Bearded Brutes

Carved in stone, on the gates of the first house in Merida, are the bearded figures of  Francisco Montejo, and Francisco Montejo (The son), the city founders.  They stand proud, holding a sword, their feet firmly planted on the heads of suffering prisoners.  In the Palacio de Gobierno, large dramatic murals depict bearded Spanish Conquistadors, spearing, burning, quartering, and in many other ways, torturing, the vanquished Mayan people.  When a local Mayan told me that the locals hate the original Spanish (from Spain) accent (Sh instead of S),  I realized that the resentment is still strong, just lying beneath the surface.  I did not want to associate myself with the oppressors, and since I cannot change my race, I decided that the least I could do to be on the side of Good, is remove my beard

Good Man

Bad Man

The truth is that I had to shave the beard in order to Scuba-dive next week, and there was nothing better to do on a rainy day in Merida.

Campeche Cuisine

Cochinita Pibil

Walking in historic Campeche, is like walking in a fairy-tale.  Tall walls surround narrow cobblestone streets, which lead to the town square and a photogenic two-towered cathedral.  The colonial houses are freshly restored, and there are no electrical wires in sight.  The walls were built to repel the pirates of the Caribbean who repeatedly pillaged the town.  Now, the fortifications house museums and art exhibits. Campeche may also be the cleanest city I have visited.  Even the trash bins are clean.  The atmosphere was relaxing, the sea breeze was soothing, and our hotel was comfortable (and clean).  We lingered here for three days.

I soon learned that Campechanos take pride in their cuisine.  I try not to frequent tourist-oriented restaurants, and instead, Adi and I walked to Plaza Central, where street vendors offer the local delicacies. We sampled Tamale Colado (Vegetables, corn flour, and chicken, steamed inside a banana leaf), Aztec Cake (Layered tortillas, tomato sauce, and meat), and the Queen's Arm (sliced meat loaf).  We enjoyed two out of the three dishes.  To our disappointment, we could not find the "must-eat" Pan De Cazon among any of the plaza vendors.

At the atmospheric Bar Colonial, which until recently was a man-only (not gay) cantina, we struck a conversation with Manuel, a very stout fellow, who looked like, and turned out to be, a chef.  We told him about our quest for Pan de Cazon, and without hesitation he directed us to Marganzo, a high-end tourist restaurant.  He apologized for the suggestion,  yet insisted that their food is good.  The next night, sitting at a candle-lit table, we ordered the celebrated dish (Tortilla stuffed with baby shark meat and served on a spicy tomato sauce.)  The presentation was aesthetic, but it tasted like tough, overcooked, and over salted tuna.  However, not all babies are bad.  For brunch we had Cochinita Pibil (Baby pork roasted overnight in an underground oven.)  The meat is so tender that it is de-boned with a spoon, and it almost melts in your mouth.  Very satisfying.

Reviewing our Campeche culinary experiences, we concluded that we had the best meal at a roadside hut, on the way back from an ancient Mayan city.  A young Mayan woman, sliced us a watermelon which she grew in a patch right next to her hut.  It was fresh, sweet, and juicy.  We devoured it, and for desert we had corn on the cob which grew just on the other side of the hut.

I like to travel because:  7.  I get to taste interesting local foods.  Some of them are delicious.

Airplane ride

Zuzul Spring

For a week or more before our departure, as the excitement of the trip swelled within me, I wanted to write a short blog titled '10 Reasons why I like to travel'. I didn't write it because my life was just too busy. Now that we embarked on our voyage to the Yucatan Peninsula, I may list those reasons, as they occur.

I like to travel because: 10. At home, my time is filled with 'stuff'. I am too busy, even though I have no real obligations.



As the road winds up the steep Sierra Norte, the scenery changes from the arid Oaxaca hills, to a dense pine forest. As it comes down on the other side, towards the Atlantic Ocean, the road becomes steeper and even more winding.  As the elevation drops, the pine forest turns into a deep-green, moist, tropical jungle. It took me more than four hours to drive the one hundred miles to Balenario Zuzul. It took me less than four minutes to change, and dive into the cool clear water. The Zuzul spring wells up into a a deep blue pool, which the adjacent village developed into a bathing facility. I practiced my newly-acquired freestyle, swimming first in the pool, then into the stream that flows swiftly from the spring to join a larger river. I swam no further than the point where local women stood, knee-deep in the water, washing the family laundry, then returned upstream to the pool. Out of breath, yet happily refreshed, I no longer felt the car sickness that had accumulated over the last four hours.
More swimming, and a beer, and we were ready to continue our trip, yet the smiling Chinanteca woman, who is in charge of the facility, had another suggestion.

"Why don't you stay here?" she asked, "Today is the village Fiesta day, and there will be a dance later tonight."

It took us only seconds to make that decision, and within minutes we were in a wooden cabin (No fan, no hot water), with a wonderful view of the river.

After dark, the grassy clearing in front of the church was transformed into a small amusement park where locals, as well as visitors from the surrounding villages, busied themselves lifting their children onto the miniature rides. Meanwhile, crews were preparing the adjacent basketball court with hi-tech audio and light equipment that they unloaded from three huge semi-trailers. Walking along the rides, Adi saw kindergarten-age children, sitting inside small airplanes, that were flying in a circle, .
"This looks like fun." she shouted, overcoming the ear-piercing sound-checks of the dance band, "I want to do it"

The woman who is afraid of any kind of amusement park thrill, finally found her level. Unfortunately, the ride operator thought she was too heavy. Instead, he pointed to the small roller coaster. Adi went on a spree. She rode the roller coaster, then the bumper cars, then the carousel. At that point the airplane operator changed his mind and invited her over. She could not fit inside the cockpit, and sat astride the toy airplane. She was the only rider, and the operator, sensing her joy, went with the flow, making the ride go faster and faster till the airplanes were flying in an almost horizontal arc. Adi screamed in delight, her grey-streaked hair streaming in the wind. She then bravely let go of the chain and flew round and round, in the Titanic pose.

Next morning

I like to travel because: 9. Each day of travel presents me with at least one surprise. Most of these surprises are delightful.