Sunday, 29 March 2009
My poor ears
In tribune to this rather wearying nuance of mexican life, I offer my top three least favourite noises since arrival, in no particular order:
1) The gas trucks
The lifeblood of CDC, gas is a commodity worth attaining a monopoly over. This mindset is executed with gusto by the numerous service providers about town. Competing for business, trucks bearing gas canisters roll through the streets and alert the townfolk to their presence by dragging a metal chain behind them, exacting the kind of effect expected by ice cream vans, only on a much more industrial level.
Sunday, 22 March 2009
The End of The Road, by Accident

Cometan was a peaceful place, it's subtle demeanor occasionally interrupted by houses of violent colour, or one of the infrequent trees with deep purple blossom that seemed to punch out between the buildings, littering the roads with a carpet of petals. The local market was the expected cacophony of noise, smells and bizarre sights, but with the interesting difference that the people seemed to regard us with a benign interest instead of the pushy entrepreneurial optimism that seemed to be a characteristic of daily life in Chiapa de Corzo.


Reaching the park, we were dropped beside a deep green lake in the middle of a silent and dense alpine forest. After refusing offers of horseback and truck tours in favour of stretching our legs, we wandered along roads and tracks through the forest with no particlar plan, occasionally stumbling across lakes of a fantastic range of hues, pinned in by dense woodland. The rustle of the wind through the trees served to exaggerate the quietness that settled over the place, and it made me realise how noisy and relentless life in Chiapa de Corzo is.
After walking for a couple of hours, with tired grumpiness starting to set in, we wandered down a track that suddenly opened out into a lakeside fronted by a range of dusty, dilapidated huts that fortunately included a restaurant of sorts presided over by a woman with a warm smile and incredible food to match, cooked over a wood fire that brought back memories of camping trips and outdoor adventures. With full bellies and hot chocolate in hand we sat by the side of the lake and watched as the wind pushed cloud shadows over the lush shoreline on the distant banks and gusts sent patches of ripples racing across the face of the deep blue water.
Eventually, with growing curiosity we scurried around the edge of the lake investigating the strange and deserted collection of buildings. The desolate feeling of our surroundings and the eerieness of the abandoned buildings did eveything to suggest that, almost entirely by accident, we had somehow reached the end of the road. With a strange heaviness, we turned around and began the walk back up the track, leaving dusty footprints on the first part of the long path back towards Chiapa de Corzo.


Chiapa de Corzo
22nd March 2009
Friday, 13 March 2009
Meanwhile, in the rest of the world...
I´ve been subscribing to all manner of blogs and websites over the last couple of months to see just what the most crazy types of this world up to at the moment. Two fine items crossed my inbox over the last week, demonstrating wonderful examples of what can happen if you are prepared to do things a bit differently.
The first was a great find from The Adventure Blog, one of my favourite daily digests. It´s a video of some crazy and very entertaining French chaps (are there any other type?) climbing a peak in far flung Pakistan. The film is about 20 minutes long but I´d recommend watching every second. I have no idea how you build up to having the skill and insanity to do this kind of thing, but I'd love to give it a bash some day...
Elsewhere, the Bristol based loonies known as the Adventurists have opened entries for their latest race, from Peru to Paraguay. In typical Adventurist style, racers are permitted only to carve their route in a motor taxi of the poorest quality. Well worth your attention if you are chewing your arm off with boredom at your desk and are looking to opportunities to get away...
Chiapa de Corzo
13th March 2009
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
Messin´about on the river
Saturday, 7 March 2009
Evil has a name, and that name is....Nimsy?
So, Introducing my 4pm class, from the left; Emannuel, Alexan, Paola, Nimsy and Romina (Maria Fernanda, Ana Jose and Vareli sadly absent). This photo somehow manages to perfectly encapsulate the personalities of all the students. Pay special attention to Nimsy; he´s going to be an evil genius or a Broadway musical star when he´s older. I haven´t yet ascertained which is most likely.
Next are my 5pm lot, sufficiently old enough to be more inhibited in a photography situation. From the left; Carlos, Fernando, Marcos, Sergio, Jose Manuel, Citlali, Rocio, Nohemi, Mara, Jessica and Eduardo (Manuel sadly absent). This lot veer between childish excitement at the prospect of playing pictionary and being too achingly cool to practise speaking exercises.
Sadly lacking in presence from my synopsis are my 6pm unit. Due to the behemoth task that is behaviour management with a bunch of hormonally confused teenagers, I spend my lessons either exerting my limited authority with an iron fist or ecstatically riding the brief wave of cooperation and good will. In either case capturing them on film during lesson times seems like as distant a possibility as apprehending Bigfoot and engaging in a tea party with it and the Loch Ness monster. I live in hope that one day I´ll be able to distract them with candy and Britney Spears songs long enough to bag a snap without them destroying the rest of the lesson.
Last, but not least is my Saturday Bunch. Unable to engage in weekday frivolities because of working commitments and/or abject fear of my other students, they foster a more mature approach to learning until, that is, I unleash Guess Who. From the left; Laura, Amada, Carolina, Jessica, Cristina, Xavier, Manuel and Alexander.
7th March 2009