Thursday, August 21, 2008

(Click on any photo to enlarge it.)

I wish I had been able to be in Oaxaca around the 20th of July because they had their gigantic celebration known as the Guelaguetza. Thousands of tourists enter the city and people from the hinterlands join in for the festival of ancient and regional dances and folkloric presentations. But back to my situation in the airport.

Since we were awake all night chatting in the food court at Mexico City's Benito Juarez International Airport, it wasn't hard to get to the United Airlines counter when they opened at 4 A.M. Usually when I'm checking in for a United flight and I have no luggage other than carry-on, I can just go to the automatic check-in machine and be done in a matter of a couple minutes. But here in Mexico the system seems to be about 20 years behind the times. Oh, they have 2 of the machines all right, but they lack the ability to check in standby passengers. So I stood in line and waited my turn.

Speaking of waiting in line, yesterday, when I wasn't boarded on my first-choice flight, I was told I had to go through the immigration line to be able to get out to the other part of the airport to see about about flights, etc. There must have been easily 250 people in the line ahead of me. It took about an hour, but at least I had a fun time talking to a young man in line beside me who was from Germany and was going to be spending 4 months in Mexico and 6 months in Brazil doing work on his doctorate in Latin American history. He speaks German, English, Portuguese, Spanish, had studied years of Latin, and was able to get around quite well everywhere. Finally arriving at the desk, I was told I hadn't really needed to wait in line, I should have just told someone to let me through. Thanks for the late advice!

No matter where you look in Mexico, you can see employees or police or other officials that seem to be superfluous. They don't really have anything they have to do so they try to look busy and official. They tell you to form a line here, or go see that person, or don't do this until a certain time, etc. It's so frustrating because the people you really need, like employees behind the counter helping get the crowds through, are too few in number. But there are dozens of other officials just standing around trying to look important.

It was chaotic when trying to get on the flight, because there are no machines that take in your boarding pass and spit out your stub. So the gate personnel try to do it all by hand and figure out who's on board, and if there are seats available, and who is traveling with an infant, and who hasn't boarded but their bags have, etc. Like I said, about 20 years behind the times.

I tried to figure out what this sign at the airport meant. Finally, when I couldn't figure out the shot/injection symbol (2nd from left) I asked one of the (many superfluous) employees, and she told me it represented the health room, you know, where they give injections. I couldn't remember a time when I or anyone I know had ever gone to the airport to get an injection, but I supposed it was possible someone might want to. In fact, in Oaxaca the other day, I noticed a painted sign on someone's garage wall, that they give injections, so maybe it's more common than I think.

I snapped a photo of this building in Oaxaca City to show that signs pop up where you least expect them. Advertised on this small edifice are a doctor's office, an X-ray lab, a lawyer's office, an automotive water pump shop, and a pizza parlor. I guess it's their version of one-stop shopping! But I don't know how much I'd trust the precision, the sterility, the worthiness of a doctor's office located over the local pizza joint! But unfortunately, that's probably just my prejudiced American way of thinking!

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to board the 7 A.M. flight to San Francisco either, so I could wait and try to LA again this evening, or do something different. I decided I couldn't take another day waiting in the airport for a possible United flight (on the west coast, they only have one flight each day to LA and one to San Francisco), so I bought a ticket on Mexicana's 11:20 A.M. flight so I had an assigned seat. I don't know what my other fellow standby passengers ended up doing - I heard them trying to get on the next flight to Washington D.C. just to get north of the border. One of the ladies was traveling with very little cash, no credit card, no phone card, and she was in an unfortunate situation. I hope she made it out soon! Foreign passengers are charged a $23 tax in cash to leave Mexico from the airport.

My flight was nice. Mexicana may still be one of the few airlines left that serves a free hot meal to each passenger and beverages, including liquor. Everything was going well until, in front of LAX, I boarded a FlyAway bus going to the wrong destination (I didn't even realize they went anywhere else but Union Station!). My sister had offered to come pick me up in LA but I had declined, thinking I could save her the hassle of having to drive that far in the traffic. I was trying to nap, since I had gotten no sleep last night and only about 4 hours the night before. When the bus stopped, I awoke to see an unfamiliar station in front of me. Turned out I was in Van Nuys! (and I'm not even sure where that is on the map!) So I had to board the next bus BACK to LAX, so I could get off, go down to the departure level, and look for the next FlyAway bus that was marked Union Station! I felt so stupid, and tired, and I had now wasted 2 hours of precious time I could have been visiting with my family. I finally arrived by MetroLink to Claremont where my dad picked me up at about 6:15 P.M.

