A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

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Day 4 - Part 2 - Tlaxcala City
2/14/06

All our afternoons were free at the MHCS, so we elected on our first day to get to know Tlaxcala City, a delightful little colonial-style town with a very prosperous look and many restored buildings on the Zocalo. Jon gave us a quick history lesson and tour of the quare, including this (left) lovely 16th century stone building that now serves as a hotel. According to Jon as well as the informational tourist sign located outside the building that appeared to be translated by the Mayor's "slow" 9th grade nephew practicing his English, the legend is that it was owned by a lawyer who served rich and poor alike. The rich paid in cash, while the poor paid in stones for the house. Nice story, but our warm feelings about the building were mostly due to its excellent public bathrooms. But on to more serious topics.

The history (and even current reputation) of Tlaxcala is intricately intertwined with the progress of Cortes and the Spanish conquest of Mexico. In early 1519 Cortes arrived in Veracruz with 500 soldiers and a couple of translators. After a couple skirmishes in which the Tlaxcatecas very much got the bad end of the deal given that they were fighting with bows and arrows against crossbows, broadswords and firearms, they cut a fairly attractive deal with the Spanish. In return for not being slaughtered wholesale, Cortes would generously allow the Tlaxcatecas to convert to Christianity and help Spain defeat Montezuma at his capital in Tenochtitlan (Mexico City was built on its ruins). Since Tlaxcala had been feuding with Montezuma and the Aztecs for ages, the decision probably wasn't a difficult one.

As regaled in yesterday's Cholula Post, the Tlaxcaltecas proceded to commit what is even now, nearly 600 years later, considered an almost unforgivable betrayal of the native peoples of Mexico by joining in the massacre of the Cholulans and fighting with Cortes in his victory over Montezuma at Tenochtitlan. In return, they received preferential treatment from the Spanish - they could own their own land, run their own semi-independent government, and could petition the King directly. This didn't last long -- by the end of the century the Spanish had reneged on most of these promises and most residents of the area were even worse off than before. Meanwhile, what seemed to be a great deal at the time had forever branded the Tlaxcaltecas as traitors. Locally, the citizens consider their state the "Cuna de la Nacion", or the Cradle of the Nation, the place where the Spanish and native influences were first melded into what is now Mexico. The rest of Mexico, slow to forget, still consider the Tlaxcaltecas vaguely untrustworthy.

A smattering of other 16th century buildings line the square, all greatly remodeled but still identifiable, along with later structures in bright colors and lovely iron balconies over elegant archways and arcades. The Palacio del Gobierno, whose dramatic arched facade has been desecrated by some truly heinous 1970's style windows and curtains above, is home to a massive mural depicting the history of Tlaxcala.

The craft market in the adjoining Plaza Xicotencatl (these names are killing me, I tell you) seemed to cater to backpackers, with t-shirts, jewelry, touristy knickknacks, woven bracelets and some local textiles, though we didn't actually see more than one other potential (foreign) tourist in town and even he was speaking Spanish. I was forced to invoke the Poncho Rule a couple of times on the shoppers in my family. This rule was established to keep excited travelers from getting so enthusiastic about the native goods of a region that they end up buying something, usually a piece of clothing, that they realize is utterly unwearable when they get home. I myself own one Ecuadorian poncho ("pura alpaca, hecho a mano"), 2 ill-fitting Peruvian woven vests that I think may have been made out of elderly, low-quality llamas, several pairs of Vietnamese sandals, and some jewelry I'd have to get a personality transplant to wear to work without sidelong looks. My sister A did purchase an adorable little wool vest for a new baby she knows. Normally this sort of vest would have absolutely required a Poncho Rule Injunction, but since babies' real purpose is to look cute in whatever ridiculous thing you dress them in, the vest was given a waiver.

Somewhat steeply up an elegant treelined stone road lay a former bell tower and 17th century convent now transformed into a regional museum (which we did not enter, as we are cretins who visited zero museums on our trip), the town's bullring, and a very undistinguished church to which I doubt Mom will for give me for requiring her to hike. Upon arrival at the top, she adopted my earlier dismissal of any further churches (I have an endless interest in the exterior of churches, and very little for their baroque interiors) -- Stairs, Check! This would imply, of course, that no further stair climbing will be necessary on this trip. I decided not to tell her that my plan for the following afternoon included a couple of small pyramids and a 7th century ruined palace atop a hill. Better to surprise her with the good news on the spot -- who doesn't enjoy the satisfaction of climbing to the top of something? I was sure she would warm to the idea once it was a fait accompli.

There's not much else to report from Tlaxcala. A very cute town, but since I had already checked off church interiors and we were too intellectually lazy for museums, there wasn't a whole lot left to accomplish apart from watcing the hundreds of locals wandering the streets, sitting in the Zocalo, and exchanging Valentines Day gifts. As in Puebla, Valentines Day was celebrated as a major holiday, and couples were everywhere with baloons and flowers. A more creative teenager we met in the Internet place had purchased a large hamster or guinea pig or some other domestic rodent for her boyfriend. When asked, she laughed and admitted that she didn't know if he would like it, and thought she would ask him first. He really didn't have much choice, though -- she loved that little rat.

That was it for Tlaxcala. Another day, another Moka FriOreo Frappe at the ICC, and we headed back to our delicious dinner and several hours of margaritas, chit-chat, cribbage and cards. You'll be happy to know that I was the big winner, and A was the big loser. Oh, except that game of Gin, which I resoundingly lost, but I'm sure that was an anomaly.

More photos of Tlaxcala:




posted by Katy at 8:48 AM