Benito Juar-ez-this-dam -place-anyway?

Last weekend I made a quick trip up to the mountains to get a break from the loud, congested city. Unfortunately the bus did not go to the town I was staying at so I was instead dropped off about four kilometers away as the bus made its way to the next town over. I didn’t mind though, the walk was beautiful and it was a great opportunity to take pictures. I barely noticed the weight of my big bag as I walked along listening to my iPod and taking in the mountain scenery. When I arrived in town an hour and a half later I couldn’t help but smile. My guide-book spoke highly of the town and Benito Juarez is certainly appealing however, as I walked around I kept asking myself “how is this place even on the map?” To call Benito Juarez a town at all is a bit generous. It has only two large structures, the school and the municipality building which serves as the police station, post office, hospital and no doubt several other purposes. There are also several houses, two restaurants, a general store and two lodging areas for tourists. That’s pretty much it. No other tourists that I could see and hardly any movement from the locals around town. The hostel too was practically empty; only two other backpackers shared the huge lodge with me. This was exactly what I wanted, to get away from the city and enjoy the peace and quiet of the mountains. After getting settled in I immediately strapped on both my cameras as well as my tripod in hopes of catching the famous sunset that Juarez is known for. Before heading out I decided to pick up some snacks for the trail. Unfortunately the little general store didn’t have a huge selection and what they did have was for the most part loaded with sugar and salt. They did have a nice selection of yogurt, however to my surprise none of this was refrigerated! Guess if I was in the mood for cottage cheese I’d know where to go... luckily I found some cereal bars and a bag if peanuts tucked away in the corner. I grabbed these and handed them to the clerk. When I did he just scratched his head and stared, clearly he didn’t sell these too often. For a couple of minutes he flipped through some book of his and then inspected the food. The peanuts actually had a price on the wrapper which he was very happy to point out was 69 cents. [ great, now how bout those bars] I though. He went over to where I had found everything and eyed up the stand a couple of times. I just stood there smiling in amazement as I watched this guy search around for a non-existent price-tag. After about five minutes of this I politely asked him how much he wanted for everything. Again he scratched his head. “Well, the peanuts are 69 cents.”  [Yes, yes I know about the peanuts, you’re very excited out the peanuts] He then went back on searching. He did this for a couple more minutes until he just gave up and went to the back corner. I looked over at him, bars in hand, and motioned to him. His face was blank, he didn’t know what to do. I was bewildered, was I going to have to put the food back because he didn’t know what to charge me? In the end I just offered him what I thought was a fair price and luckily he accepted; I was definitely out of the city!

After talking to the nice guy at tourist information I decided to hike the Mirrador, the peak directly behind the town. When I began I was reminded of just how high the elevation was; I was immediately out of breath. In fact, I noticed once in the Sierra Norte the climate in general changes dramatically. The weather can go from pleasantly hot to freezing and rainy in minutes. Don’t be fooled by the pictures of lush, green valleys and diverse wildlife, this place is rough and unforgiving and the people who live here are no doubt a hell of a lot tougher than me, I found this out sooner than I would have liked. As I made my way up, a cold fog began to surround me and the upper half of the mountain. I should have turned back right then but the storm was creating such photogenic forest scenes that I had to keep going. I made it all the way to the top before the rain came and I was happy to find a small shack at the peak of the mountain. I hid in there for a little bit but eventually the thought of being stuck up there after dark convinced me it would be better to brave the rain than the wild animals of Mexico. By the time I made it back to Juarez I was completely soaked and chilled to the bone. I walked to the police station where a man directed me to the comedor; or tiny eatery below. When I opened the door I saw three woman staring back at me like I was crazy. They were actually getting ready to close up shop but upon seeing my condition they were kind enough to stay a little longer. I told then I only wanted one thing, “chocolate con leche, muy caliente por favor!” They just looked at each other, smiled and prepared my hot chocolate. They also gave me some complementary pan dulce or sweet bread, which I’m finding is a great side to coffee and hot chocolate, one of Mexico’s many great comfort foods. I sat there and ate in the kitchen as the women talked amongst themselves and no doubt joked about me. The room was fairly small, about 20 by 20 and was made completely of stone. On one side they had a decent size wood-fired oven where they would make their delicious pan and the other side was almost completely occupied by the huge stone stove. The surface was basically one huge cast iron skillet and they would use it for everything from cooking tortillas to heating the hot chocolate I was now enjoying. The rest of the place was fairly Spartan, a couple of cooking ingredients, a picture of the blessed mother, a few dried flowers; this place was definitely built for function! In fact the only piece of ornament in the kitchen was the table cloth, a beat-up piece of plastic covered in Christmas designs.  I hung out here for a little longer and warmed myself by the fire and then reluctantly dragged myself back out into the rain for a sprint to my hostel.

I spent the entire next day hiking. I started off on a trail but eventually decided it would be a good idea to do a little trail-blazing. This was fun until I had to make my way down a steep, slick, nettle-infested embankment for about an hour, but hey that’s part of the adventure right? Eventually I picked up a trail and followed it down. Later I realized that had I followed it in the opposite direction I would have actually had made it back to Juarez, unfortunately I followed that dam trail all the way to the next town! It was cool though, the sights were beautiful and even though the weather was constantly threatening me with a torrential downpour the rain held out and I eventually made it back to my hostel safe and sound. When I got back I whipped out my guidebook and read the rest of the entry on the Sierra Norte: “ Be sure to hire a guide or at least buy a map at the tourist information center, the trails are poorly marked at best and you could easily find you’re self lost in the wilderness for the better part of the day.” Huh, well at least I know it’s not just me!

Unfortunately, because I got home so late I had to pack and leave right away so I got my stuff together, paid for the hostel, said my goodbyes and walked the four kilometers back to the main road. I was assured that I would easily pick up a bus or at the very least a colectivo (shared taxi) going in the direction of Oaxaca. Apparently the guys at the hostel didn’t know what they were talking because there were no buses and all of the collectivos were either full or going in the wrong direction! When I had started off I had decided to not even consider hitching but after an hour and a half of waiting in the desolate cold, and the possibility of rain and the impending darkness the idea was looking better and better. I finally gave it a shot and after a couple of failures an old pickup pulled over. It was a family of three, the parents and a teenage boy. They looked pretty harmless and they were going to Oaxaca so I through my bag in the back and hoped on in. The guy sped down the mountain at dangerous speeds, slowing only for the cows and goats in the road and before I knew it we were in Oaxaca. When I stepped out I tried to say in my best Spanish, “may I help pay for the gasoline?” I don’t know word for word what he said but I think I can pretty much guess it went something like this, “ you sure as hell better, this is a taxi you idiot!”

            Adios, Justin