Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Singapore Survival Guide
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| Your Singapore Survival Guide |
2) Tissues. It's interesting how much this is a 100% required item, and it's not for the actual tissues, although those are pretty useful too. The most use that you'll get out of your tissue packet is as a seat-reserver. When you go out to eat in a hawker center, or any other place that has open seating, the first thing that you'll do, before you go and order your food, is find a table/seat. Have a packet of tissues for every person in your party. The way you reserve said seat is by putting your tissue packet on your spot, one for every eat you're reserving. To Singaporeans, this signals a reserved seat. There might as well be a 6ft tall, 250lbs body guard sitting in the place of your tissues, fighting off potential seat-takers. Tissues = reserved. This also means that if you see a tissue packet, do not try to sit there. You're going to get a serious ear-full, probably in Mandarin.
There is some actual use for the tissues themselves. At places like hawker centers, or anywhere really, you're going to have a hard time finding napkins. In some toilets, you won't find toilet paper or paper towels. And, once again, the heat is killer and so you will be sweating. The tissues can come in handy there too.
3) Hand-sanitizer. Singapore is a very clean place. But that doesn't mean that there isn't bacteria going around everywhere. There are a lot of people in this small country. Especially if you like street food, and Singapore has a lot of good street food and hawker centers, you're going to need this as many of these places don't have easy access to a washroom. Not to mention, you're really going to want to use some of this stuff after you get off the train. Not that the train (MRT) is dirty -- in fact, it's very clean -- but there are a lot of people riding it daily.
4) SIM card. Obviously, you're going to need a phone to go with this, and generally, you can buy a really cheap phone just about anywhere. You can buy a SIM in places such as 7-elevens, post shops, and random street stalls. You'll need to show some sort of ID when you buy one. As a foreigner, you'll need to present your passport.
There are a few things that you won't be able to do with a local phone number -- you get asked for it everywhere. The most important of these things is calling a taxi. Although there are taxi stands everywhere, you will be, once in a while, stranded. And you will have to be really lucky in order to flag down a taxi. The best thing to do is call a taxi, and they'll come pick you up. Make sure to have some taxi company numbers stored in your phone. Here are some good numbers to store:
Comfort Taxi: +65 6552 1111
City Cab: +65 6555 1188
TransCab: +65 6555 3333
SMART Taxis: +65 6555 8888
Premier Taxis: +65 6363 6888
5) EZ Link card. If you want to go anywhere, you'll need this card. This card will allow you to swipe in and out of the MRT (the train system) as well as local busses. You'll be able to buy this card at any MRT station, and you can top it up online, or at any station.
6) Umbrella. It rains in Singapore. A lot. And it's not just a light misting or drizzle. When it rains in Singapore, it truly pours. It's as if the Gods decided to go play in the fire hydrant for 30min. Sometimes, the amount of water that falls from the sky makes it impossible to see even the building that's next to you. And the weather can change at a moment's notice. If you want to be on the safe side, travel with an umbrella. Even if you wake up and it's the most amazingly beautiful day you have ever seen, it has the potential, and pretty decent likelihood, of pouring down on you at some point during the day. Even if you're the type to like dancing in the rain, know that, because of the humidity, it will take some time for you to dry.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Eating our way through Chinatown, Singapore
SINGAPORE
Just about everywhere you go in the world, you're going to come across a Chinatown. So when I was told that I needed to go and check out the Singaporean Chinatown, I was a bit skeptical. But after a group of out-of-towners told our Singaporean colleague that we wanted local food, we were taken there. And I have to say it was pretty amazing.
Chinatown comes a bit out of nowhere. You are walking down the street and turn a corner, and, out of just about nowhere, you are greeted with paper lanterns and a street lined with food stalls. I can tell you that the moment I turned that corner, I got happy. The combination of the noise, smell of smoke coming off grills and the lights of the street lights and lanterns can put a smile on anyone's face.
The problem that you are faced when you come to a place like this is that you can't possibly eat everything. But I have to say that we, a group of girls from work, tried. We each ran off into separate corners of Chinatown to bring back our findings to a communal table. When we reconvened, there was Chicken Rice, Seafood Laksa, Satay, Carrot Cake (totally not what you're thinking), Sting Ray, Duck, Pepper Beef, and I'm sure some other things that I'm totally forgetting now.
