We leave the baking, dusty and windy Isthmus of Oaxaca behind and encounter many military check points, we are waved through as the stopping and searching will happen on the return trip to Oaxaca from Chiapas. Talia is enamored by a large transportable machine that one drives through and has metal detectors within to warn of arms. We tell her that she has to wait for that exciting prospect when we head back to Oaxaca. On the other side of the road young Mexican military search for drugs, weapons and of course immigrants. Our strategy for engagement throughout the road trip is gregarious conversation and inevitably the serious, baby faced young men soften, start to laugh, remove mirrored sunglasses and look into our eyes to tell us their own jokes.
We stop in the colonial town of Chiapas de Chorzo where preparations are well under way for Semana Santa-Holy Week. We line dance in the Zocalo while a brass band croons the tunes. Hippies from DF (Mexico City) juggle and swallow swords of fire as we dine on tacos in an open air comedor and review our travel plans: a counterclockwise triathalon involving driving, hiking and swimming through waterfalls and rivers, magical mayan ruins, heavenly and humid lacandona selva, with great hopes of glimpsing the royal guacamaya flying with its beloved in the tall cieba trees. We were not let down, our trip delivered …and some.
Our Lonely Planet guide provided the necessary guidance to get us to Las Nubes/The Clouds a small community of 60 campesino families who had been lured from their arid milpas a couple decades ago to settle lands in the southern state of Chiapas close to the boundary waters with Guatemala. We arrived at the lush cascades of Las Nubes to find that many other Mexican families had the same as idea as us, no surprise as the week of semana santa is notorious for national vacationers in search of water. While it was heartening to see so many game campers crowded into the campground there we decided to go with the fellow back in the village who had asked if we wanted to see Las Brisas/The Breezes, another spot on the river 8 km down the road and bound to be more secluded.
As dusk turned to a twinkling star filled night we followed the pot holed dirt road driving at a speed of barely 8 km an hour to an unmarked turn off and steep rocky decline where we encountered the bare foundation of what could possibly become a cabana at some unknown future date. A skinny and sweaty man appeared from the chanting frog and singing insect filled jungle with a machete in his arms while greeting us with a wide gapfilled smile. Yes, yes this is a campground and yes yes tomorrow there will be a comedor, so sorry there is no food here tonight. Despite feeling mislead and hungry, our spirits were uplifted by his contagious enthusiasm. Whether his predictions would bear fruit or not was unclear. When he led us to the banks of the river where we “could” camp we were elated and realized this was exactly what we were looking for: a beautiful deserted river in the jungle with sandy banks for our tents. Still hungry we crawled into sleeping bags and drifted to sleep, sinking into the delicious cacophony of the night time orchestra.
By morning our guide’s predictions were validated. Some families from Las Nubes that were developing the community’s ecotourism projects had been busy getting corn masa, fruits, vegetables, beans, and eggs together. They set up electrical lines and hauled down a refrigerator, gas stove, tables and chairs. Before we had completed our morning cup of coffee, on our camp stove, down the beach was a fully equipped and functioning comedor!. Our days there were joy filled with swimming in the river, hiking to spectacular views of the many and varied waterfalls, and beading jewelry with the women from the community.
Reluctant to leave yet determined to continue our explorations we broke camp on day 4 to head to the fabled territory of the Guacamaya-the resplendent royal red and blue macaw, a member of the parrot family that is now endangered because of the relentless clearing of the jungle in Chiapas for cattle ranching. The intermittent jungle beauty of this area would suddenly become desolate with cleared and charred lands with not a tree in sight. The Guacamaya community in their determined efforts to protect the Scarlet Macaw has developed a beautiful eco lodge and grounds on the banks of the Rio Lacantun. We arrived there in the heat of the midday to discover an open air restaurant with an extensive menu and found fellow travelling mexicans and others enjoying the rustic and lovely environs. We asked to be led to the camping area hoping to find a more remote corner of paradise. We walked over wooden planked paths covered with lush green flowery arches only to find an open space surrounded by many brightly colored pitched tents and high trees with curious monkeys. Later that night under a full moon when awoken from deep dreams it was hard to distinguish howler monkeys from unknown but very intimate snoring neighbors with sleep apnea.
At dusk, after doing cannon balls off rocks into the river, we went for our first walk accompanied by our guatemalan guide whose original plan was to get to el norte but he wondered about harassment of immigrants as he made his way north through Mexico. He found the Guacamaya community a good place to stop to work and he could easily cross the Umicinta River to visit his family on days off. For now he remains in southern Chiapas protecting the Guacamayas as they fly in search of precious jungle to nest in. Our dusk walk was stunning with close encounters with birds heading home to their nests. We saw toucans, a large owl and finally a red macaw couple brillant feathers..... (to be continued)
Bonampak murals (over 1000 years old)
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