It feels so great to be back home! I'm enjoying every creature comfort I can - like hot abundant showers, air conditioning, clothes washer and dryer, using tap water to brush my teeth, pizza delivered to the house - and appreciating what it is to live in a non-Third-World country. I visited with an American lady in the airport yesterday who has lived and worked in Mexico City for the past couple years. She leads a life that I've fantasized: living in Mexico, working from home on her computer for an American company - what could be better?!? It seemed the best of both worlds to me. It was great to hear her insights into life in Mexico. For instance, she didn't think it was a good place to raise kids because the education expectations were low - every other day seemed to be a party at school, or no school at all, or practice for a song/dance performance (actually, it was starting to sound better and better to me as a teacher! ha ha!). People will spend what little money they have on a party to invite the neighborhood to, but live in poverty the rest of the time. Or if they don't have the money for the party, they'll assign different "godparents" to pay for certain portions of the fiesta. Like for the "quinceañera" party for a girl celebrating her 15th birthday, there may be a different godparent to pay for each component: the girl's dress, the shoes, the hair adornment, the bouquet, the attendants' dresses and tuxedoes, the cake, the beverages, the rented hall, the food, the music, etc. etc. etc. With lots of people helping out, the party can go on, and everyone has a great time.

What are my best memories about this trip? First, of course, was getting to know the Eslama family better. Arturo Eslama, the father, lives and works in Grants Pass, Oregon and I got to know him through Church. In fact, his wife Cecilia had lived there a couple years ago and that's when I met her. Second, probably, was the chance to see cool places from the past and present. Third was the opportuniy to practice and learn more Spanish in real-life settings, not just from a textbook. The whole experience was fantastic and memorable! Traveling really opens your eyes to what's out in the world and helps you appreciate what's back at home, too!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008



Today was to be my homecoming, but I didn't get home (to the USA). Our morning began with a lovely plate of "chicharrones" (pork rind) cooked up in a red sauce, served with rice and tortillas, and the beverage was hibiscus flower water. We even has a little milk gelatin in mosaic form left over from yesterday. Cecilia is a truly wonderful cook and we have new and innovative menus every day!











After packing, I decided to leave my CD player with Cecilia so she could listen to hymns and some other music she was interested in. I left my new Spanish/English dictionary with Juan so he could brush up on his English. A package of new clothespins, a lime squeezer press, some batteries, and a new pair of earrings rounded out the items I gave them and hope they'll enjoy.

We only walked a short distance this morning, just to the bus stop, but this time we took a taxi so we could arrive at the airport on time. I said goodbye to my friends at the security checkpoint, sad to have this experience coming to a close. My flight to Mexico City was wonderful, and I watched out the window nearly the entire time. Monte Albán was awesome to see from the air; it truly stands out as a hill of majesty and grandeur, even though some might call it a pile of ruins. The state of Oaxaca is extremely sparsely populated in most parts, and the terrain is rugged and hilly nearly everywhere. The original name for Oaxaca was evidently "Huatyacatl", meaning the place of huajes. Here is a picture of huajes, which are long seed pods with flat green seeds inside. They can be eaten cooked or raw.

I arrived in Mexico City, hoping to catch a flight to Los Angeles tonight, but I didn't make it onto the flight. It "went out full" without me. There were several of us standby passengers who were unable to board. We all planned to return be 5 a.m. tomorrow to try our luck at getting on the next flight.

I considered doing some sightseeing, like to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe because I've always been curious to see the cloak of Juan Diego that they say is just as brilliant now as it was 400+ years ago when they say the Virgin Mary appeared to him on the hill of Tepeyac. But then I realized it was an expensive taxi ride there and I was really very tired. I realized that Cecilia and Juan have been kind enough to run me over here and over there, to show me all the local sights this past week, but I caught them napping on the bus the other day, evidently exhausted also from all the sightseeing. So I decided to spend the night in the airport, awaiting the early flight in the morning.

Troy Wilson, a returned LDS missionary from Colorado, who was on his way to visit former companions and current church members in the Guadalajara region, was kind enough to visit with us in the food court all night to help keep us safe, entertained and awake.

Catalina, from Chicago, joined us and we had a very pleasant time; well, if you don't count the 40 hours of going with no sleep!

