Back to Mexico

 March 4, 2009

• 5:30 am leave Flores
• 8:45 am arrive Bethel, Guatemala
• 9:00 am arrive Corozal, Mexico
• 10:00 am leave Corozal
• Arrive Palenque
• Hostal Yaxkin
• Immigration
• Bank
• Plaza de Artesania
• Internet
• Dinner

 

Back to Mexico

Today I arranged to come back to Mexico. I was looking forward to coming ¨home¨ as it were.  But the day ended up being a day of culture crash and frustration.

Rather than take an 8 hour bus ride to Guatemala City and then another bus ride to the Mexican border, I decided to take a shuttle service with San Juan Tours in Flores, Guatemala (a 7 hour ride) to Palenque. Asking for a receipt for my records was a bit of trouble as receipts don´t seem to be the norm here. The day before at Tikal the driver for my ride back to Flores took my ¨ticket when I was told that I could keep it and it would serve as a receipt. He told me I had to specifically ask for a ¨factura¨--a bill. I went back to the agency and over the course of 30 minutes a receipt was created. I learned to ask for receipts especially in regards to my lodging because I was once asked to pay a night I had already paid in Mexico City some 15 years ago. It seems such an ordeal to ask for proof of payment.

The trip started at 5:00 am. We (a Spanish couple, and 2 Unitedstatans) got to the town of Bethel, Guatemala where we boarded a small motorboat up the Rio Chancala, a border between Guatemala and Mexico. The short boat trip was a pleasant surprise as I thought it would all be by van (combi, colectivo, guagua, perrera), and we got to see beautiful country side and women washing clothes along the edge of the river. Scenic indeed.

We then got to Frontera Corozal, Mexico some 30 minutes later and boarded a van to take us the rest of the way. There another Spanish couple joined the excursion. We went into the immigration office in town and I was told that I had no exit stamp in my passport. He couldn´t give me an entry stamp unless I had an exit stamp. I explained that the COPA airline receptionist took care of this when I left for Panama City. The immigration officer told me I would have to take care of this with the immigration office in Palenque.

We then got to the Corozal Bus Company office in town to pick up more passengers. The four Spanish friends had staked out seats so they could chat, but since it was taking long, the men got off to stretch their legs. That is when a woman got on and sat in the seat of one of the Spanish man’s. He told her that he had had that seat, but she refused to move. ¨I bought a ticket just like everyone else.¨ 

¨Yes but I was sitting there.¨

¨The seats belong to everyone. You did not buy a seat.¨

¨But be reasonable. I was sitting there.¨

The argument went on. And the lady sat where she sat and the Spaniard found a seat in the back.

Then we came to the edge of town, the van stopped and an official opened the door to tell us that we had to pay a toll of $M 15 pesos (USD 1.00) each. I was surprised. The Spaniards raised questions about this. Was not this covered in the cost of the ticket we purchased? Upon investigating the toll was only for the foreigners (tourists)—Guatemalans were excepted. To the Spaniards credit, they kept arguing that this was not fair, which I agreed. When I have purchased a bus ticket the driver pays the tolls on the roads; it is assumed in the cost of the ticket. But here the tourists were singled out to pay the tolls. It made me angry, but what could I do? Go back to Guatemala? That is what the official was threatening to do. I realized that we were going to sit there until we paid the fee--$USD 1. What I felt was a bribe--¨la morida¨.

Later I thought that the community of Corozal was not getting any benefits from tourists going through town on their way to and from Guatemala, and this was their way on having some foreign capital to stay in their town.

After I got a place in Palenque, I got to the immigration office by taxi. I explained what the airline attendant had taken away my VISA document and the immigration official at the Mexico airport said everything was OK. They made calls, consulted and discussed. They discussed my legality of staying here another 11 days. They determined that I could not enter unless I had left. They were flummoxed as to what to do. I feared that they´d make me pay a fine as if I had lost my VISA or worse make me leave the country. But I showed them my boarding passes to Mexico and to Panama City. They finally stamped my entry into my passport after about an hour. A small ordeal but inconvenient nonetheless. 

I was given a form to take to a bank to pay an immigration fee of $17 USD. I was told by the immigration official to make sure the bank stamped my VISA form and when I leave Mexico, to be sure to get an exit stamp. When I got to the bank I paid the fee and got a receipt but noticed that my form wasn´t stamped. I brought it to the bank teller’s attention and he said that the receipt would suffice. So I try to do what I am told, but I can´t make the officials do what they don´t do. I realize I have to learn the culture of how things are done.

