flight..

The hills in San Cristobal are even more wonderful when experienced from bicycle handlebars and I imagine the whole city can hear my excitement.

se cayó

The rains have started in San Cristobal. At first they were sporadic and happened every few days. The past few nights, however, it has started to rain at about the same time, starting with a few splattering, fat drops and eventually growing into a deafening torrent, even drowning out Michael Jackson on the kitchen cd player. The rain can be isolating, trapping one in a cafe or a bedroom when not prepared, or it can be drawn around a group of folks like a warm, shared blanket bringing out stories and revelations. Last night we had such a moment, originally brought together for a cheap and warm meal, we then found ourselves stuffed with Joe's handmade tortillas and unable to leave the kitchen for the relentless rain, sounding much like billions of nails and tacks being flung onto our aluminum roof. We were all quite pleased to have each other's company and were all in happy agreement when Joe said one of his favorite things in the world was making and eating good food with good people. Can life really be so simple?

Lovely.

This past Sunday, after so many years wandering around Mexico, I had my first Mayan steam bath experience. We just happened to be walking down the street when some friends ran by and shouted, "Hey we're leaving for the temezcal, come on!" and it didn't take long for us to grab a towel and jump into a taxi with them, headed for a little mountain just outside a city. El Viejito was our guide (and he really wasn't old at all) and 14 of us crawled into a very low tent covered in plastic and cloth and crowded around a little hole made in the dirt. There were so many of us that it was impossible to sit without leaning a little bit on the people to either side of us and we had to be careful not to accidentally bump the steaming stones with our feet. Outside 2 careful fire tenders brought our guide hot stones and water and soon sweat was streaming in rivers from our pores in an amazing and deeply cleansing, not at all disgusting, way. Some folks played instruments and sang or clapped and others said brief prayers of thanks and by the time we all stumbled back out into the cool air of the outside we felt such a deep bonding among us that we all hugged and kissed one another, thanking each other just for sharing each other's presence. We shared fresh fruit and cool water and afterwards I took a long, peaceful nap. It was a beautiful experience, something I'd truly needed, and I'm hoping to go back again before I leave San Cris.