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

We had some fun after lunch today when we invited the LDS missionaries over for a visit. Elder Eyre is from Utah and his companion is Elder Ramirez, from northern Mexico. I had bought some "chapulines" at the marketplace to try myself and to share with the gringo missionary, just to make sure he has had the opportunity to try them. What are they, you ask? They're fried grasshoppers! As it turned out, Elder Eyre had sampled them before, so he actually enjoyed them enough to make a taco out of them and gobbled them up. In fact, everyone around the table seemed to enjoy this light repast (except me).

I accompanied Cecilia to a small choir practice today for an upcoming event. The director took the time to explain a lot about music to the ladies to help them understand music better. The house where we practiced, like many others, has turned a front room into a store and they sell items out of the window in the evening. I sat there realizing what an awesome experience I'm having here, living with a family as if I were a member. They take me everywhere, they explain everything to me, I ride the buses with them, we walk everywhere together (okay, well maybe this part is a bit tiring!), we buy things in the stores they really shop at - not the tourist joints, we watch the Olympics and soap operas and other programs on TV together. It's an experience I could never duplicate as a tourist or even if I moved here into my own place. Of course I won't remember everything I've done and felt here, but I am sure that I'm having 1000 percent more of a realistic experience than any other person visiting this town for the first time.

We took a rather lengthy bus ride (but still in the city) to the Oaxaca LDS Temple. It is situated in a busy but upper-class section of the city, across from the KFC and Burger King. It is located one block from a huge super-store, giant movie cineplex, and mall. Within the Temple complex there is a peaceful atmosphere that surrounds the Temple, the chapel, and the shop where one can buy Church items. The interior is designed exactly like the Medford Temple, so I felt very at home there.

The giant supermarket sold just about everything - except for the water-bottle-stand we were looking for. With them wanting over $950 for a washing machine, is it any wonder people here stick to using their cement wash sinks up on the roof?!

The people who work behind the deli counter wear masks all the time, even when talking to the customers - certainly different standards than we encountered while buying food on the street! Which reminds me, where is my next corn-on-the-cob fix coming from?!?

The movies are rated with a letter and possibly a number here. If I have this straight, "A" movies are for everybody, B movies are probably the equivalent of PG, B15 movies are probably only for people age 15 and older, and C movies are for adults only, 18 and up.

Have I mentioned about the traffic here? Well, "CRAZY" would pretty much sum it up! There are no lines on the streets indicating lanes, so it's a giant free-for-all. Plus drivers are continually running red lights and crowding out other drivers. And please don't even ask if pedestrians have any rights - I'd have to laugh you out of the room! (or off the computer screen!) Bus drivers are daring and boss of the road, brushing right by other vehicles, including other huge buses, with nary a concern. Tonight our bus had to get around a giant semi-truck that was double-parked on a narrow street. I thought we'd prudently wait out the trucker's stay or maybe honk a bit to hurry him up. But I was too cautious. Just as I was about to see my life flash before my eyes, our driver attempted to pass on the right with no more than 2 inches of clearance! He made it, and I'm glad he did!

Often the buses have a "chalán" helper that sits in a front seat and yells out the window announcing where we are headed. I guess it's to help illiterate potential passengers that can't read the sign on the front of the bus. Today I sat by one of these "chalanes" and he was 13 years old. After school he rides the bus for a few hours, earns a (very) few pesos, and calls it a day when he has to get home. A young man even boarded our bus this evening with a back pack worn in front of his chest, and he stood in the back and tried to sell CD's (pirated, I'm sure) by playing samples of the music aloud and shouting out his sales pitch. The bus business is big here.

I've been taking a ton of photos, and only including a few in this blog. So I often ask people if I can take their picture and most say "fine", except they say it in Spanish, of course. Kids started back to school yesterday, so I snapped a few shots of kids in their darling and social-class-distinction-erasing uniforms.

But last night Cecilia and I approached two policement and asked if we could please take their photo. One had a rifle strapped across his chest, and the other only had a pistol in his holster. I thought it would make a good shot (no pun intended!), but they declined. I politely thanked them and stepped away. A minute later I realized that I should have offered the customary "mordida", or bribe, which policemen seem to live off here in Mexico. I'm sure I could have gotten a great picture then! Well, I guess I'll just have to live in this culture a bit longer before I really start thinking like a native!

We asked them to please tell us what the national emergency number was that anyone could call for police, fire or ambulance assistance. Cecilia and Juan weren't sure so we thought it was a good thing to know. They said you can dial 066 or 060, there are two lines. But I also think they said it might be different in different states.

