I found a religion that worships Coca Cola
Trip Start
Aug 26, 2005
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115
126
Trip End
May 26, 2008
San Cristobal de las Casas,
Central Mexico and Gulf Coast,
Mexico
Thursday, April 10, 2008
After a long and painful bus, (im loosing my tolerance towards buses. I remember way back in the day, when i enjoyed a bus ride. Now, they are pure hell) I walked a few blocks with kiwi Shannon and found a brilliant hostel called īBackpackerī. For $10 a night, it would be my home - for two nights. Equipped with a TV, Xbox, free internet, Bonfire pit, 2 friendly dogs and free breakfast, along with hammocks to sway away the day (and the hangover).
The narrow cobbled streets set out in an almost perfect grid are super easy to navigate and one quick look at the map, lead me stright to a church ontop of a big hill overlooking the city. I always make an effort to find a vantage point above cities before i start exploring them. It seems to help with navigation later. Plus, all cities look pretty from way up above.
On the way up the hill, i met a friendly pig. Tied to a tree by a tight rope around his neck, piggy was trying hard to get hold of a potato just out of reach of his snout. I thought id do my good deed of the day and handed the potato to piggy, who was so distracted, he allowed me to pat him on the head. then rolled over and got a belly scratch just like a dog. Kool piggy. I thought of taking him with me, but then thought better of the idea and headed back to town.
Jars of fighting fish were waiting at the bottom of the hill. For 10 pesos ($1 US) you could be the proud owner of a fighting fish, complete with his own plastic cup and coloured blue water. Shannon and i thought about the idea of starting an underground fighting fish rink, but then got over it and headed to the plaza an enjoyed a brilliant coffee instead.
That night, after a delicious dinner of rice, beans and chicken, I returned to the hostel complete, with possibly the 2 greatest alcohol purchases in history,
1 - Sangre de christo - literally the blood of christ. A bottle of red wine with a price tag of $6. Bargain. the blood of christ for 6 bucks, you gotta be kidding me.
2 - Agua diente - translated literally is teeth water. but they call it fire water. A horrible mix made from sugar cane, like a terrible tequila that burns all the way down and out.
The bonfire was heating up at the hostel when i returned and i joined in the circle of trust. In the first attempt at opening my holy wine, i found the cork had rotted and ended up simply pushing it into the bottle. The contents were the most toxic drink ever. Not quiet a wine, almost a port. it was a hideous mix of red goo that still remained after 4 laps around the fire. At that stage, we decidede to make an offering and doused the hot rocks with the cheap wine. It emitted a powerful odor that left us coughing.
The fire water wasnt much better, but for $1.50 for a whole 750ml, how can you complain? A few laps around with the help of some limes and a dash of sugar and we finished the bottle.
When our nightly rations of firewood werew depleted we attempted to fuel the fire with leaves and anythign else that was around, and were promptly kicked out by the night watchman.
No problem, there were a load of pubs and clubs just a few blocks away and it wasnt long before the motley crew were lubricating their mouths with some 2 for one rums. The night took a drunken turn and after 2 bars and a big club, we stumbled home at 4am. At least, thats what they told me the next day.
I woke feeling like a million dollars and tucked into the free continental breakfast, provided by the hostel.
Shannon, myself and 2 english lads joined forces and headed to the nearby town, called santa something... the name will come soon, at any rate, we caught a minivan, they call it a collectivo 20 minutes to this town where the rumor had it that they worship coca cola.
The rumors were true.
It was a little mad. After paying a few dollars to get into the church, we saw the spectacle first hand. These locals were inside a church, on their knees, with a bottle of coca cola on one side and a headless chicken on the other.
An old dude wandered around with a smoking ceramic vase, thick white smoke was pouring from the top as he moved around the church, stinking it out with burning pine needles.
I watched in wonder for 10 minutes and left the church to the huge plaza outside where every 10 minutes, the locals let off huge explosions with great big ībangersī.
The town was a little bizarre to say the least. We were a big spectacle to the locals and they were even more of a spectacle to us, so everyone had a good time and i returned to the hostel, packed up my stuff and caught another silly night time bus to Puerto Esconbdito, 10 hours away, on the Pacific Coast.
