Cookery class

As our time in St Cristobal draws to a close, we realise we still have to teach Mariet how to use the present we gave her (a blackbird pie funnel). That means holding a cooking class.












We even got the kids involved. Daisy, Itamar and Pablo made biscuits while I prepared some pastry, and Mariet taught me how to make empanadas, which are a sort of deep fried cornish pasty (healthy!). Mariet's Mum Conche made cheese straws from my spare pastry, and looked after Clover while we cooked.














While we were there, we got a text to say that Mum and Dad had arrived in Mexico City and were at their hotel. This was a great relief considering they don't speak Spanish and had to clear customs and find a taxi. They are staying with us here for nearly a week before we go on a road trip and finally fly home.

Chozita

It's slightly embarrassing to realise that none of my blogging has actually mentioned the children's project that we support out here. We have been busy, honest, both seeing the kids again and having meetings with people running other projects out here who might be able to help out.












La Chozita is a small group of secondary age children who come several afternoons a week (they have school in the mornings) to an education centre to get help with homework and extra teaching in various subjects. Without the project, nearly all of the students would have left school at primary level, and as it is three of them have gone on to university.

The charity currently pays a beca, or scholarship, to the children. It's not a vast amount of money, but for some of them it pays the rent on the family house, and keeps them in school. If it wasn't for this money, some of these children would be spending their days selling craft items or snacks on the street rather than going to school.














The students are indigenous, mainly Tzotzil speaking, in a state where the average indigenous wage is a third that of the general average, because of lack of education and opportunity. We hope that they will grow up to become leaders in their communities and fulfil their own potential thanks to the help Chozita has given them.










Like many small charities, Chozita has a tendency to lurch from crisis to crisis. It's been hard to run the project from London, and this has never been our intention, but sometimes we've lacked people on the ground. Enrique is now in charge in St Cristobal, and though this is a bit strange for us, he seems to have an excellent bond with the students and is spending a lot of time with them.












Mexico can be a hard country to fundraise for. On the surface, it's quite a developed nation, and the students we're working with are not starving. They have shoes on their feet and clothes on their backs, which means the need they are in can go unnoticed. But when you scratch the surface you realise some have health problems due to malnutrition, some are suffering violence within their families and communities. Without projects like Chozita, there would be little hope for their future.

As it is, we met up with one of the ex students this week who is now at university in St Cristobal. Her sister is at university in Tuxtla. It was good to hear how she is doing, even though the work is tough for her. We've also visited the project to see how the remaining Chozitos are doing, and found them working on their maths and making traditional numeracy games.












Seeing the project and hearing some of their stories has made us all the more aware that what Chozita is doing is crucial. We'd like to grow what it is doing, and the meetings we've had have helped us to realise that the project occupies a unique space in a city where there are plenty of other projects going on. And we've found some people who might be able to help out too - so that feels like a positive thing.

http://www.lachozita.org/ (copy and paste into your browser to view)

Beach bumming

Puerto Arista is not counted among the great coastal resorts of Mexico - and that's why we love it so much. It's on the Chiapas coast, and until recently it was a five or six hour trip from St Cristobal. Now, thanks to a new motorway carved through great swathes of rock, it's a minimum of two and a half hours away.. I suspect that might change its curious and sleepy charm pretty soon.




















We set off on public transport for the coast on Sunday morning, and had to change vehicles several times before we finally made it. Every time we changed it got hotter and the kids got crosser. We were all (including Enrique, Mariet and family) crammed into one taxi for much of the journey.












Once we arrived at the beach though, the stickiness seemed worth it. There is nothing to do at Puerto Arista except swim, eat fish and order cold drinks. That was enough to make us all very happy.












We stayed in some cabañas in a coconut and mango grove, which were basic but clean. At night, the grove was magical, lit by the stars and the moon. Daisy was very taken with her 'moon shadow' and her tent (mosquito net) over her bed. Clover, unfortunately, has been teething for a few nights and found the night away somewhat trying. I fed her several times out on the porch in the middle of the night, listening to the waves and feeling a million miles from anywhere.



















