After many worried thoughts of the bus tumbling down the cliffs from the swirling roads, morning came and I looked out the window to see the mist on the mountains. This was Chiapas.
As we slowly drove past the last rural buildings, it felt like a dream. Sitting on this mountain top is a small city. San Cristobal de las casas. It is a combustication of Energy, 7220ft above sea level. It is known as one of the magical cuties in Mexico, full of vibrant culture, music, and people. The colonial architecture is like urban gingerbread houses. Rich colorful palettes to match the indigenous woman in their satin shirts, embroidered with different mayan symbols of nature, love & life.
The nights in San Cristobal are like a book written in another dimension. Nothing is as it seems, even the landscape. The sky looks like a backdrop. The clouds are drifting softly, swirling around the mounds of green land. Sometimes, I felt over stimulated by the intensity of everything. The dramatic contrast of the indigenous customs and commercialism. The impression that San Cristobal leaves you, is a culture that is intense musically, visually and politically. Seeing children from age 5 begging on the street, or working, selling 10cent cigarettes and bubblegum. Poverty is a strong reality. After living there for a few months. I realized it was incredibly beautiful and incredible sad. Strong political conflicts, fighting for land, fighting for rights., fighting for peace.
San Cristobal De Las Casas, Canyon De Sumidero, Tuxtla Gutierrez, Zinacantan,
San Juan Chamula, Chiapas, Mexico
35mm Crossed Processed Slide Film Photography 2006
