We went in search of the dishes we had heard about when we visited the cactus forests in Zapotitlan Salinas, Puebla earlier this year. They proved to be just the buds lightly roasted and were kinda like small okra, a little anti-climatic. The cactus, however, were spectacular.
My good friend, Henry Wangeman from Amate Books, was once again, my guide and companion.
After a four hour drive, we had stopped at Yanhuitlan to see the progress on the church, the first thing we did was get something to eat. The botana was some fresh tomato, cheese and cactus buds. The owner of the restaurant, who looked like a Latino Earnest Hemiway, sat and chewed the fat with us and told us about the village culture which seemed to center around cactus and salt production. The salt was very tasty, a natural bromide and was different from sea salt. He bought out a couple of kilos of this amazing salt which we bought in an instant for ten pesos a kilo. Then is was off to find cactus. We had engaged one of the guys, Maurino Reyes, from the botanical gardens to act as guide and to take us on a couple of walks, one in the late afternoon and one in the morning.
He knew his stuff and we proceeded down a wide dry riverbed and he pointed out many things about the environment. There was actually a little water in the bed even thought they only get a few centimeters of rain a year. We saw tiny fish along with rabbits, owls and the caves in which the bats that pollinate many of the cactus, lived.
Needless to say it is really rugged country, but the sky had an overcast haze which was lousy for photos, but easy on the temperatures.
Eventually we climbed out of the river bed and we found ourselves overlooking the salt producing ponds, which are really shallow cement rectangles.
There were close to fifty of them and there was salt ready to harvest.
Maurino would stop and point out various aspects about the plants, what their uses were. He would pick leaves and let us taste or smell them. "This one is good for the eyes. This for the stomach. This for nerves. For the teeth." It was fascinating and proved just how knowledgeable indigenous cultures are about plants and their uses.
One of the most amazing aspects of these plants is their age and speed of growth. There are cacti, smaller than a dime that are three years old.
A large visnaga can be four hundred. Same for the organum-style cactus.
They were in flower, but are very tall and taking photos from 20 or 30 feet below the crowns, well, it made shooting difficult.
The yucca were in flower, towering yellow spikes that stuck out across the vistas.
They were about six meters tall.
Yuccas are a huge family.
I have dense white flowers on a very short stalk on the ones back at the house.
As I said, we touched, smelled, tasted many plants. I have years of working with plants and am good at picking up vibes. I was off by myself when I saw this one.
I just stopped to see the bight white flowers and geranium-like leaves. However, there was something that said "do not touch" - maybe it was those deadly looking spikes on the leaves and stems. It turned out that this plant is known as "mujere mala" and causes rashes, blisters, fevers and general discomfort on a high order. However, Maurino said that it was used for scorpion bites, a natural antidote. It was also used for arthritis and rheumatism and that women in the village made a balm from it.
The soils up there can range from red to brown/black to yellow to orange to pure white. This bougainvillea really pops against an arid pale background.
After a hot night in one of the cabins at the botanical gardens, the air was cool, but the cabin was a heat sink, we ate a good breakfast in the village and headed west a short distance out into the desert. Once again, Maurino was a font of information and led us to one of the oldest and largest plants in the area, this 2500 year-old elephant foot tree.
These are the trees that absorb negative energy when you hug them. We were all over that.
This tree was almost ten meters in circumference with shallow roots but the ability to store much water in its fibrous sponger interior.
Both Henry and I put this trip on our top ten of things to do when visiting Oaxaca, right up there with Monte Alban and all the others.
I love watching the kids here. Maybe that how it is for everyone, everywhere, but somehow the children here seem extra special. Again, maybe that is how it is everywhere.
Here, however, many kids are entrusted with responsibilities at an early age, responsibilities that would be unimaginable in El Norte. Children are regularly put in charge of running a business or taking care of a brood of siblings. It is not unusual to see an eight year old child in charge of a group of five to ten kids and doing a good job. I regularly buy things at the markets or in villages from very young people who are running the family business and held accountable just like any other worker.
But they are still kids, having fun just being kids, making us all recall what it was like (like we can remember) and giving us hope or at least, making us hope that things will be better for them in the future.
The lives of the street kids in Oaxaca is a subject that is rich, sad, inspirational and poignant. I see them all the time. 
Some are vendors, some street musicians, some part of families who sell all the tourist goods for which Oaxaca is famous.
These two are probably Triquis, as they working on homework right next to the plaza between Alcala and Cinco de Mayo - yes, that is the sidewalk in front of the Camino Real Hotel.
Looks like a fun exercise to help with cursive writing. I could use it myself.
