Alex and I are snugglers. We actually find it difficult to sleep when the other is not there. I find that with most of my married friends one of two things happens; either neither of them are snugglers and all is well or only one of the two are snugglers and someone just has to adjust. That's why I'm thankful both Alex and I were already wired the same way when it comes to sleeping. Honestly, it comes in handy. Many of you have heard about how the first night we were back from out honeymoon we discovered someone else living in my house and had to sleep in a twin bed at Alex's old house (if you haven't heard that story, ask me... it's special). So even though there are two twin beds in the room we are staying in, we slept in the same one. There is just something about the idea of sleeping in separate beds that Alex and I can't resolve. It just feels wrong to us. So call it weird but it works for us.Anyway, it rained heavily last night and I was thankful because it shut up all the stray dogs and allowed us to sleep soundly. Good thing, too, because our day started very early. Before the roosters started crowing, actually. And there are a lot of roosters in this city. We had to meet up with our group by 6:30am so we left our house while it was still dark and walked through the barely conscious streets of Oztotepec with our host dad, Andres, as our guide. He didn't say a word to us as we walked, but I could tell he was concerned with our well being. He sort of reminds me of my own father. It could be the fact that they are both bald in the same spot and have the same endearing smile/laugh lines on their faces, but regardless I think I'm going to become rather fond of him by the time we leave.
We walked up a very steep hill (the same one Lucio had driven down backwards yesterday) and passed by a few other early risers (people waiting for the public buses to take them into Mexico City for work) and a myriad of stray dogs. We met up with our group in front of some public government building to wait for a tour bus that had been rented by the church. As the minutes ticked by and the sky continued to lighten our group slowly gathered, each escorted by their host families. By 7am we were all accounted for... and our bus still hadn't arrived. When it began to rain we all walked just a little further up the street and took shelter in a nearby church member's house. No one was really perturbed that the bus was so late, but we were all wondering why. Eventually Alice explained to us that the bus was coming from Mexico City and that despite the fact it only had about 30 miles to travel the traffic is so horrendous that it was being held up. Since we were not the ones in charge of things nobody in our group minded the delay. Neither did the Mexicans we were with. To them it was normal and not a big deal.
Our bus finally arrived around 8am and we all piled in. It was a nice touring bus with big windows and cushy seats, very much like ones I have ridden in America for various events. During the two hour ride we ate "breakfast" which consisted of ham and cheese sandwiches (made with whole wheat bread, thank you Margarita!!), pears and the biggest juice boxes I have ever seen in my life. When we arrived at the park we got off the bus... and waited again.
As it turned out there was a miss-communication between our hosts and our group about tickets. I am still not entirely sure what the problem was. In the end all I could gather was that the pastor had needed to drive separately and hadn't arrived yet and that he either had the tickets in his possession already or needed to purchase them for the group once he arrived. Again, no one seemed to mind so we just found out of the way places to sit and took the opportunity to practice our Spanish with our new Mexican friends.
There were peddlers hanging out around the park entrance (I'd quickly see that they were only the beginning) and it didn't take long for them to descend upon our large group. They sold all kinds of pretty looking jewelry, knick-knacks and toys. Several of them had these strange whistles that mimic the call of a jaguar. I had to smile when I saw a few of them selling little sets of bow and arrows with the name of the park painted on them. Somehow it just gave me a warm, nostalgic feeling inside to know that Americans aren't the only ones who try to make a buck off of the Native peoples who used to live where a Walmart now stands.
When we finally got the tickets all settled we walked along a very lengthy driveway and passed by a group of people dressed in some colorful traditional garb and performing a very interesting ceremony. There was a large pole, probably about 30 feet high, with a square, rotating frame resting on top that had five men seated upon it, four on each side and one in the middle. They were playing some music on whistles and drums and turning the frame they sat upon so that the man in the middle faced each cardinal direction (north, south, east and west). After the man in the middle had greeted each direction the four men on the sides dropped backwards off the frame and very slowly, upside down and upon lengths of rope, were lowered to the ground as they swung around the pole in an every widening circle. When they were finished, grounded and upright again, they came to greet our group and Alice and Fidencio explained to us that they were from a region in Mexico that is know for it's vanilla. The men who had performed were selling vanilla beans and pure vanilla extract. It smelled WONDERFUL and I almost bought some but decided not to because I wasn't sure if I could get it through customs.
We moved on to the park entrance and ended up waiting some more because someone decided that having a tour guide would be a great idea. We milled around the park entrance (which included a lane lined with tourist-trap shops, a small fountain and bathrooms) for a while and eventually a man that looked very much like an aging Mexican cowboy (hats, boots, ID-sized-belt-buckle and all) greeted us in very clear English. He led us into the park and I had to catch my breath.
