In Southern Mexico

OAXACA – PART 1

 

People generally say just Oaxaca when really what is meant is Oaxaca, Oaxaca – the capital of the state of the same name.  (You can go to Wikipedia or numerous other sites to find basic information.)  We stayed a full week and visited most of the requisite tourist sights, several of which are classified as heritage sites by Mexico and the U.N.  Due to its historical importance, especially as the birthplace of Benito Juarez and the home of many of Mexico's indigenous peoples, Oaxaca is a tourist locale for Mexicans as much as it is for non-Mexicans.  But we were your basic tourists and took many pictures, a whole lot easier to do with a digital camera.  (However, we generally avoid taking too many pictures which professionals have already made into postcards.)   The 'Third Age' card, basically a discount card for folks over 60, that Rebecca obtained (after a bit of adventure), provided us free or reduced entry to several locations.  There are too many items to report about in a single issue of our newsletter, but Mrs.T covers several highlights below.  (She said she was about 'writ out' and hopes to finish up later.)

 

 

 

Well after the travel agent fiasco Dan began making our travel arrangements to Oaxaca.  He found a nice little bed and breakfast and booked our airline tickets.

 

Dan and I are both nervous travelers.  I don't like being around a lot of strangers and Dan does not like not being in control.  (Well, I like things to be organized –dt) We had previously experienced a near miss in the Mexico City airport when they kept changing our departure gate.  So as soon as we arrived Dan wanted me to find the gate.  I refused until after using the facilities.  We had two hours - plenty of time.  The flight was not listed on the board so I inquired at a gate and they told me to check back in 15 or 20 minutes.  Plenty of time to grab a sandwich, I thought.  Dan was not hungry and was pretty sure we would be fed on the plane. (!)(I just said it was a possibility. -dt) I ignored him and went and bought two club sandwiches.  Although Dan was not hungry he wolfed his right down.  Eventually the gate was on the board.  We got to the gate an hour early.  It was a small plane and they did give us a little bag of peanuts.

 

As we approached Oaxaca I asked Dan if that could be the airport.  He was unsure.  It was, one runway, and one terminal, but after all that was all we needed.  A collectivo (a little van taxi) took us to our B&B.  Oaxaca is a pretty big city which sprawls across a valley between the Sierra Norte and the Sierra Sur mountains. (Population close to 300000 –dt) There are no skyscrapers in the old downtown area, and it has the feeling of time past if you can ignore the ubiquitous cell phones.

 

Casa Ollin (http://www.oaxacabedandbreakfast.com/ ) was charming, the project of a slightly bemused ex-pat lawyer from California, John, and a competent Mexican tour guide, Judith.  We unpacked and traipsed down the hill in search of the zocalo (the main plaza).  Before we had gone more than a couple of blocks we ran into a peregrination (a Mexican parade, you may recall).  It was preceded by a boomer letting off Roman candles.  Then came Los Altos (this translates literally as the talls); they were dancing to the music of the children's band which followed them.  Talls are huge cloth figures of people that are about 10 feet tall and are maneuvered by one person inside.  I quite liked the talls!  After the band came a bunch of uniformed school children laughing and chanting who were escorted by a few resigned looking mothers and teachers.  There was a short space and the sequence repeated itself:  talls, band, kids.  After about six or eight schools the parade was over.  I inquired of another spectator and was told the parade was in honor of their schools.  (Then we went another block and saw a completely different set of schools.  –dt)

 

When we arrived at the zocalo a band was playing Cuban music and a lot of people, most of them older, were dancing on the square.  We soaked up the atmosphere while eating at one of the small open air restaurants.  People were hawking every sort of thing.  There were some very cute woven straw piggies.  The guy selling them had a noise maker that made pig noises.  I thought I probably needed one, but Dan did not think I did.  Families were strolling together.  Touristas were gawking and taking pictures.  On one side of the square was the cathedral and on the other was the old governor's palace (now government offices and a museum.  In front of it there were a couple of half hearted demonstrations going on.  One was about rights for indigenous people and one about women's rights.  Although I tend to be a bleeding heart liberal, it was hard for me to be too concerned when the demonstrators were calmly knitting, crocheting, and weaving baskets as they sat under their signs.  Around the square were trees, flowers, benches, and of course the loveliest of all were the Jacarandas trees which were covered with purple blooms. 