I don't know which was my favorite. It was all pretty amazing. The squid satay was possibly one of the best I have ever had: amazing flavor and not so chewy that you couldn't bite through it. The carrot cake, which is a plate of cooked radishes with all sorts of other things including eggs and lots of garlic, was amazing. The radishes and daikon are cooked through to the point where they have lost all their crunchiness. Thrown together with just about everything, I have to say it's incredibly delicious.
The other dish that was really unique was the Sting Ray (photo). Yes, I ate that odd looking, incredibly graceful, Steve Irwin-killer. The dish had a thick chilli and spice seasoning on it that was almost a paste. The fish (is it a fish?) had a slight bitter tang to it, but was really great. I have to say that I was a fan of the seasoning as well.
And of course there is the Laksa. The other day, I had had a Penang Laksa, which was really good, but nothing beats a seafood curry Laksa. Let's let the photo to all the talking when it comes to this one.
And now to dessert. I ate durian. Yes. It was an experience. I was taken to the cold dessert stand which sold ice cream and other sweet, probably delicious, icy things. And there, prominently displayed on the front of the stall, was a listing for a durian dessert. I think when I was asked "how about durian?" it was actually a joke, but I, stupidly, jumped at it. "Sure!" I said "I'm totally up for it." But you have to be adventurous, right? And admit it. Even though you have heard horrible things about it, you have always been curious as to how it tastes. And so I took my durian dessert back to the table for a bite. I have to say that it really does smell pretty bad. It smells like something sweet that has gone bad, to the point that it was a slight sour stink to it as well.
And now for the taste. The first taste was actually not bad. In fact, I was expecting so much worse. It's sweet with a bit of a bitter deeper level. But what really surprised me that every further bite I took was worse and worse. The third bite was my last. At that point, all I could taste was bile. What is especially unfortunate is that that bile taste sticks with you. It sits in the the back of your mouth as well as on your lips. But hey, now I can say that I have done it and that's a good thing. I can also now identify the smell of durian, which will be a great skill to have so that I can run the other way.
Huge shout out to Rebecca who took us foreigners out to this fantastic food adventure!
Just about everywhere you go in the world, you're going to come across a Chinatown. So when I was told that I needed to go and check out the Singaporean Chinatown, I was a bit skeptical. But after a group of out-of-towners told our Singaporean colleague that we wanted local food, we were taken there. And I have to say it was pretty amazing. 
Chinatown comes a bit out of nowhere. You are walking down the street and turn a corner, and, out of just about nowhere, you are greeted with paper lanterns and a street lined with food stalls. I can tell you that the moment I turned that corner, I got happy. The combination of the noise, smell of smoke coming off grills and the lights of the street lights and lanterns can put a smile on anyone's face. |
| Carrot Cake |
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| Chicken, Prawn and Squid |
The other dish that was really unique was the Sting Ray (photo). Yes, I ate that odd looking, incredibly graceful, Steve Irwin-killer. The dish had a thick chilli and spice seasoning on it that was almost a paste. The fish (is it a fish?) had a slight bitter tang to it, but was really great. I have to say that I was a fan of the seasoning as well.
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| Seafood Curry Laksa |
And now to dessert. I ate durian. Yes. It was an experience. I was taken to the cold dessert stand which sold ice cream and other sweet, probably delicious, icy things. And there, prominently displayed on the front of the stall, was a listing for a durian dessert. I think when I was asked "how about durian?" it was actually a joke, but I, stupidly, jumped at it. "Sure!" I said "I'm totally up for it." But you have to be adventurous, right? And admit it. Even though you have heard horrible things about it, you have always been curious as to how it tastes. And so I took my durian dessert back to the table for a bite. I have to say that it really does smell pretty bad. It smells like something sweet that has gone bad, to the point that it was a slight sour stink to it as well.
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| Durian Dessert |
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| After I ate the durian |
Huge shout out to Rebecca who took us foreigners out to this fantastic food adventure!
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| Our spread |
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
First Impressions, Singapore
SINGAPORE
I recently (i.e. three days ago) took a new job for a company whose headquarters are in Singapore. Although I would be part of the San Francisco office, my first few months on the job would be in their home base. And so now I find myself in a corporate apartment in the Holland Village district of Singapore.
Before I came here I, of course, did my research on the city-state. I read about its British background, how everyone who lives here came from someplace else, and how there is a huge expat community. Great, I thought, that sounds like just about any other former British colony that I have lived in. I envisioned a mix of Asian and Southeast-Asian cultures with colonial undertones. What I didn't expect was what hit me in the face when I landed here: the opposite.