Which reminds me, we were driving by a Chevrolet dealership tonight and saw a brand new ambulance on the showroom floor. I guess I just thought that ambulance agencies ordered those directly from the manufacturer. But I guess, this way, anybody can have their own ambulance business if they just swing by the Chevy dealership and pick one up! I've also seen casket shops - just in case you need to remember to pick up a casket while you're out doing your weekly errands! I can see it now: To Do List: drop off clothes at the cleaners, wash the car, pick up a dozen eggs, get that cute little casket in the display window, etc.

In case you have been wondering about my mosquito attack and my recovery, it has a long way to go to get better! I got a few more bites today, but the old ones still wake me up at night and I have to apply more medicine. This photo was taken several days after the last one, but they just keep getting worse. Maybe, once back home, I'll find a stronger medicine.

I'm sad that my time in Oaxaca is coming to an end - my flight leaves here tomorrow. I wish I could stay and stay and stay. The Eslama Family has been totally awesome to me, in every way. At least when I get home and have to return to work, I know I get to take advantage of the air-conditioned classroom with lovely carpet and appointments, including fresh running purified water in all the fountains and faucets (everyone here buys bottled water and it's not just a luxury). I'm glad my job doesn't involve labor like the hard-working gentlemen in this photo!

Monday, August 18, 2008

I've eaten some interesting foods while here, ones that I don't normally tend to consume at home. Actually, to admit it, they're mostly foods I've never tried. So for breakfast this morning we had lentils, made with pork, beef, chorizo, tomatoes, garlic, onion, and banana. At lunch we had nopales (cactus) with chayote (a green vegetable), and a side of chepiche and berro - some green leafy herbs that I've never seen, and guava water. We eat tortillas or tlayudas at every meal and use them practically like spoons to scoop up our food. This is a tlayuda stuffed with black beans and squash blossom and "epazote" leaves, which I have absolutely NO IDEA what they are!

We bought 8 eggs today (for $1 US) and tossed them in the nopales dish. Eggs are often bought in quantities of 4 or 8 or even 1 and don't have the benefit of riding in a carton on the way home - they are just sold loose, and carried carefully in the shopping bag. I love buying fresh prepared mango and watermelon and other fruits on the street from portable vending booths. They offer to put chili powder on them (which I always decline) and/or lime juice (which I readily accept) - the cost is usually 80 cents or a dollar.

One can easily spot violations of safety codes here - at least according to US standards, like the exposed gas water heaters and propane tanks on our rooftop, the horrendous potholes at the bus station, the teensy-tiny sidewalks next to extremely busy streets, and the lack of concern for access to unsafe conditions. This street was torn up in at least 3 big sections, just far enough apart to block off traffic for at least 3 blocks. But there was no restriction for this little boy to find a spot to play amidst the broken-up stone.

After a lengthy walk (of course!) we boarded a bus to the central bus station to board another bus to go out to Mitla. It's a town about an hour from here, and it was the Sacred City of the Mixteca and Zapoteca tribes about 1500 years ago. The ruins include underground chambers and palaces, and lots of geometric decorations in the rock work. The designs are so notable that they are always associated with Mitla and appear in almost all the handiwork from that region. We spent a few minutes in the shops and watched a gentleman working a loom to make the cloth that is later made into clothing and household fabric pieces.

Our bus got a flat tire while traveling between Mitla and Tlacolula but, instead of stopping to change it then or even at the next station, we just kept driving. Finally we drove by a tire shop out in the middle of nowhere on the highway and we stopped. We all just stayed on the bus while it got changed - kind of a fun experience!


Legend has it that if a person wraps his arms around this column, depending on how far he can reach around, it tells how long he will live. It was such a popular legend that the curators of this site finally blocked off access to the column. Or maybe it was blocked off because all the short-armed people started vandalizing in there because they were upset to learn that only long-armed people lead long lives!

I paid 2 pesos today to use a public restroom at the ruins in Mitla. This afforded me exactly 10 squares of toilet paper that the attendant handed me, no paper towel, and no toilet seat. But at least there was running water today and even a real sink with a partial bar of soap.

There are fields and fields of maguey plants around here. Evidently the state of Oaxaca is famous for its mezcal and, more refined, tequila.

At different bus stops on the way to Mitla, various venders boarded the bus to sell their wares. Ladies came on to sell tamales and turnovers, and a man got on to sell pirated DVD's for only $1 (US) - of course I had to check it out, so I bought "Ironman".

