a tale of unfortunate events

well,
these have been some of the more interesting, frustrating, beautiful, hopeful and annoying days of my life, and certainly of this trip.

our second farm - itt - did not seem to play out as planned. we needed to apply via three page essay and letter of intention and this was not known to us until we were three days from our appointed time and in the back woods of Pakal Na, Chiapas at Arca de Oca (with the craziest mystic on the planet...). so, frustrated, we meandered into san cristobal where we met a nice bearded fellow named chris from vermont. on the suggestion of crazy alejandro from italy who runs the hostel where we stayed in san cristobal, the three of us ventured up the mountain in search of Ovantik, a community of Zapatistas who frequently take volunteers.

well.
day one began by looking in the wrong place - a few blocks off - for a collectivo, and was also severely hindered by the fact that we were supposed to be looking for a collectivo to Bochil, while we thought the name of the city was Posil (and were not to be convinced otherwise by better knowing collectivo drivers). we went the right direction, but at the first town of chamula, we encountered a very nice family who was available to give us a ride. unfortunately, they did not exactly know where they were going, so instead we went along on their family trip up the mountain to buy a grill and some cupcakes. we ambled along, probably for three hours to, really, the middle of nowhere, and through some of the most beautiful scenery i`ve ever seen (and poorly captured on film), of mountains covered in rich greenery, shooting straight out of the ground; breathtaking.

anyway, we waited as they bought said grill and ate some delicious beans and rice for six pesos at a tiny comedor up there, a deal. came back down the mountain without finding success, leaving chris off with some other truck driver, just in time for it to get dark. so, we ate some lovely icecream, sunburned, but not defeated.

our lack of defeat caused us to change our plans entirely and decide to call off our obligations to farm no. 2 and swear up and down we would find opportunities at the zapatistas tomorrow.

and so, up early, packed off 30 pounds worth of our winter clothes and gifts for the united states to lighten our burdens, sent appropriate emails and headed for the hills. we found the proper collectivo, providentially named "montana" which was headed for bochil (no such thing as posil) and headed up the mountain. we made our way flawlessly to ovantik just as the fog crept over the side of the mountain, and we arrived in a colorful, hopeful, political land of dreams. after waiting several times we learned a. about the movement by two men in masks (typical zapatista uniform) explaining in spanish, their second language, b. that we were welcome for as long as we wished to stay, but, c. there was nothing to be done, work-wise.

well. that was something to ponder. so we went and ate some delicious quesadillas at a comedor which sold coca cola (something else to ponder) in the community and sat in silence, each trying to concoct a new plan, and wallowing a bit in our misfortune.

we gathered our things, then, from where we had left them - in a large, empty barn which was to be our home for the duration of our attempted stay, and decided to head back to san cristobal before it got too late.

out to the road we went, our giant backpacks in tow (but 15 lbs lighter from all the stuff we sent home!!), awaiting a collectivo. we were passed up by two collectivos and several cars when we began to get suspicious about why they weren`t picking us up. supecting our proximity to the zapatistas, we began to walk, and it began to rain.

and suddenly, cari realized we were one bag short, which was my little blue guitar (which i couldn`t believe i hadn`t noticed), left in the back of "montana," the collectivo.

pouting, now, the fog-turned-rain became a larger burder and it must have shown, because the next collectivo who passed us actually stopped and backed up so we could squeeze in.

we caught the last collectivo down from the next city into san cristobal. the clouds parted just as we rolled into the lovely city. we pulled into a garage which contained one other collectivo... miraculous named "montana." as we exited the car, the driver of Montana eyed me and as i walked toward him, he realized yes, i was the gringa who left her blue guitar in the back of the collectivo, and it was just in the office!! (the chances of this are smaller than a needle in a haystack, believe!) so, ol`blue has been renamed Milago Azul (blue miracle), as after a vision quest.

the joy continued as we found warm elote asado (grilled corn, mm!) and we decided then and there that we would take the overnight bus to oaxaca city.

which is where we are now! and there`s too much to say about this city. it`s lovely, and i could stay forever.

but, alas, plan a has rematerialized, and we will be farming in ejutla, oaxaca until the end of the month! phew!

thus ends our tales for now. love you all, and miss you, too.

write comments or something so i know someone is reading this.