San Cristobel DE Las Casas
As night falls over San Cristóbal de las Casas, the charm of its cobblestone streets transforms into something truly magical. The already picturesque lanes become a stage for vibrant processions, one after another, weaving their way through the narrow streets.
A small group of children dressed as Mary and Joseph appear at the head of a procession. Angels with glittering wings and halos walk alongside, and Shepherds carry rustic staffs. Behind them, crowds follow, some adorned in traditional Tehuana dresses—each one a masterpiece, meticulously hand-embroidered with vibrant, colorful flowers on rich velvet, satin, or silk.
In another procession there are Parachicos dancers - each with wooden masks carefully carved and painted with fair skin, rosy cheeks, and a bold and fluffy wig made of bright yellow fibers on top. Each dancer wears a brightly colored poncho, intricately embroidered in reds, blues, greens, and yellows.
This is Las Posadas - a nine-day Christmas festival that re-enacts Mary and Joseph’s search for shelter in Bethlehem, blending faith, community, and celebration in a way that’s uniquely Mexican.
The processions dont stop during the day either. This one led by Charros, or mexican horseman (or woman), as they perform suertes which are displays of their skills on their horses.
In the heart of the city, Real de Guadalupe is a pedestrian-only street lined with colourful restaurants and bars that spill out onto the cobblestones. The celebration grows livelier at night as musicians play upbeat tunes on marimbas, children play amongst the christmas decorations, and the air is filled with the mingling scents of cinnamon, roasted nuts and freshly made churros. The music is only broken by the loud burst of firecrackers that continue through the night.
Like much of Mexico, our time in San Cristóbal revolved around wandering through its vibrant markets. The Mercado de la Caridad y Santo Domingois a labyrinth of stalls where Indigenous artisans from the surrounding hill towns bring their textiles, handmade clothing, and intricate jewelry to sell.
This maze of vendors, draped in tarps, feels like stepping into another world. It doesn’t take long before we lose all sense of direction, navigating aisles filled with embroidered blouses, woven blankets, and dazzling beads. The towering Iglesia de Santo Domingo church encircled by even more stalls, becomes our guiding landmark—our beacon for finding our way out. Eventually, we emerge, slightly heavier from the weight of a souvenir pottery jaguar.
Right next door is the José Castillo Tielemans market filled with fruits and vegetables, livestock, electronics, homewares, bakery goods, and much more. Its seemed the only thing they didnt have is English Breakfast tea after a fun experience of trying to explain what we were after using very poor Spanish.
One of the most iconic spots in the area is the bright yellow Cristóbal Cathedral, which is located within the bustling Plaza de la Paz. The cathedral was originally constructed in the year 1528 and has undergone renovations several times in the 18th and 19th centuries, particularly in response to the damage caused by large earthquakes that affected the region.
It seems there are more churches than streets, each adding to the towns charm. At either end of the city, you’ll find the Churches of San Cristóbalito and Guadalupe, perched on their respective hills. Climbing the steps up to Guadalupe Church provides a great viepoint to fully appreciate the red tile roofs, cobblestone streets and flower-strewn wrought iron balconies of this Spanish colonial town (it seems the puppy dog admired the view as much as we did).
While wandering through town, we made our way to the Church and Convent of Santo Domingo de Guzmán (Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán). Originally built in the 16th century, and even used as a jail up until this architectural gem underwent a restoration between 1999 and 2002, breathing new life into its historic beauty.
Inside, we explored the expansive courtyard and visited the Amber Museum, a fascinating space dedicated to Chiapas’ prized gemstone. Here, we learned about the formation, mining, and craftsmanship of amber, admiring an impressive collection of statues and jewelry carved from this ancient resin.
Most of the display boards were in Spanish, but fortunately, we found an English brochure at the front desk—a charming relic in its own right. Clearly typed decades ago and photocopied countless times, it added a touch of nostalgia to our visit,
Exploring further afield, we visited San Juan Chamula in the state of Chiapas. which is home to a unique church and cemetary. The village is tucked in the mountains at over 2200 metres and is an automous entity where the traditional indigenous culture of the Tzotzil Mayan people are kept alive.
Religion plays a central role to the community and at the centre of this is San Juan’s Holy building – Templo De San Juan dating from 1538. The church’s exterior is striking, its white façade adorned with vibrant green and blue trim, reflecting the colors of the surrounding mountains. Outside the church, locals in traditional woolen tunics mill about, selling candles and herbs. In the plaza in front of the church market stalls sell local foods, crafts, and textiles from under their brightly-coloured umbrellas.
The Templo is truly an unforgettable experience as the Tzotzil people have created a unique fusion of their pre-Hispanic Mayan belief system, Catholicism and surprisingly with Coca-Cola thrown into the mix.
As you step inside, you immediately notice that the rows of pews are absent, replaced by an open space where pine needles blanket the floor, creating a soft, fragrant carpet. The air is thick with the scent of burning copal incense, and thousands of candles, placed directly on the floor or in small glass holders, flickering in the dimly lit space.
Family groups claim their spot on the floor clearing the pine needles with their hands, scraped away the wax, and proceeding to melt their candles on the tiled floor. Healing rituals often involve drinking Coca-Cola or other carbonated drinks because burping is thought to expel evil spirits.
This was like no other church service I have seen I was captivated by these intriguing rituals while at the same time amazed that the building has not burnt down.
note: No photos are allowed in the church so the below are stock images
Near the Templo de San Juan lies the village graveyard, set among the ruins of the 17th-century Church of San Sebastián. The graves here reflect a deep connection to nature, each a simple mound of earth adorned with pine needles.
Historically, crosses on the graves were painted different colors to indicate the age or circumstances of the deceased. While this practice has faded, traces of it remain: black for those who passed in old age, white for the young, and blue for others.
SIDE NOTE
Traveling through Mexico, one thing that was present on almost every street corner was the classic VW Beetle. Everywhere we went, the unmistakable “dack-a-dack-a-dack” of its engine followed us, like a cheerful little drumbeat to our adventure. It was as if the entire country had decided these quirky cars were their national mascot.
Curious about this obsession, I dug a little deeper and discovered the roots of Mexico’s love affair with the Beetle. It all started in 1954 when the first VWs were imported. Fast forward to the 1960s, and Puebla opened a factory that churned out these iconic cars until 2003. To sweeten the deal, the government threw in tax breaks, making them affordable for nearly everyone. By the time Mexico City adopted them as taxis, VWs were practically a requirement for citizenship—at one point accounting for a whopping 40% of car sales.
The classic ‘Type 1’ Beetle is affectionately nicknamed Vocho or Vochito in Mexico. And you still see them everywhere: some looking like they just rolled out of a showroom, others displaying every dent, mottled paint and rust like battle scars.
As I read more about the Vocho phenomenon, I came across some colorful descriptions. One writer called them “basically sophisticated lawnmowers,” while another dubbed them “the car of the people.” Whatever your take, there’s no denying their place in Mexican culture. The Vocho isn’t just a car—it’s a vibe, a legacy, and quite possibly, the only vehicle that could make you smile even while stuck in traffic.
Like the Cities before, we could have spent several more days enjoying the vibe of San Cristobel but the adventure had to continue. This time off to Palenque.
See part 5 here