If it's Sunday, it must be Tlacolula

No matter how screwed up the politics are here, and where aren't they screwed up, they are a mere blip on the Oaxacan horizon.  There are way too many positives, places, people, events and food, glorious food, to dampen the the real spirit of the place.  With 10,000 years of history, if they are one thing, Oaxacans are resilient and determined.

And there is no better way experience all of the above than to go to the Sunday market in Tlacolula.  So back we went.  These are all hip shots, shot from the hip so as not to disturb the flow... and not to get the evil eye sent my way.  Holding a camera up and pointing directly at someone changes everything, but most of the time all you have to do is ask in a polite way and voila.... "I am ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille...."  But I love shooting blind from the hip.  I never know if my aim is even close, but with practice.... one gets better.

When one enters the market proper there is a phalanx of many women all selling tlayudas or tortillas.  It is quite crowded and you have to force yourself through, but the temptations are right in your face.

Speaking of faces...

I have been there so many times, I am starting to recognize people who are there selling their wares each week.  This abulea always has a special charm, an aura, around her.  We always talk to her about her beautiful traje, her outfit.

 I forget which village she comes from.... next time.

This is my seed man.  Last week he had an old peso piece, a large coin, about the size of a silver dollar.  He was flicking his wrist and bouncing it off the cement floor.  The thing rang like a bell.  He smiled and repeated it a few times. And he was the center of attention for a brief moment and it was a wonderful moment at that.