Against a backdrop of clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds stood a large plaza, several small pyramids and one large pyramid. Each was made of stones that varied in color from ivory to tan to red. I was very thankful for our tour guide because he was able to tell us so very much about the history of the place, the culture of the people who had lived there, and what went into restoring the abandoned ruins. He informed us that what we saw today were actually modern reconstructions built upon the few remaining bases of the original structures. Unfortunately time and Spanish Conquistadors had taken their toll on what no doubt had once been a magnificent city. Only one of the pyramids had been slightly protected from the elements because of another structure that was right in front of it. The original stone stairs and original carvings of Quetzalcoatl (the feathered serpent god of the Aztecs and Toltecs) could be seen. I was still incredibly delighted to see the place, however (check out this posting on wikipedia if you'd like to know more about the place http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teotihuacan).
We walked along a very lengthy and wide street that was called The Way of the Dead and climbed up a smaller pyramid before making our way to what was left of the residential district. The entire time the peddlers were tireless. I got to hand it to them for being so persistent. I heard many of them say the same phrases in English which included, "Almost free, eh?" "Take a look" and "For you, only such-and-such pesos!".
At one point a group of people dressed in costumes that resembled the garb I had seen in several pieces of Mexican artwork depicting ancient Aztecs came into the park, dancing and playing some drums. Both Alex and I watched for a few minutes and realized we had seen pretty much the same type of dancing at American pow-wows. We asked our tour guide about them and he told us that the people dancing just did it for the tourists and there was absolutely no way to know if what they were doing was even remotely close to being authentic. I will admit to being slightly disappointed and actually even just a little offended because it almost seemed a mockery of the modern pow-wow in America.
The main event of the tour was reaching the Pyramid of the Sun. It was originally 246 feet high and had exactly 365 steps; one for each day of the year of the Aztec calendar. So what do you do when you find an ancient structure with usable stairs? You climb it, of course. Mexico's high elevation made it difficult, but it was well worth it. What a view! We rested for a while before climbing back down. After we quickly toured a small museum on the grounds of the park that had some original artifacts and a model of what the city had looked like during it's peak.
After this we exited the park on the opposite side and walked through another market place. We were informed that this would probably be the only chance we'd have to buy souvenirs, so Alex was on a mission. He wanted a poncho. Or a sarrape. I am still not sure what the things is called. But it's a long piece of woven cloth that slips over your head. He looked at a few and found one that has a very nice blue and white traditional pattern woven into it. We paid about 20 American dollars for it. Lord knows if we could have gotten it for less or not, but it's very nice and looks good on him. So he was happy.
By now it was lunch time. We left the market and walked down a street that was lined with restaurants. Now instead of peddlers hocking their wares there were restaurant employees armed with menus. They waved them in your faces and shouted things like, "Come eat here!" in English and Spanish. Thankfully the pastor had already selected a restaurant for our group and I had to laugh because, I kid you not, it's name was La Canada. I was in Mexico and I was about to eat in Canada. We sat down and had our choice of meals. I decided to try authentic chicken fajitas and they were delicious. They were served with fresh blue corn tortillas and awesome salsa verde and red, chipotle salsa.
Our bus was parked right next to the restaurant so after everyone was done eating we headed home. Unfortunately Lucio is the only one in our host family who speaks even just a little bit of English and he was nowhere to be found tonight. Communication was difficult between us, Margarita and Andres, but we all tried our best and managed to get quite a few smiles and laughs out of the evening (probably over our fumbling Spanish). We were offered a snack and some decaf coffee (Nescafe is surprisingly good despite the fact that it's instant). We managed to get across that we'd like to shower and so Andres lit the pilot light for their water heater.
Three more things about water in Mexico: it can be expensive, it can be hard to come by, and their water heaters are not constantly on like ours are. In fact, some homes don't even have a shower and you wash with a bucket over a drain or a toilet. We were told that when we shower to get wet, turn the water off, soap up then turn the water back on and rinse off. I think our host family has a rather small water heater because Alex showered before I did like we were told and I ended up with no hot water. He said I may not have let the hot water run long enough, but I am not sure. I am exceedingly grateful that I chose to do my hair in corn rows so that I would not have to wash it much. Hopefully my next shower will be warm.
Tomorrow is church. Both Alex and I are looking forward to it, despite the fact that we won't understand much of it. Singing is fun in any language, however, so hopefully we'll do a lot of that.
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