Un héroe de Chiapas
On arrival at our appointed time, my fellow language students and I found him on his knee beside a basin mopping blood from the leg of a local woman in some distress. Family members were around her. He told us he'd be with us in a few minutes, and proceeded to clean and then bandage the woman's leg. I don't know if it was broken or what, but it looked like a serious job.
In a matter of fact manner, with the aid of a long pointer, he explained that Chiapas (Mexico's southernmost and most indigenous state; about 40 per cent of the population) is home to seven Mayan peoples - Tzotzil, Tzeltal, Chol, Zoque, Tojolabal, Mame and the Lacandón Maya living in the jungle.
The latter, he explained, are facing huge problems because of their isolation. They have resisted outside influence by living in small groups in the Lacandón jungle, but are now under pressure because their gene pool and numbers are getting smaller. Inbreeding is a big problem apparently.
Señor Castro demonstrated the various Mayan languages, (with noticeable differences between each), before going on to explain the significance of the various costumes. For example, in San Juan Chamula, the Tzotzil village where I witnessed them sacrificing chickens in the church, the locals wear costumes made of very thick black sheep's wool. San Juan is even higher in altitude than San Cristóbal, and so gets very cold at times. The local big-wigs, or village elders, wear the same thick woolen coats, although theirs are in white to differentiate rank. Sheep, all of them black for some reason, are sacred here, and so not eaten or killed for any reason. Having experienced the cold here, I can tell why they're sacred! I'm just surprised ducks aren't sacred in Ireland.
Adults too, often get badly burned, sometimes fatally. They drink an alcoholic drink so potent, (it's supposed to get rid of evil spirits,) they fall to the ground drunk in an instant. If they roll into the fire they might roll out again, if they're lucky. Oftentimes they don't roll or do anything else anymore.
Stomach-wrenching photographs of various injuries showed this is no job for the squeamish. To see this fellow devote everyday of his life to doing all he can to make others better is truly inspirational, and caused me to wonder what the hell I could do. I left a small donation at the end of his eye-opening tour, but got pissed off my myself as soon as I left the place for not leaving more. Later again I realised I'd have been pissed off with myself no matter what I left.
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