Feet of Clay

From the beginning, there was no way to keep our feet clean. I think the streets are just filled with dirt, but our apartment floor - while appearing clean - is just a dust trap. I instituted measures early to avoid dirty feet - and keep it out of our beds, basically wearing shoes or socks all the time. However, the last few weeks, my feet are just ground-in dirty. Every little crease is grey.

Somewhere along the line, this reminded me of the foot-washing in the Bible. And of the belief in India that the soles of the feet are the lowliest parts of the body, because they touch the earth. How common dirty feet must be in unpaved societies. How cushioned we are - literally - from this experience in modern America.

You see a lot more feet here, because many people wear sandals or flip-flops. I've even seen indigenous vendors barefoot in the market. There's a lot of calluses and thickened nails. Which I guess explains the existence of stores like this one:

Enlarge the photos and you'll see they offer help with buried nails, nail fungus, callouses, and correct cutting of the nails for normal and diabetic feet!

Protest, Parte Dos

Last week, I spent one morning at the Oaxaca State Prison with a volunteer chaplain. Getting there was a nail biter, because the busses blocked traffic on the biggest intersection in the city. I think it was in support of the University teachers strike.

Protest! Protest! Protest!

Oaxaca is a city with many protests and strikes. My collaborator explained to me that the University regularly shuts down on random days near the time of the contract negotiations with all seven unions.

Today, the taxi drivers are unhappy because the government doesn't crack down on illegal taxis. So, in order to make the government listen, they are protesting by stopping their cabs in the middle of every intersection in the downtown area. It is very surreal.

Isn't It Rico?

This afternoon in the park near our apartment there was a big gathering of 20-30 people. I couldn't really tell what they were talking about, but a few of them had clipboards and several times one of them would stand on the ledge of the fountain to speak loudly to the assorted group. They were mostly men, but not exclusively, and there was a big age range. My guess would be it was some sort of union organizing or similar gathering.

Oh, and four of the men were in full clown costumes, makeup and all. One was even carrying what appeared to be a ventriloquist dummy. Also dressed as a clown.

Retro Cool

This bar down the block from us has long been intriguing to E. I don't think it's a new found appreciation of Duran Duran, but rather the colorful paintings of Lucha Libre masks and superhero logos hanging on the walls. And for several weeks he begged to go inside.

So one afternoon while K was at a lecture at the Oaxaca Lending Library, I took him in, hoping to hang out for a few minutes and maybe have a cerveza.

But we were thwarted. Four year olds may be allowed to ride on their parents laps on motorcycles with no helmets here in Oaxaca, but they are not allowed to step foot in a karaoke bar at 4 in the afternoon when nobody else is there but the bartender. Oh well, E will have to wait until another day to hear "We Got The Beat".

El Qwerty

K has written before about the tendency here in Mexico to fix mechanical objects rather than dispose of them, and the way that at times it makes the country seems like it is still the 70's. So I was not surprised at all to walk by a typewriter store today. Granted they were mostly electric typewriters from the end of the 20th century and not funky antique typewriters, but still it was cool.

Dientes Dulces

One day, E came home with this award.

He apparently won a game for his "Habilidades de mouse" - abilities with a mouse - during clase de computacion. Yes, this is 21st century schooling here!

It also came with a huge bag of candy. After he got one lollipop, the rest went into the ever-growing bag of candy that I keep hidden under the sink.

I don't even think that's all of it. I think I threw some out or gave some away, and of course he's eaten some. It is just astonishing how much candy kids receive here. During calendas, at concerts, for holidays, and now at school.

Much of it wouldn't interest E - it's chilesalada or chamoyada. In addition, I'm pretty reticent about commercial Mexican candy, after seeing a news report a few years back about high levels of lead. I'm planning to keep a few pieces to pacify him during our travels home, and leave the rest to a local orphanage.

Patriotism

Every Monday morning, all of the students at E's preschool get in a big circle and do a ceremony with the Mexican flag. A group of four girls carry the flag around in the circle while the other kids stand and salute (Trivia fact: did you know that Mexicans salute with their hand on their chest rather than their forehead? I had no idea!) and sing the national anthem and recite what I can only assume is something akin to the Pledge of Allegiance. Mondays are the days that the kids all wear their dress uniforms, so they all look extra good doing this.

I have a feeling that if E's preschool in the US had the kids do this I would find it a bit creepy and filled with right-wing undertones, but here in Mexico I find it utterly adorable.

At a Fiesta

I had no idea that foosball was so popular here. Or anywhere.

