To Galapagos via Guayaquil

We left our apartment Friday, catching a cab to a van service office.  After waiting half an hour past the stated departure time (and with no explanation...were we being taken into white slavery?), the four passengers going to Guayaquil were ushered (squeezed, actually) into yet another cab.  A fellow traveler, a lovely young Russian woman, told us that the transit police are targeting transport vans (as opposed to taxis and buses) and will not let them come into Cuenca proper—although she didn't know the reason for this.  So the van took us about 25 miles out of the city to a scenic overlook in the Cajas National Park where we were met by the van and driver who would take us on to Guayaquil.

The Ecuadoran mountains are fantastically gorgeous.  From Cuenca to Guayaquil, we climbed up to a pass that is over 4300 meters—more than 14,000 feet.  Twisting and turning around steep curves, we passed through a cloud-shrouded landscape, dotted with hundreds of small lakes.  The vegetation, seen from a careening van, is varied--friom shades of green to gray, along deep gorges and gigantic peaks.

Cajas National Park--formed by a melting glaciers thousands of years ago, it is filled with over 200 lakes.

Our new Russian friend, Mila, had met an Ecuadoran student in Moscow when she was 18, married him, and immigrated to Ecuador.  Now divorced, she has two grown sons who both speak Russian, Spanish and English, and she herself speaks lovely Spanish and a delightfully accented English.  She was so nice to us and gave us lots of helpful Ecuadoran related travel and survival hints.

The park is filled with many twists & turns, giving our loco driver plenty of opportunities to pass on blind curves.

Private travel van drivers all over the world must be cut from the same cloth—macho men who must constantly be testing themselves by going too fast and passing when and where they shouldn’t. Our driver, a seemingly nice young man, became a crazed idiot behind the wheel. We survived, but just.  It was bad enough when he passed on blind curves in the mountains, but getting to the flat countryside leading into Guayaquil, he decided to test all limits and began passing on double lines with oncoming traffic well within sight. 

Just outside of the city, he started around yet another long line of traffic, with an equally long line coming towards us. It was inevitable that something bad would happen—we squeezed between the first car in the oncoming line and the line of vehicles on our side of the road, but the second oncoming vehicle, a mortocycle, could not see us and the driver swerved into our driver's side mirror, taking it completely off.  Did anyone stop ? Not us.  Was that driver injured?  Who knows ?  Looking back behind us, it looked like an accident scene but we couldn't tell for sure as we just kept flying down the highway.  From then on we held our breath until safely reaching the airport.  Insane !

Outside of Guayaquil--a huge agriculture center--fresh fruits are sold by the roadside.

As our flight to the Galapagos didn’t leave until early the next day, we had to take a taxi into the city.  Approaching Guayaquil, through huge farms and bedraggled towns and villages, it clearly looks and feels (hot and humid) like the last place on earth one would like to visit.  Downtown is choked with traffic, as so many cities, large and small, in the world seem to be these days. Our modest little hostel, Casa de Romero, was on the 7^th floor of what looked to be a high rise apartment building-- once we got to our room, we found a Spartan but comfortable and clean room, with a tiny balcony overlooking the city.

One thing to recommend the hotel is that it is just five blocks from the Malecon—a many miles long river “boardwalk” (though made of concrete) along the Guayas River, that has been upgraded and modernized so that it is a delightful place to stroll,  enjoying the refreshing evening breezes wafting off the river. 

We were really pleasantly surprised by the Malecon, the weather, and the people we met and saw along our walk.  Lined with children’s parks, restaurants, bars, exercise trails, and benches, the Malecon is truly a treasure for the city and its citizens as well as for weary travelers like us, romantic young lovers and international tourists (we could identify folks from many countries).

Guayaquil's Malecon is a delightful place to stroll & relax & at this season enjoy their new Christmas Tree.

As we were walking along, we were delighted to come upon a free concert by a Navy Band—La Banda Blanca. (We thought it was an Ecaudorean band but have since been told it was visiting Nicaraguan band.) Anyway, it made us think fondly of our niece, Susie, who sings with the U.S. Navy Sea Chanters—although there seemed to no women in the band or in its singing group.  Still, we very much enjoyed the hour long concert and it was a nice way to relax after our harrowing across the mountains van ride.

