My zine for sale!

Order a print copy of "Have You Seen the Dog Lately?" with a Oaxaca pop culture and Day of the Dead theme here:

Eco Fair Escapees

We went to an eco-fair at a farm near Huayapan. It was fantastic. Max rode a bike that powered a blender, and another one that powered a corn-grinder. We drank Tejate and talked to a company that told us they could install a solar water heater and tank on our roof for $700. We saw a beautiful house made of compressed dirt. Genevieve ran through greenhouses with tomatoes creeping up vines and Max made a tiny box for compost. Then, the little goats saw their chance and broke free of their pens, munching on everything in sight. Go goats!

La Raza

We bought this painting from our friend Humberto Batista. It's called "La Raza".

The Little Car that Could?

Yes, there it is in the corner, our little VW Bug, or "El Vocho", the character Steve immortalized in his El Vocho blog.

Our vochito broke yesterday and is now down the block in the mechanic's shop. We are wishing it well (until we can sell it).

Courtyards

I love the Mexican architectural tradition of the inner courtyard, the covered patio, or the giant porch. It's part of this blurring of indoors and outdoors that makes living here so pleasant, because you can sit or eat outside, everywhere, throughout the seasons. Some courtyards are elegant and rambling, lined in stone or carisso, or with adobe walls and exposed bricks. Other courtyards are just an opening cut into the middle of a concrete block. Both are a building's secret buried treasure, where light pour in, and a fresh breeze can enter. If you have a little awning, you can watch the rain from underneath. Our courtyard is a little stark, with tiles and a brick wall, but we have three sliding glass doors to access it, and can basically open up the walls of our living room, dining room and entry way to blend them in with the courtyard. We've filled it with plants and bouncy balls.

What is a Play Groud?

Many of the businesses in Mexico just paint their store's name on the side of the building. Some of them use beautiful artwork, too, such as this little cartoon guy advertising a video game parlor.

More neighborhood art

Loving all the hating of Chedraui.

More Dissing of Chedraui

Here's some more Chedraui protest art. I can't get enough of this stuff.

Boo, Chedraui

Chedraui is evil!
Ah, Chedraui, that dirty, dirty supermarket chain, is up to some nefarious tactics. They wanted to open a store in our neighborhood, but the lot was filled with gorgeous, historic trees over a century old. So they set workers with chainsaws at the trees at 4am.

Neighbors rushed out of their houses and tried to stop the massacre, to no avail. They called the police, to less avail. And then, these street art signs started popping up around the lot, slamming Chedraui and Oaxaca in general for killing off beautiful natural resources.

For once, this story of Mexican corruption has a happy ending. There will be no Chedraui. The neighbors succeeded in blocking them. But the reason why they succeeded? My neighborhood just happens to be full of lawyers, politicians, and ex-politicans who had the pull to pull the plug.

These days I'm just happy to walk by the lot and peek in and see trees still standing amid fabulous undergrowth. Onto the next battle!

Street art glory

Oaxaca is full of graffiti, some of it really boring. Tons of tags and anarchy symbols. But how lucky are we to have this beautiful painting of a lucha libre wrestler playing guitar/mandolin with a mariachi at his side, just one block from our house? So lucky.

I'm Back

I'm so happy. We finally got a new digital camera, so I can start posting images here again. I find that this blog is the best way to remind me to see Oaxaca in a fresh way, to consider the everyday something beautiful again.

So I'll begin with this charming smiling ant, some sort of mascot for Itanoni, a restaurant that I love so much it haunts my dreams. Steve and I have lunch there every Friday while the kids are still at school, and that's part of the fun of it for me.

Itanoni is on Belisario Dominguez street in the Reforma district. They serve Zapotec cuisine. They are politicized and determined to maintain the many diverse species of corn that are indigenous to the Oaxaca region. So the tacos tend to be very textured tortillas, kind of nuggety, and the Tetelas are just crazy incredible. They fold some thick corn masa into a triangle and stuff it with wild mushrooms and Chiapas cream which, since I'm supposed to be a vegan, is quite the decadent thing. It's fun to get an agua de Jamaica to go with it--my favorite hibiscus flower tea--and they serve it in a charming little glass bottle.

