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Published: January 19th 2012
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I've been looking forward to Oaxaca and it doesn't disappoint. A gracious town centre of cobbled uphill streets nestled amongst hills. Large lively Zocalo with huge mature trees around a central bandstand and more scarlet point settias than I've ever seen in one place, dramatic colour en masse. There's a large nativity installation there too, with walkways to observe it from every side. It's the sunday nearest to Epiphany so more celebrating today! Vendors of street food, toys and balloons are all around.
Our late afternoon arrival means we can still get to the best museum if we get a shift on. Up through attractive streets of sophisticated craft shops and restaurants we walk to Santa Domingo, a former convent, which now houses the best finds from the nearby Monte Alban temples. In front of the large cream stone church is the surreal sight of hundreds of rough clay figures. These are a modern art installation representing the '2001 Immigrants' being a large number from one representative village in Oaxaca state who emigrated to the USA. Yes mass-migration must decimate the community left behind, and departure is usually permanent as they often cross illegally.
The convent is large and
tranquil, a perfect gallery for the historic finds, with stunning twilight views out across a beautiful cactus garden to the hills beyond. As I leave there is a procession of singers in cassocks carrying lanterns just coming down the street.
The group eats at a long restaurant table right on the side of the Zocalo so we are regularly pestered by children selling wares. School is not compulsory here, so everywhere we go there are daytime kiddies too hawking snacks and accessories. They are all quite cute... so we marvel how they turn into fat adults and unhealthy looking old people. Shopping for snacks in supermarkets here I can see most food is heavily processed, with colouring sugar and additives as standard, much more than I am used to. Mexico does not appear to have any culture of health and exercise, like say Croatia. Just hair gel and glamour.
As I leave the Zocalo after dinner there is a live band starting up under the arcade at the corner, for couples to dance to. Large wooden marimbas, brass, bass, drums, keyboard; nice merengue type tunes, lovely to watch and listen.
On our morning drive out
of Oaxaca we pass a papier mache workshop making giant painted figureheads for processions. I am reminded of the 'gigantes' I have seen used in Spain for fiestas. They are held high on sticks 10ft above the crowd, their long costumes reaching to the ground.
Oaxaca state has 16 distinct ethno-linguistic groups today, amongst mountains they have all stayed separate in their customs dress and language. We are headed for Monte Alban - the remains of the sacred city of the Zapotecs, built on the highest point at the junction of 3 valleys, so it could control trade routes. It was concurrent with Teotihuacan and traded with them. Knowing how long it has taken us to make the journey in a diesel-fuelled bus I am staggered to learn this. I am even more astonished to learn the natives had no beasts of burden; donkeys horses cows and sheep were only introduced by the Europeans. People walked, and cargo was carried via a strap around the forehead (the next day I see an old lady using this method to transport a heavy sack across a square) or slung from a pole b/w 2 people.
There is no water there,
it all had to be carried up from the valley, and although the city enjoyed a long successful hold in the region, this may be the reason it declined finally. Only nobles and priests lived in the sacred city, the commoners down below in the valley. Our guide is a nice American woman Suzanne who lives locally with her Mexican husband and children. She explains things really well.
We see the tree whose resin makes the incense copal, we see the capok tree with fluff bursting out of its seed pods, and a white-flowering tree which gave the site its Spanish name - White Mount. One pyramid in the complex has steps guarded by jaguar carvings, symolising wisdom. Only the most special individuals might ascend there.
I opt for the afternoon excursion with Suzanne as well. First we go to a town famous for having a really big tree! Yes it is reeeeally big, a Moctezuma Cyprus over 1000yrs old, and the method of observing it is to be shown around by a 7yr old child with a mirror. We are not sure what to expect but the little girl confidently says 'Come on please' and we follow
as she bends to reflect a sunray like a laser pointer at a dozen feature shapes in the trunk. 'Tres Reyes, yes?' Suzanne translates. Yes, we chorus as we make out the silhouette of 3 Kings on a branch. 'Elefante, yes?' Yes. 'Monica Lewinski bottom, yes?' Yes hahaha. She is effortlessly enchanting and it's good fun. Her baby brother is hanging around too, a 3yr old chasing a football. We hope she'll go far, but given she is already working and child-minding instead of attending school, how likely is that?
Next we visit a mezcal producer and are shown the agave hearts, cooked and crushed for squeezing the juice which is fermented and distilled. When we sample the final result I go straight for the premium 7yr aged - quite nice. There are creamy fruity versions too, like coloured Baileys.
Aga had promised us that next we would go to the waving village, and indeed there they all are with big handlooms on their verandahs, waving away (she mispronounced weaving so we ribbed her about it). We are taken to a workshop that shows us the rainbow of natural dyes they still use for wool - wonderful. A
large cactus leaf has snowy bugs living on it, one is pulled off and handed to me - it's a cochineal beetle. As instructed I crush it with my thumb and a squirt of dark red stains my palm - a most valuable dye which made the ancients rich.
We are shown the carding and spinning of the wool, and the painstaking weaving of intricate patterns on the big wooden loom. The rugs they handweave here are great but way too big for most people to consider taking away. Oz couple Craig and Shakira think about getting a blue one for their new house together, but the logistics of getting it back are too tricky so none of us buy anything.
Back in Oaxaca I navigate myself to the Co-operative of Women Artisans market - an indoor court ringed with small shops on 2 levels and revel in the embroidery, carvings, tin votives and Dia de los Muertos characters. A nativity collection of tiny clay figures is too cute to resist!
We fortify and brace ourselves for the long journey ahead - an overnight bus through the mountains. It's comfy enough and not too cold with the
air conditioning, but it's still 11hrs on a bus!
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