It was Thanksgiving Day, so we celebrated by eating the only American food we could find--KFC ! Reminiscing about the many wonderful Thanksgiving holidays we have share with family & friends--hope you had a good "Dia por La Accion de Gracias".

We were slow getting this--connections in the Galapagos were not always the best, as might be expected.

Car alarms, orchids and Guinea Pigs

Hola ! Buenas tardes !  Nosotros vamos a escribir en espanol, porque ahora nosotros somos fluidos.   LOL  !  We did learn that the website spanishdict.com is very good for translation.  We live at the corner of Juan Jaramillo and Manuel Vega, the Cuenca car repair district.

Sue standing on Manuel Vega in front of restaurant & car seat repair shop (our apartment is behind the shop.)

To give you a sense of our neighborhood, you need to understand that up and down most blocks in “neighborhood” Cuenca (central Cuenca contains modern stores and lots of banks like most cities) there are narrow stores or tiendas, each about eight to ten feet or so wide.  Most are stuffed to the gills with whatever the vendor is selling.  On some streets these wares are specific—several whole blocks of fabric sellers, men’s tailors, women’s clothing, baby items, stationery and even sunglasses— three or four whole tiny stores on one block dedicated to a zillion sunglasses.

 In between are teeny 7-11 type tiendas selling what we would find in gas stations:  cold drinks, snacks, household items you might need spur of the moment. Interspersed, also, are teeny restaurants—often with three tables or so (two or four seaters), two or three huge pots of something cooking in the entryway or front window and a mysterious curtained back area—more cooking and for cleaning-no doubt.

One of these little eating establishments is next door to us (haven’t tried it yet) and they are up before dawn, so we wake to incredible food smells most mornings.   The sound we wake up to is not the trilling of birds, but the trilling of numerous car alarms going off.  We lucked out into getting an apartment smack in the middle of car alarm central along with other automotive supply tiendas.  But the car alarms are the killers—don’t they need to demonstrate before anyone would buy?  Why, of course!

Four car alarm vendors in one block--and only two blocks from us.

Despite the car alarms, we are growing to enjoy our neighborhood--we are just four blocks from the lovely river walk and ten minutes to the center of town. We have menioned before that people do not make eye contact on the street, not with each other and not with "estranjeros"—the best you get is a vendor sitting outside his store saying “adelante”  (urging you to enter). So, we have not engaged anyone living near us, but have read that that comes with time.  We asked an old man directions the other day and he immediately became very friendly trying out his broken English with us, laughing and hugging us as we parted.  It has been one of our most enjoyable exchanges with a local Cuencano.

We open our front door each day to a wall of graffiti—it is growing on us, though the character seemed a little threatening at first.  Just a cartoon!  Walking the cobbled streets and vying with racing cars to cross them is the challenge.  We just read in a guide book that vehicles have the right of way over pedestrians.   If a car blinks its lights or honks as you start to cross, our teacher said it means..."get your you-know-what out of the way, I'm not slowing for you."

Mural/grafitti through bars on front door

Mural without the bars.

Walking around would be more fun if people looked at you, but eh, what can you do?  By taking our language classes, we are communicating with others and feeling more engaged.  We even went to dinner with a couple we met (from Arlington), so are making a few contacts.  Life in Cuenca rolls on, particularly loudly in our neighborhood—an adventure for sure.

This weekend along with a couple of American women we met at language school, Gladys and Karen, we took our first short trip out of Cuenca to visit a smaller city called Gualaceo—about 30 miles and a 45 minute, 60 cents bus ride.  The town according to the guide book has an artisanal market, but we unfortunately never found it but we still had a great time. We located the food market and had fun looking around and trying some of the local culinary offerings—although we declined the spit roasted Guinea Pig (el cuye).  We all particularly liked the roast pork and french fries. 

Roast pork right off the hog.