Feria De Mezcal

One of the classes of older kids at E's school made big posters for each month listing the major events that occur to celebrate. I can't help but wonder if any school in the US would ever have a poster commemorating a Celebration of Bourbon or a Microbrewery Festival. Maybe in Portlandia...

Price Is Right

While not exact, I'm using a basic exchange rate of 10 pesos to the dollar. It makes for easy math.

It doesn't change my constant bafflement at prices. Most food seems relatively inexpensive. Some is just crazy cheap - a few bags of salt for 60 cents.

When things strike me as expensive (olive oil, parmesan cheese), I do the calculation and realize it's about what we would pay in the states.

Anything imported or with branding is a lot more. We see action figure toys for 500 pesos, that's $50US. Are they really selling a collectible action figure in a discount grocery store?

Amor y Amistad

As I understand it, they don't celebrate Valentines Day here in Mexico. Instead, February 14th is celebrated as "Dia Del Amor Y Amistad" -- the day of love and friendship. As the name suggests, the focus is not just on romantic love but on more general types of affection (which makes it a far less weird holiday for preschools to be celebrating, but I digress). Here in Oaxaca, it is celebrated as a big party, with music and chocolate and revelry.

And balloons. Lots of balloons. Now, I'm pretty sure that on a normal day Oaxaca has the largest number of balloon vendors per capita anywhere on the planet. But yesterday things kicked it up a notch or three. Throughout town, you could not walk more than ten yards without passing someone with a huge set of balloons for sale -- hearts and stars and "Te Quieres" and "Mil Besos" and the like, in addition to the normal balloons featuring superheroes and Elmo and Dora. There were also people selling flowers and even the people who normally sell bubblegum and scarves where pitching it as a special gift for Dia Del Amor y Amistad.

We spent some time in the zocalo, and it was more crowded than I have seen it since New Years Eve, including one stage set up with senior citizens doing Guelaguetza dancing and another stage set up where it appeared that a series of Quincenera girls were doing elaborately choreographed dance routines with the same set of five male dancers -- who later put on masks and started dancing to Gangnam Style, because we haven't left American civilization THAT far behind. We quickly ducked into a museum in search of a bano and it was filled with a salsa band and many many people. We also saw a number of mariachi bands wandering the zocalo, but unfortunately did not get to hear any of them play.

All in all, it was a pretty wild party (and from what we heard from our apartment it went on far past our early bedtime), but what else would one expect from this fun city.

Disturbing

And this is the new packaging!

International Food

Pasta is our non-Mexican go-to food here. You can find noodles and sauce easily, and its simple to make at home, filling, and uses up the last two liters of water you have to our into a pot to give the water man the old bottle.

It feels a little funny to cook Italian food in Mexico, but then I noticed the statement printed on the lower right side of the "Parmesan" cheese label and just laughed.

No Cambiar

One thing about Oaxaca is that you pretty much have to use cash everywhere. Our rent, our son's tuition, many places you buy food, and just in general it is hard to use credit cards. Yes, this makes me feel somewhat silly for going out of our way to get a new credit card with no foreign transaction fees, but thats no big deal. We just take a lot of money out of the ATM at a time.

Another thing about Oaxaca is that nobody has change. Ever. For one example, we took a cab a few weeks ago that cost 40 pesos. I had a 50 peso bill, and the driver could not make change for me, making me go from storefront to storefront until someone was willing to grudgingly break my 50 peso bill. Keep in mind that it is roughly 12 pesos to the dollar, so this would be like an American not being able to break a $5 bill for a $4 fare.

Another example is that today I had to pay my son's tuition bill. We owed $2030 pesos. I had four $500 peso bills and a $100 peso bill. And the school couldn't make change, despite the fact that lots of parents were needing to pay their tuition this week. As I watched the assistant principal go from classroom to classroom seeing if any of the teachers could break a $100 peso bill (which they couldn't do, for the record), I couldn't help but imagine the VP for Finance at my college going from classroom to classroom asking faculty if they had change for a ten dollar bill. It doesn't seem like that would happen.

I understand that there are cultural differences, and I shouldnt expect things to work here the way they work in the US. I really do. I just don't understand how everybody else manages to have the small bills they need to pay for things but not the small bills they need to make change for things. We are constantly trying to figure out ways to have small money, and while I normally like strategizing and game theory, this is one nut I have yet to crack.