 

We wandered back looking at the grand stone churches along the way.  Lots of areas were enclosed in high stone walls.  This was the old section of town and by old I mean some of it was five centuries old.  The walls were entered through tall wooden doors.  When the doors were open, you could see they were made of heavy wooden planks 3 or 4 inches thick.  The doors had great iron spikes with roundels around them.  The outer walls varied from six inches to six feet thick.  These guys were ready for a siege!  Just before we arrived at the B&B we came upon a small park where lots of young people were spooning, as it were. I christened it the kissing park.

 

The next day we headed out to look at the museum of contemporary art.  This was in an old convent with beautiful arches, atriums, columns and so on.  The main exhibit was a disturbing concept piece about the impermanence of life.  It was interesting but not exactly cheerful.  We came to another exhibit which had something to do with a lot of naked people.  I did not get to try and figure it out because I was too busy beating Dan about the head and shoulders for making inappropriate comments.  (Just commenting on the wonderful art. –dt) There were also some really excellent photos here.

 

We went on a Tour of the Ethnobotanical Garden.   This was hidden behind one

stone wall.  It was in the compound of the old monastery of Santo Domingo.  This garden was only twelve years old but they had transplanted many mature plants and trees that were native to the state of Oaxaca.  We had an English speaking guide who explained both the traditional and the modern uses of many of these plants.   She also told us a lot of plant lore.  I highly recommend it for plant lovers. 

 

One Zapotec legend goes something like this:

 

At first there were only plants.  One day there was a big storm.  Lightning struck the top of the Kapok tree.  This made a big hole in the top of the tree.  Out of this hole, one by one climbed all of the animals, one male and one female of each.  Last of all out climbed the first man and the first woman.  This is why the Kapok tree is scared to our people.  It is because we remember that it is the Mother Tree, the Tree of Life.

 

In Mexico you often see folk crafts which feature the 'Tree of Life' motif.  I was aware that these trees always seemed to have horizontal branches.  As I stared at the Kapok trees in the garden I recognized the form.

 

The White Mountain, Monte Alban, was a main reason I wanted to visit Oaxaca.

This is an ancient Indian site.  It was first settled by the Olmecs, then later the

            site was appropriated by the Zapotecs.  After the Zapotecs left, the Mextecs used it as a ceremonial site.  I am fascinated by these ancient sites.  The Olmec was one of the earliest Mexican Civilizations.  They had writing and a calendar some 2500 years ago.  We knew Monte Alban would be exhausting.  (One of the French Canadian couples from the previous episode visited before us and filled us in a bit.  –dt)

 

            Monte Alban is a very large site about 7500ft (roughly 2300m) above sea level.  (Oaxaca itself is at altitude of about 5000ft (abut 1500m) –dt) So we determined to leave early and take it slow.  The van bus let us off at the parking area and we climbed up to the entrance.  Several guides were standing there evaluating the prospects.  One of them pasted a friendly smile on his face, murmured a claim on us to his cohorts and came to us to offer his services.  Our guide introduced himself by his Indian name which he told us translated as hungry coyote (hereafter known as Mr. C.).(I think it was laughing coyote –dt)  He told us he would give us a nice tour, very slow, not too many steps to climb.  Sounded good to me!

 

Climbing up we got a good look out over the valley below. I wondered why the Olmec would build their city so high.  Mr. C explained that at one time the valley had been a lake.  The ancient city had covered a wide area.  About 300,000 Olmec could attend ceremonial events at one time.  Mr. C who was descended from the Olmec was quick to point out that these never included human sacrifices. 