Spit roasted Guinea Pig--an Ecuadorean delicacy

 Perhaps the highlight of the visit, however, was a wonderful tour of an orchid research center, Ecuagenera, just outside of the town.

Larry with Ecuagenera tourguide, Manuel

 Ecuador is home to more varieties of orchids than any other place in the world.  We didn’t see all 4000 of those different varieties on our hour long guided tour, but we did see an incredible array of all kinds, sizes and shapes.  

Manuel demonstrating why this is called the Monkey Face Orchid

There were so many beautiful orchids, it was hard to choose our favorites to share with you.

 Ecuagenera grows and ships orchids throughout the world, including the States, Europe and Asia. Our guide, Manuel, was very knowledgeable, patient with our Spanish or lack thereof, and answered all of our questions with a smile and an encyclopedic knowledge of orchids and their cultivation.  Even though we will be here but another month, we bought an orchid to bring back to the apartment.

Our new orchid in our garden.

Cuenca Week Two

Starting our second week in Cuenca, we have settled in and gotten more adjusted.  We have worked hard to make our little apartment more comfortable and to improve the look and ambience of our little back patio. 

Garden area before weeding

Larry enjoying the revitalized garden.

Laundry area before.

Laundry area after with Ecuadorean textiles.

Our new and improved flower garden.

Larry has finished one week of language school.  His teacher is a nice young Ecuadorian woman named Lucie. She is very patient—only after the second or third time making the same mistake does she gently correct.

Lucia, Larry's teacher at Escuela Simon Bolivar.

His school is in a renovated old Cuenca townhouse, with four floors and a large central courtyard that is now roofed over to provide protection from the weather—and this past week we have needed that.  We thought that the Ecuadorian rainy season would be over, but it rains most days, often with violent thunderstorms.  Believe it or not, even here at the equator, a rainy day can be damp and cold.

Sue has decided to enroll in a less intensive course that will consist of 10 hours next week.  We will both be going in the afternoon, so we will have our mornings together and be inside if the pattern of thunderstorms or rain in the afternoons continues.

We are getting to know the city better.  Yesterday we walked down our street to the river—about a 10-15 minute walk and had lunch in a nice little sandwich shop that fronts on the river and the lovely pedestrian path the city has built along the river.  Even though it was Saturday afternoon, there were few people on the path and along the river, so we had much of the way to ourselves.

Riverwalk along the Rio Tomebamba

Tomembamba Riverwalk is 5 blocks from the central plaza

We also discovered the “Multicines” or multiplex movie theater.  We bought tickets for “Skyfall” for the evening.  Our tickets were about $4 each—cheap by American standards but pricey for many Ecuadorians.  Skyfall was offered in two theaters—one in English with Spanish subtitles and the other dubbed in Spanish.  We decided to go for the English, but given the limited dialog in a Bond movie, we might have been able to understand the Spanish version.  We recommend the movie; really enjoyed it.

Basically our lives have fallen into a routine of food shopping, school, wandering and finding a nice lunch or ice cream place, and keeping up the apartment.  Pretty banal.  We are hoping to do some exploring outside of Cuenca by bus, plane or auto—just need to do some research and make some decisions.  Right now we are concentrating on language skills and trying to figure out Cuenca’s vibe and are happy to have a restful, slow paced existence.

We had pizza at what was advertised as “gringo happy hour” at a small restaurant on Friday.  A couple people came to our table to greet us.  Everyone was our age or older, very “hippy” looking and seemed to know one another.  One man told us retirees come to Cuenca, some stay, some buy property, some miss the U.S. too much and return.  It is a lot cheaper to live here—he lives on about $600 a month in an efficiency.  Our apartment is one bedroom and costs $600 a month.  And, yes, it is cheaper to live here, but you have to embrace the culture and really want to live the ex-pat life.  We are thinking that doesn’t define us, but we are enjoying experiencing the culture for a short period.  One thing for sure, on an extremely limited budget, you can relocate here and live very nicely.

