Finding San Cristobal de Las Casas

My trip began early on February 11th when I traded one week of Canadian winter for the adventure-of-a-lifetime in Chiapas, Mexico.

Days before departing, I had received the following e-mail from our host Chris Treter at Higher Grounds Trading. He said,

"Time is drawing near for our adventure to Chiapas. I have attached some reading resources that may be of interest to you. As you know, this trip will not only provide you with an understanding of the coffee industry and our partner farmers but will also contextualize the lives of the growers in light of international global political and economic realities. So, we will spend equal time learning about the struggle for indigenous rights that our partner growers are currently involved in. The reading materials will contextualize this so that, when you arrive, you will have a deeper understanding of the amazing people you will be meeting!

Below are two recent articles by rather famous intellectuals and attached are two readers. The first - The Other Campaign Reader - discusses the Zapatista campaign to unite progressive movements throughout Mexico and the 2nd is a general reader about coffee in Mexico."

There were over 80-pages of documentation to review prior to meeting my hosts in Chiapas. I was grateful for the long flight.

Most of us arrived at Tuxtla late in the afternoon on Monday, February 11th, where we were shuttled to San Cristobal de Las Casas, a city one hour south, southeast of the state capital Tuxtla Guiterrez.


The ride from the airport was alarming and exhilarating. The traffic was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life...not the volume of traffic, but rather the flow of the vehicles as they sped through winding mountain roads. I realized in short order that I lacked both the skill and the nerves to drive in this part of the country.

The views were breathtaking.

I noticed corn growing on the slopes that fell away from the side of the highway and wondered how these farmers could germinate seeds on such a steep incline, much less harvest its crop. I imagined the rain washing away their hard work as their seeds tumble down the mountainside in a rivers of runoff from the highway. I wondered how they did it. The slopes were so steep, I simply couldn't imagine tending to the crops there, much less getting to the crops by climbing down or up the rocky mountainside.

As we rounded a bend in the highway, our host pointed out San Cristobal in the distance. It was a beautiful white city sprawling in the lap of a mountain. It may have been the distance, or the fading daylight, or my travel-weary mind that made it appear to ethereal...like Brigadoon without the bagpipes.

We entered the colonial district through a large gate. I notice immediately the difference in architecture and infrastructure. I could sense the history in these streets and properties. Our driver navigated through the complicated grid of narrow streets and deposited us at our Hotel -- La Posada Isabel.

Our host led us through brief introductions and insisted that we clean up and meet back in the hotel lobby in half an hour. I followed my roommate Sharon up to our room and began organizing some of my things. Twenty minutes later we were back in the lobby acquainting ourselves with the rest of the group. There were students from the University of Michigan, representatives from Amavida Coffee, Peace Coffee and Heine Brothers Coffee. There was a musician, a graphic artist and a cafe manager. I smiled at the diversity of the group. So many different perspectives would enrich our learning I thought.

We headed out into the night to find Chris and Jody's favourite taco place. The streets were full of cars and people. The businesses were in full service with doors and windows open to the public. I asked the time -- 8:00 pm. "Still Monday right?" I asked. I was delighted by the energy and atmosphere of this wonderful city.

As we wove our way through the streets to find our restaurant night rode in on a soft, sweet breeze that I recognized from last summer. Walking in the company of strangers in a foreign city, I was surprised by how I felt -- especially peaceful, perfectly happy and decidedly blessed.

We devoured plates and plates of authentic Mexican tacos and freshly made cornflour tortillas. It occurred to me that we do a rather poor job of recreating Mexican cuisine in Canada. Our hosts ordered a round of cervezas and we toasted our journey -- the distance we have travelled and the voyage ahead.

We called it an early night and parted ways on the street outside the restaurant. Our hosts and their guests walked to a house nearby and the rest of us returned to Posada Isabel.