Oaxaca

photos Oaxaca vacation 2004



I’d sooner spend my time dreaming up some great fictional work to write about rather than waste a second of my time watching the news. I don't like to get depressed about something out of my control. So, many years ago right or wrong, I tuned out. But, lately I’ve found myself searching out news about what is happening in Oaxaca. For anyone not too familiar with Mexico, Oaxaca (wa-hawk-a) is the capital city of the State also named Oaxaca. It is one of the southern most states of Mexico and 4800 kilometers; roughly 3000 miles from the part of Mexico we live in.

Oaxaca was on my must visit list for many years before I finally got there the summer of 2004. Once there I realized two weeks wasn’t enough, Oaxaca got put back on my to visit again list and a maybe to live their one day idea.

You can see, hear, touch, and even eat history in Oaxaca. There are no ropes tied off to prevent you from climbing the pyramid steps of the pre-Columbia ruins Monte Albán . In the surrounding villages you can see the indigenous women weaving, molding, and painting the intricate yet primitive art work passed onto them over generations. You can lunch on the same food the Mayans ate, that is if you are brave enough. The high protein food staple they enjoyed is called Champulines (champ-pooh-lean-ays) or in English - grasshoppers. If you squeeze a lot of lime on them, they’re not so bad. Evenings are a time for people watching from one of the many restaurant patios surrounding the zocolo (plaza) while being serenaded by a Mariachi band.

Oh, I love Oaxaca.....

None of the peaceful tranquility we enjoyed in 2004 exists at this moment of time. For now it’s a political mess so intricate news coverage can’t do it justice. Under the guise of reform thugs are burning historical buildings, causing deaths, and holding this beautiful city hostage to their violence. Yesterday, I called the owner of the small hotel Cid de León that we stayed at. It’s one short block from the zocolo which is under siege. I was anxious to make sure Leticia, her family and the beautiful old house they had turned into a marvelous home away from home style hotel were all doing well. Leticia remembered me even remembered our son’s name and broke into tears touched we were thinking of them. She said it is bad but it will get better and they are doing okay, no guests of course but “Please” she said. “Come back when things are normal again, our home is your home.”

I promised we’d return.

I know what is a happening in Oaxaca is a mini version of the destruction happening in so many different parts of our world. I know the news sensationalizes the sorry mess. I don't understand how violence can make peace. I guess when something is happening in a place you love it’s not possible to tune out.