About Barbara Weibel

Barbara Weibel After years of working 70 hours a week at jobs I detested, I felt like the proverbial "hole in the donut" - solid on the outside, but empty on the inside. Searching for meaning in my life, I abandoned my successful but unsatisfying career and set out on a six-month solo backpacking trip around the world to pursue my true passions of travel, writing, and photography. My blog features stories about the destinations I visit, people I meet, the crazy things...Read more here....
  • Eiffel Tower, Paris, France
  • Angkor Wat Cambodia
    Angkor Wat, Siem Reap, Cambodia
  • Hill Tribe Chief Northern Thailand
    Hill Tribe Chief, Thailand
  • Machu Picchu Peru
    Machu Picchu, Peru
  • Franz Josef Glacier New Zealand
    Franz Josef Glacier, New Zealand
  • Olympic National Park Washington State
    Olympic Peninsula, Washington
  • Damnoen Saduak Floating Market Thailand
    Damnoen Saduak Floating Market, Thailand
  • Maasai Tribe Ngorongoro Tanzania
    Maasai Warriors, Ngorongoro, Tanzania
  • Lion Serengeti National Park Tanzania
    Serengeti National Park, Tanzania
  • Chichen Itza Yucatan Mexico
    Chichen Itza, Yucatan, Mexico
  • Wat Xieng Thong
    Wat Xieng Thong, Luang Prabang, Laos
  • Feast Central India
    Traditional Feast, Central India
  • China Shangahi Skyline Pudong
    Pudong Skyline, Shanghai, China
  • Honeymoon Beach Florida
    Honeymoon Beach, Florida
  • Great Wallof China Jinshanling Beijing
    Great Wall, Jinshanling, China
  • Lake Louise Banff National Park Canada
    Lake Louise, Banff National Park, Canada
  • pura ulun danu temple batur bali
    Lake Temple, Central Bali
  • Galapagos Islands Ecuador
    Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

This entry is part 14 of 15 in the series Copper Canyon, Mexico

For more than a week, Semana Santa (Easter week) celebrations have been occurring in Copper Canyon, Mexico. I was fortunate to attend two of these, one on Palm Sunday in the tiny Tarahumara village of Cusarare and another on Good Friday in Cerocahui, where I joined in a re-enactment of the crucifixion of Christ, but from the beginning I have been looking forward to the main attraction on Easter weekend. For this reason alone I have returned to Urique Canyon; I hope to witness the Tarahumara Indians perform their mystical religious rites in the village of Guapalayna.

Can’t see the above slide show about Semana Santa in Guapalayna, Mexico? Click here.

In mid-afternoon on Saturday, I joined the other guests staying at Cabanas San Isidro Lodge for the two hour drive to the bottom of the canyon. With no hotel facilities in Guapalayna, we planned to stay overnight in Urique, rising early on Easter Sunday morning for the short drive to the Tarahumara settlement. At least that was the plan. Unfortunately the hotel where we had reservations had other ideas. When we arrived, there was “no room at the inn.” Our reservations had been turned over to guests who wanted to stay more than one night. Since all accommodations in town were totally booked we drove back up to the canyon rim, placated by assurances from the lodge owner that we would return the next morning in time for the festivities.

Beginning in the mid-1600′s, Jesuit monks began converting the Tarahumara to Christianity. The Jesuits succeeded where other had failed, most likely because they allowed indigenous peoples to merge their traditional native beliefs with Catholicism, resulting in peculiar animistic/religious ceremonies that are today staged on religious sacred holidays, Easter being the most important celebration of the year. On Saturday afternoon, loose Continue reading

This entry is part 13 of 15 in the series Copper Canyon, Mexico

For the final days of Semana Santa (Easter Week) celebrations I returned to Urique Canyon, although this time I stayed atop the rim rather than at the bottom. After a hard day of travel on the economy class El Chepe, which was standing room only for the entire journey, I gratefully climbed into my plush bed at Cabana San Isidro Lodge, pulled three blankets up to my chin to ward off the high mountain chill, and was instantly, dreamlessly asleep.

Can’t view the above YouTube video of the Good Friday Celebration in Cerocahui? Click here.

The following morning, after a delicious breakfast of homemade biscuits and marmalade, French toast, and eggs scrambled with onions, peppers, and cheese; the lodge van delivered me to the small community of Cerocahui. This village of 900 residents, tucked into a high mountain valley dotted with apple orchards, is dominated by an impressive church that was constructed upon the crumbling adobe ruins of a Jesuit mission abandoned in the early Continue reading

Can’t see the above YouTube video of the drunken bash that ends the Semana Santa celebrations in the Copper Canyon, Mexico village of Guapalayna? Click here.

Can’t see the above YouTube video of the Good Friday Celebration in Cerocahui, in Mexico’s Copper Canyon? Click here.

