Chiapas

The last stop before leaving Mexico was the state of Chiapas. As we crossed the Pacific coast of Oaxaca one could not stop to admire the beauty of the mountainous tropical beauty that inhabited the land. As we drove through the mountains, it was impossible to ignore the cuts in the rock made by the road, as my nauseated body ached with sympathy . Monsoon Season had ended and the damage made by the storms was visible by the conditions the road was in. There were collapsed bridges, half missing roads from mountains slides, huge holes in the ground, half paved roads. As we drove, we felt thankful of the Volkswagen's speed capacity, it was a cruiser car and not a race car, we were safe. As we got further to the south of Chiapas, nature became a tropical pine forest; In San Critstobal de las Casas, we were surrounded by the Cerro Huitepec, home of many of the Zapatista's villages of the region. Nestled and hiding into the long road in between the mountains of the Huitepec, one could find small Mayan crop villages and farms that keep the economy moving in the highlands of Chiapas. Within the city life of San Cristobal's downtown permeated a clash of economy systems that was so obvious that one couldn't avoid and ignore the truth and reality of an indigenous population in a globalized world. I wanted to be part of the community and the culture, there was a side of me that was ready to leave all of my ideas of privilege behind and find wisdom in helping others; for me it would be working with street vendor children. I was privileged to be able to collaborate with a group of two amazing Spanish artists, Carlos and Dario, both taking me under their wing and treating me like family. We had puppet making workshops with the street children and the expression in their faces had a glow that radiated happiness. For me, a wonderful and priceless experience.