We left the city of Oaxaca at 21:30 conscious about that before we waited about ten hours of suffering through irte mountains of Chiapas, a continuous rise up to 2200 meters, passing a thousand impossible bends and curves. All in all the trip was not so bad and we also managed to crush a nap, infagottati in our sleeping bag, given the sharp drop in temperature. Around seven in the morning we finally reached the little town of
San Cristobal. To tell the truth, perhaps for a few hours' or perhaps inappropriate for the cold to which we were not accustomed, we felt a little disoriented ... in addition, for the first time, we did not have any indication on where to find a hostel, where support our tired culetto. But it was not so difficult to get out of this situation: the time to even set foot outside the railway station and just a nice young man came to suggest that he was to be an excellent arrangement. Not having any choice, we trust in this bold young and we taxi to the catapult us to accompany a destination. In fact, the hostel was not bad ... well as a discreet private room, the service included cafe, internet and cable television all in all for a modest sum.
Enjoyed a good cup of cafe and spent an hour in front of the TV (which had now remained only a vague recollection), we decided to take the first taste of the city. From now on we realized that this town was not so great, all enclosed in a few square kilometers. We immediately went to the Zocalo (main square) through the streets and houses filled with stalls and people involved in negotiations. The Zocalo was pretty much surrounded by shaded arcades under which innumerable proliferavano restaurants. Just in front of the Zocalo stood the imposing cathedral, which was also equipped with a large square that was developed in front of the main nave. This square was literally assaulted by the "campesinas," the peasant coming the immediate suburbs, which together with their broods of pargoletti, were committed to offering tourists a variety of fruit for their jobs craftsmanship. Fallen into the trap, we have sold to. After a brief visit inside the cathedral, usually characterized by mega-soaked main altar of gold and silver, we were directed to the nearby tourist office to retrieve a map of the city and further information about what was possible to visit. Among the possible solutions available to us, one in particular has attracted our interest: the Museum of Mayan Medicine, located in the first suburbs. To reach it we crossed half the city, gradually realizing that as we move towards the outside, the degrading sight of an eye. The charming colonial houses of the center, toward anonymous buildings built with cement blocks on demand, to the first shanty wood, sheet metal and mud that surrounded the area of the museum. Despite the precarious condition of the place, our attention was particularly caught dall'incredibile number of children who enjoyed playing and chasing after the barracks. But back to the museum ... at first sight appear decidedly Spartan, in keeping with the neighborhood in which it was entered. Among other things it was doing now late and we had to move if we wanted to be able to visit it in its entirety. We did it and with the support of a well written book in Italian, we were able to appreciate the full meaning of the museum. Through different halls, proposed, through images of daily life, the experience and skill of the people in the Maya derived from plants around them, what today we buy in a pharmacy. It was incredible to see how all the disparate pathology they had identified a natural remedy, with rites and gestures that were part of their culture. Beyond the rites scaramantici, almost always made with the sacrifice of a black hen, and against which we can nourish the understandable concerns, it is a fact that is undoubtedly the effectiveness of plant extracts. To demonstrate this, a part of the museum is too kind a kind of pharmaceutical factory, where they are produced and sold the old remedies Maya.
We left the museum when the sky began to darken already retracing the path in the opposite direction, visiting the market, which was closing its doors, and the basilica view that the late hour we have promised to revisit the next day. Returned to the hostel came time for a shower and then rest and go out and put something in the stomach. The choice fell upon a restaurant that brought economic tortas, the Mexican equivalent of our sandwiches and we were then directed to the Zocalo to the usual digestive stroll. Specifically our attention was drawn to a lighted arch that we somehow brought to mind the famous arch of Constantine, which stands in our beloved capital.