Out of season, Puerta Arista doesn't see much tourism and we had the beach pretty much to ourselves, apart from local families who came to exclaim over Clover's blue eyes and our general paleness. We set ourselves up under large palapas (shaded open thatched buildings) and ordered fish in various guises. The kids spent almost the entire day in the water, stopping only for tortilla breaks and large glasses of jamaica (hibiscus tea).




















On the way home, the taxi driver was kind enough to stop so we could buy mangos by the roadside, sold by ladies who cut them into strips and put them in bags for convenience. They were seriously good. Then the tired kids dozed on our laps all the way back home, grubby with sand and mango juice.



















Despite their grubbiness, Daisy and Clover caused the usual sensation at St Cristobal bus station. The girl in front of us looked at our grubby eldest daughter and said to her friend " How wonderfully beautiful she is - and oh look there is another one behind her". To which her friend replied: "Don't say anything, you'll give her the (evil) eye".

It's a constant concern for people here that children who get too many compliments will attract a malinfluence, which can only be averted by wearing an amber bracelet. Daisy would love an excuse for some jewellery, but I would have thought her general grubbiness would have put most people off.










This morning, Daisy's first words to me were. "Can I go back to the beach today"... so I think the trip was an unqualified success.

Living the local life

As the days slip by in St Cristobal, our lives become more and more in sync with the rest of the population. Lunch comes at four o clock, and dinner is a snack after the kids have gone to bed. A good day involves a trip down the walking street, a drink in a cafe and at least one visit to a friend that stretches to epic proportions.

I have given up trying to manage what's going on (hard for a control freak like me). I barely intervene when Clover is offered a lollipop or two (she has no teeth, it's hardly going to ruin them) or when Daisy is given yet another sugary soft drink - though I do draw the line at Coca Cola. We have a whole set of photos that I should label 'not for NCT' as I feel I will be ostracised forever if the local mums ever get hold of them.




















I save my protests for really important occasions, such as when Daisy is seated on a wobbly chair balanced on another chair above a fire, or when Clover is given a chilli. I suspect I probably come across as 'overprotective mum' but really I feel I am being quite lax.




















The kids seem to be thriving on it. Daisy is becoming more Mexican by the day, especially now Mari has given her a rather drastic haircut. She resembles a Lacandon Indian (albeit a very pale one). The Lacandones come from deep in the jungle, and were the last of the Mayan tribes to remain untouched by civilisation. Daisy also remains untouched by civilisation, so perhaps the haircut is a good clue. Clover's 'mummy's girl' phase seems to be ending, so she's now spending plenty of time touring round other people's kitchens, serving in Mari's shop, etc.

Today Daisy learnt to tortillear, and I learnt that there really is a verb that means 'to make tortillas'. We were visiting a family from church. They're an indigenous family that live in the city, and the Mum was making tortillas by hand over a fire when we got to the house (we arrived at one, for lunch, but it was 4:30 before we actually ate). It was impressive to see the tortillas being made, and they tasted fantastic. Daisy's efforts were a bit doughy, but she had lots of fun.














Meanwhile, I've been stretching my Spanish to the limit, at a special Valentine's themed women's evening at the Baptist church. I'm not good at biblical anagrams at the best of times, and when Adam is spelt ADAN, and Jerusalem ends in an 'N' I don't stand a chance.

I also fell down on my choice of gift. We all had to bring a cup with some sweets in it as a present for another lady in the group. I didn't realise that this was a special Valentine's thing, which is why the poor girl who got my gift ended up with a Christmas cup by mistake (well, I thought it looked nice). I comfort myself with the fact that cultural confusion is inevitable - Paul once brought our friend Mariet a large armful of the special flowers they use for the dead here. She was quite startled.













We're off to the beach tomorrow morning, for Clover's first taste of sun, sand and prawn empanadas. I'll be keeping the coconut and gin cocktails away from her though. Even I'm not that laid back.

Playpark of fear: reprise

There I was thinking that the Parque Infantil in St Cristobal was as scary as you could get, but it turns out that it cannot hold a candle (or even a broken, sharpened candlestick) to its rival in Chiapas' capital city, Tuxtla Gutierrez.












We had a grand day out with our friends Mariet and Enrique and their kids. Even though we had gone down to the 'hot land' at the bottom of the mountains it was still a little too chilly to spend all day in the unheated swimming pool drinking beer and eating fish tacos. That's where the playpark of terror came in.












