Heat from the asphalt permeated the thick soles of my hiking boots and perspiration beaded on my brow as I walked from the town of San Juan de Teotihuacan to the ancient ruins of Teotihuacan. The owner of the inn where I was staying said it was a 15 minute walk, yet it had been 20 minutes since I set out and still there was no sign of the entrance, thus I started asking for assistance. One young man said the park was just a short distance ahead, while an elderly man shook his head and warned, “It’s three quarters of an hour more.” But there was no turning back now; at least I knew I was headed in the right direction.
Shedding my backpack to peel off my long sleeve shirt and tie it around my clammy waist, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. A herd of unattended sheep crossed the highway, scattering along the shoulder behind me in search of fresh grass. A bit further along, the smell of dead animal assaulted my nose, followed by the unmistakable odor of a chicken farm.
Suddenly, the bramble of bushes on my right gave way to a green pasture where a herd of gently baa-ing sheep floated like fluffy cotton balls. Their protector stood nearby, sheltering in the shade of a gnarled tree.
“Buenas dias,” I greeted him. A gap-toothed smile flashed beneath his wide-brimmed straw hat as he returned my greeting.
“Puedo tomar una photo?” I asked. Can I take a photo?
“But I would break your camera, this old face is so ugly.”
I shook my head no. “Your face has character, like mine. And you have a radiant spirit.”
“Ah, this is because I live la vida tranquila – the tranquil life – the life of my sheep.”
Beaming, Gerardo beckoned me into his pasture. I found a gap in the chain link fence and followed him down as he told me about a baby ewe that he had been bottle-feeding. Its mother had been sick and wouldn’t graze, so she was not producing milk and refused to let the little one suckle.
“Chica, ven aca,” he called. “Donde estas, chiquita?” Little girl, come here. Where are you, little one?
He continued calling as we walked toward a clump of trees and soon a tiny ewe poked its head out of the bushes and walked up to Gerardo. Snatching her up in his arms, he carried the ewe back to me. The baby reveled as I scratched its head and ears, wrinkling its wet, pink nose at me, perfectly content to be tucked under Gerardo’s arm.
We chatted for a while and then I took my leave, with assurances from Gerardo that the park was just a few hundred meters further. Indeed, just around the next curve in the highway I turned into the entrance and got my first glimpse of the Teotihuacan’s Templo del Sol – the Pyramid of the Sun.
Astonishing as it was, I smiled to myself and said a silent thank you. The Temple of the Sun is a sight seen by thousands of people each year, but only I got to meet Gerardo and his baby ewe. All because I walked 30 minutes rather than taking a taxi.
i just found your blog and I think you are amazing!!
Thank you Josh!
There is so much in between each destination, especially the shorter distances 😉
It’s funny how interactions with local people can be almost more memorable than visiting the monuments – or at least make the experience so much more rich.
A lot of the memories of vacations that come to mind instantly when I think about any particular destination involve locals – the guy at my favorite crepe truck at the Trocadero in Paris, the policeman in Rome who went way out of his way to help me, our guide at the Taj. All of those individuals shaped
my experiences of their countries indelibly, whether we interacted for 5 minutes or on a regular basis for months. And like you in the case of Gerardo and his baby ewe, I was grateful to have met them all.
Like everyone else I couldn’t agree more on the walking (or biking too) rather than four wheeled transport! However, not just when travelling, I think just walking around your own city or village you can come across people and sights you wouldn’t experience otherwise. We shut ourselves into our cars and shut ourselves off from life.
go gal!
Wonderful story Barbara. And I so agree with you. You see and sense so much more when you take the time to walk, and as you have shown you can meet with fascinating people along the way. Thank you for sharing.
What a wonderful tale all because you had the patience to walk. Soemtimes the unexpected is the most rewarding travel experience.
@Ken and @Barbara — Very good point — Teotihuacan is not Mayan; however it influenced Mayan art and architecture, particularly in Copan (Honduras) and Tikal (Guatemala). We look forward to tracing these connections in our guidebook, and hopefully having some very personal stories, like yours, to tell along the way!
– Jennifer
How appropriate to find yourself at the Temple of the Sun, roasting and dripped in sweat 🙂
And awww – cute ewes!
Just to correct, Teotihuacan was a multi-ethnic state not part of the Maya civilization.
Ken: Thanks for the correction. I went back to my photos of the information signs at Teotihuacan and you are absolutely correct. I have made the appropriate changes.
What a wonderful story! We will be visiting Teotihuacan in a few weeks to finish up our guidebook on Mayan architecture and this story gives a personal touch to the site. In Copan (Honduras) we also walked instead of taking a taxi…it definitely exposes you to more experiences than just driving through.