After having lunch (we hadn´t eaten anything) I went to check out the town of Palenque orienting myself to its resources. At the end of walking a young boy looked up at me and asked if he could shine my shoes. ¨How much?¨ ¨5 pesos¨.  OK. So I say in what is a bus terminal to have my shoes shined, when half way through the work the bus attendant indicated to me that I should have it done outside on the sidewalk (as I was not a bus customer). So I walk to the sidewalk where he finishes my shoes. I ask if he has change and he does not. So I go to the corner grocery store to buy a piece of gum for 50 cents. But I have only a 20 peso bill. She asks for some smaller denomination because she will run out of change. Sigh. I put the gum back and get a bag of nuts (6 pesos). ¨ Can I get change for this?¨ ¨Yes¨ All I wanted was 5 pesos and change to give to the boy. I get 14 pesos back and give 10 to the boy. This has been an ongoing frustration in Mexico and Central America—the fact that I get large bills from the ATM and then many places don´t have change. You have to go to large established stores to break large bills—like supermarkets or Oxxos (7-11). Then I realize that these places are poor countries. The only cash they have on hand is what comes in, never mind about having cash to provide change to customers. 

The arguments, the tourist toll, the immigration glitch, the shoe shine incident and the lack of change all colored my day. I realize I come to this with a US mentality and expectation. I expect things quickly and expediently. I don´t expect to be taken because I am a tourist even if it is for $1.00. I expect that I change is available. But I realize that that is not the authentic experience of the people here. Yes, if you are wealthy, you can have the developed country conveniences at your finger tips (probably). But for the large majority of people, this is not reality. Things go slower here. Things go differently here. The reality of poverty is an issue here and to go on a trip and not expect to come upon this is fantasy. 

And when I look at the majority of interactions I had with the Guatemalans I am grateful. They are such a kind and even-tempered people. And today, I got to meet some very kind artisans and the work they do in the Plaza Artesano: A batik shirt man and a stone cutter, who lovingly showed me their work even though I was in a foul and frustrated mood. I should be grateful indeed.

 

 

Yesterday while I was in Palenque I noticed all the foreign tourists were wearing yellowbands indicating they had paid 22 pesos for entering the national park in which the archeological site is in. And I noticed all the Mexican tourists were not. It began to bother me that the tourists in the colectivos were singled out for this.

But I had pulled out 1000 pesos from my ATM which turned out to be $65 USD. When I arrived a month and a half ago, it was about $80 USD. This exchange rate was in my favor. But I can only imagine the havoc it is having on the Mexicans. It is as if they are getting a 20% cut in pay. It made me uneasy. On the one hand I was in a country where negotiating is part of making a deal and my skills in that were poor at best and I didn´t want to be taken advantage of. On the other hand, I was part of an unequal economic system where I, being from the US, had an upper hand in resources. What to do?

I began to feel paralyzed by the entire economic system. On one hand I thought it was unfair tobe singled out to pay a toll other passengers were not required to pay. I felt at a disadvantage in not being able to negotiate well. On the other hand, I was part of an economic powerhouse (the US) and while the US is undergoing economic crisis, it is small compared to what the Mexicans (and other Latin Americans are undergoing). The Latin American countries buying power is continually diminished as their economies are tied closely to the economic well being of developed countries. I decided that I learn to negotiate by negotiating, and a seller will not undersell his merchandise. And while I am not responsible for the power system in the world (though I participate in it), I must do what I can to change it. But most of all I must simply enjoy Mexico and its people. And though present situation is not fair, my being open and kind to Mexicans and receiving their warmth should not be hampered by economic scruples. 

 

March 5, 2009

• Palenque Ruinas
• Museo de sitio
• Palenque
• Post office
• Store
• Bakery
• Hostel
• Internet

 

Big Breakfast= Bad Idea

On the morning of leaving to San Cristobal I had a big breakfast: fruit, bread, yogurt, granola, orange juice, coffee. A bad idea before traveling. I overlooked my tia Teresa’s admonition to eat light when traveling. And I should have known that and the road from Palenque to San Cristobal de las Casas is a windy mountain road. As I boarded I made friends with a fellow traveler, a young Hungarian woman, and conversed with her as she sat behind me—another bad idea. About one and a half hours into the five hour journey I was feeling green and soon after I was vomiting in the rear bathroom (thank God, there was one). I stayed in the back of the bus with another young girl who was also motion sick (I must admit that it was nice not to be the only one sick). The bathroom was not a pretty sight. I ended up in a prone position on the seats in the rear of the bus as the vehicle veered to the left and to the right and back again and then slowed down over speed bumps. I was sending petitions to heaven that the young lady’s and my illness might soon pass. We arrived in San Cristobal at 2:30 pm, not soon enough. And I was only too happy to take a 30 minute walk downtown to a hostel, where I rested.