We were greeted with what looked like a lot of rather nice playground equipment. Daisy and Itamar made their way up the slides at once, but then found their way obstructed when they tried to get down again with the sort of yellow tape they use at a police incident. What's more it said 'Peligroso' - 'Dangerous' all over it.














This scene was repeated several times before we could find a slide they could actually go down. Even then, I wasn't convinced that the tape hadn't simply been removed.













To add to the fun, the playpark had been embellished with a series' of charming 'tableaux' of popular fairy tales and stories. I particularly enjoyed the statues of Guilliver and the Lilliputians, most of whom appeared to be missing a nose or one of their ears.














Still, the kids don't seem to have had any nightmares. They went on a number of rides (we picked the least scary looking) and generally had a good time. Afterwards we went for pizza in St Cristobal's version of Pizza Express. Daisy, Pablo and Itamar got to make their own pizzas (well, arrange the toppings anyway), and then got to work with the crayons provided on their placemats. I think they must have put off any other possible clientele since we were the only people in there. We left a good tip, at least.














Back home, Daisy is still missing Larry the neighbour. His nonappearance on the balcony totally nonplusses her. She is convinced he is simply hiding in his flat and keeps bellowing "larry, are you there?". She also spends a lot of time peering over the railings 'looking for Larry'. I fear he will never return.

El Dia de Amor

Valentine's Day, and obviously there are few things more romantic to do than go on a trip to a pine forest with a Baptist Church. Beats a candlelit dinner anytime.
Picnics in Mexico are a somewhat different experience than at home, although the weather on Sunday was somewhat like a spring day in the UK. For a start you don't want to bother packing sandwiches. Oh no, what you need is an entire chicken or two, a big pot of beans and a couple of kilos of tortillas. Oh, and some refrescos (fizzy drinks) of course... and a big bag of crisps, and another big bag of crisps, and a huge load of mayonnaise.




















Anything else you might be missing (more refrescos, even more crisps and mangos on sticks) can be bought on site.













After the death-defying play equipment in the Parque Infantil I was delighted to see a huge concrete slide at our picnic destination. It came with an ominous warning sign "children, please ride in the middle" - the assumption being that they would probably fall off if they went on the edges. Daisy loved it. The only problem was that it didn't go fast enough.













Clover had fun too. I looked away for a moment and she had stolen an entire chicken leg using her amazing extendable arm. She ate the lot, as well. Then she was passed around the entire church. Daisy spent some quality time duelling with a complete stranger using the roasted sweetcorn on a stick we'd bought for her.















All in all, a good day. Possibly the best mango I've ever eaten, as well.

Daisy's top five things to do in Mexico

The Mexico guide books are short on things to do with children in St Cristobal de Las Casas, but Daisy has her own ideas. If the writers of Lonely Planet ever run short of suggestions, here are her top picks.

1. Shopping for animalitos.











According to the guidebook these are "small, inexpensive and fragile pottery figures made by the children of the village Amatenango de Valle". They are sold in the streets, mainly by children, for a few pesos.
Daisy isn't that interested in their cultural significance. She just wants to collect them, and she sees every trip out as an opportunity to buy more. She's even got the downstairs neighbours buying them for her now. She's probably keeping the entire pottery business of Amatenango going singlehandedly.
However, the guidebook did get one thing right, they are certainly fragile. So far we've got through 'poorly pig' (who lost one leg almost as soon as she'd bought him), an armadillo and about five other unfortunate creatures. Never mind, her love of animalitos means she is easily bribeable, since you can usually get her to leave the house if she can buy one or two.









2. Hassling Larry the neighbour


Sadly in Guatemala for a few days, Larry is very popular with Daisy. The poor man (who is from the US) likes to spend his days sitting on the balcony in just his shorts reading books. Daisy likes to shout "Where's my neighbour?" very loudly at him and occasionally just "I want Larry!". He shows nothing but a polite interest in her, and to be honest I can't blame him for fleeing the country. She even named one of her animalitos after him, but it unsurprisingly came to a sticky end. Poor Larry.


