Day two, El Canyon del Sumidero y Parque Ecotouristico

Originally we had toyed with the idea of seeing Palenque while we were in Chiapas, but it's a 5 hour bus ride each way (on narrow winding mountain roads) for 2 hours at the ruins and another hour or so at Aquas Azules, so we reluctantly ruled it out and decided that we would do another kind of outdoors adventure. We headed down the mountain to this national park El Canyon del Sumidero, where we could take a lancha (motorboat) out to an ecotourist park that promised kayaking.


Because it was the later that was a huge draw for us, we decided against any tour package and decided to make our way through public transportation, catching a cab to the collectivo stand (which unlike Oaxaca are more like vans than cars, but still sit three in the front seat) and then a collectivo toward Tuxtla that let us out on the side of the highway where the driver waved in a general direction across the road toward the embarcadero, "esta mas alla" which is the general (it's over there somewhere) mode of giving directions. As we wandered down this little road we again experienced climate shock in the hot steamy lowlands outside of Chiapa del Corzo and I wondered if I had been foolish to bring my raincoat, light sweater and rebozo (all of which seemed necessities in SC).

As soon as we turned into a long dirt parking lot marked (lanchas) a tour operator asked what we wanted and when we said "to kayak" he offered us a package deal (you can only access the parque ecotouristico by lancha) and escorted us past a waiting crowd and into the back of a deep hulled metal boat, whispering that we were the only ones going to the park, so we would do half the lancha tour (in total, 2 hours) on the way there and half on the way back.


The Grijalva river moves really fast out of Tuxtla until it hits this lull created by a massive hydro-electrical dam (which marks the end of the tour) and in total it flows from the Guatemalan highlands to the Gulf of Mexico. It cuts this sharp canyon whose walls raise up to 1,000 meters above the water, cliffs which give Chiapas its name (literally cliff dwellers or something in Nuaha-- another instance in which Nuaha cultural brokers named the landscape of Mexico for the Spaniards) and from which many indigenous peoples jumped rather than be subject to the conquest (or so our guide told us).


This beginning of the canyon is the featured icon in Chiapas's coat of arms and the park has an amazing ecosystem including crocodiles, spider monkeys, and pelicans and tons of bromiliads.



We are taken into a small grotto just inside the canyon in which there is a shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe where local communities hold annual festivals.


Under the statue of the Virgin there is a watermark which they swear is an iconic representation of a decapitated Jesus (not sure what significance is made of his headlessness), which looks clearer the longer I look at it.

We were also shown this wonderful "Christmas tree" waterfall, currently dry that looks like some kind of ginormous mushroom growing out of the cliff's wall.

Soon after this we arrived at the Parque Ecotouristico where our guide whispered to us, we would get out as if this is not a regular occurance or it is something about which we must be discrete. Before we left SC nobody had been favorable about our plan and when we asked the ticket seller he muttered something about "politics" and "there are some conflicts involved" but didn't elaborate. We entered the park and it was as if we were the only ones there with a weirdly half-stocked gift shop, all of which heightened our sense that there was more to this story than anyone would tell us. Given that we had read about the Zapotista's distaste for ecotourism and had previously kidnapped kayakers (I think in the Lacondon forest, which is a whole other pile of politics), we joked that we had to avoid open spaces (like where I took this picture).


C decided that we should actually get kidnapped to meet Marcos, but only if we all agreed not to disclose that we were anthropologists (which would be a killing offense given some of the histories between anthropologists and over-studied indigenous communities)-- and we continued with these jokes for the rest of the day (we were perfectly save). But the very emptiness and the fact that we got a little orientation on how to "do" the park, made us wonder who the intended audience is.

Following instructions we climbed up moss covered paths (it was seriously slippery and I'm impressed that none of us seriously fell) through the steamy jungle to the aviary where we were introduced to Lorenzo the parrot for an obligatory photo moment-- our experience was very much structured by expectations about the order in which we should "consume" the offerings.

And then we explored the small aviary with unnamed inquisitive tucan (whose beak terrified L and who she insisted was a close relative of a dinasaur)


and a couple spider monkeys.

In the next pen over were a couple of jaguars which were totally impressive and which I had to remind myself not to try to pet through the fence-- it had these big thick lush paws. One slept the whole time we were there, while a second one came out and paced in front of us along the fence. C tried to speak "kitty speak" to it... which just continued our running joke about how we would die on this expedition.

Once we did all the expected animal stops, we finally came to the pool which we had been eagerly anticipating the whole trip. I was soooo happy to be back in the water for the first time in tooooo many months, but all too soon we had to get out so that we could kayak before the boat would pick us up again.

This is a super grainy picture L took of C and I in the pool in front of the canyon.

C and I took one kayak and L had another and we were super bummed to learn that we had to stay in this one little area (and that the kayaks had very bad floatation, so my pants were quickly soaked) and about 5 minutes into kayaking (as C and I were trying to get a rhythm down trying to figure out how we could spend 30 minutes in an area we could paddle across in 5) it began to rain.... first little drops and then the sky opened up and we were completely soaked. We laughed that other people found themselves in these sorts of positions, while we put ourselves in it. The staff called us back to ask if we wanted to continue and we decided that the best thing would be get out... L commented to one of the staff that it wasn't the best time to start and they were all "no, we wondered why you wanted to go at this time" (i.e. stupid soaked gringas) and we were all "then why did you let us go." Classic Mexico, you are responsible for your own stupid decisions.

Still soaked and now wearing all my clothes including raincoat with the rain letting up, we got into the lancha to go back to the dock, only to find out that the tour could continue on to the dam. Along the way the driver directed us toward and through a large flock of resting cormorants which quickly scattered in the skies all around us, very much like Hitchcock's birds (setting us up for what we later decided was bad karma for the rest of the boat ride). The dam is truly impressive and the guide told us that it supplies 50% of Mexico's electrical power and wryly comments that it is sent to Puebla and then distributed nationally... with very little of it ended up at the production site, Chiapas has the highest percentage of homes without electricity either because of infrastructure or because of its inaffordability. As he is talking it begins to rain again and we wonder if he is at all concerned about being out in an open reservoir in a metal boat during a lightening storm... the answer appears to be no. It quickly begins to pour again and he sends a clear plastic tarp up to us in the front of the boat powering across the reservoir against the waves making the three of us scream in pain as it feels like riding a trotting horse without posting and I thought that my internal organs were being dislodged. We huddle under the tarp with poor C unable to reach the bottom of the bottom to brace her feet, at times curling our heads under it as he shows us the same features as the guide on the way out (we are not amused, this picture not withstanding, the sunglasses were to protect us from the wind and hard spray).

Finally, as it stops raining we come across huge rafts of detritous that smells like shit (literally) for at least 1km. The guide explains that one of the feeder rivers runs directly through Tuxtla and people use the river as a sewer, so when it rains..... River cleaners come out in big boats twice a day to drag the stuff out, but can't when it rains and it continues to be a major problem.

Soaking wet, we reach the embarcadero with clear skies and beautiful afternoon light and hope that someone will ask to take us back up the mountain to SC, but that doesn't happen.


As we slosh out of the parking lot C sees a van and flags it down, but it only takes us a little ways up the highway and then we wait watching collectivos between Chiapa del Corzo and Tuxtla go by as they seem to know that they are not what we are waiting for... and one of the first class buses, whose driver waves at us... until finally after the predictable whistles from trucks full of men, a full collectivo stops to pick us up and take us back to SC.