We spent some time at a couple's home this evening (waiting out the thunder shower and the resulting lack of electricity) to walk home with about 50 pounds of rice for Cecilia's kitchen and storage program. The husband, Francisco Magro Villaraus, was celebrating his 87th birthday today and we had the pleasure of listening to him recite some awesome and lengthy poems that he has memorized over the years. He has even written some that he shared with us, and we were all quite impressed. It reminded me of my father, Rod McRae now age 84, who impresses all of us each time he recites the famous poems of Robert W. Service, like "The Cremation of Sam McGee" or "Bessie's Boil".

Remember that I mentioned the house windows have no screens? Just above the landing of our front door there is a bee hive that looks pretty dangerous. If I step out and look up about 10 feet, there are about 500 bees buzzing to their hearts' content. The only 3 windows for this apartment are directly below the hive, and I'm just hoping that they never find their way in here.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Going to church with Cecilia today involved a walk (of course) to the bus stop, then a bus ride, then a ride in a motorcycle taxi in which 3 of us ladies fit in the back seat. The chapel is surrounded by a tall pointy metal fence to keep out the unsavory members of the community, I guess, when they shouldn't be around. It must be working because the city is covered with graffiti everywhere, but the chapel is beautiful and clean. However, we did have a situation with a few ruffians today who were harassing a young man and his sister as they tried to come to church. Some druggies/drunks started throwing rocks at them and the church, so several of the men left the chapel to see what was the problem. The police were called and the miscreants finally left. Well, that's the most excitement I've had at church lately!

I've found it interesting that public restrooms here are substandard to our usual facilities back home. The other day I entered a bathroom at a nice hotel and found no toilet seat and no toilet paper. At the bus stop there was no toilet seat and no running water. In fact, I haven't seen a toilet seat in any of the toilets outside of private homes. Even today at church, with automatic flushes and electronic-sensor paper towels in the ladies' room, there were still no toilet seats! What's up with that!?!

Cecilia's married son, Carlos, and his wife, Karina, came over for lunch after church today. They're both studying chemical engineering. Edith, the 24-year-old daughter, just graduated from the university as an Information Specialist (something to do with computers) and her beginning pay is about $220 (US) every two weeks. It's easy to see why Mexican Nationals want to take their chances crossing the border in order to earn a higher living wage.

This family is so wonderful! They are fabulous hosts to me and have shared everything they have with me. They may not spend money on things they consider unnecessary luxuries (like clothes pins or apartment square footage or even a rack for their 5-gallon water bottle), but they have gone out of their way every minute to make sure I'm comfortable, eating well, entertained, and enjoying my stay here.

We had a nice electric storm tonight but no rain (of course not - we hadn't hung out any clothes to dry today)!

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Cecilia, Juan and I decided to join some folks from Church today for a little outing to San Felipe. We weren't really sure exactly what that meant but they told us to bring sandwiches or something for lunch. So we walked and took a bus to Parque Miguel to meet up with the other ladies at 9 A.M. We arrived right at nine and, of course, were the only ones there for quite a while (you know what they say about being on Mexican time). Eventually the others arrived and we headed out to catch the bus - which felt like it was a mile's walk away. The local buses charge 45 cents per trip so it's not bad, and we must have ridden it for about 25 minutes. Evidently, San Felipe is a section of Oaxaca City that is residential and the upper class lives there.

Once again we found ourselves walking, this time in the countryside and crossing a small river on slippery rocks. We found a place to sit down and eat our picnic lunches. Everyone set out what they had brought to share with everyone else. I was surprised to see no ready-made sandwiches but, instead, rice, beans, tortillas, tlayudas (which are HUGE tortillas they make and eat around here), cooked squash, tostada shells, and various other typical Mexican dishes. Of course, this was the big meal of the day, so everyone seemed satisfied. The kids had fun playing in the shallow river, and I had fun visiting with everyone. I guess I was somewhat of a celebrity and everyone wanted my address and a picture taken with me! You might notice that I tower over the other ladies, with their short indigenous stature and I'm only 5'5"!

Did I mention that there were other guests at the picnic? By that I mean about 1 bazillion mosquitoes! Of course, they attacked my sweet gringo blood and I've been putting on 5 different types of treatment to try to get some relief from the itch, pain, infection and swelling - alcohol, vitacilina, DspuesD, caladryl lotion, and even Vaporub. The boiling hot water bath of my legs has felt the best so far. Yes, that's an actual photo of the back of my right leg.

Juan, who is interested in studying medicine, was kind enough to share with me some of the varied and potentially deadly diseases here in Mexico that are carried by mosquitoes, including hemorrhagic dengue fever. Um, thank you, Juan!

