice, and I would have been happy even sans butterflies. Filled with beautiful views of rolling, lush mountains and that fresh scent that you only get in dense wooded areas, I was so happy to be outside again, exploring nature and all it has to offer. The weather was perfect: a clear sunny sky, and moderate temperatures of about 25C. I was in heaven.
After about an hour of hiking we began to see the first traces of the butterflies - an odd one here and there. At this sight, both myself and the other person hiking would get enormously excited, start pointing, and even start clapping like a bunch of seals performing at the aquarium. Jose, who has been doing this hike since he was a small child, would just give us a sly smile, as if he was thinking, ¨you have no idea what´s coming next¨.
We hiked on for a bit longer, and reached a big clearing, towered on all sides by green mountains. I initially thought this was our destination and that we had reached the end of the hike. Seeing a few dozen butterflies, I couldn´t help but feel initial pangs of disappointment. Was this what all the hype was about? Everyone talked about this life changing experience for 30 butterflies? Either I had become a really disillusioned traveler or everyone else had a very sad idea of ´magical´.
Luckily for me (and everyone else) this was not the grande finale of our hike. There was still the last final stretch. And that´s where it all really began.
As we began to ascend past the clearing, they began to appear. Unlike before, when they were just a few stray butterflies, they began to appear in much greater numbers. First dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, until finally the air was so saturated with butterflies that I had a hard time distinguishing individual ones out from the great orange and black mass that filled the sky. At least tens of thousands of butterflies were flying through the air simultaneously, so gracefully and elegantly. (With such a large number like that, you completely lose perspective. They may have numbered in the millions).
I could feel them brushing past me as they flew by, skimming the edges of my face, my hair and my neck. Suddenly I felt this light sensation tickling the fine hairs on my arm, and looking down, I see this tiny, beautiful creature resting on me. The feeling continued, and within seconds I had 4 or 5 butterflies on me at the same time. Looking around, I couldn´t believe I was still on planet Earth. It felt as if I had entered a seperate universe, a completely different realm not inhabited by humans, but by something much more powerful, by a force so connected with nature that for all your technological might and prowess, you feel completely powerless and ignorant. Compared to the power and beauty of all that surrounds you, knowing you are in the midst of one of Earth´s most captivating forces, you feel so insignifcant and small. I couldn´t help but feel incredibly humbled by nature´s awesome power.
But I was also taken over by a sense of calm and peace as I stared at these beautiful creatures around me, on me, and formed some sort of symbiotic relationship with them. This is a place where it is our turn to step back, to take a secondary role, and to take our cues from nature instead of trying to so hostiliy place our rules on it. This is a place where our rules don´t even make it past the front door. They mean nothing out there.
I spent over two hours up there, in awe and admiration of what was happening around me. Just soaking it all in, cherishing that moment as much as I could before it slipped away into the deeper annals of my memory. Connecting with nature and life around me as much as I could, before I had to slip away again into the grind of our realities.
I´ve never seen, or experienced anything so magical in my life. Magical. That´s the only word I can find that does it the least bit of justice. Nor have I felt so humbled by nature and its power. I can honestly say I left that mountain a different woman than the one who went up it.
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