This entry is part 12 of 15 in the series Copper Canyon, Mexico

From the moment I began planning my trip to Mexico’s Copper Canyon (Barrancas del Cobre in Spanish), I knew that visiting the villages of Urique and Batopilas were my top priorities. On the map they seemed quite close and I assumed I could start with Urique and take a short bus ride to Batopilas. I wasn’t totally wrong. Urique and Batopilas are quite close to one another…as the crow flies. But what looks like a short distance on the map is actually a rugged landscape of canyons that requires a two-night, three day hike. While I was in Urique I heard rumors that a rough new four-wheel drive road had been cut between the two villages, but I could never find anyone who knew where this mysterious road is located. In the end, I opted to do what everyone else does: I went to the town of Creel and took a five and a half hour ride down into Batopilas Canyon.

Can’t view the above YouTube video of the bus ride down into Batopilas Canyon, Mexico? Click here.

Unlike the descent into Urique Canyon, the trip to Batopilas is made in a brand spanking new bus. I boarded in front of the Los Pinos Motel at 7:30 a.m. and very shortly we were descending into the canyon on a good paved road. About three hours later the pavement was replaced by a rough dirt track that followed a torturous switchback route down into the canyon. The driver negotiated crumbling bridges and slowed to a crawl in areas where erosion had washed out a portion of the already narrow road. Brakes squealing like an upset sow, he navigated around impossible curves with overhanging rocks that left only inches of clearance – there was no room for error, since backing up was an impossibility. I gasped and held my breath where gorges plummeted thousands of feet just inches past our wheels; when I remembered to breathe the odor of hot brakes wafted through my open windows. Thankfully, the bus made several stops to let the brakes cool, but then I wondered what would happen if a tire blew or the driver had a heart attack. I could only repeat my trusty mantra: if I die here it will be doing something I love.

Can’t view the above slide show of the ride down into Batopilas canyon, Mexico? Click here.

On the canyon floor, a scattering of ranches and homes began to appear. We snaked along a crystalline river amidst rocky, cactus-dotted slopes and crossed one last bridge into the tiny town of Batopilas. As we pulled aside the town square I prepared for another sprint; it was the Wednesday before Semana Santa weekend and again I had no reservations. I dashed into Hotel Mary’s first. It was tolerable but very rough, so I ran across the plaza to Hotel Juanita, where Continue reading

This entry is part 11 of 15 in the series Copper Canyon, Mexico

The most interesting thing I could find to write about Creel is that it’s home to the worst hostel I’ve ever stayed at. Other than taking a quick stroll through the central plaza, where Tarahumara artisans display and sell their crafts, I found little that interested me in this town. Creel does, however, have one saving grace: it’s a perfect staging area for visits to the many interesting sites located in the eastern half of Copper Canyon and savvy tour operators have developed a number of well-designed trips to these sites.

Tarahumara Indian women sell their crafts in the central plaza in Creel

On my first full day in Creel I opted for a tour that visited six different locales, all well worth a visit. Our first stop was Cascada de Cusarare (Cusarare Waterfall Park), located on Tarahumara native lands a short distance outside of Creel. We paid a modest fee of $15 pesos per person (a little more than a dollar) and bumped along a rough road, churning up the omnipresent chalk-like dust that that defines the Sierra Madre Mountains. A couple of miles up the track our non-English speaking guide stopped and pointed out a path along the river for those of us who wished us to walk the remaining distance to the waterfall.

Dusty, barren landscape at Cusarare Waterfall Park (Cascada de Cusarare)

I followed it up a desolate rock-strewn hillside dotted with gnarled pines, wondering how it was possible to carve out a living on this barren terrain. For nine month each year, barely a drop of rain falls in the Sierra Madres. Trees turn tinder-dry, rivers shrink to rivulets, and everything in sight is coated in a fine layer of dust. When rains do finally arrive in June they come in deluges, flooding rivers and washing out roads. In this land of extremes the Tarahumara eke out a living, selling beadwork, carvings, and assorted other handicrafts, sometimes sitting for hours under a searing sun while awaiting the next tourist bus. Fortunately, Cusarare provides more shelter than most sites. Nearer the waterfall, pine forest thickened and branches intertwined overhead, creating a shade canopy beneath which Tarahumara women had set up their stands.

Tarahumara Indian girls at Cusarare Waterfall Park

Tarahumara Indian girls at Cusarare Waterfall Park

Tarahumara Indian girls at Cusarare Waterfall Park

Beyond the vendor area, an overlook offered a view of the waterfall, a mere trickle at this time of year. Not content to settle for the topside view, I descended about 300 concrete steps to a canyon floor choked with immense smooth boulders, providing irrefutable proof of summer inundation. Continue reading

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