Everything is in English. Street-signs, menus, directions, warnings about not carrying durian: they're all in English. Not only that, the atmosphere is really that of a British colony. It also smells like a British colony. Historically, it makes perfect sense and now that I think about it, it's my initial assumptions that didn't really make sense. But I had expected that, being smack in the middle of Southeast Asia, it would be, you know, more Southeast Asian.
That said, my first impression of Singapore was one of awe. Sitting there in my taxi from the airport, I drove by slightly run down public housing one minute and the next, the beautiful modern architecture of the Singapore Casino area. Then through Rain tree-lined streets and then by the biggest harbor that I have ever seen in my life. The number of cranes, ships and cargo containers had me glued to the taxi window like a 5-year-old.
Many I spoke to warned me of the Singapore heat. But I have to say I love it. I'm not sure if it's the sweltering Washington DC summers of my childhood or the few years in Barbados and Sydney that got me addicted to this kind of weather, but I have to say that the heat and humidity just make me happy. Granted, I know it's not for everyone, and I can see people here really struggle with it, but I think it's wonderful.
I'm excited to start exploring Singapore. To dig deeper into the culture here as well as discover what all those food lovers are talking about!
I recently (i.e. three days ago) took a new job for a company whose headquarters are in Singapore. Although I would be part of the San Francisco office, my first few months on the job would be in their home base. And so now I find myself in a corporate apartment in the Holland Village district of Singapore.
Before I came here I, of course, did my research on the city-state. I read about its British background, how everyone who lives here came from someplace else, and how there is a huge expat community. Great, I thought, that sounds like just about any other former British colony that I have lived in. I envisioned a mix of Asian and Southeast-Asian cultures with colonial undertones. What I didn't expect was what hit me in the face when I landed here: the opposite.
Everything is in English. Street-signs, menus, directions, warnings about not carrying durian: they're all in English. Not only that, the atmosphere is really that of a British colony. It also smells like a British colony. Historically, it makes perfect sense and now that I think about it, it's my initial assumptions that didn't really make sense. But I had expected that, being smack in the middle of Southeast Asia, it would be, you know, more Southeast Asian.
That said, my first impression of Singapore was one of awe. Sitting there in my taxi from the airport, I drove by slightly run down public housing one minute and the next, the beautiful modern architecture of the Singapore Casino area. Then through Rain tree-lined streets and then by the biggest harbor that I have ever seen in my life. The number of cranes, ships and cargo containers had me glued to the taxi window like a 5-year-old.
Many I spoke to warned me of the Singapore heat. But I have to say I love it. I'm not sure if it's the sweltering Washington DC summers of my childhood or the few years in Barbados and Sydney that got me addicted to this kind of weather, but I have to say that the heat and humidity just make me happy. Granted, I know it's not for everyone, and I can see people here really struggle with it, but I think it's wonderful.
I'm excited to start exploring Singapore. To dig deeper into the culture here as well as discover what all those food lovers are talking about!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Disneyland of Mexican destinations
COZUMEL, MEXICO
I was really looking forward to going to Cozumel. When we were planning our trip, one of the places that I suggested we look for a house to rent was Cozumel. It was decided that Playa del Carmen would be more convenient because it was on the mainland. It would thus be easier to travel to different places like Tulum and Chichen Itza. But part of me was sad that we wouldn't be staying on this island, renowned for their scuba diving.
It takes a ferry ride to get to Cozumel, one that I was pumping myself up for. The Playa del Carmen ferry terminal is where the sellers are the worst. Last time I was walking in that area, I got so pissed off that I couldn't just go and walk by them to sit on the beach without them yelling at me for me to buy something. I was so pissed, in fact that it showed on my face -- on my way back, a shopkeeping actually tried apologizing to me. But now I was ready to let their attempts at my money to just wash over me. It would just background noise. They would be ruthless though, and I would have to just keep my cool. And sure enough, they tried to sell my mother, Marc and me everything from snorkel tours to all around packages to car rentals. Even in line for the ferry, they were selling. Even on the boat!
The ferry ride to Cozumel was surprisingly entertaining. There is a band that plays there. The same guys were on the ferry back, playing the same songs, so I'm sure that they really only have 5 - 10 songs in their repertoire, but I have to give it to them -- it makes the boat ride something more than a bumpy ride. I was actually happy sitting there in the sun, listening to the music. I think the singer was actually pretty entertained at the fact that my mother and I were into the music. Everyone else on the boat seemed to be Mexican. And there we were, the tourists with the video cameras, watching the Latino boys.
