From Thunder Bay Bandwiki
Revision as of 13:57, 11 January 2015 by KNFFrances (Talk | contribs)

Jump to: navigation, search

This report is about two distinctly diverse journeys. The 1st to Costa Rica, and the second to Mexico.

It is a clear, moonless night when we assemble for our pilgrimage to the seashore. I cannot recognize how we are going to see anything in the blackness, but the guide's eyes seem to penetrate even the darkest shadows. We get started strolling, our vision adjusting slowly.

We have come to Tortuguero National Park, in northeast Costa Rica, to witness sea turtles nesting. Once the domain of only biologists and locals, turtle-viewing is now one of the much more well-liked routines in ecotourism pleasant Costa Rica. As the most critical nesting internet site in the western Caribbean, Tortuguero sees much more than its fair share of guests. In reality because 1980, the yearly quantity of observers has gone from 240 to 50,000.

The manual stops, points out two deep furrows in the sand - the sign of a turtle's presence - and areas a finger to his lips, creating the 'shhh' gesture. The nesting females can be spooked by the slightest noise or light. He gathers us about a crater in the beach inside it is an huge creature. We hear her rasp and sigh as she brushes aside sand for her nest.

In whispers, we comment on her plight and the solitude of her process, the low survival charge of her hatchlings due to the fact only 1 of each and every 5000 will make it previous the birds, crabs, sharks, seaweed and human pollution to adulthood.

We are all mesmerized by the turtle's bulk. Even though we are not allowed to get too near, we can catch the glint of her eyes. She doesn't appear to register our presence at all. The whirring sound of discharged sand continues. Following a bit the manual moves us away. My eyes have adapted to the darkness now, and I can make out other gigantic oblong types labouring slowly up the beach in a silent, purposeful armada.

As the chanting reached a crescendo and the incense thickened to a fog, the chicken's neck snapped like a pencil. The seemingly ageless executioner sat on a carpet of pine needles, surrounded by hundreds of candles, his eyes fixed upon a brightly painted saintly icon, The man took a swig from a Coca-Cola bottle, a sign not of globalization, but of the expurgating power of soda because the Tzotzil men and women believe that evil spirits can be expulsed through a robust burp. Here, inside the church of San Juan de Chamula, such faith doesn't seern all that far-fetched.

This is the Zapatista heartland of Chiapas, a lost planet of dense jungle and indigenous villages where descendants of the Maya cling to the rituals of their ancestors. During the region, the iconography of Subcomandante Marcos, guerrilla leader and poster kid of the struggle for indigenous rights, reveals a continuing undercurrent of rebellion. San Cristobal : de las Casas, 1 of Mexico's most alluring towns, was the web site of an armed Zapatista revolt in 1994.

Outdoors San Cristobal, the village of San Juan de Chamula is practically a law unto itself, with its own judges, jail and council. Timeless rituals are exposed right here, the place females sell brightly coloured, hand-woven garments in the main square, returning residence at midday to put together a meal for their husbands, several of whom are shared. Men can have up to 3 wives at a time, and I am not specified to be envious or not!! Every single yr during the pre Lenten festival, maybe the most fascinating time to visit, the village's guys run barefoot through blazing wheat.

Four kilometres from Chamula, San Lorenzo Zinacantan is equally fascinating. Right here, the men, in red-and-white ponchos and flat hats strewn with ribbons, which are tied if they are married, loose if not, launch rockets skyward to stir the gods into sending rain. The ladies pummel tortillas and weave textiles, constantly family vacations with toddlers a watchful eye on the sky due to the fact numerous houses have gone up in smoke as a consequence of rogue fireworks.