Getting here was a bit of a challenge. The first leg of the flight was no sweat, although we were getting tired and cranky by the time we got to Dallas. Chase tried to sleep in front of the gate we'd be departing at 5 hours later, while Nick and I walked all around the concourse and looked at stuff. The Dallas airport has quite a few public sculptures that are interactive. There was one that was a labyrinth, that was actually a musical instrument. There was a riddle in the middle of the maze, and if you followed it correctly, small tiles in the floor would light up and vibrate with a tone, that would make a song if done correctly. It was pretty neat!
From Dallas, we headed to Mexico City. The flight was normal as flights go, although I have to say that flying into Mexico City was a bit daunting. I don't think I was prepared for the size of the city itself, the massive sprawl of densely packed humanity stretching as far as we could see through the pollution in any direction. The airport was confusing, and we almost didn't find where our connecting flight was going to depart from. After we went through immigration, we followed the signs for "connecting flights" and ended up at a dead end. I also have to admit, my Spanish is not as good as I thought it was. In class, or with my friends, I found it easy to converse. When talking to a native speaker going at a normal pace, I get lost and weird, and very very shy. I managed to communicate with the woman standing at the gate with the guard, and she pointed me back the way we had come. We wandered, lost, not even knowing what time it was because there were no visible clocks. Everyone seemed to be moving very fast, knowing where they were going, and we felt terribly out of place. I finally asked someone in Spanish if he knew where we would go to catch a connecting flight for Mexicana, and he pointed me to a small, unmarked hallway with a guard posted at a tall desk. We ended up going all the way back up and to the other side of the airport, where our flight was still not even listed on the board yet. It took fumbling with my Spanish through several people until we finally got someone to call the airline and figure out where we were supposed to be. Apparently, Mexico City Airport doesn't post the gates until the control tower tells the plane where to go. We made it in time to board, and headed here.
The Oaxaca airport is tiny, and as the plane was coming in for a landing, it looked like we were going to crash in some farmer's field. We made our way through customs, and found the collectivo, a van that will take you from the airport to where you need to go from the airport. Several people pack the van and the driver, who doesn't speak English, drives around trying to figure out where to drop us all off.
Our driver slammed through the outskirts of Oaxaca at breakneck speed, tailgating motorcycles (who are fearless to start with, 2 people crammed on beat up bikes with no helmets, going fast and swerving) and cutting off taxis in traffic, running red lights. We slammed through crowded streets, narrowly missing pedestrians and double parked cars and street vendors, a cacaphony of horns and yelling. With only a few hours of sleep since Friday, I couldn't take it all in. We passed a man driving a cart pulled by a donkey, and another donkey grazing in a ditch. We passed several dozen stray dogs, meandering in the streets. The outskirts of the city are poverty stricken, grafitti on crumbling buildings, bricks falling from facades into the street. No doubt about it, this is a town where things are real, not a tourist haven of "us" and "them".
The colectivo finally got to our street and couldn't go up the hill. The driver backed up and tried again, only to die at the bottom. "No vamos, es fin." He said. "Pardone me, senor, pero donde esta Casa Mayacha?" The driver pointed up the hill where the pavement stopped and houses hung over the edge of the gorge. "Vas arreba, y despues, uno calla a la derecha, esta ayi." He turned around, unloaded our bags, and took off. Nick, Chase and I looked at each other, at the bottom of this huge unpaved hill, stray dogs running around our stuff, and we started hiking upwards. Motorcycles swerved to avoid us, and a large group of older women all wrapped in the large shawls that seem to be the standard of dress here passed to our left. "Buenos tardes, senoras" we repeated to them as they passed. Nick was straining, pulling both my bag and his, while I struggled to walk up the slippery dirt hill in my shoes that are ill equipped for climbing. Chase just kept shaking his head and muttering. We got to a small area that was more flat than the surrounding dirt, and we left Nick there with the bags while we continued to hike up, to see if we were even going to be able to find the house. About a half mile later, we came around a corner to see the pavement start again, and the address directly to our right. I rang the bell while Chase turned around to get Nick, and our host came running out to meet us. We told him what had happened, and he accompanied us back down to get the bags, swearing the whole time about the incompetence of the cab drivers here.