Although I did know that Cozumel is a cruise port (you can see the cruise ships on the horizon from Playa del Carmen), I didn't know what that meant for the island. I mean, I get that you have to cater to the cruise ships, but it would be great if I could buy something in the countries currency. But no. Everything is in US dollars. And I mean everything. I had been looking for an embroidered shirt. You know, the stereotypical Mexican kind with the hand stitched flowers on white linen. I found a store that sold Mexican clothing and was excited to go in. I found a shirt that I liked and asked how much. "$30" was the response. I stared at the guy blankly because that really didn't mean anything to me. "How much in Pesos?" I ask. He guy had to go and check with someone.
I felt like it was a bit of a watered down experience. It is beautiful there. Sandy beaches, clean streets and pretty architecture surround you. And my mother, Marc and I had a really nice time at the beach and while snorkeling. But again, when we wanted to eat, the menu was in US dollars and comprised mainly of burgers and burritos. At that point, we gave in and ordered a bucket of beers and burgers. My father would have been horrified had he been there. But that really is the way that things work in Cozumel. People go there for the weather, beaches and the prices. There really isn't that much interest in learning about Mexico, the Mayans or even just the culinary culture. I guess for that, it's back to the mainland.
In hindsight, I'm really glad that we aren't staying in Cozumel. Although everyone speaking English is very convenient, I felt like I was in a bit of an amusement park. It's beautiful for sure, and I would not complain at all at the suggestion at going back, especially to go diving, as that's something we didn't do. But to me, Cozumel that has crossed the line of touristy-ness.
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| San Francisco Beach |
It takes a ferry ride to get to Cozumel, one that I was pumping myself up for. The Playa del Carmen ferry terminal is where the sellers are the worst. Last time I was walking in that area, I got so pissed off that I couldn't just go and walk by them to sit on the beach without them yelling at me for me to buy something. I was so pissed, in fact that it showed on my face -- on my way back, a shopkeeping actually tried apologizing to me. But now I was ready to let their attempts at my money to just wash over me. It would just background noise. They would be ruthless though, and I would have to just keep my cool. And sure enough, they tried to sell my mother, Marc and me everything from snorkel tours to all around packages to car rentals. Even in line for the ferry, they were selling. Even on the boat!
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| Band on the ferry |
Although I did know that Cozumel is a cruise port (you can see the cruise ships on the horizon from Playa del Carmen), I didn't know what that meant for the island. I mean, I get that you have to cater to the cruise ships, but it would be great if I could buy something in the countries currency. But no. Everything is in US dollars. And I mean everything. I had been looking for an embroidered shirt. You know, the stereotypical Mexican kind with the hand stitched flowers on white linen. I found a store that sold Mexican clothing and was excited to go in. I found a shirt that I liked and asked how much. "$30" was the response. I stared at the guy blankly because that really didn't mean anything to me. "How much in Pesos?" I ask. He guy had to go and check with someone.
I felt like it was a bit of a watered down experience. It is beautiful there. Sandy beaches, clean streets and pretty architecture surround you. And my mother, Marc and I had a really nice time at the beach and while snorkeling. But again, when we wanted to eat, the menu was in US dollars and comprised mainly of burgers and burritos. At that point, we gave in and ordered a bucket of beers and burgers. My father would have been horrified had he been there. But that really is the way that things work in Cozumel. People go there for the weather, beaches and the prices. There really isn't that much interest in learning about Mexico, the Mayans or even just the culinary culture. I guess for that, it's back to the mainland.In hindsight, I'm really glad that we aren't staying in Cozumel. Although everyone speaking English is very convenient, I felt like I was in a bit of an amusement park. It's beautiful for sure, and I would not complain at all at the suggestion at going back, especially to go diving, as that's something we didn't do. But to me, Cozumel that has crossed the line of touristy-ness.
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| At the touristy San Francisco beach |
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Bad weather and turtles
ISLA MUJERES, MEXICO
Off the coast of Cancun, there lies the little island of Isla Mujeres. The main goal in our trip there was to go snorkeling. The Yucatan peninsula has some of the worlds best underwater sceneries and, of course, I was planning on taking full advantage. I even purchased a snorkel! (Of course, as a diver, I own a mask, but I find snorkels totally useless for that sport and so have refused to own one.) Sadly, the weather didn't agree with us. It was so cold! The tropics lie! The islanders gave us the "oh tourists" look as we wrapped our tank top, shorts and flip-flop clad bodies with towels, while they themselves wore thick wooled sweaters and, in some cases, hats. While I thought the full-on winter gear was a bit excessive, I would have been quiet happy with some of my San Francisco clothing at that moment.