I first heard of Itanoni in "1491", a book Steve was reading. They showed a picture, but gave no name or address. It was a terrible tease. But I posted to some Oaxaca forums and *blink* someone kindly sent me their name. Itanoni.

How Tejate captured me

It's gray. Or brown. Or something in between, liquid, with random bits of fluff floating in it, looking like it drained off of something. It's Tejate and, when I first saw it, I couldn't fathom how anyone would be brave enough to try it. It seemed to be what someone might discard on their way to concocting something better. The women mixing it stand over a giant bowl, mushing it around, dipping a painted gourd into its briny depths, excavating sludge to dish over more sludge.

But then Mats!? and Peri and Carrie visited, and had the intent to try Oaxaca's indigenous beverage. I didn't know its story, how it is unique to the region, due to one of the ingredients being the seeds of mamey (not to mention the skins), a local fruit. Other necessary ingredients are toasted corn, cacao, cinnamon, all ground with a metate. I didn't know that it was the drink of Zapotec kings, considered fortifying, medicinal, and even an aphrodisiac.

Peri was the one who dove in, at Abastos market, and got a gourd filled with the stuff. We all sampled it and I realized it didn't taste like old dishwater. I sort of liked it.

At another market a week later, I tried it again. There was a nutty, chocolate taste, but it was the sweet, creamy mamey fluff at the top that was enchanting. That was it. It crept into my bloodstream or overtook my mind, and I started to plan for it, memorizing market days and stalls where my favorite Tejate was brewed.

Tomorrow. Pochote. The woman at the top of the stairs. "Tejate en jircara" for 10 pesos. I'll be there, with a gourd in my hand, searching for that last foamy sip.

Yeni in a Calenda

I have mentioned before that I am wild for Oaxaca's calendas. These are crowded processionals/parties in the streets that might include cellophane lanterns held aloft on sticks and illuminated with candles, people in traditional ceremonial dress, monumental altars of flowers, people tossing candy from painted gourd bowls, a brass band, firecrackers, a bull fight with a pretend bull, and dancing. Somewhere I read that calendas historically were used to entice people to attend Catholic mass, with the processional leading to the church. My baby girl Genevieve was invited to be in the city-wide preschooler Calenda, thankfully not for religious purposes, but to announce the children's dance festival. A dear friend lent me the appropriate garb for Jenny. It was a beautifully embroidered blouse and bright orange skirt.

This was one jam-packed Calenda. In the picture below, you can see a lantern with colored cellophane. Max got to hold the gourd and passed the time tossing candy to onlookers. He took his job very seriously.

Calendas often have giant papier-mache puppets. The inside is hollow and people place it over their heads and shoulders and carry the whole thing for the event. I believe these are the same figures that Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo collected that are on display at the Museo Frida Kahlo in Mexico City. They call them Judas figures, and fill them with firecrackers, setting them off around Semana Santa.

It was a beautiful event and such an honor to be included in one of Oaxaca's most vivid folk traditions.

Holy Jesus, Batman

Some wild scenes go down around here at Semana Santa. First of all, "Holy Week" meant that the kids got 18 days off of school. But the party didn't stop there. On the Friday before Easter (help me here, God-believers, perhaps it's called Good Friday?), everyone in town turns out for a silent processional. There is the usual festive stuff--balloons, food, children running around--but the mood is ominous. I guess everyone is feeling sorry for the guy that's gonna go up on these crosses:

The men carrying the "parade floats" (for lack of a better word) of Jesus and various saints were dressed in little hoods with peaked caps. I couldn't stop thinking of the KKK.

And here's the man of the hour, looking just bloody and damaged the way he is often depicted in Mexico. Man, is it a relief just to watch these scenes and have no emotional connection, because this kind of stuff could make a person feel guilty!