Ecuador--First Impressions

With a heavy heart we said goodbye to Erin on Wednesday morning, October 31st.  Her faithful "Mexican Dad", Rosalio, drove us to the airport and we were sad to say goodbye to him as well.  We had had a wonderful time in Mexico and had become very fond of Erin's friends and adopted "family".

We had done quite a bit packing the night before, but spent much of Wednesday morning packing, repacking, and weighing as we knew from the airline's internet site that there were weight restrictions for our bags on the flight to Ecuador.  When we arrived at the airline's check-in desk, the employees were extremely nice, gladly accepted our bags for the flight, and the weight didn’t seem to be a concern to them—so much for extensive suitcase balancing.  The flights to Bogota and then on to Quito were pleasant and blessedly uneventful. Having left Erin’s apartment at noon,  we arrived at our Quito hotel at 11:30 pm--it was a very long and tiring day.

LAN Airline made traveling on Halloween more fun.

 We spent only one night in Quito, since November 2 is Independence Day in Ecuador and we were told that everything would be closed, including our realtor's office.  We had only a few morning hours in Quito November 1st, before flying on to Cuenca, but the small area we saw around our hotel was lovely. 

Flying in it was clear that Cuenca is much bigger than we had envisioned, and our first few days of exploration have certainly confirmed that.  Cuenca is indeed a major city, the third largest in Ecuador, and even though we have confined much of our exploration to the historic center, it is a busy and bustling environment and quite different from the ambience that you find in places such as San Miguel de Allende, Mexico or Antigua, Guatemala.  And it has taken us a few days to adjust and get our bearings.

Parque Caldron, Cuenca

 Cuenca hosted a citywide Independence fiesta and celebration November 2-4, and there seemed to be bands, performing groups and artisan markets in every park and square.  There were throngs of people walking everywhere throughout the historic center, and wherever there were performances and exhibitions, the crowds were even denser.  We were a bit shocked to find Cuenca so intense.

We also were a little disappointed in our apartment and its location, at least at first, but the realtor has been very nice about fixing things and buying some items like a coffee pot and plastic patio furniture, so it is growing on us.  We are doing little things to make it more homey, like bringing out the photos and knickknacks that we carried from home, getting fresh flowers and planning to weed and perk up the small garden in our outdoor patio (which, by the way, contains an old cement sink and washer and dryer under a tin roof held in place with huge rocks).

View from our Quito hotel--quite a contrast with our neighborhood in Cuenca.

Entrance to our apartment--the balcony belongs to the apartment upstairs--we share the graffiti.

 The apartment is on the edge of the historic district, yet not in one of the more picturesque parts of that district—we are surrounded by auto parts shops, car seat upholsterers as well as other hardware type tiendas. We are serenaded about every hour or so with a car alarm going off. With the graffiti on the walls, including our building, and bars on every window and door, it feels a little ghetto like.  We don’t feel insecure, although the young woman from the realtor’s office told us not to go out after dark.

We have done a lot of walking since we arrived here and are feeling a little bit more at home.  We found the central market on our third day, so we now have a stock of fresh fruits and vegetables. On the first day we visited what we thought was a supermarket, but it seemed not to have many things that we would expect to find in one, including meats and fresh vegetables and fruits.  The answer is that here in Cuenca, most supermarkets don’t carry or compete with the items that you find in the central market. 

It will take us some time and effort to understand the workings of the market. A large, covered but otherwise open building, part of it is devoted to fruits and some vegetables and the other to meat, poultry and fish.  There is not a lot of refrigeration, so there are lots of chickens and slabs of meat out in the open—not something that we Americans are used to.  We were not brave enough to buy a chicken that had been sitting out in the open for we didn’t know how long, but we did buy some fish and shrimp that looked really fresh.
 
We were also mystified by why the fruit and vegetable vendors didn’t have a larger variety of vegetables, but we have discovered that outside of the market on the streets surrounding it, there are lots of vendors who have a larger variety of vegetables, like celery, broccoli, cauliflower, and beets.  Clearly understanding the reasoning for these separations will take us a bit longer.  Searching for butter was also a challenge—most people seem to content themselves with margarine or lard—but we did finally find a store that sold “mantequilla de leche” in a large one pound ball in a baggie.