Nevertheless, we weren't going to let the weather totally thwart our trip, especially since it had taken a 45min car ride and a subsequent 15min ferry ride to get there. We were going to make the most of it.
Isla Mujeres is a cute town. The streets are smaller than their mainland counterparts of Cancun and Playa del Carmen. And I have to say that the people are a bit more laid back. Not as selly-selly as they are elsewhere. I'm not saying that they don't come at you every second, wanting you to take a look at their wares, but I didn't feel like punching anyone all day!
When you get off the ferry, you are right downtown. I have learned that usually, this is not the case. The locations in which ferries (and cruises, although I have never been on one) drop you off, is usually some place where there was space on the island. In other words, there isn't much there. But I guess Isla Mujeres is small enough that the ferry terminal could be placed right downtown. A quick stroll and you will be finished with the shopping district, which sells the same trinkets that you can find anywhere else. I wonder where they come from. Sometimes you see people cutting the Mayan masks out of wood. But truthfully, they all still look the same. Is it a paint-by-numbers kind of thing?
As usual, we were looking to get off the tourist track. We hailed a cab to head to the Tortugranja, the turtle farm. The idea of the turtle farm is to replenish the diminishing turtle population in the area. I, of course, was all about it. First, I was excited to see that the cabbie didn't even try to rip us off. I'm so used to pulling the "you can't be serious" face, that when he said $50 pesos, the price that I had wanted to pay, up front, I kind of just went "oh..." and was a bit stunned. I later found out that the prices are set, and you pay according to how many zones you want to travel between.
For another $30 pesos each, we were in the turtle farm. The place is tiny, and if you want, you can get through it in about 15min. But the turtles are so cute!!! There are different bins for different species as well as different ages. And once the turtles are old enough to not get plucked up by bigger fish or birds, they are released into the wild. It's the kind of place that I'm happy to put a few more pesos towards, and so I bought a t-shirt :) I have to say that from our group, I was probably the most enthusiastic about the turtle farm. Emmy and my mother soon started wandering around the surrounding beaches, my mother is search for Margaritas. And Marc stood by my side, mainly I think in support of my obsession. But for anyone who loves turtles, I would highly recommend the Tortugranja.
Although I would have loved to explore the island a bit more, the weather really wasn't treating us well. We were all cold and soon to be wet, as the clouds opened up. We huddled up in a crepe shop for coffee and crepes while we waited for the ferry back to Cancun.
On the ferry, a whole new adventure started. That of the crying baby. I have always wondered what it must be like to be the keepers of "that" baby. The one who is screaming as if someone is trying to rob them of their livelihood. Yes, that was us. Mattheus decided the the world was just too much for him to bare and went at it. I wonder if a full grown human can scream like a 5-month-old can. It's like a whistle, blow horn and person on a mega-phone are going off at the same time. And there is just about nothing that you can do about it. In the end, he calmed down enough to be put on the boob but wow. That was a painful time, especially for my sister. I wonder if next time I'm on a plane, I will roll my eyes at the baby making it impossible for me to fly in silence or wince in sympathy.
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| Isla Mujeres from a distance |
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| Weather still holding up on the ferry ride |
Isla Mujeres is a cute town. The streets are smaller than their mainland counterparts of Cancun and Playa del Carmen. And I have to say that the people are a bit more laid back. Not as selly-selly as they are elsewhere. I'm not saying that they don't come at you every second, wanting you to take a look at their wares, but I didn't feel like punching anyone all day!
When you get off the ferry, you are right downtown. I have learned that usually, this is not the case. The locations in which ferries (and cruises, although I have never been on one) drop you off, is usually some place where there was space on the island. In other words, there isn't much there. But I guess Isla Mujeres is small enough that the ferry terminal could be placed right downtown. A quick stroll and you will be finished with the shopping district, which sells the same trinkets that you can find anywhere else. I wonder where they come from. Sometimes you see people cutting the Mayan masks out of wood. But truthfully, they all still look the same. Is it a paint-by-numbers kind of thing?