 

The time and energy it must have taken to create the intricately patterned sandstone buildings and carvings tells us something of the organization and dedication of this society.  Sandstone is easier to cut than, say, granite but it takes incredible control and patience.  For example, the Maya using a harder stone for their carved designs.  The Olmec formed multiple stone pieces and fit them together, dry!  As the Olmec script has not been deciphered there is a lot about this people we do not know.

 

The different tribal peoples of Mexico and their descendents can be identified by their physical characteristics as shown in their carvings.  Mr. C was a broad shouldered Olmec with a big nose.  Dan was named a possible Olmec because he shared these attributes.  My mere schmere nose proved I probably did not belong anywhere in pre-Columbian Mexico. (sigh!)  The differences in ruins show cultural differences too.  The Mayan ball courts were very large to accommodate a team sport which used a rubber ball.  The Olmex court had a lot of seating but the court itself was small.  Theirs was an individual contest with a pelo pelota, literally a hairball.  Such was the life with the jaguar people (Ha Ha!).

 

Of all the things we saw and did in Oaxaca my favorite was seeing the Tree of Tule.  This Monterey Cypress is the biggest tree in the world.  That is what they said anyway, and I believed it.  It is in no way the tallest tree or the oldest tree, although they do think it is over 2000 years old.  But having been overwhelmed by the sequoias, I assure you that two or three of their trunks could fit in the trunk of the Tree of Tule.  The other thing is with redwoods and sequoias the treetops are so high they seem remote.  With the Tree of Tule you could reach up and touch the branches hanging down.  There are, of course, signs telling you not to do this but, when I thought no one was looking, I held up one fingertip and for a moment the tree and I were connected.  I love the Tree of Tule.  (Check out http://www.sue-feathersandflowers.blogspot.com/ for 25 March 2011. –dt  (Happy B-day J))

 

 

Photos of this part of the trip are at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157626351197450/

 

A note about last issue's photos:  You saw a couple of photos of some ceramic pieces.   These were some of the pieces made by Nick when he visited in December and left for us to glaze.  They came out quite nicely and we greatly appreciate them.

 

The season is about over and we will be back in the holler in a couple of weeks.  We will be seeing many of you in April.

 

Dan and Rebecca

http://www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting There is Half the Fun

GOING TO OAXACA – Part I or

How do you get to Oaxaca?

 

 

Although our newsletter comes out irregularly, we average about one per month.  A few folks made inquiries about the lack of an epistle in February.  Well, we were originally scheduled to take a vacation to Oaxaca, Oaxaca, in southern Mexico in February.  As you will read below, there were some 'complications' with those arrangements and the newsletter muse was more than a little consternated.  In any case, we did manage to go to Oaxaca during the first week of March.  (After Mrs.T used a better travel agent.-dt)  For those of you who were hereabouts at the time, much of this will be old information.  But then you were able to enjoy (?) the events, frustrations, and discontent in real time.

 

 

 

I like to travel around Mexico.  I told Dan I thought we should go to Oaxaca this year.  Dan on the other hand likes to sit under the palapa reading a book. (I do some other things also.  And I do enjoy travelling. -dt)   I told him he could stay and I would go alone, but no he would go.  However this was my project and I had to make the arrangements.  This was a trick.  If anything went wrong (and there is always something, isn't there?), he planned on glaring at me and mumbling rude things under his breath.  Already he was planning to enjoy the trip at least a bit.  I must admit Dan does not discriminate.  If something goes wrong with plans he makes, he mumbles rude things to himself.  But I found a local travel agent in early February.  How wonderful!  This way there could be no mistakes because of my imperfect Spanish.  What a great idea - at least that is what I thought at the time.  Alas no!

