Rio Grijalva and Sumidero Canyon
I board a “collectivo” minibus for a twenty minute ride to Chiapa de Corzo (10 pesos, less than $1.00), in order to hop on a 15 person outboard motorized boat down the Rio Grijalva, and through the Sumidero Canyon. The sun is out and it’s starting to heat up. I’ve already soaked my shirt in sweat. The collectivo driver is helpful. He tells me when to get off for my stop, how and where to buy the ticket to the canyon, and where to catch the return transport. I follow his instructions.
Bridge over Rio Grijalva connecting Tuxtla to Chiapa de Corzo
After arriving in Chiapa, I purchase a ticket for 160 pesos (about $16.00) and begin the short walk down to the river front to catch the boat launch. On my way I pass vendors selling an assortment of locally made goods. I’m interested in Mexico’s version of a natural fiber Panama hat. The first vendor quotes a price of 360 pesos (about $36.00). I ask for a discount, and he says that is the discounted price and lowest he’ll go. A block down the street, I ask another vendor selling the same hat, and he quotes 550 pesos ($55.00). I don’t ask about a discount, and decide to wait until I get to Panama and buy the hat there. Panama hats are made in Ecuador, but were sold in Panama in the 19th century to pioneers and settlers traveling from the east coast of the United States, through Panama, to California during the gold rush.
Dense forested high steep walls, sheer cliffs, and narrow passages squeezing the Rio Grijalva characterize the Sumidero Canyon. During the 16th century Mayan warriors after defeated by the Spanish conquistadors threw themselves off the cliffs to their demise, preferring death over enslavement by the conquerors. As you look up at the windy cliff edges you see leaves, tree branches, and foliage debris falling into the river, and can easily image Mayan fighting men and women jumping to the eternal afterlife. The river has witnessed humanities struggle against the elements, hostility and cruelty among tribes, and nature’s threats to survival. Cruising on the river through the canyon you feel tremendous energy and see spectacular vistas. It is natures beauty and frightening awesomeness at the same time.
Rio Grijalva
Entrance to Sumidero Canyon
Powerful, high water volume Rio Grijalva squeezed through the Canyon
Mayan warriors jumped to their death from the high cliffs
(note the size of the motor boat in the water under the cliffs)
Juan de Grijalva, a 16th century Spanish explorer discovered, or renamed, the river during his exploration of the Gulf of Mexico. He is credited with being the first European to set foot on mainland North America, and hearing about the great Aztec civilization and its wealth. He reported back to the governor of Cuba about his discoveries. The governor quickly organized an expedition of conquest under Hernando Cortez and the overthrow of the Aztec empire begins. I claim Juan de Grijalva as a distant relative, since all Grijalvas by definition must be related. While de Grijalva never traveled to the headwaters in Suimdero Canyon, which begins in Chiapas, I’m continuing his explorations by journeying to where the Rio Grijalva starts its long voyage to the Gulf. I trace the genesis of my exploration urges to this early adventurer. Although I do not want to meet the same ends as Juan de Grijalva. He was violently killed, the destiny of most Spanish explorers and conquistadors, in Honduras by other Spanish conquistadors in their struggle and competition to be the ultimate authority in the New World. I’ll travel to Honduras to the area of his death to do my own fact finding. I’ll let readers know the results.
Rio Grijalva seems so calm and peaceful. I see no one swimming and enjoying the warm water and I wonder why. Until we go around a curve in the canyon and see a fifteen foot crocodile sunning itself on the beach. As we approach the prehistoric creature, it opens its mouth and invites us to get closer. The bumps on its back look like hardened armor. The prominent sharp teeth and powerful jaw are massive. It looked hungry. No, I don’t think I’ll take a dip in the river of my namesake. If there’s one “croc” there’s others swimming underwater waiting to feast on human flesh and bones. I see flocks of white herons over head, monkeys in the trees, brown ducks in the water, and gray pelicans diving into the river for food. There’s plenty for the croc to eat and I see how it’s reached its enormous size. Birds of prey, brown and gray hawks, circle our boat looking for something edible. There are black, blue, and orange dragonflies skipping in the waves a few feet over the river. Many variety of yellow, orange, white, and green butterflies are doing their mating dance by the shore. This is a magnificent display of wild natures flora and fauna. I’m encouraged that a place like this still exists and I can witness it from the comfort of the speed boat. I stand in the boat to take a photo and almost fall in. I’ve got to remember this isn’t Disney Land, nor animated creatures. The croc is looking my way, so I snap two photos, quickly sit down, and won’t do that again.
If there's one, there has to be more swimming underwater
Just a little closer Manny de, I love "American" cuisine
We continue down the river through the canyon. We see lush vegetation, a series of waterfalls, and other boats taking the tour. Over the horizon dark clouds are forming. It’s the rainy season and the area usually gets rain in the early afternoon. We reach a dam, which is the turning point. There’s a restaurant and we get out of the boat to buy food and refreshments. After a fifteen minute stop, we start the trip back to the docks at Chiapa de Corzo. On our return it starts to rain. The boat operator speeds up the launch and the breeze on my wet skin and clothes gives me goose bumps and a slight chill. The croc is no longer on the shore where we saw it before. It’s hunting in the water. I don’t stand to take anymore photos.
