As promised…here is what went down. I woke up bright and early at 6 am yesterday morning in order to be in the center of town by 8 because me and some friends were traveling to the nearby by town of Cuzamá. The guide book told us to catch a bus at a specific intersection downtown, but when we arrived there were no buses to be found. After asking around and getting 5 completely different sets of directions, we found out that we were about 10 blocks away from where our bus was going to be. So we walked…We finally found our bus and began our one hour bus ride to Cuzamá. None of us had any idea what to expect when we got there. When we pulled up to this small Mayan village, there were taxis waiting by the side of the road to take us to the Hacienda that we were going to visit. By taxi I mean there were children between 9 and 12 with bicycles that had a seat for two on the front…this is what they called taxis. Feeling very uncomfortable with having the child labor that should, without a doubt, be in school at that very moment bike us around in the 100 degree heat we asked the bus driver if he could take us 2 miles up the road to the Hacienda. He said he would, thankfully. We stepped out of the bus, paid our fare, and hopped into what they called a “horse drawn carriage” which was a little cart that rode on a miniature railroad and pulled by a horse. Really neat actually.

The house and business part of this Hacienda no longer exists but the main tourist attraction, as it turns out, are these three cenotes. Three of the most beautiful cenotes in the world. Now if you remember back to my post where I discussed what cenotes were, they are natural pools of water that the Mayans used for many purposes…everything from bathing to spiritual purposes, ie) sacrificing. These three cenotes were covered cenotes, meaning that they were inside of caves. We had to climb down into the cenotes and the water was (depending on which cenote) about 40-80 feet under the surface of the ground. I can’t even explain the beauty of the water in words, nor do the pictures I took with my camera do any justice, so here are a couple of pictures of these cenotes that I visited that someone else took as well as a couple that I took. The water is turquoise blue, and clearer than the water in a swimming pool. There were places in the cenote that were almost 100 feet deep and you could see the rocks at the bottom. UNBELIEVABLE!





That part of the trip was beautiful, fun, and unforgettable…but it doesn’t end there. Back to the bus ride that brought us 2 miles off of the normal route to a secluded Hacienda. The bus driver told us that he would meet us where he dropped us off at a certain time. So like anyone who wants to eventually get back from the middle of nowhere, we were where we were supposed to be when we were supposed to be there. And we waited. And we waited. And waited. It got to the point to where the “taxi” drivers/riders were telling us that he wasn’t coming. But we held out. Mainly because, like I said, we weren’t big fans of child labor. It became very clear that the bus wasn’t coming so we took matters into our own hands. A man and his family were getting into their truck and so I walked up to him and asked if he could drop us four off in the middle of town 2 miles down the road. He immediately said no, and rolled his window back up and started to drive off. Then he reversed back and said that they could, so we hopped into the back of his truck and were officially hitch-hiking in Mexico. When we got into town the man told us that he and his family were going to stay at a Hacienda close to Merida and that we could ride along if we wanted. So we naturally accepted his hour of free transportation, but we were unaware of how terrible with directions this man was. He took more wrong turns than I thought were possible, but we finally started going the right direction towards Merida. And then he started to turn the wrong way again, so we all started yelling from the back of the truck to turn right and he did. It struck me as odd that he would listen to directions from four hitch hikers in the back of his truck but we got to the right place. As we pulled up to the Hacienda 10 kilometers outside of Merida, a window rolled down and the man’s wife said, “Your ride ends here.” Weird way to put it, but we couldn’t complain so we hopped out of the truck, asked some locals how to get into the city, and took a bus on into Merida.

I know some of you are curious to know how the whole sick thing went. Sorry I didn't post sooner, but I'm fine. It was more or less just a 24 hour flu virus that came and went. I've just been so busy that I haven't had the time to post. The same holds true today...BUT, please tune in tomorrow evening because I will be writing about what happened today. Today was probably the most crazy, adventuresome, awesome day in Mexico EVER. I hate to leave you with that, but I want to make sure that I have the time to sit down and record every detail, and this evening does not offer me that opportunity. I'm sorry for the short absence, but I can only hope that you will all understand today's events in the near future...Let's just say it may involve hitch-hiking and caves...