The Pyramid Next Door

Last weekend, we traveled to El Mogote, because we thought E would enjoy an archeological site. At first it seemed the little community museum would disappoint, but we surveyed the 3-d map of the area and determined that the mount, ie pyramid, was just behind the building we were in. We walked past the church, guys playing on the basketball court, up a dirt alley, past the elementary school, said hi to some chickens and a horse, and climbed up a 2,000 year old mound. It had a stunning view of the valley, and E was exhilarated, running around shouting that he was "king of the world." It is the only one of the 8 mounds that has been restored, but that doesn't seem to stop it from being pasture for various animals. It was covered with all variety of manure.

Senor de Esquipulas

A big chunk of our weekend was taken up by the festival that our neighborhood church (which I say despite the fact that there are at least a half dozen large cathedrals within a five block radius of our house.  But this was one of them) was throwing in celebration of the Senor de Esquipulas, often referred to as the Black Christ.  This is an important and meaningful celebration throughout central America, which you can read about here, but being the heathen that I am I viewed it mostly as a chance to soak in more Mexican culture and traditions.  And this festival was full of them.

Friday night we went to the church in time to hear the end of mass and then watch the churchyard erupt into celebration with music and dancing and chocolate to drink.  We then joined in a calenda, which is a celebratory procession following a truck with the black Christ statue on its back through the streets of the neighborhood, with fireworks and music and giant puppets and dancing.  It was lots of fun.

Sunday afternoon we wandered back over to the church for a cultural festival featuring dance performances from different regions, food, and lots more live music.  E even got to take a turn inside one of the giant puppets:

But the highlight was Sunday evening.  After dinner and some rest at home we returned to the church and watched another procession with the statue, but this one was much more solemn, with quieter music and incense and lots of banners decorated with silver.

 

When the statue returned to the church, the whole place turned back into a party with confetti and more music and dancing.  And a fireworks show.

I know what I said the other day about how fireworks shows were more casual here in Oaxaca, and for the most part I stand by it.  But last night was the exception that proves the rule, as it was just like an American fireworks spectacular in scope, but not in content.  You see, when we arrived at the church on Sunday afternoon we saw what already looked like a pretty big structure covered with firecrackers.

But that was nothing compared to what it looked like later in the evening:

I would guess it was fifty or sixty feet tall.  And covered with firecrackers decorated as words and flowers and Guadalupes and a Christ figure.  And when it was time for the show, it was indeed quite a show.  There was dancing -- including a series of people dancing in a cow costume that was covered with firecrackers that were shooting off while they were dancing! -- and there were angels made out of firecrackers that flew into the air as they were going off.  And there was that structure itself.  Which did not actually seem quite this scary when it was doing its thing, but still sent smoke and debris and sparks everywhere.

I'm not sure I have seen anything quite like this show.  The closest thing would be at a festival that Fort Worth held in conjunction with the 1995 MLB All-Star game, but that had those pesky safety standards that Americans seem to hold dear, whereas this was just lights and colors and noise.  And smoke.  Lots of smoke.  It was quite an event.

Hmm

One reason to live in a foreign country is to experience new things. And for the most part Oaxaca has not disappointed. Especially when it comes to culinary experiments, where I have almost never been let down by a meal.

But that chicken stuffed with cheese in banana sauce...Huh. I'm not sure about that one.

Gunpowder and sky

One of the things about Oaxaca is that there are a lot of fireworks. A lot. In my experiences in the US, fireworks typically mean a big event -- the Fourth of July or a carnival or something -- and they come in big elaborate shows, often with synchronized music. Not here. Pretty much every evening there are fireworks somewhere around town, and they often come in very short bursts. An explosion here, an explosion there. Sometimes on a weekend, sometimes just on a Tuesday afternoon. Sometimes it seems to be at a party or a church, but other times it is just kids playing in a park.

At first, my inclination when I heard fireworks was to run outside and watch the show or to try to figure out what the event was that was inspiring them. But over the last few weeks I have realized this is a futile effort. By the time you look up the show is likely to be over, and who knows when the next explosion will be. I am slowly getting used to this and realizing that I should just enjoy the lights when I see them and not worry about the ones I am missing because there will be some more soon.

There's probably a deeper life lesson there, but I'm just going to go back to my taco now.

Earthquake!

Really! At the end of my yoga class this morning, we were all seated on the ground for meditation, and we all felt the temblor. It was awesome and profound, not scary at all. In that moment, I realized I had been subconsciously hoping to experience an earthquake while we were here. When I checked the news, it turns out there have been several earthquakes in the 5-6 range since we've been in Oaxaca. I guess we just need to start paying attention.