Fruit & vegetable part of the market

On Sunday, much of the freneticism connected with the festival seemed to have died down.  The streets were much quieter and the central square clearly had a lot fewer families and visitors. After spending a leisurely morning in our apartment, we wandered out for a late lunch and then decided to take the city bus tour.  What fun! It took us all around the city, including the outer “suburbs.” As we have indicated, Cuenca is so much bigger than we had envisioned—there has been a lot of growth and development in the last decade or so, and we saw that very clearly on the tour.

Cuenca, a small village of only 500,000 people.

 One of the nicest parts of the tour was getting to meet a lovely Ecuadoran family—Santiago and Sylvia and their two daughters, Isabela and Valentina.  They were delightfully friendly and welcoming, and although we began our conversation with them in Spanish we ended up talking, at least with the parents, in English.

Mexico: Last Reflections

After a month in Mexico, we have certainly become experts on Mexico, Mexicans and Mexican culture, so you can take everything in this blog as gospel and completely valid. LOL !

We came to Mexico with some trepidation—not really believing the stories on TV and the newspapers, but still wondering how safe it really is.  If our experience is any reflection, the tourist areas that we have visited are extremely safe and visitor friendly. Throughout our travels, we have been struck by how few outside tourists and travelers we have run across—the vast majority of tourists we have seen, even in well-known places like San Miguel de Allende, have been Mexicans and this has been true in Oaxaca, Puerto Escondido, and especially in Mexico City.

Mexico City—what do you say about a metropolis of 28 million people.  It is crowded and polluted—you cannot get over that.  But it is also incredibly interesting and exciting.  There are so many cultural and tourist attractions, spread throughout the city, that it is almost impossible to choose which ones to do amongst the many offerings.  We have simply scratched the surface and would need at least another month to make even a dent.

A hidden courtyard in San Miguel de Allende.

 Getting from one attraction to another is often a problem.  Our first experience with the TuriBus (we waited an hour only to be told it would be better to come back tomorrow) is really emblematic of the difficulties of getting around town. Coming back the next day, we got on, but because of the snarl of Friday traffic an incredibly long slog of more than four hours inching through streets around town clearly tested our resolve and patience.

Art from the Aztec era (1400)

Since then, we have discovered Mexico City´s excellent subway system, Metro.  For three pesos—less than $.25 one can go throughout the city, in a relatively short period of time. Erin’s friends tease her because she doesn’t like using the Metro, but we think it is a boon to the average tourist—as long as you use it outside of rush hour.  Without the subway, Mexico City would clearly be in gridlock. 

Mexicans, like Americans, love their cars. Sometimes the beauty of Mexico City’s lovely neighborhoods like Polanco and Xochimilco or even colonial towns like Oaxaca and San Miguel de Allende are obscured by the noise, dirt  and pollution generated by traffic.  We’ve seen few accidents, but a taxi ride across town is always an adventure with your heart in your throat.  On the other hand, if you can relax and accept that your driver is adept at what he does, weaving in and out of Mexico City traffic with skills almost balletic in nature, you can enjoy the ride.  The Mexican government is working very hard trying to deal with the traffic though.  They are building more mass transit alternatives like metrobuses and light rail; and they are introducing new toll roads and forcing drivers to not use their vehicles one or two days a week.

One regret; we won't be here for Dead of the Dead, a great Mexican holiday for all.  Candies made in preparation above.

We are continuously struck by how hardworking Mexicans are.  The wages for many working class Mexicans are still very, very low—especially by American standards.  Waiters have told us that they make 1800 peso a month—less than $150.  Hotel workers are paid perhaps twice that. Although things are cheaper here, we do find ourselves wondering how we might live on $150-$300 a month.  Many of the waiters and hotels clerks we have gotten to know also tell us that they work at least two jobs, six and sometimes seven days a week.  Underemployment is another problem.  It is hard to imagine the number of street vendors you run across on a daily basis—sitting in a park, at an outdoor café or even on a subway car, you will be accosted by a steady stream of vendors, with every imaginable type of trinket, gewgaw, or artisan craft.