Another Arrazola Sight

The Taller de Sergio Santiago kicks the mighty A! This massive peacock was a shocker. The pre-bargaining price was 3,500 pesos, a little less than $350. I didn't buy it, but it's burned in my brain. Someday I'll be back to Calle Zapata, #2.

A Vivid Day

An incredible restaurant here is La Biznaga, which I believe 99 percent of our houseguests have visited. They do a gourmet take on Oaxaca classics. Their Zapotec triology platter and Aztec Soup are the two things I keep ordering. And the margaritas.

While you eat, you are seated in a courtyard which also holds an art gallery and a couple of shops. Of course, if you are Genevieve and Max, you do not sit. The first one runs around like the anarcho-punk she is and the second one starts snapping photos of what interests him, such as this handsomely glittered skeleton in the doorway.

Max couldn't resist taking a shot of this movie poster, listing all the upcoming children's movies he'll see at El Pochote. Tomorrow is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, so I am excited as well.

Steve got to hold the camera for part of the day, and took a great shot of this three-headed dragon. It's from the workshop of Sergio Santiago, who is related to the great Pepe Santiago, a carver whose workshop I visited 11 years ago. Sergio is on Zapata Street, #2, in Arrazola, if you should find your way out there.

Fruit Cart Fanatic

We were walking around the zocalo when I saw, like a vision, this gorgeous apparition. What do I love most about this fruit cart? I'm undecided. It could be the charming cartoon fruits, with their labels, cuter than any font. Or it could be the vivid blue that made the cart seem almost fashionable. But really it must be the fruit itself, radiating sweetness.

When I asked the vendor if I could photograph her cart, she gave me the weariest of nods. She was not quite annoyed with me, but not pleased with me, either. Perhaps I was one in a long line of gringos wanting to snap the camera at her wares.

It was hard to understand how she could work behind this work of art and not be constantly joyful. Consider, however, the reverse situation. She comes to the United States, sees a giant display of fruit in Safeway, and asks the clerk if she can take a picture. Then she goes home and blogs about it. Ah, I'm pathetic!

The Squid of a Bus Driver

This poster, plastered around town and credited to the local Communist party, protests the recent bus fare increase from 3 pesos to 4.50 pesos, a huge difference for many of the struggling citizens of Oaxaca. The text of the poster, "El Pulpo Camionero Se Roba Mi Dinero" translates to "The (Sucking) Squid of a Bus Driver Robbed Me of My Money".

Boy Toys

I am quite in love with Max's toys. In his Big Bang! magazine, he gets a different plastic alebrije (literally "alien breather", a sort of fantasy creature) each week. They come apart and the parts are interchangeable. Last week, he got the armadillo, the same creature he got three weeks ago. It was deeply upsetting to both of us, because we are angling to have the whole collection, and this was clearly an error. I tried to talk with the guy at the newsstand about it, but it got lost in translation. So we wait, anxiously, to see if we still can manage to get each one.

Viva Che! Vive Calle las Casas!

You see Che all over the place in Oaxaca, but I was particularly charmed to find him on a pink hightop in a shoe shop on Calle de las Casas.

Calle de las Casas has to be one of my favorite streets in Oaxaca. It runs on the south side of the zocalo. Open stalls on the sidewalks offer lucha libre masks and punky messenger bags, bootleg DVDs and traditional Oaxacan sweets, stuffed with a custardy cream. I love the displays of bootleg cartoony socks, starring everyone from Woody Woodpecker to the Pink Panther. The chocolate factories--Mayordomo, Soledad, Guelaguetza, and many smaller indy spots--are on the nearby cross-streets (Calle Mina has quite a few). People swear by Ton-ita (Stall #80 in the Benito Juarez market) for chocolate made the old-school way, with a metate.

Mostly I love Calle las Casas for the urban drama. It make Oaxaca feel like a city instead of a town. Yes, there's the diesel fumes and the crowds, but there are also the gems and discoveries that make city life so beautiful.