3. Serving in Mari's Shop













I don't think Daisy's ever met anyone who owned a shop before, especially not one of those tantalising corner shops which sells sweeties and a whole rainbow of Mexican snacks, as well as essentials like milk and eggs. So Mari and Eneas' shop on the corner of our road has proved very popular. It is the source of all good things, especially lollipops, animal biscuits and large marshmallow hearts. Daisy likes to go and 'help' Mari while she's serving customers and also rearranges everything, given half the chance.


4. Looking for Baby Jesus' Daddy

Daisy is clearly a catholic at heart. Taking her into the nearest church always cheers her up, especially when baby Jesus and his Mummy wear such good clothes. But where is his Daddy? She's been looking for ages. I have once managed to palm her off with St Christopher, but otherwise the whole thing remains an ineffable mystery.















5. Having a drink with a straw

It doesn't matter what type of drink it is, if it comes with a 'popote' Daisy is a very happy girl. Goodness knows what will happen when she discovers the existence of cocktail umbrellas.














So there you go Lonely Planet, don't say we don't do anything for you. St Cristobal is a city of untold toddler delights.

close encounters of the Jaguar kind

Finally Accuweather's prediction came true and when it's drizzling in St Cristobal there is only one thing to do: go down to 'tierra caliente' (the hot land) at the bottom of the mountain.














We arrived at Chiapa del Corzo, a colonial town below St Cristobal, seeking a mythical 'ecological park' which is vaguely mentioned in the guide book. Getting to the park proved to be somewhat like the quest for the Holy Grail. It had no website, no-one appeared to have heard of it except the lady in the tourist office who described it as 'dilapidated', and when we tried to get to it one of the men manning the boats near the river described it as impossible to get to and suggested a trip around the local island instead.

Oh yes, because that's the other thing about the worst marketed theme park in the world, you have to get to it by boat and then hope that someone comes to get you to take you back. It's a 40 minute journey along the Cañon de Sumidero in a fast boat called a lancha, and you have to persuade the driver of the boat to stop halfway down.















Even when we finally found somewhere to buy a ticket and got on the boat, the driver wasn't sure her was going to stop there because of the wind. But it was too late, we were already in, with two children in lifejackets that were slightly too big and a large helping of adrenalin.













We've done the trip along the Canyon in a boat before, but not with kids. We held onto them for dear life as we zipped along the river with the cliffs towering high above us. The guide pointed out spider monkeys in the trees, vultures, and the place where the Chiapas Indians jumped to their deaths rather than be captured by the Spanish. I began to feel we were in for the same fate. When the park finally drew near I nearly bottled it and went back rather than go to the 'dilapidated' park. But the kids needed food so we got off, hoping at least that the food was edible

After the mythical quest to reach the park it came as no surprise that there were only five other people there when we arrived. They must have been very determined. We braced ourselves for the worst, but the whole experience was oddly magical.












First we passed through an enclosed area screened off by hanging curtains of rope. At first we thought this was just for effect, but when we looked up there were toucans in the trees, and red macaws. They came so close we could touch them (in fact, later they came so close I feared that they might peck Clover). I've never seen a toucan up close before, but they were absolutely stunning and lots of fun too.














Later, after lunch, we had an encounter that was nearly far too close. The park has a pair of jaguar, which are native to Chiapas, and we went up to have a look. We were (unsurprisingly) the only ones there, and the jaguar were extremely curious and came over to have a look. That is when I noticed that the cage was made of wire big enough for Daisy to poke a hand through and that she was just about to try to touch the big kitty's nose. I was calm at the time as we pulled her back, but I don't like to think of it now.













We walked around open an enclosure with (non-poisonous) snakes and saw another snake that had just shed its skin. We got up close with the crocodiles.











We didn't have time or inclination for the monkeys, puma, kayaking, rock climbing and zip slide and it was slightly too cold for the glorious pool. We also had a fantastic lunch where we did, I admit, see a party of tourists. The rest of the time we were able to have the park to ourselves. It was so quiet that the staff were able to come and find us when our boat arrived (at which point I was trying to breastfeed Clover while an inquisitive toucan tried to steal our map).















All in all, despite the mythic quest and the fear factor we all had a fabulous time and there's probably much more still to see. A grand day out - though I'll be keeping Daisy away from that jaguar cage in future.