A caterpillars praise to the butterfly.

Miguel and I are the last ones up from the barnyard floor. The Zapatistas are back at their posts, so I sluggishly pull myself out of my sleeping cocoon and find Roberta outside. We get some rice drinks and cookies for breakfast then sit on the hill for hours, Roberta teaches me some Italian while watch the Zapatistas do their thing, after a while we are the only foreigners left which is nice. I'm enamored with the little girls in colourful clothes who stare at us with big curious eyes, they walk together and hold hands - four year olds looing after their six month old siblings as if they were their own. The feeling of community and family is strong.



Its time to leave so we sit outside and wait an hour for a van, Roberta worries it wont come but she soon relaxes as we play a game of throwing rocks. Back at San Cris we get some food from the markets, one of the ladies tries to rip us off with the eggs but we dont buy it, I only have five pesos on me.

"12 pesos for three eggs! That's too much!"

"They've gone up!" she yells back.

"What do you mean they've gone up!? They're eggs, not stock!"

We move on and get 6 eggs for 12 pesos at the supermarket, crazy woman. We cook a pasta feast at Casa Babylon and Roberta goes to sleep. I stay up and play guitar with Antonio, the owner, he shouts me a beer and everyone gets drunk. I pass out on one of the matresses on the floor, a French guy staying at the hostel who is also going to San Pedro will wake us up when it's time to leave.. at five a.m, what a drag, dreading the morning I got sleep with a bad headache.