First on the agenda was finding the bookstore El Mono de Papel. We found it in a complex of revolutionary stores around a cafe. There were several handicrafts shops run by EZLN-supporting women's cooperatives from which I bought a beautiful teal pillowcover. We perused the bookstore for a while, but there was little in English and the interesting Spanish books seemed unsuitable for leisure reading. We did find a vegetarian Mexican cookbook and hope to find some ingredients back home.
We then walked around checking out shops and trying to find affordable amber jewelry. Lunch brought our return to the complex with the bookstore, called TierrAlDentro, and consisted of potato tacos and quesadillas. I also purchased some earrings.
We got to Spanish class just in time and had a long conversatoin about how Mexican traditions have changed (i.e. decayed) over the past few decades. She explained how Halloween has altered Day of the Dead customs and lamented that the huge communal festivals with theatrical performances that she remembers from her childhood have become nothing but excuses for drunken parties. It was sad to hear about these changes, apparently due to U.S. stores selling Halloween costumes, Santa Claus merchandise, and so on in Mexico.
Walking around after the lesson, we caught sight of a sign for a sushi place with a 2 for 1 deal, and we couldn't turn that down. There were many crazy rolls, and the four we ordered were exquisite. After food, we wandered around more, finding a tower that was an historical landmark, the Museo de Ambar (which was closed), and La Casa de Artensanias. At that point Frank noticed that we were late for a trip to a museum that the language school had organized, so we jogged many blocks to the school. Luckily they had not left on time.
We followed one of the teachers with several other students to the museum, which turned out to be in someone's house, unmarked, and almost across the street from our Hostel! Inside, there was some confusion, as the guide/homeowner had not been notified of our arrival (nor that of the other group that arrived seconds before us) and was already several minutes into leading a tour in French. After a few minutes of confusion in several languages (including Dutch), the guide decided he would continue in French, so Frank translated for me while the other group's guide translated into Dutch. The teacher from our school was also translating into Spanish for some of the students who did not speak French. Despite the insanity, the tour was very interesting; he had a room filled with traditional men's and women's clothing from about a dozen nearby indigenous towns and told a little story about each. This was followed by a slideshow and series of small rooms containing newspaper articles and photographs of his work with the villages, mostly medical treatment and engineering (apparently he is very educated). It was incredible to read about this mysterious man.
Avoiding the river of water that had filled the streets, we went to a bar that was advertising "artesanal" beer. We inquired inside, but they were "still waiting for some ingredients." It was a dark, bohemian place, deserted except for a woman reading a book by candlelight. Soon a jazz band came and started playing; they were good but it was very loud and we were tired so we called it a night.