As usual, we were looking to get off the tourist track. We hailed a cab to head to the Tortugranja, the turtle farm. The idea of the turtle farm is to replenish the diminishing turtle population in the area. I, of course, was all about it. First, I was excited to see that the cabbie didn't even try to rip us off. I'm so used to pulling the "you can't be serious" face, that when he said $50 pesos, the price that I had wanted to pay, up front, I kind of just went "oh..." and was a bit stunned. I later found out that the prices are set, and you pay according to how many zones you want to travel between.
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| Amazingly cute baby turtles |
For another $30 pesos each, we were in the turtle farm. The place is tiny, and if you want, you can get through it in about 15min. But the turtles are so cute!!! There are different bins for different species as well as different ages. And once the turtles are old enough to not get plucked up by bigger fish or birds, they are released into the wild. It's the kind of place that I'm happy to put a few more pesos towards, and so I bought a t-shirt :) I have to say that from our group, I was probably the most enthusiastic about the turtle farm. Emmy and my mother soon started wandering around the surrounding beaches, my mother is search for Margaritas. And Marc stood by my side, mainly I think in support of my obsession. But for anyone who loves turtles, I would highly recommend the Tortugranja.Although I would have loved to explore the island a bit more, the weather really wasn't treating us well. We were all cold and soon to be wet, as the clouds opened up. We huddled up in a crepe shop for coffee and crepes while we waited for the ferry back to Cancun.
On the ferry, a whole new adventure started. That of the crying baby. I have always wondered what it must be like to be the keepers of "that" baby. The one who is screaming as if someone is trying to rob them of their livelihood. Yes, that was us. Mattheus decided the the world was just too much for him to bare and went at it. I wonder if a full grown human can scream like a 5-month-old can. It's like a whistle, blow horn and person on a mega-phone are going off at the same time. And there is just about nothing that you can do about it. In the end, he calmed down enough to be put on the boob but wow. That was a painful time, especially for my sister. I wonder if next time I'm on a plane, I will roll my eyes at the baby making it impossible for me to fly in silence or wince in sympathy.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Visiting the ancient (and brutal) world
CHITZEN ITZA, MEXICO
I don't think you are allowed to visit the Mayan Riviera without visiting the Mayans themselves. Or at least, what little is left of them. On a hot sunny day, my family and I headed to Chichén Itzá, the famous Mayan ruins. Or as Marc nicknamed them, much to my father's amusement (thank God): "Chicken Pizza".
There really isn't much that surrounds Chichén Itzá. Even the town directly beside it, Piste, is really only barely there. You drive and drive and drive and just as you think the nothing-ness can't go on, you are there.
As this is Mexico, there is always someone trying to sell you something. Right when you get off the toll rode, there is a guy under a sign that says "we are not a timeshare vendor", trying to sell you timeshare, as well as other packaged deals. And these people downright lie to you. Something I soon came to learn was the norm. The guy there told us that parking at Chichén Itzá would be about $120 pesos. For the dirt cheap price of something insane, he would give us parking and entrance into the park for 5 people. Not only that, we would get an all-you-can-eat buffet. We shrugged and moved along, and it's great that we did. First, parking at Chichén Itzá is $22 pesos. That's right... $22... But, we parked for free on the street about 20m from the front gate. And everyone else did that same thing, it seemed. Also, we got lunch in Piste (for 5 people) for $250 pesos.
Inside the entrance, the first thing you see and encounter for the first 100m are people yelling and screaming at you to buy something. "You, which you like?" "Best price! Which you want?" And my absolute favourite: "One dollar! Ten Pesos!" I have to hand it to them that the last one threw me for a loop. They were after all, selling masks that, in some cases, these people had carved themselves. My mother, Emmy and I looked at each other and decided to test this. But as soon as you approach them with US$1 or $10 pesos, they will tell you that that's actually the price per ounce (in the case of silver), or that's the price in Mayan dollars, or simply walk away. Really? And it's amazing. Everyone did it! Everywhere you walked it was "Only $1! Almost free!" Everywhere! It really drove me nuts. I was actually interested in a little trinket but after all that, I didn't buy anything from them. All their insane selling actually put me off spending the money that I'm sure they could have used. One person did get my money that day. A little old shriveled lady who was resting in the same shady area as we were was selling cloths that she had stitched. Emmy and I each bought a napkin for our tortillas for $20 pesos each. A total rip off, I'm sure, but I really didn't care.
