Maestra en México: Creel

The next "big city" stop on the train would've been Creel. As a matter of fact, whenever I would mention my plans for going to the Copper Canyon, the response was eerily always the same. "Oh, you're going to Creel? It's beautiful up that way."

Thankfully, before I booked my much more expensive hotel in Divisadero instead of in Creel, I read lots of lonely planet suggestions. Creel, it said, is just a town. An ugly one at that. Granted, I would've stayed for about a fifth of the cost, but I would've been in a town instead of in the canyon. Anything I'd wanted to do would've been extra. And out of the way.

This outing on Sunday at 9 am was to see a waterfall, some pueblos, a cave, and Creel. We would be back by 2ish, and our lunch was included.

I walked down to the lobby with my big, big backpack. I wasn't sure what all I'd need on a 5 hour expedition! I had my tour book, my big camera, my purse, my journal. I mean, a (high maintenance) girl's gotta be prepared, right?

Mario met me at the front desk and asked me if I knew the couple I'd be touring with. I told him no and he promptly went with me to introduce me.

Quetzal and César. They seemed nice enough. Early 40s probably.

As we walked to Pancho's car, César gave him a hard time for charging us 450 pesos and driving us in a Suburban. With those prices, he said, we should be in Hummers!

They both made fun of my backpack, asking how long I planned to stay in Creel. Commenting that they came with nothing. Not even a camera. I immediately offered my camera and to send them the pictures once we got back.

We got in the Suburban (I was up front with Pancho- which would serve me well on a windy road!) and the 6 am hike hit me. I was suddenly exhausted. I left the Q&A session to César and Pancho. They talked about the Tarahumara as a people. Their problems with alcoholism. Their dependence on the government handouts. The fact that the women work and provide and the men basically drink. Their change in traditional clothing over the years (The women still cover pretty much their whole bodies. Personally, I think they could use a make-over. They stick to neither matching nor coordinating patterns. Their heads are always covered. The men used to wear a dress/toga looking tunic with nothing underneath. They're now harder to distinguish from a "regular Mexican."). Their daily travels. (What takes a tour group 7 hours to climb, the Tarahumara can do in 3. Instead of looking for a path, they make their own using a machete to cut things out of their way and using branches that act as ladders to scale straight up instead of winding around. They're a people known for their speed. There's a game they play where they run for more than 24 hours carrying a ball on their feet. I can't remember if it never hits the ground. Maybe I'm making up that detail. There's a team of about 5 people I think that compete against Tarahumaras of another family/group.)

Our first stop was a little lake.

I don't know the significance of this place except that it's just pretty. It was a peaceful little place, keeping in the theme of the weekend. César and I both needed a restroom, so we stopped in this house/restaurant. We paid 5 pesos each.

Pancho waited with the Suburban and moved it around the other side of the lake. We walked and communed with nature, if you will. On our drive from there to the next few pueblos, we saw lots of rock formations in the shape of animals. It was really interesting. If I'd known we'd see so many, I'd have started documenting much sooner!

We also saw the token Mexican burro. A trip certainly wouldn't be complete without a burro siting!

Next, Pancho drove us through God's country to this waterfall. It's the dry season. I've read that the ideal times to go to the Copper Canyon is in the summer (July/August) during rainy season so everything is green and beautiful and in December when the top of the Canyon is all snowy. I missed both of those times, but as you've noticed, it didn't affect my happiness meets tranquility!

I love this picture with Pancho. Look how short he is! He held on a little tight. He actually reminded me of our school's security guard in Guatemala (he always gave me the eyebrow raise and sometimes a little wink and he carried a gun). Anyway, behind us you can see the dry rocks underneath the waterfall. During the rainy season, all you see is water behind us.

This is Quetzal sitting with a Tarahumara woman weaving a belt or shawl or something. They're very into handmade crafts. I was a sucker for the (very big) baskets later in my trip. They're made out of leaves, so not a lot of overhead there. My tour book said to always ask and rarely take pictures of these people, so after Quetzal had taken her turn and César asked me if I wanted a picture with her, I said no.

We then moseyed onto some pueblos and I got a little camera happy with the churches. They seemed to belong in a movie.

This man was playing a Tarahumara instrument that used his mouth not for breath, but for the air to ricochet off his throat. It was interesting. I wouldn't call it pretty. But definitely interesting.

As we left the first church, the townsmen were waiting for the priest to bring the message this Sunday. Sunday is a community gathering day. There was a basketball game with many spectators going on in every town we visited. Church is the main event for the day.