The nights in San Cristobal are like a book written in another dimension. Nothing is as it seems, even the landscape. The sky looks like a backdrop. The clouds are drifting softly, swirling around the mounds of green land.
Sometimes I felt over stimulated by the intensity of everything. The dramatic contrast of the indigenous customs and commercialism. The impression that San Cristobal leaves you is a culture that is intense musically, visually and politically. Seeing children from age 5 begging on the street, or working, selling 10cent cigarettes and bubblegum. Poverty is a strong reality. After living there for a few months. I realized it was incredibly beautiful and incredible sad. Strong political conflicts , fighting for land, fighting for rights., fighting for peace.