But Mexico is not just a country of the poor and working class.  The middle class and the well-to-do are very evident as well. The cafes and shops of Polanco are full of prosperous, well-dressed men and women.  One thing we have noticed when we are dining in a restaurant or having a drink at a bar or coffee shop—Mexicans like to talk and are much more animated and lively than Americans. Erin tells us that she thinks Mexicans are the nicest people in the world—and we have certainly run across many kind and generous folks—but they are not ebullient and overly solicitous.  It is very important to greet people with a Buenos Dias or Tardes—but passing people on the street, few will give you a smile.

One of the extraordinary Diego Murals at the Palacio Nacional

 Our favorite things about Mexico—certainly being able to spend time with Erin and meeting her friends and colleagues.  A note about your tax dollars at work--the young men and women working with Erin at our U.S. Embassy are fantastic !  We all can be VERY proud.  They are very bright, dedicated, kind, open and lots of fun.  We have been so happy to have spent time with them.

Other favorites--  Our Sunday afternoon in Xochimilco.  The colonial city of San Miguel de Allende—just walking around the town or sitting in the central square people watching. The fishing boats of Puerto Escondido. The art and love of country of Frido Kahlo and Diego Rivera.  The history, art and culture of the ancient civilizations like the Aztec, the Mayans, and the Zapotecs. There is so much that we have not been able to see.  There is so much history that is new to us, but we are anxious to know. We certainly hope to return someday for perhaps a longer stay.

And for those of you have missed the Charlie updates--here's the latest--our budding DJ.

 

Puerto Escondido

From Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido is just a short 30-minute small plane ride, but the two cities are very different. Not too long ago, PE was a small fishing village, and the Bahia Principal (Main Bay) still shelters more than 50 fishing boats.  Sitting on the  terrace of our favorite beachside restaurant (La Costa Hermosa), we continuously watched fishing boats come in laden with their catches.   

View Bahia Principal from La Costa Hermosa with fishing boats.

 Each time a boat comes in, it is met by restauranteurs and other locals who take the catch & load it in large plastic tubs. Some are loaded on waiting vans and whisked away, but others are simply carried a little ways inshore where they are cleaned, prepared for cooking and served on the spot.

Puerto Escondido is truly a tropical wonder--beautiful sunsets guaranteed.

La Costa Hermosa is a very simple little beachside open-air restaurant with plywood floors and a thatch covered roofed terrace.  We stumbled upon it, almost by chance, our first night in town, and we spent almost every afternoon and some evenings there drinking delicious frozen margaritas and enjoying fresh seafood.  Although their grilled giant shrimp were delicious, we have truly never tasted anything as wonderful as the fresh grilled red snapper. 

Enjoying Margaritas & seafood at La Costa Hermosa

 Our hotel was comfortable, if slightly careworn, and just out of town on a ridge overlooking the  Pacific Ocean.  The best thing about it was a wonderful, crystal blue swimming pool that we had to ourselves much of our time there.  It seemed really decadent to be able to take a refreshing swim the first thing upon getting up and the last thing before turning in.

Erin was able to join us for the weekend and she enjoyed the pool as much as we did. On her second day there, we met a young man who worked at the hotel and also at the Bahia Principal. He suggested we take a boat ride the next day and he and his boat captain friend took us for a leisurely ride along the coast. They always try to catch a sea turtle and drag it aboard, so turistas get to touch one of these ancient creatures--ours was an adolescent at about 35 years old, they surmised.  We felt sorry for the little guy, but this is the custom, so we went along with the plan so as not to spoil our hosts' planned thrill for us.

The turtle obviously enjoyed the visit less than we did.

One of the nicest things to happen to us during our stay in Puerto was getting to know a young Australian couple, Kris and Shannon, who were on our plane flight from Oaxaca to PE. We got to talking about traveling as we waited for the flight to leave, for our luggage after we landed, and then as we shared a taxi into town. We regretted parting without making any firm plans about meeting except for laughingly saying see you on the beach.   

