Camp Aztec

 One thing (among many) that is great about having four open weeks in a new place is having enough time to just "be" in it.  A simple errand of having to book a guided hike in the cloud forest, took us up the hill into a quaint neighborhood much quieter than the hive-like city center which buzzes incessantly.   We hiked up a little further to a series of steps which lead to the stadium where every July festive, indigenous dances are held in a big celebration drawing dancers and tourists from all over Oaxaca.  We've been able to see this white stadium in the hills from all around the valley.  It's been a sort of north star for us, but we had yet been able to be near it.  Also near the stadium's location was where the Aztecs came from Mexico City area to keep an eye on the Zapotecs.  It's where their fort was stationed.

 So we climbed the steps; Abe raced ahead as usual.  It was truly delightful to find the houses and magnificent trees that border the stairs and be among them for a little while.  After seeing the stadium and imagining it packed with spectators, we descended a little stopping for some agua de jamaica.  At the top of the stairs a clever food stand was making squash blossom and mushroom quesadillas.  On our way down Penelope and I caught site of a giant 5" caterpillar.  We think it will be a hawk moth some day.   The kids played all afternoon and evening with Miles, the neighbor downstairs.  Pat and I talked about what it would be like to live along those stairs while we cooked all the vegetables in the house leaving our cellar bare.  Time to return to the mercado!

stadium in the near distance

view towards the valley 

language school along the steps

stadium

view of valley from stadium.  Santo Domingo church and friary are to the bottom left of photo

statue carved from dead tree.  stump still in ground

stinker 

atop a fancy hotel near city center

outside MARO,  an artesania collective

Tlacolula

 Today, a gray Sunday, we wandered through the Abastos market until we reached the collectivo taxis.  We shared a ride east to Tlacolula, a Zapotec town with a famously large Sunday market.  We stopped first at the church in time to see the priest and altar boys processing through the main gates.  The kids were sleepy from the ride, so we sat in the plaza and drank two tejates--- that yummy, ancient corn energy drink.

Our guide from the other day had called to our attention the walled atria in front of the churches in Mexico.  He said that the missionaries built their churches centrally in Indigenous communities because the Indians lived in small dispersed groups of half a dozen families or so.  They did not live centrally.  Anyway, the Indians refused to worship inside the churches having their own traditions of gathering around their sacred, stone platforms with naturally constructed temples atop.  Also, they mistrusted the concept of a stone ceiling which was foreign in their own edifices. So, the missionaries accommodated the indigenous preferences by constructing these open gathering spaces.

After a little rest, we winded, strayed, and spun around in this labyrinth of a market.  I wish I could take enough photos to capture the experience, but I fear being rude, and it's a challenge to stay together keeping belongings and children from getting lost.  A favorite image of mine came from a busy intersection with a line of short women grasping two or three chickens or turkeys by there legs.  At their feet were a dozen more alive, but disconcertingly immobile.  We did purchase a market bag.  I have always said that I am part mule--carrying a purse stuffed with sketchbooks, sunscreen, snacks, kleenx, toilet paper, hats, and sunglasses.  Around my other shoulder, is slung my camera and case.  In everyday life, I'm always carrying too much--most often transporting art materials to classes that I'm teaching or current projects to a family party.  Being a tote bag addict, I quickly detected the bosilla of choice of all market goers who are looking for sturdy ways to carry their purchases.  I was happy to buy one today and put it into practice immediately.

Getting hungry from the flood assaulting our senses, we wandered into the prepared food corridor and sat down immediately.  Moments later we were served memelitas, huaraches with chorizo, and aguas de tuna and horchata.  Tuna is prickly pear cactus.  This was the first time we tasted it, and it was very refreshing.  The four of us ate a filling lunch for under $8.00.  A cup of fresh fruit with chili pepper and we were set for dessert as we waited for a taxi to return us to Oaxaca.

Waiting for the taxi gave us time to sit and watch life go by in Tlacolula.  We noticed that the people were much shorter and more likely to be dressed in traditional clothes.  Sitting there long enough we were able to pick up on differences indicating a variety of cultural groups within the Zapotec.  Also, it was the first time I heard Zapotec being spoken conversationally.

We waited quite a while for a taxi to find its way to Tlacolula and after we piled in the backseat, two women who were ahead of us shared the front seat.  We put our purchases in the trunk, but the driver continued on to another part of Tlacolula to pick up some other goods and chat with a friend before reaching the way to the highway.  The women in front shifted in their seats opening the door for leg stretching and air.  We began chatting about where we are from and why we are in Oaxaca etc. All the while, we are waiting on our driver.  The one woman, a teacher, shrugged and told us this is pretty common.  The older woman received a phone call explaining with mild disgust that no, she wasn't in Oaxaca yet and that she hadn't even left Tlacolula.  He was a safe driver, though, which I appreciate more than anything, but on our way back to a "sitio" in the Abastos market, he stopped for a drive by torta sandwich ultimately picking the chile relleno.  He's efficient, I guess.

Back at our apartments as raindrops occasionally fall and then tire out quickly, we have been relaxing. The adults are with books, and kids have been playing in the courtyard.  They met a friend who lives below us, and the three kids played with their bows and arrows until the soccer ball came out.  Then the older brother played soccer, and Penelope retreated to the balcony in position of cheerleader.  
It's been a relaxing and thoughtful Sunday.

Mission: Pollito

 Our apartment at Villa Maria is furnished and decorated with Oaxacan made things.  Abraham and I were particularly attracted to this little ceramic chicken planter that was on our coffee table.  The kids would put their markers, super balls, and hello kitty stamps in it.  Both Abe and I sketched it during our first days here.  Unfortunately about a week ago Penelope knocked it over, and it broke.  We consulted with Maria regarding whether we should pay for it or try to replace it.  She recommended the latter mentioning all of the markets and artisan co-op stores may have it, but we'd probably have to ask around.  After a few stops, we found a replacement at a co-op.  It's a polla, a little larger than our other pollito, and she has a blue flower instead of yellow, but it works!  Mission accomplished.