Well friends, I'm sick again. Not like last time, today it's the flu. Body aches, slight fever, and I'm exhausted. Nothing more, but nothing less either. And my throat is killing me. Is that normal with the flu?

Besides that I have tons of homework due today that I didn't do last night because I needed to get sleep, including a class presentation. We'll see how that goes.

I'm off to class...

Saturday night, which I just haven't had time to post about, was Mexican Independence Day. I went, along with 70,000 other people, to the center of town to watch "el Grito" Spanish for "the shout". This is a tradition in which the Governor comes out on the balcony of the Governor's mansion and shouts "Viva Mexico" five times in honor of their Independence. Well, I'm not going to lie, it was quite the experience seeing all of these people united by this one event. It caused me to think about our Independence Day celebrations in the US...where we usually have small gatherings of family and friends, maybe some fireworks, and then we all go home. It's a fun day. Really it is. But I realized this weekend that Americans celebrate the present America on July 4th. We celebrate where our country is now, what is going on at this moment. I love our country and our traditions, but I feel that because we tend to celebrate the present, someone who may not agree with current policies or leadership feels less of a desire to celebrate the current position of our country. I would never call anyone unpatriotic, but you know where I'm coming from. And of course, this is America and that is their freedom. But Mexicans celebrate the past. For one day, ok for a full month, they put aside all of their nations problems (which is a lot to do) and remember the fight against Spain. They remember the first time a leader of their country stood up in front of a crowd and shouted "Viva Mexico." They remember what it was like to not be Independent, and the pride that now exists. It brought chills to my spine listening as 70,000 people crammed into a square block, all shouted "VIVA!" Kinda cool. I guess I would just really love to see someone dressed like Paul Revere riding down the street in every major American city shouting "The British are Coming, The British are Coming!!!" I think that could do a little something to unite us.

What an amazing weekend! I went to Campeche with no idea what to really expect, and I discovered one of the coolest cities in all of Mexico. The city was, at one point in time, completely walled it and much of the wall is still up today. Campeche was constantly under attack by pirates in the 18th and 19th centuries, and so you will find huge forts enforced by dozens of canons throughout the city. But apart from being the obvious historical goldmine that it is, it is such a comfortable city. The streets are lined with 200 year old, two-story buildings all the way down; each building being a different color than the buildings to either side. It honestly felt like I was walking through a town in 1820 Mexico. Way cool. So after touring some forts and walking on parts of the city wall we decided to check out this whole Festival of the Black Christ thing. So we starting walking the direction the nice Mexican lady pointed us in and began to see this in the distance.

It was no different from your normal American fair...other than the obvious lack of certain safety regulations. Hysterical. Oh, and the part from last week about the Christ being burnt during a period of persecution...absolutely not true. The story is even cooler. Apparently, El Cristo Negro is just made out of ebony wood and is naturally black. Not the cool part of the story, however. The story goes like this: It was made in Rome in 1554, shipped to Venezuela, and then purchased by the people in Campeche. In order to get the black colored crucifix to Campeche they need two things: 2 weeks and a Catholic captain to get it there. On the first day of the 2 week trip from Venezuela a huge storm hit the sailors and they were seemingly unable to keep the boat on route. The captain and the crew went beneath the deck for safety while one sailor volunteered to steer the boat through the storm. No one on the crew knew who this sailor was. Meanwhile, back in Campeche, someone had informed the city that the black Christ would be arriving on the first day of the voyage so the entire town was waiting on the beach with torches. And sure enough, the boat makes it through the storm to safety, to arrive in Campeche on the first day of the trip. However, when the captain tries to find the mystery sailor who had maneuvered the boat through the storm, he is no where to be found. And when they open the box containing the crucifix, the box is completely dry but the black Christ inside is dripping wet. Who was this mystery sailor??? Was it Christ himself? Anyway, and so to this day the black Christ hangs in the Church of San Roman and has never been painted and hasn't rotted even slightly in 400 something years. Kinda cool. Here is a picture, I couldn't get close to the crucifix because they were having their daily mass.

Here are some other random pictures from the weekend. The first one is actually here in Merida, it is the oldest cathedral on the continent. Enjoy.