Sure enough, on our first afternoon lolling on the Costa Hermosa terrace, we looked out on the shore and saw them walking by.  We hailed them and beckoned them to join us on the terrace for what turned out to be a three-hour gabfest.  They are now in their 10^th month of an epic year and a half world tour.  Having been in Southeast Asia, Canada and the United States, they are now in Mexico and are headed later this year to South America. 

We loved getting to know them, vicariously enjoying their travel sagas & sharing ours, although their stories certainly were more harrowing and adventuresome than ours. When Erin came the next day, it was fun to introduce them and they delighted in hearing her travel stories and comparing notes about Southeast Asia. (They have piqued our interest in SE Asia & especially Bali.) On our third evening in PE, we reluctantly said goodbye to them, exchanging emails and promising to keep in touch.   

The next morning as the three of us were enjoying the pool, we were told that we had a phone call.  Going to the phone in the bar, thinking who in the world could this be and how did they know how to find us, Larry was surprised to hear Shannon on the other end of the line, especially as we thought that they had left town. 

He was so excited and said that he had just asked Kris to marry him and she had said yes. They had decided to stay another day as they wanted to share the news with us, whom they had come to think of almost like family.  Naturally we were thrilled—and invited them over to celebrate. We felt very special to share their happiness.  After a sunset drink at our pool, we all went to town to the "fancy hotel" where we met some of Erin's embassy friends who happened to be in PE (also lovely, bright, wonderful young people--more about them in our next blog) to continue celebrating the new couple.  This will surely remain as one of the most memorable moments on our journey--thanks so much, Kris and Shannon !

Sue, Erin, Shannon & Kris...new friends.

 

Oaxaca

This week we are in Oaxaca state—a few days in Oaxaca City in the mountains, followed by a few days in Puerto Escondido on the coast.  Time seems to slip by without our really thinking about it. We decided to forego the twelve-hour bus ride from Mexico City for a 45 minute flight on Interjet, a Mexican national carrier.  We were pleasantly surprised, because the plane was brand new and comfortable as was the terminal. The flight attendants, whose dress and professionalism reminded us of the Pan Am stewardesses of the 50’s & 60’s, were beautiful and efficient.

Oaxaca city is the capital of the state of Oaxaca; located about 250 miles south of MC.  Not nearly as large as Mexico City, but growing and developing, it too has a long history.   Olmecs, Zapotecs, and Mixtecs have called the area home for more than 3000 years.  When the Spanish arrived early in the 16^th century, they found a delightful place to build a city as well.  Driving from the airport into town, you see a lot of modern development and plenty of auto traffic, but once you are in the historic center of town, it is not too hard to imagine what life must have been like hundreds of years ago.

Our hotel, Casa Antigua, is a remodeled and renovated colonial townhouse with the rooms on the first and second floor opening up to a large, now covered, but previously open courtyard.  It was a comfortable and reasonably quiet place to stay, especially after we discovered the delightful rooftop terrace, where each evening we watched the sun set over the western mountains, while enjoying a Paloma (tequila and Squirt—if you can believe it) and snacks.

There’s much to do in the city—although it is very nice just ambling along the old streets and admiring the parks and architecture.  We were particularly taken with Oaxaca’s beautiful central plaza that is lined with outdoor restaurants and full of “boleros” (shoeshine stands).

One day was almost completely devoted to the church and former convent of Santo Domingo.  The church facade is a not too imposing, actually rather drab on the exterior, but takes your breath away when you enter it.   

The entire interior is gilded.  During the Mexican Revolution in the early 20^th century, much of the original gold leaf was removed by occupying forces (not to mention that they used the side chapels as stables for their horses), but in the last 20 or 30 years the church has been renovated and restored. We were lucky enough to stumble upon a tour provided by a very nice Mexican man, who obviously loved the church and his work, and gave one of the clearest and most informative tours we have ever taken. What a joy!