Waterfall: our boat also went under the cool water
It's a long way down, let's get closer
Let's take a cool shower on this hot, humid morning
Taking a break at the dam before returning to the loading docks
(note the launch in the background, similar to the one we rode)
Looks like rain is coming
We arrive back at the loading docks and I’m hungry. I’m blaming the croc for stimulating my hunger with its hungry looks. I eat at a restaurant along the riverfront called “Bahias Del Grijalva”. I enjoy a rich, tomato broth, spicy chile stew of shrimp served with rice and crackers. It’s delicious, tangy and hot, though a little too salty for my taste. They love their salt in Mexico. There’s a marimba band playing in the background, in competition with a soccer game on television with the volume turned loud enough to almost drown out the band. A table of Mexican tourist are sitting next to me attempting to hold a conversation over the noise of the band and soccer game. A joke is told and everyone laughs and giggles with gusto. The atmosphere is right. The food is satisfying. A great end to my adventure on the Rio Grijalva.
Spicy shrimp with rice
Great food at Bahias Del Grijalva restaurant
And great atmosphere
Chiapa de Corzo
Chiapa is a small town on the bluffs overlooking the Rio Grijalva. There’s an ancient Spanish colonial water fountain in the center of the plaza. The mood is tranquil and slow paced. There are vendors selling wares to the people coming to take a trip through the Sumidero Canyon. No hard sell. You ask a price, negotiate, and buy if you want. The vendors do not pursue you. There is more of a colonial atmosphere, with cobbled stone roadways, gardens, and arcades bordering the plaza than Tuxtla. The church is surround by orange blowing trees and I ask a vendor selling tacos and tortas if she knows the name of the tree. She calls it a “flamboyan”, and agrees that it’s striking and very beautiful.
Trees with orange blooms surround the town of Chiapa de Corzo
Cobbled stone roadways of Chiapa
Chiapa de Corzo is a quaint little town and I enjoy spending the afternoon relaxing and taking in the sites. The Spanish being spoken sounds different from that of Northern Mexico. It’s pronounced with clicks and accent on the end of words, and the cadence is slower. I hear and understand every word.
The rain is over. The sun is high in the sky and it immediately becomes humid. It’s time to return to Tuxtla to prepare to travel to the Guatemalan border tomorrow. I need to plan carefully. Given my experience crossing the Mexican border, I am nervous about crossing another international border. I want to make sure I’m prepared. This time I’m keeping my new camera in my pocket.
On the way back to Tuxtla on the minibus, I hear a loud thumping noise in the right rear tires. The driver pulls over. There’s a milk carton size rock stuck between the dual mounted tires. Probably one of the cobblestones from the roadway in Chiapa. He attempts to dislodge it, while we wait in the hot, humid bus. After ten or fifteen minutes of working on the problem, he calls for help on his cell phone. He tells everyone to get off the bus, refunds five pesos from the ten we paid, and tells us that there will be another bus coming in the next fifteen minutes. There’s no shade, so we wait in the sun. In about fifteen minutes another minibus comes by and stops to pick us up. The driver of the disabled bus is still attempting to dislodge the rock using a bigger rock he found on the roadway. All in a days work for him.
Never did get the rock out from between the tires
When I return to Hotel San Marcos in Tuxtla ($29 dollars a night, includes free internet access), I ask Rafael the desk clerk if he knows the bus schedule to the Guatemalan border. He says no problem and immediately looks up on the internet information on buses going to Comitan and Ciudad Cuauhtemoc. Unsure how accurate the data is, he makes a series of phone calls to two different bus lines (ADO and OCC) to get current departure times, cost of tickets, and to see if any seats are still available. He takes the time to do some scenario modeling to determine what would work best, to accommodate my desire to not travel at night through Guatemala. He agrees that travel after dark through Guatemala, especially the border area, is unsafe.
He helps me develop a couple of options. We settle on me traveling to Comitan, Mexico tomorrow morning, staying the night, and from there it’s one and a half hours to the Guatemalan border. I would cross into Guatemala early the next morning and than five hours to Quetzaltenago. I should be able to complete my trip before dark. I appreciate that he went out of his way to formulate a plan with accurate, up to date information, that limits unsafe risks, is affordable, and creates reasonable assumptions on what I should expect. I’m in his debt and tell him so. He thanks me and then starts a conversation about California and my life back in the United States. He’s genuinely interested in me, in my safety, and that I have an enjoyable, safe journey.
I’m delighted I stayed in Tuxtla. I found the local culture and values enriching, and I’m satisfied that I’ve seen a part of Mexico that is reserved for the few foreign travelers who venture this way. I have a light dinner of three chicken tacos in the restaurant where I’ve been enjoying the huevos rancheros. I go to bed early, confident that I have a solid plan of action for crossing the border into Guatemala. Tomorrow is my last full day in Mexico, and it’s time to experience another country, another culture, another adventure. Get your passport ready, secure the locks on your backpack, stow some purified drinking water and light snacks, tomorrow we are back on the road heading south to the edge of the Americas -- next stop Guatemala, land of the living Mayas.
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