Plata and Punches

Hello Everyone,
It has been a long but rather epic day. Today was our excursion to Taxco, an adorable town known for its silver mines and silver handicrafts and jewelry. We went with our university here and toured an ex-convent, a Catholic cathedral, and the town center with the silver shops. It is a truly charming place--perhaps more so than Cuernavaca. There are cobble-stone streets that are very narrow, and very few cars are permitted to drive in the downtown area--there are primarily only Volkswagon bugs that serve as taxis. Mosaics are scattered around the town, and all of the buildings are required to be white with red-orange roofs. It's a beautiful place with a thriving zocalo, and the view was truly breath-taking. It's a peaceful place nestled in the heart of mountains.

We had a long drive there, and when we arrived to Taxco, our guide stopped at a silver shop so that we could hear an explanation of how to tell whether the silver we were considering purchasing was real or not. It was at this silver shop that I had my first drink of alcohol more or less by accident. On the way there, our school guide had told us that there is a signature drink in Taxco that is similar to a margarita without the ice. When we arrived at the silver shop, we were given baby glasses with what we later guessed was just such a drink. I suppose it makes for a good story. Nothing too epic, really.

We then traveled to the center of the town and visited an ex-convent where we heard a little about the processions of Semana Santa. Every Holy Week, they have processions of 40 minutes to 4 hours where people carry wooden crosses, walk holding burning candles while chains adorn their legs, have someone beat them, or carry large, spiked logs tied to their arms. This is all meant to be a penance or a ceremonial suffering for Jesus as part of Catholicism.
Following this ex-convent, which served as a meeting place during the Mexican revolution and was adorned with numerous pictures of saints and Jesus figures, we toured the Cathedral of St. Sebastian or St. Prisca. (It has two names.) It is a huge building with several altars all covered in gold leaf. There were numerous paintings and phenomenal architectural structures inside and outside the Baroque building. Aside from the inescapable gold everywhere, I also marveled at the placement of the pulpit--hovering high over the congregation. There's a lot I could say on these subjects, but I suppose my main thought was just how very deceived we humans are by religion--the very thing we think will save us.

After these tours, we had some free time to shop for silver in the various stores surrounding the zocalo. I hate shopping. There's no real way around it. I don't like being followed by vendors or guilted into buying something I don't really want. I don't like being stared at while I'm considering an item. I'm not an impulsive person--especially when it comes to purchases. Thus, I need unadultered time to make decisions; otherwise, I merely escape the situation, buying nothing. Needless to say, while I did purchase a few small items, I found the shopping experience more stressful than really necessary.

On our way back, in a city "too dangerous to go to," we witnessed our first and only bit of violence. As we were driving down the highway, we noticed on the side of the road that a taxi had rear-ended another car. The driver and passengers (we're guessing) of the car were very angry and were yelling at the taxi driver. He was verbally retaliating until one of the three men landed a stiff punch to his jaw. It was a solid blow, but it didn't seem to affect him too much. It did, however, knock some common sense into him because he climbed back into his car--likely realizing that three men versus one seldom provides very good odds. So, yes, big bad Cuernavaca; it's so dangerous that we've seen all of only one instance of road rage in our three weeks of being here.

Anyway, tomorrow is yet another big day as we are going to Teotihuacan to climb Aztec pyramids (temples). I'm excited. I spent four years in high school hearing my Spanish teacher describe these places in detail, and I'm happy that I am able to see them for myself.

Meanwhile, only one week more until I go to Honduras. I am thoroughly excited although the anticipation almost makes me nervous. There are so many unknowns for the rest of the summer, and while I know that in reality I am blessed to have another great adventure, there's still that stubborn part of me that wants to figure out all of life's puzzles. But, what divine mysteries would I miss then?

Ever child-like,
Sarah