The former convent has been turned into a Oaxacan cultural museum. In more than three hours, broken up by a leisurely lunch break, we were not able to cover it all, but it is full of treasures and extraordinarily informative exhibits.  (Our hat is off to the Mexican museum designers—we have seen so many good ones!) As you walk through the building, many of the halls look out onto a beautiful cactus and other desert plant filled garden or onto vistas of the distant mountains. Again it was a delightful time—and one that we did not have to share with very many others. 

Time and time again we ask ourselves and our hosts, “where are the other tourists?” Often we are told that this is not the tourist season, come back this weekend or better yet in December or January.  We don’t mind; it’s rather nice to not be part of a crowd.  The fear of violence also must be keeping some people away as well, but we have certainly not experienced anything remotely frightening.

Sue's favorite exhibit features small figures (3500 years old); one depicting childbirth (look
closely for the tiny baby just born)

One of the most impressive (to a librarian at least) rooms in the museum is the Rare Books Room--containing books from the 16th & 17th centures as well as Pre-Hispanic Codices

 Our lunch consisted of a traditional Oaxaca tortilla, which is called a tladuya—cooked over an open grill, the taste and texture is nothing like what we North Americans think of as a tortilla. Our waiter at lunch was a young, 21 year old man, Victor Hugo, who had grown up in the states, illegally having been brought there at an early age by his parents.  Problems, including alcoholism, finally led to his deportation. 

Now he is in Oaxaca, staying with his grandmother and trying to relearn or improve his Spanish that is not as good as his English. Working as a waiter, he earns 1800 pesos a month—not quite $130, before tips. That’s the money story we hear from many in the service industry.  Many young men and women we talk with work two jobs and often work six and seven days a week. The social and economic divide is extraordinarily large here in Mexico; there are some very wealthy and prosperous Mexicans—but there are far more working class and poor.

Tuesday night interlude—we are still anxiously following the US elections, although as we mentioned we long since sent in our absentee ballots. Wanting to watch the debate—we first turned on the room TV for the first time, but the promised  CNN channel, didn’t really seem to be there.  Next, the Internet access in the room mysteriously conked out.  We retreated to the central courtyard where we were able to make the connection in time to watch the PBS webcast. About ten minutes into the debate, a young couple (American woman, Mexican man) came running into the courtyard—they had been to seven hotels and bars, but no one was watching the debates.  We were happy to invite them to scoot up close to our little laptop, and watch with us.  Fortunately, we were all pulling for the same team, and it was fun to share the moment.

On our third day in Oaxaca, we signed up for a van tour to the ancient ruins of Monte Alban.  To try to describe the “keystone kops” loading and unloading of packed vans to get there would be difficult.  We must have done it three times while driving all over the city picking people up/dropping people off before actually hitting the road.  It turned out to be only a 15 minute drive from the city—we could have caught a taxi !

Monte Alban is a huge complex, just outside of the Oaxaca city

 We arrived in much confusion and were directed to a short, chubby man with a big hat who was our English guide.  As Larry said, we could have done the tour in our pidgeon Spanish about as well—it was pretty funny.

Our guide talking about Monte Alban & the ceremonial acitivities there.

Monte Alban is impressive:  a rectangular mountain top area (apparently mountain top mining is not a new concept—the peak was leveled to provide rock for the structures), there are remnants of huge edifices with gigantic steps leading up each.  These have been reconstructed, because, as our guide said, “many rocks fall over time and steps disappear.” In the center, where archaeologists deem most of the ceremonies must have taken place, you can clap and the sound carries throughout the entire area--incredible acoustics.

A few huge slabs of rock have been preserved with outlines of original carvings, but to an untrained eye, the formations are difficult to decipher.  One of the most valuable archaeological finds in Mexico, Tomb 7, was found near Monte Alban and you can see some of the treasures unearthed in the cultural museum, Santo Domingo, which we mentioned above. (We have been told that the treasures from this tomb rival those extracted from King Tut!)

That evening, we spent our last sunset watch from the terrace of Casa Antigua, and, early the next morning, we caught a piper cub plane to fly to Puerto Escondido.