I love all of the artesanias and leaving these co-ops like these makes me want to be an import/exporter like Art Vandalay.  The ceramics are great, but I fear I'd break them before getting them home.  So, I asked if I could take a photo of them.  The Virgenes are my favorites.  We are otherwise having  a sluggish day spending our afternoon in the cool shade of our apartment like lazy lizards.  We may venture out in the evening for a walk and sit in the zocalo.

giant puppet in front of artesanias co-op

broken pollito

new polla

sketch of original pollo

Swimming In The Mountains

 We hired an English speaking tour guide to drive us to a variety of locations east of Oaxaca city.  On our way out we stopped briefly to look at a mural depicting the life and accomplishments of Benito Juarez, the first elected President of Mexico of 100% indigenous background.  He was of Zapotec heritage from Oaxaca.  The image of the masked face with clouds (bottom center) is the indigenous symbol for Oaxaca.  The name "Oaxaca" came from the Aztec settlers who arrived in the mountains near the current urban valley.  They named it Huaxyacac, the Nahuatl phrase for "among the huaje".  Huajes referred to these native trees which are characteristic of having large seed pods.  The conquering Spaniards could not pronounce Huaxyacac and like so many who passed through Ellis Island, the region received a new name, Oaxaca. The land that is now the city wasn't occupied until the Zapotecs moved in to keep an eye on those Aztecs in the hills.

We passed some petroglyphs which were exposed after rocks fell revealing a cave wall.  Our guide thinks that it is a rain god.  We drove onward to Mitla which was built around the 8th century by the Mixtecs, an indigenous group from the north, who built their temples as a connection to the afterlife. They, like the Zapotecs, considered death as significant as life.  They believed that the religious leaders buried at this sacred site would become cloud people in the afterlife.  Zapotecs now predominately inhabit the city which was built directly onto the old sites.  Just as in so many places around the world new powers imposed their sacred sites on those of the predecessor.  In this case Spanish churches trump Indigenous temples.  Our guide recommended driving through the city rather than getting out.  There is only one site which you can approach.  This site has extraordinary and unique relief designs consisting of inlayed, cut stones absent of mortar.  The designs signify lightning, water, the Zapotec diamond, and life and death.  This is the only place in Mesoamerica where these designs exist.  To really see all of the sites, our guide said we'd have to knock on doors because peoples' homes are built on top of everything.

The main productions of Mitla are woven cotton curtains and bedspreads.  Our guide says that it sounds different in this town--the sound of the looms is different than the other ones.  We caught some weavers in action, and I was surprised to see that they pull on a rope/pulley to move their beater bar forward and back.  Yowza!  I could watch them for hours. They were fast!

Leaving Mitla, we curved our way up and around the mountains.  It was gorgeous, and I was completely impressed to see farmers plowing with their two bull system on the steepest of inclines--their burros loaded with their packs and their horses standing by awaiting their return home.  Also clinging to the cliffs were small distilleries of mescal which is an alcoholic beverage similar to tequila but made from the maguey cactus instead of the agave cactus.  The former is more green; the latter is more blue.  Our guide said he takes his guests to one particular distillery not on the tourist circuit operated by a man who believes that cold brewing the juices is better for the flavor, and he only ages the brew for a short term in the wooden barrels preferring to age the cactus (11 years) in the ground and under the sun instead.  We have yet to sample this strong, golden drink but Pat brought home a bottle tonight.  Mostly you drink it straight, but they do make Margaritas with it.

Up and up we climbed weaving through small, poor but beautiful towns.  We finally reached our destination at Hierve El Agua meaning "the water boils."  It is here in the mountain peaks that mineral springs bubble up and over.  They leave their mineral deposits along their way falling over the cliffs creating staggering stone waterfalls.  Somewhere along the way, they damned up some areas so that there are pools for swimming.  The kids were thrilled to be in water since they ask to swim daily, but I have to say there is nothing like going for a swim in the mountains.  It was breathtakingly beautiful, sacred, and all of those magical things.

On our return to Oaxaca, we stopped at San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya, a 16th century church with remarkably well preserved frescos which the Spaniards made the indigenous people paint.   Our guide showed us how carved stones from indigenous temples had been placed into the churches walls and then plastered over.  Like the fallen cave wall, the plaster fell away to reveal the indigenous carving now.

Finally we stopped at the Tule tree, a 2,000 plus year old tree that is the world's largest in circumference (138'-ish).  The locals consider the tree sacred, for good reason, and there are many efforts to keep it living--irrigation system, lightening rod, and fence.  We didn't pay to get a close look, but we were able to touch it as its cypress branches reached well over the fences to our fingertips. In Nahuatl, the tree variety is called ahuehuete meaning "old man of the water."

petroglyphs

Mitla site, bottom stones are originals

Catholic church built on top of Mixtec adobe, man made hill

Mitla church with pink stone

unique designs

Mitla weavers weaving and spinning

cotton bedspreads 

another view of the large, decorated building

detail of inlay 

Hierve El Agua

stone waterfall

the view from the water edge

trickling stream

some boiling water

in the plaza/courtyard of San Jeronimo

First church of San Jeronimo, ended up being too small

facade

tile marking the landing spot and death of a bell ringer in 1800's

indigenous carving now part of the church wall

monastery courtyard

church interior, frescoes abound, all original

organ, original, but restored

El Tule Tree!