From the comb

I may have forgotten to mention that about 20% of the farmers in the co-op I'm working with right now also keep bees. For honey.

Oh my glorious deliciousness. Certified organic, coffee flower, honey.

That is all.

As part of their fair trade inspection, which happened over the past week, we visited 4 different apiaries--due to the lack of protective covering available, the closest I got to the beehives was about 100 feet. Even with protective covering a number of people got stung. Although, the farmers claim to be "used to it;" one even remarked to me that after ten years of beekeeping, the sting was 'in his blood.'

Honey and coffee are complementary commodities here in the highlands--and not just because coffee can be sweetened with honey (not that it it needs it, freshly roasted and ground, I've been enjoying mine without any amendment), but also because coffee plants flower. The harvest for honey is around the peak time of the coffee harvest (Jan/Feb) and the coffee flowers are just starting to show in some places in the highlands (whereas in other cooler climes the last harvest of mature coffee beans is taking place right now. Even still, there was some yet unharvested comb when we went out and we enjoyed a sample before heading to the next community.

The honey part of the cooperative is really still in its development phase, but it is pretty incredible what the farmers have been able to do in just a few years. They are also planning on expanding their production and sales to macadamia nuts, the trees provide shade in the cafetal and the nuts an additional stream of income.

 

 

The coffee harvest is wrapping up and so is my time here. Another few visits out to see what I can see and chat with folks and then I'm heading stateside to see if I can't figure out what it all means.

Toasted

Medium Toast

Forget the chocolate covering. You have not enjoyed coffee at its finest until you have had freshly roasted, still hot, coffee beans.

I have spent the last two days in the office here in the city warming myself by the roaster, sneaking a handful of hot beans (here and there), conducting interviews and sitting in on the prep for the certification renewal that is due to begin on Monday.

The Toastador

Cafe oro spinning in the roaster

Freshly roasted and on to cooling

Cooling

Cooled

A sample of the state

From the east side of the Templo de Guadalupe

I have often commented that I haven't really been much of anywhere in Chiapas, as my fieldwork takes me to very specific sites, which I continuously visit--my main travel experience being from point A to point B.

With Joe here (finally!), I got to take in a little bit more of Chiapas (including new foods, different ruins and abrupt changes in weather). Although we did take one day to visit the coffee cooperative and Joe got to meet the guys I have been hanging out with and take a tour of the bodega.

Our plans were never firm and changed as we negotiated the vicissitudes of independent travel. More than once I recognized why people prefer to pay for guided tours--if only to be shuttled from one form of transportation to the next without having to hunt it down.

Joe enjoys an elote, San Cris style (w/mayo, lime and chile)

Mostly though, for us it was about soaking up some togetherness and experiencing new sights, smells, tastes and so on. I've made an album of trip photos here.

We started on familiar terrain for me--taking in the city--I took Joe to my favorite spots and uncovered new places at the same time. I also got to experience the city after dark:

With the cathedral at my back

On the Guadalupe andador

Joe expressed an interest in seeing the ruins, and the NGO I am working with asked that we make a trip to see the governing council close by, so after a couple days in the city we headed north. It was drizzly and overcast most of our time in the town and while at the ruins, which offered respite from the 90+ temperatures and also gave the everything a different look.

Overlooking the palace

It was very different coming back in the middle of the week and at an 'off-time.' There were far fewer people (vendors and tourists alike) and there were different parts of the ruins open for exploration that had previously been closed. So we got to wander through some of the dark hallways under the palace and so on. Also, there were lizards!

Rio Ucumacinta, facing Guatemala

We then headed south to a less traveled, island ruin, which can only be reached by boat and is situated on the Ucumacinta River that divides Mexico and Guatemala. It is difficult to convey the absolute sense of creepiness I felt at this particular ruin. We had spent a few hours just getting to the boat launch that morning and thus arrived at the ruins later in the day; our boat was one of two on the beach.

Silence.

There was one other family there receiving a guided tour, but otherwise we were alone in a forested, ruined space. This ruin is far less visited and thus has more open to the public - to reach the main plaza we wended our way through the dark hall of the 'labyrinth' building.

Exit from the labyrinth

There was an energy and a stillness all at once. But after an hour or so, the clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. It gave me an inexplicable sense of unease. Although it was quite the experience, and the ruins were amazing, after a couple of hours of exploring I was glad to be on the water again. The boat ride was beautiful and I kept wanting to reach out and touch Guatemala.

The town that is the jumping off point for the island also had 'taxi' boats that you could hire to take you to the border crossing. There was something somewhat romantic to me about the idea of arriving in another country by boat. Also, the geographer in me was considering how borders are drawn and such...

This way to Guatemala (bridge crossing)

We considered it at length, thinking of rounding out our trip with another famous ruin. But the amount of time we had, the vagaries of the border crossing and the thought of 8 hours on a bus led us to head back to the center of the state to see about some lakes. We did see other entry points as we traveled south on the border highway, but they were mostly unmarked. However, we were constantly reminded of our proximity as we passed through a dozen or so military check-points. We were stopped and searched at the one closest to the city, and Joe and I had to present our passports. I must remark here that the border highway is not the only place that such checkpoints exist. I have been stopped a number of times--the militarization of this space seems to be more a campaign of intimidation (something I will discuss in more depth in my dissertation).

The temperature change moving from the border back into the valley was jarring and the rain, while not entirely unpleasant, did make our trip much shorter. Also, our frustration with the combis made it less desirable to continue to hop from one lake to the next--for example, upon boarding a combi in town I say: "We are going to the Lake of Colors." After passing the turn for the lake, the combi driver says: "No, no, you will like this other lake much better, I will drop you there." And no amount of protest changed the fact that instead of going where we wanted, we were dropped on the side of the road elsewhere.

Cinco Lagos (not the lake of colors...)

It was awfully rainy and cold, which led to us being the only tourists in the area. We had hoped to rent some kayaks and explore the blue waters, but we instead opted to head into the city and enjoy a warm meal.

Enjoying a beautiful day at the Lakes

We spent our last full day together back in San Cris, doing some shopping and watching futbol. And now I have approximately 32 days and 19 hours before I wrap up this portion of my trip and head back to the states for some conferences and classes.