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.

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.

The Water Boils

A misnomer for sure, but Hierve El Agua, or "The Water Boils", is still a fantastic place to swim. Genevieve refused to enter the cold, mineral-laden water, but Max and I had a blast.

One Fish, Two Fish

Outside of the little indy cinema at the Pochote organic market, there's a murky fishpond with some gigantic fish. These hold a great fascination for Genevieve, who would rather attempt to dive in and swim with them than watch the free screening of "The Wizard of Oz" in Spanish. Max also seemed absorbed by them, if not a little scared.

Get on the Love Rollercoaster

This is a caterpillar rollercoaster, I believe. Max rode it twice at a fair in the park. We were the first people to the fair, which really gets going at nightfall, but who can wait until nightfall? So we hopped the Plaza del Valle bus, got into town, and waited while the carnies carefully unwrapped the cars, buffed them, and set to hammering and tightening bolts along the track. When they finally finished, Max jumped in. He was the only one on the ride, but he didn't care. Around him, Oaxaca was slowly waking up and thinking about heading toward the twinkling lights and the popping firecrackers.

Night of the Radishes

Last night was the annual Night of the Radishes festival in Oaxaca, known as Noche de los Rabanos. The entire zocalo was framed by displays of giant carved radishes. Some of the entries depicted scenes from daily life, like tortilla-making and farming. Others showed celebrations like Calendas, Dia de los Muertos, Guelaguetza, Posadas, and fairs. I was intrigued by this narrative scene, "Death Driving His Cart":

One of my favorites had radish figures stacked in a style reminiscent of Peruvian folk art:

The zocalo was packed with people viewing the radishes, watching a clown, listening to bands, drinking coffee and beer at the sidewalk cafes, and shopping. I ventured down Calle de las Casas and scored cartoon character socks, cascarones, singing Christmas lights, a handmade wooden doggy car, silly string, two chocolate clown lollipops, a cartoon magazine with robot enclosure, sparkly hair clips, and bubbles with a wrestler attached. My Christmas shopping is done!

Lo Maximo

Although no one is named Max in Oaxaca, it is a commonly used word within expressions. There's "Lo Maximo" for the most or the best. For some reason, Max's Oaxaca friends love to shout out his name over and over again, so that we sometimes leave Colegio Teizcali amid a chorus of "Max! Max! Max!"

Don't Step on the Grass

Here is a photo of a sign in Parque Llano, which is one of my favorite spots in Oaxaca. I like the image of the disembodied foot approaching the innocent clover-like plant. My son, Max, would like to point out that, in order to take this picture, I had to step--just the littlest bit--on the grass. I would like to provide a counterpoint, however, that I was one of un monton de people stepping on the grass and, in fact, there was a whole soccer game going on, couples making out, and some tai chi practice, all on the grass. Still and all, I agree with Max that it is best to keep our disembodied feet away from the grass.

Flying over the Zocalo

The giant balloons get me, like some Fellini movie, just lyrical the way they arc through the air. It's a melancholy thing to watch it wind indecisively through the air. You smack the end and it soars. On 20 de Noviembre, the zocalo was filled with children chasing after them, falling on top of them, popping them, and then grabbing someone else's.

Max chose a bootleg Spiderman print, blurry with the thousands of times it had been reproduced. When that deflated, someone gave him a Sponge Bob one, where Sponge Bob was elongated and blue. Genevieve dove after a boy's Viva Mexico balloon, only to drag it over to him and surrender it. Five minutes later, he was by her side, offering it back to her.

Lucha Libre

We're super into Lucha Libre iconography around here. For some reason, Mexican wrestling has always intrigued me. I love the ornate masks and the little punky fabric patches of wrestlers you can buy on Calle las Casas. And I love Maxito's shirt here, featuring El Santo, the king of La Lucha.

Sad, astonished pumpkinhead

This Halloween pumpkin has two sides, one happy and the other kind of surprised or melancholy. When Max went trick-or-treating with it, he and his friends chanted "Queremos muertos, queremos muertos" to get their candy.

Vochito Banditos

I have a long love affair with VW Bugs, known as "vochos" around here. It looks like Genevieve shares my adoration. When the ride ended, she gripped onto the steering wheel, refused to let go, and shrieked bloody murder. I had to get back up to wrench her from the ride.