It took me a good 30min to get over the insanity of the scene at Chichén Itzá. The tourists and the merchants all too ready to rip those tourists off really made my head spin a bit. But once you get past all that, Chichén Itzá is incredible. The structures are beautiful and you can only imagine the work that it took to build them. It's sad to think that so much of the history of the Mayans has been lost because no one thought to preserve it.
If you are there, I would really recommend a guide of some sort. There are men there that you can hire, but just printing something from the inter-tubes would be helpful and adequate. There are very few plaques there, and so if you are just roaming around, you 1) probably won't understand what you are seeing and 2) won't find everything. Not to mention you will blankly stare at the people clapping like their life depended on it, and wonder what they are doing. Hint.
As much as I try to see things from the Natives point of view, I have to admit that I found myself siding with the early Spanish opinion while walking through Chichén Itzá. The stories of human sacrifices are bone-chilling. Let's see -- people's hearts were cut out and those were, while preferably still beating, thrown into the fire as a sacrifice. Or how about humans, apparently around 70% of them women, thrown into Cenote Sagrado as a sacrifice. I have to say that if I, as a Spanish colonist, came across a place where there was evidence of this, I would be shocked as well. Even as a Mayan, would I really like the idea of sacrifice? I mean, as a woman, I would be more likely to be the actual sacrifice, right? Then again, maybe the Mayans weren't any more brutal than say the early Catholics -- Crusades/Inquisition anyone? Maybe they were just more upfront about it.
The dust, heat and walking that are involved to see Chichén Itzá made for a tiring day. Not a mention it took a 3 hour drive to get there, and of course a 3 hour drive to get back. Back in Playa del Carmen, we all crashed out into our beds and dreamt happy dreams of not being thrown into caves as human sacrifices.
There really isn't much that surrounds Chichén Itzá. Even the town directly beside it, Piste, is really only barely there. You drive and drive and drive and just as you think the nothing-ness can't go on, you are there.
As this is Mexico, there is always someone trying to sell you something. Right when you get off the toll rode, there is a guy under a sign that says "we are not a timeshare vendor", trying to sell you timeshare, as well as other packaged deals. And these people downright lie to you. Something I soon came to learn was the norm. The guy there told us that parking at Chichén Itzá would be about $120 pesos. For the dirt cheap price of something insane, he would give us parking and entrance into the park for 5 people. Not only that, we would get an all-you-can-eat buffet. We shrugged and moved along, and it's great that we did. First, parking at Chichén Itzá is $22 pesos. That's right... $22... But, we parked for free on the street about 20m from the front gate. And everyone else did that same thing, it seemed. Also, we got lunch in Piste (for 5 people) for $250 pesos.
Inside the entrance, the first thing you see and encounter for the first 100m are people yelling and screaming at you to buy something. "You, which you like?" "Best price! Which you want?" And my absolute favourite: "One dollar! Ten Pesos!" I have to hand it to them that the last one threw me for a loop. They were after all, selling masks that, in some cases, these people had carved themselves. My mother, Emmy and I looked at each other and decided to test this. But as soon as you approach them with US$1 or $10 pesos, they will tell you that that's actually the price per ounce (in the case of silver), or that's the price in Mayan dollars, or simply walk away. Really? And it's amazing. Everyone did it! Everywhere you walked it was "Only $1! Almost free!" Everywhere! It really drove me nuts. I was actually interested in a little trinket but after all that, I didn't buy anything from them. All their insane selling actually put me off spending the money that I'm sure they could have used. One person did get my money that day. A little old shriveled lady who was resting in the same shady area as we were was selling cloths that she had stitched. Emmy and I each bought a napkin for our tortillas for $20 pesos each. A total rip off, I'm sure, but I really didn't care.
If you are there, I would really recommend a guide of some sort. There are men there that you can hire, but just printing something from the inter-tubes would be helpful and adequate. There are very few plaques there, and so if you are just roaming around, you 1) probably won't understand what you are seeing and 2) won't find everything. Not to mention you will blankly stare at the people clapping like their life depended on it, and wonder what they are doing. Hint.
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| Our own sacrifice to Kukulkan |
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| Carvings in stone |
The dust, heat and walking that are involved to see Chichén Itzá made for a tiring day. Not a mention it took a 3 hour drive to get there, and of course a 3 hour drive to get back. Back in Playa del Carmen, we all crashed out into our beds and dreamt happy dreams of not being thrown into caves as human sacrifices.
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