We made it, sweat and dust and travel stained, to this lovely house overlooking a gorge on the north side of the city. Our hosts offered us wine and local cheeses and homemade tortilla chips, and after we chatted and ate a bit, we retired to our level of the house for naps and showers.
The shower is going to take some getting used to, as is the bathroom. The shower is traditional rural Southern Mexico, in that it is separated from the toilet by a curtain, and the floor of the bathroom has a drain in it, and that's the shower floor. Also, here, we can't flush toilet paper. It goes in the wastebasket. Yeah. I know. There also is no privacy in our unit from each other, so I'm pretty sure we're all gonna have to get a bit less modest. I warned them that even though I will try my best to shield them, they most likely will be seeing me in my underwear before the end of the week, due to lack of anywhere with a door or curtain I can change behind where my clothes will not get wet.
We napped for a bit, woke up and showered, and we headed upstairs to meet up with our hosts again, who were taking us downtown when we were ready. They offered us fresh fruit, picked in the back of the house and bought from a local market, some locally made chocolate (omg so good) and some booze. They have visitors, a young friend of the family from Calgary, her gentleman suitor who is working on his thesis for his PhD in Anthropology (she also has her PhD in Anthro) and the owner's sister and her husband, from Chicago. We went upstairs to find them deeply in their cups, and in the style of the local people, they wouldn't take no for an answer. We had several drinks with them, and then piled into the back of the pickup truck for the drive to the Zocalo. They pulled up at the outside edge, made sure we could repeat instructions for finding a cab, and dropped us off to fend for ourselves. There we go, sink or swim.
The Zocalo was lit up tonight, and full of the beginning of some festival that seems to focus around children. There were mimes and circus performers (at 9 at night, no less) and everywhere we looked, a huge crush of people with their little kids were waving these huge 4 foot tall balloons and laughing. It looked like a huge mass of joyful human chaos. My camera takes shitty pics at night, so I didn't get many, but I did get these:
That is "El Catedral", the church on the edge of the Zocalo. They were having Mass inside it tonight, we went in and listened to them sing in Latin. It was beautiful. It seemed disrespectful to take pictures of people at Church, though, so I left those till later.
we also saw this by a restaurant on the edge of the Zocalo
This is one of many statues we'll see here as part of the festivities for Dia de los Muertos, they're just getting ready.
We ate at a little restaurant called "La Casa de los Abuelos" (House of the Grandmothers) that had amazing Mole Negro. (I cleaned my plate.) Also, I practiced my spanish with our patient waiter, who told me when I was making mistakes.
We spent the next hour or so wandering the streets around the Zocalo, sidestepping crazy scooters and making note of where things are that we want to see when everything opens, tomorrow. We found a little grocery and bought some things to add to the plentiful breakfast supplies, and came home to sit around our table at our semi outside kitchen and drink Mezcal mixed with Papaya juice.
This morning showed me up at 7 local time with all the stray dogs in our area. They're barking at the roosters, who are crowing at top volume. In the street above our house, there is an old truck driving around, blaring some Mariachi music while a person with a bullhorn plays a tape over and over that says "Buena Manana Oaxaca!" and he tries to sell fruit he picked from the gorge. The area behind us has prickly pears, papayas, and some small round yellow fruits that I can't remember the name of, but that taste like a mango and a grape mixed. I'm going to wake the boys here, in a minute, and we're going to make ourselves breakfast in our little kitchen, eggs and fresh tortillas and fresh fruit, and some Muertos bread, which is a sweet egg bread they make only for the festival, here. It's warm and sunny, and I'm staring out over the gorge through our large windows. Our kitchen is in an enclosed patio that is mostly open, but it as a roof. This is interesting in that it allows fun things like this to show up on the walls.
There is nothing there for scale, but that guy is 6 inches at least, and that's without his legspan. Nick tried to brush him out the archway with a broom last night, but he literally posed and then tried to attack the broom, running at such a speed that Chase and Nick and I stepped backwards and collectively uttered an "Oh, Shit." He disappeared, and we kept an eye out for him, but mostly we just stared at that corner in terror.
Alright, time to wake the boys, make some breakfast, and then head for the Zocalo, to see what we can see today, with everything open!
hasta luego, amigos!
No comments:
Post a Comment