 

It started out very well.  They called up pictures of hotels on their computer.  They also accessed the airline schedules.  The first hitch came with how I was going to pay for it.  I had been warned not to let out my credit card number in Mexico so I decided to pay cash.  I got a printed Itinerary and a receipt.  They would bring the tickets for the flights and the hotel reservations in a couple of days.   When they did not show up a couple of days later I called and they said they were having problems with the computer.  I could understand that.  The next time I called there were problems with the reorganization of the main office in Guadalajara. Then the airlines were reorganizing their files.  As the time of our scheduled departure approached I became more and more nervous.  Dan had begun to mumble.  (I had already been prompting her to call the agent. –dt)  Saturday two days before our scheduled Monday departure, I called and the boss was not there but the boy in the office said the boss would be coming in on Sunday to make sure things were in order and would bring the travel documents to our condo. Dan had checked the airline site and they did not show a reservation for us.  After several calls on Sunday before our scheduled departure the travel agent said he had to reschedule our departure for Wednesday.  But he assured us our reservations were made and we were all set for Wednesday.

 

At this point we were very suspicious.   The next day, Monday (the original scheduled departure day), Dan got on the computer and contacted the airline again.  We still had no reservations.  "What do you plan to do about this?!"  Dan asked me.  I told him I planned to walk downtown and talk to the travel agent in person.  When I got down there, the agent was not there.  There was only the young man who worked there.  He was very apologetic.  He called the agent who said he would bring us the tickets at 5 that afternoon.  I told him that was not OK.  Another phone call ensued and the agent said he would be there at 2pm.  About this time four VERY ANGRY French Canadians appeared.  They had booked tickets the month before but when they got to the airport the airlines would not honor their voucher because the agent had never actually paid for the tickets. (AARGH!!)  The young man confided that he had not been paid for a month either.  Things were not looking good.

 

The French Canadians - hereafter referred to as FCs - did not speak any Spanish but one of them spoke English.  After we conferred they went out and called the police.  The first policeman (There are very few female police officers. –dt) who came knew little English and no French and I was trying to translate.  Pretty soon an English-speaking cop appeared.  At this time after another phone call the agent came.  He promised to bring our money at 3 the next afternoon, even if he had to sell his truck.  One of the FCs remarked unsympathetically that she didn't care if he sold his house as long as they got their money back.  I felt the same.

 

Still unsatisfied but slightly more hopeful we went home to see what the morrow would bring.  The FCs picked me up and we all arrived at 3 but there was no agent.  The young man from the previous day was there and another agent who was trying to sell tickets to a bunch of Canadians.  I told them on no account should they give these guys any money.  So they left.  The lady agent was really angry but when I gave her my grumpy look she backed off.  The FCs went out and returned shortly with a different set of police.  One of them spoke English and we repeated our sad tale including the fact that the agent had promised to be there this day with the money.  At this point the lady agent started talking very fast in Spanish so I would not understand.

 

"What did she say?" I asked.  She had told the police that the agent never promised to bring us back our money.  As she had not been there the previous day she could not know this.  I told the police to ask the other employee and he confirmed that the agent had promised to bring our money back at three.  He also told them that the lady had not been there.  The police then turned on the lady and asked her why she was lying.  She immediately admitted she had not been there and knew nothing about it. (A small victory!)

 

The police called in another set of police (They travel in pairs in silver and red striped relatively new SUVs.) and we had to go through the whole thing again.  These police decided to call in a Fiscal which is something like a prosecuting attorney.  After much debate she seemed to agree that they could arrest the head travel agent for fraud.  It must have been a slow crime day in Bucerias because two more police vehicles showed up and were hanging out.  I felt that 8 policeman with huge guns were more that enough to subdue one travel agent. About this time the agent showed up and promised that he would pay us the next day without fail and then bolted out the door.  The FCs and I returned to our homes dissatisfied.  I think it was at this time Dan stopped mumbling and said right out loud that we probably would never see that money again and if I didn't get the money back we were not going to Oaxaca this year.  So in addition to being angry with the agent I was annoyed with Dan.

