So Long, Mexico!

As I said in my last post, I did go back to Primero to stay with my family for a couple of days; we ended up going to some ruins and I finally went to the infamous "river" that Isaura kept inviting me to go to; it was a bit dirty, the women had to wash clothes, you couldn't really swim, and there was a half-destroyed bridge upstream so I had to watch out for the metal spikes sticking out the water from it! I also met Isaura's dad because he took us to the ruins in his truck, both of which have interesting stories. The father left her mom when she was little for another women in a nearby town, and now has two wives simultaneously and each of them have kids! One of the wives came with her two little girls; all were quiet and not very friendly and gave me strange looks. And the truck is called the "Sueno Americano"- her father tried to cross the border 4 times without luck, and decided to have a laugh about it by naming his truck after his American Dream.

Unfortunately I was in a weird mood (as usual)- the quiet one that usually is the calm before the storm, so I wasn't as bright and sunny as I would have liked to be for the last couple of days with them. And to add to it, I bought all the women beer when the men where out fishing at night and of course was the only one to get kind of drunk! Add to that watching part of Apocolypto, equally gory and sad made me both mute and deaf. In the morning it got worse- first we watched part of a movie about a dysfunctional family whose daughters were constantly beaten, and then a movie where a happy couple got in a car accident and the woman dies. All my feelings bubbled to the surface a few minutes before my bus left as I was showing pictures of my loved ones to Isaura, and BAM! the hose came loose and I was sitting there in the dining room sobbing, scared to travel again, sad to leave, thinking about how much I love my family and friends and just how crazy and wonderful and delicate life is, how everyone shares that. Needless to say, it was intense, though not in a bad way.

After hugging Isaura, German, Kevin, and Brandon goodbye (while fighting back tears), I accompanied some members of the community to a little market they go to every 2 Saturdays to sell their wares, and from there headed to Papantla for the last time to catch the bus to Cuetzalan, a little town I had heard about the day before from Lindsey and a few others- it was supposed to be really beautiful, and I thought, "Hey, what the hell! I need another adventure," so off I went in a questionable bus on an even more questionable road for three hours, cursing each bump for the sake of my poor bladder. As we hit the hills and started moving upward, the climate and landscape changed- it became more like a cloud forest, with beautiful views and rock formations. I got to town in the rain, and a boy from the bus led me to my hotel, which was run by a group of indigenous Nahual women (who weren't very friendly, actually). Lonely and feeling the shock from changing places again and the heaviness of the day brought a cloud of despair above my head; thus, I decided to go get a beer and some food to try and clear it away.

In the restaurant I chose quite a few women were peddling their wares, a practice I find equally annoying and shameless because they use ruthless guilt techniques on the unsuspecting diners. A man came up a little later, selling some pecan pies, and we got to talking. It turns out he was a guide and invited me to go to some waterfalls and a nature/coffee trail the next morning. I had a good feeling about him; he was friendly and honest and just seemed like a good person, so I decided to join them. The morning came and I met the guide (Delfino), but the couple didn't show up. We headed off to the trail, which is actually a combo organic coffee farm/conservation area, and our guide knew a ton about the local flora, so it was a wonderful trip. After a cup of coffee Delfino and I headed to the waterfalls; they were gorgeous and the little pools below tempted me to jump in. The trail was a bit dangerous going down as we had to climb down a trail made of tree roots; Delfino, a funny old fart, kept saying, "Are you sure you're ok, you're not going to fall?" every 3 minutes, trying to take me hand to lead me, sincerely concerned. In the end though, I just bounced along and it was he who fell with a high-pitched squeal. We bumped into the disappeared couple at the falls, who turned out to be really nice and the guy may come visit Austin, then Delfino and I walked the rather long was back to town. It was worth it, though; rocks jutted out of fields full of maiz and beans, the views were great, and Delfino and I got some more time to talk and I learned more about the area.

We got back to town, I bought some coffee, and he lead me to the hotel to keep talking my ear off even though I was tired from a full day and was ready to head to the bano de tamascal, a little hut made of palm that is basically a sweat lodge.

TO BE CONTINUED