The Bumpy Road to Morales

One of my new favorite villages is Ocotlan, about 33 kilometers south of Oaxaca City on Highway 175. We went with our delightful guests, Mats!? and Peri. The drive out there was horrendous, with us getting caught in a traffic jam. Perhaps there was a politically-motivated blockade going on, but we never saw it. We dodged around until we were all sick from curves and topes and fumes, but finally we made it to the country highway to Ocotlan. As Mexicans say, "vale la pena", or "it's worth the suffering".

Here you can find the Rodolfo Morales museum, housed in an old convent or prison, depending upon the era. Morales is a visionary and wild painter. The upper level of the building is filled with columns on which his surreal paintings are wrapped. He has clouds that turn into women, bright colored balloons with faces, people that disappear into the landscape, all done in roses, blues, purples, and browns.

The Ocotlan market, on the zocalo, is brightly lit, unlike a lot of Oaxaca city's markets. We found the comedor section, with many options for eating. Call us suckers for a gimmick, but we had to head straight for "The Cocina de Frida" or Frida's Kitchen. The proprietress looked just like Frida, and dressed the part. This is definitely the basis for a return trip.

Mexico City Blues

We were on the Frida path last week in Mexico City. Though I remembered her house and studio as indigo, it's more of a cornflower blue. Really beautiful. Our cabbie showed us a nearby cafe, El Jarocho, that was surrounded by benches and fauna and packed with people drinking what Steve said was the best coffee he's had in Mexico. I had hot chocolate and enjoyed taking in the sight of crowds arguing and drinking and dreaming.