 

Dan was staying home leaving all of this for me to deal with aside from benefitting from his extensive advice of course.  This was probably for the best because he gets angrier and I would not have enjoyed visiting him in a Mexican jail.  At 10 the next morning the FCs met me at the Fiscal office. There was no agent with our money.  But equally irritating was the fact that the prosecuting attorney refused to file our complaint. Her idea was that we did not want to file a complaint because there would be a lot of paperwork involved and the case would not be solved for a long time.  (Probably true on both counts –dt)  She thought we should wait a few days and maybe the agent would pay us.  Except for the police, some of whom seemed very interested in arresting the agent, the Mexican legal system seemed to be based on the idea slow and sure wins the race.  (This is the same in the USA and it is very frustrating there too.)  The prosecutor did not have the travel agent's telephone number but perhaps there was a good reason the agent did not come with our money.  The FCs and I agreed there was a good reason, HE DID NOT WANT TO GIVE OUR MONEY BACK!!!  "But this is your lucky day!" I told the prosecutor, "Because I DO have his phone number."  The prosecutor, grumpy at having to do something useful swished away to call the travel agent.  He promised (no surprise here) to bring all our money that very evening at 7.  The prosecutor told us we must give him one more chance leaving the FCs and I very grumpy and the police unhappy also; they were in an arresting mood.

Back at the Fiscal office that evening we were not surprised to find no agent.  The prosecutor once again refused to file charges against him.  The agent had promised her to bring our money the next morning at ten.  Another lawyer approached the FCs and me and said, "I don't think this prosecutor is handling this very well.  If you would like, my friend and I can go and talk to the travel agent and explain he has to give your money back or go to jail. Would you like that?"  We all thought this was a great idea.  What we didn't understand was that this lawyer was not another prosecutor.  We had just hired a Mexican lawyer.

 

The next morning was very exciting.  About 8:30 the police came looking for me.  It turned out to be one of the English-speaking officers who wanted to encourage me to file a complaint and offered to help with both the reluctant prosecutor and the larcenous travel agent.  About 9 I got a call from the travel agent asking the exact amount he owed us and assuring me I would be paid that morning.  I assumed that he had been found by the police and the fear of God put into to him.  Well I was half right.

 

The FCs and I arrived at the Fiscal office shortly before ten.  The Two Mexican lawyers were there (I neglected to mention that one of them strongly resembled an OSU linebacker.) and they had collected all of our money.  "We did have to lean on him a little," one of them told me. I did not inquire further.  (I suspect they were 'leaning' on him at the moment he called and wanted to know the exact amount he owed. –dt) We signed a receipt and they gave us the money.  The thing we were not expecting was that the Mexican lawyers wanted a collection fee.  That is when we learned they were not part of the judicial system but independent attorneys.  (Ambulance chasers perhaps. –dt) They asked for15% I offered 5% and we settled on 10%.  Civil law is odd; you start out wanting justice and what is right but after a while it seems as if you will be satisfied to get almost whatever it is you want.  Judging by these standards, although perhaps a bit more basic, the Mexican legal system worked a lot better for me than my unfortunate experiences with the US legal system.

 

Also our new Mexican lawyer left me his name and phone number and told me if I ever had any other problems of any kind he would be glad to help me sort them out.  After I recovered the money Dan said he would make the arrangements for our trip to Oaxaca; that will be in Part II.  Here are a few teaser photos:

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157626273013156/

 

(As a postscript:  We should note that we do not know if the travel agent was trying to take our money, if there were really problems at the office in Guadalajara, or if he was just incompetent.  The one thing in his favor is that he never tried to actually skip town. –dt)

 

 

Some announcements are in order.  First, many of you switched to daylight savings time already; here we will switch the first weekend in April so we may be more or fewer hours different from you.  Second, we have another vacation in the works for June; we will be travelling to Seattle for the Glass Art Society Conference and from there to Canada for a couple of weeks.  Those of you in that cold country up north will shortly be receiving an email explaining our itinerary.

 

Finally, our thoughts and prayers go out to the people of Japan.  We are very thankful our wonderful good friend KK is okay and safe.

 

Best wishes to all.  And may your spring begin soon.

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com