I guess this is what you call spring

I lost an hour of my life today. Has anyone seen it? I feel like this has happened before, very recently. I was out with friends last night, and they told me about the loss, and I came close to panic. Just a total sudden absence of bearings in space (which I'm used to) and time (which I am not). Oh, Doctor Who, where are you when I need you? Speaking of which, I found out only minutes ago that David Tennant will be leaving. Leaving! But he can't! Forget Jesus, he's our only saviour!

I have being enjoying Mexico no end. Today I went to the zoo in Tuxtla, which I shared with many Mexican families enjoying their Sunday afternoon. I think that zoos are joining my list of things that remain the same wherever you go, like the inside of a movie theatre. Just like home there were kiosks where you could buy fast food and ice cream, and a souvenir shop filled with fluffy stuffed animals. There were many children. It was very hot, and I didn't have enough water. It made me dizzy when I stood up too fast.

There was a nocturnal house, but no elusive kiwis, just a lot of racoon-like mammals. I really liked the zorrillo espalda blanca (white backed zorrillo). He was fluffy and fat and had a striking white stripe on his head and back, and rolled around cleaning himself. I made the mistake of going into the insect house. Most of it seemed to be spiders, and they weren't the kind of spiders that were easy to miss, if you know what I mean. I don't like to be a wimp but that did me in. I found an excellent turtle that had a pelicularly huge head (tortuga de tres lomos). It looked a mix between an old man and the mole from Wind in the Willows, and had a snout with two perfect nostrils. In the corner a number of them seemed to be trying underwater acrobatics, all sitting on each others' backs. The scarlet macaws were striking, and huge. The panther (different from the puma!) was so cuddly looking, with huge puppy feet. The great horned owls were the grumpiest looking things ever, and so angry. If they had hands they would be writing letters to newspapers every morning. And the tapirs are not big cats! They look like huge tailless pigs with elephant snouts.

I had a good time, and a nice conversation with a man from Mexico City outside the panther cage. He asked me about New Zealand, and I said it was colder with a lot of mountains and beaches and everything was very clean. We got talking about society somehow, and I said that everybody had enough to eat and somewhere to live, and that most people were fairly equal. I feel weird when I talk about my country like it's utopia, but I can't start complaining about my student loan or John Key to someone from a country with the biggest rich-poor gap in the world. I could hear my voice saying that I was able to get reasonably-priced health care, that if I couldn't find a job then the government would give me money, that if I got hurt at work they would look after me. That yes, we had higher taxes, but we had better social security. It sounded too good to be true in a country like this.

In other San Cristobal news, I have experienced the joy that is La Casa del Pan (the best bakery out of Berkeley; well, in Mexico, anyway), found new rubbery flip flops, woken up to blue sky and magenta bouginvilla in my colourful dorm bed right next to the window. Felt chilled by the night winds. We're high up here. Yesterday I went to the centre for Mayan Medicine, run by a group who are doing an amazing job preserving traditional remedies. My scientific mind may be a little doubtful, but I'm willing to accept there's probably some placebo effect behind the waving of chickens. Although I don't know about the rule that the mother of a newborn boy cannot eat avocados for three months after the birth (or else the boy's penis becomes inflammed).

On the way to the centre, I got lost, as is my wont. I wandered into a barbed wire gate and a sign saying 'Revolution'. I thought "tensions" were meant to be over here, but this seemed to be some kind of encampment, no pasar, with a few banners proclaiming indigenous rights. It interests me, but still the only face mask I have seen was worn by a person clearing the rubbish downtown. Tomorrow I will go to Oventik, a village outside. I will report.