We went downtown to change money (that was just my excuse because, as you probably know, I was really looking for more corn-on-the-cob!) and I also decided to buy my plane ticket to fly from Oaxaca to Mexico City next Wednesday. I couldn't believe that the price fluctuated between $79 and $219 (U.S.) for flights on the same day. Because I'm flying standby, it's actually cheaper for me to fly round-trip LA-Mexico City (3 hours 40 minutes) than it is to fly Mexico City-Oaxaca (1 hour).

The Eslama family that I'm visiting lives across the street from the cemetery. The burial grounds here are different from in the U.S., as you can probably tell from the picture. They are overcrowded and not as well cared for. I saw grave markers with only initials or a first name, not even a date, on just a piece of metal, not even a stone. Others are elaborate with statues, carvings, and decorative adornments. On the Days of the Dead, each Nov. 1 & 2, families go to the cemeteries to celebrate the lives of those who have passed one. They build temporary altars that they cover with foods and items (including cigarettes and liquor) that were favorites of the now-deceased. They spend all day there, having dinner, tidying up the gravesite, playing music, and enjoying the presence of the spirits of the departed who come back to visit for those 2 days each year (children on Nov. 1 - which is All Saints Day), and all the rest on Nov. 2 - which is Day of the Dead,

I had a truly Mexican experience this evening when I climbed up to the rooftop to wash clothes in the cement ridged wash sink. There's quite a method to it, I suppose, but I just did the basics. I stuffed the drains with pieces of plastic bag, then filled one side with cold clear water, and the other with soapy cold water. I started throwing in my clothes on the soapy side and rubbing them on the cement ridges. Then I brought plastic bowls full of water from the clear side and rinsed the clothes, after unplugging the sink. (Don't ask me where it drains - I think down on the neighbor's yard below!) Then I tried my best to wring out the clothes by hand (but of course my arms were already exhausted by this time) and hang them on the cords crossing over my head. Of course, there were no clothes pins so I had to try to separate the cords to stick a corner of each clothing item in them, which was nearly impossible to do. Oh, well, the clothes are up there drying right now and there was a light breeze which should help. Oh, guess what? As I write we're having our first big rain and I can almost hear the raindrops falling directly on all my laundry. I just hope I have SOMETHING to wear to church tomorrow!

Friday, August 15, 2008

By 9 A.M. we were breakfasting on Mexican rice, green beans, refried black beans, and crispy tortillas, getting ready for a day at the market. But first we decided to take in Monte Albán, one of the most famous ruins in all of Mesoamerica.

By taxi we arrived at the hill that had once been populated by Zapotec Indians around 100 B.C. It had been a fabulous city of pyramid-like temples and palaces, residences and ceremonial structures. Even the ball court was here where the winning team earned the privilege of being sacrificed to the gods - kind of makes you want to think about losing on purpose, doesn't it?!? The overgrown vegetation had covered the buildings for centuries until discovered by Alfonso Caso and excavated and mapped by more than 300 people. In fact, even today, we met 2 men who were making detailed drawings of every rock in a stairway because there will be some more restoration work done on an adjoining section soon. There were tunnels under most of the large structures and hidden compartments. It was a beautiful sight with commanding views of the central valley nearby. Oaxaca state has been described to me like a wrinkled piece of paper laid out on a table - it is mostly hills everywhere except here in the central valley region where Oaxaca City is the capital.

After a fun morning there, we took another bus to the Friday market. [Did I mention that Cecilia and her children have managed to work and attend school for years (even university) without ever owning a car here?] It's a lifestyle that I could adopt, especially when gas is over $4 a gallon back home!

What a feast of sights, sounds, and smells! I must have taken 50 photos of people and food, especially the unrefrigerated meat and fish, and the fruits and vegetables I have never seen. There were "nanches" - little round yellow fruits, yucca - both raw and cooked, little black avocados in which the peel is eaten, long seed pods where the flat green beans are eaten raw, chicken parts galore with the feet cut off and set to the side, just in case you wanted to buy lots of them without wasting your money on the other non-essential chicken parts like thighs and breasts. I enjoyed seeing the myriad little indigenous women from the mountain towns with their heads covered with baskets or traditional hats and scarves. We bought some "agua fresca" which is a cold fruit-flavored water served from a big jug into a plastic bag and a straw inserted before the bag is tied up to not spill - it was delicious, plentiful, and refreshing! There were about a million vendors with everything from pirated DVD's and CD's to clothing to school supplies to every food imaginable! I found it fascinating and could have spent a whole day there, but our shopping bags were getting too heavy to carry!