La Danza de las Plumas - Teotitlan del Valle

Yesterday, we were invited out to visit good friends in Teotitlan del Valle, the Zapotec weaving village. I shot over 350 photos and a good chunk of video, so it will take some time to filter through to find the nuggets. I am always very happy if I get 10%, so that means maybe 30 or so, which would make a heck of a post, so I guess I will do it as a series.We started at the home of master weaver, Zacharias Ruiz and his sons, Antonio and Betto. Here's Antonio and his daughter.His mother, Zach's wife, Emelia, is one of the best cooks I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Hands down, her molé negro is the finest I have ever had. Yesterday, she made what seemed like hundreds of tamales filled with molé amarillo y pavo(turkey). They proudly said that the corn came from their land the the turkeys from the backyard. They were delicious. I ate maybe, ten, but Zacharias put away at least twenty.So after a few beers, some mescal, homemade tortillas (nothing like 'em) salsa and tamales, we were off to the church to watch la danza de las plumas, sometimes called the dance of the conquistadors. I was with Henry Wangeman of Amate Books and he showed me the way to get up into the bell tower overlooking the whole village, a spectacular place from which to shoot. Henry split, but I stayed up there and eventually someone came up to kick me out, but after talking to him, he said, "You're OK, you can stay, but hide yourself and don't let anyone else up here."The danza de las plumas has been danced in this village for over 500 years and probably existed in some other form for years before. This place has almost 2000 years of history.More about it in the next post, but here are a few shots. The dance began at about five in the afternoon with the band playing under a huge tree.Here is one of the principles, a real cutie and a great dancer.It was an exhausting and exhilarating day.

Deben dejarlo descansar

While eating chiles rellenos and costillas (fried ribs) in El Biche Pobre, the TV was on with the Michael Jackson memorial. I had my back to the tube, by choice, and the waiter came up and said the most intelligent thing I've heard about the whole 24/7 MJfest. "Deben dejarlo descansar," "They should just let him rest."

Tlacolula

Sunday is market day in Tlacolula, a town to the east of Oaxaca just past the Zapotec weaving of Teotitlan del Vaille. It is one of the oldest markets not only in Mexico, but in the Americas. The area has been settled for over 2000 years and one sees remnants of that long history in the language, clothing and products offered for sale. The market stretches for several blocks and surrounds the church, la capilla de Santo Cristo, a church started in the early 16th century. We went for a late lunch and had a wonderful hunk of barbacoa de borrega (lamb) and several bowls of a rich, red caldo or consommé, which was filled with bits of meat and other parts. Of course, there were fresh blandas (tortillas) salsas, condiments, mescal. All were absolutely delicious.After eating, we wandered through the market, where one hears all sorts of languages from Spanish to Zapotec. People come from villages many miles away to shop or sell, so the scope of clothing as wide as the things for sale. Would you buy a matate from this woman? Claro, si! $1200 MP or $100 US, but they will last a lifetime. Make that lifetimes. Some women wear rebozos with floral prints, their hair bound up with ribbons. Others wear the classic black or gray rebozos.

These cauliflowers were huge, as big as my head.I was using my little Canon camera and had somehow set it for "snow" so all the photos were half of success - they sucked. It was a live and learn moment. I plan to go back next Sunday just to reshoot this beautiful setting and will probably will take my trusty Nikon. It is big, but I am more comfortable with it. No guarantees that I won't screw up in a different way, but, of course, the truth is in just being there, not in the shooting.

In political news, yesterday was election day and the PRI once again emerged after the PAN's past victories. Low voter turnout says people are as sick of politics here as they are in El Norte. I am not sure this is change we can believe in. Who knows maybe the newly elected officials will declare victory and immediately resign ala Senora Palin. I am so confused... I vaguely remember being told that quitters never win and winners never quit. I must have had it backwards. I quit. So I guess that means I win. Where do I pick up my Pulitzer?

Entrar

Go ahead. Entry is gratis.

Caminando - Walking

Oaxaca can be just so much fun to simply walk around. Certain days the place radiates happiness. Yesterday, the Fourth of July, was just such a day and it had nothing to do with El Norte's activities. No, it was a celebration of something different. The city was happily and proudly strutting its stuff.The faces of these kids and their mother, a guy soaking up the sun while the words on the side of the cathedral demand complete freedom for a political prisoner.The zocalo is still filled with protesters and vendors. This from the side of one of their tents.Construction continues on M. Bravo, but the work is going quickly. I bet it is done in time for the Guelaguetza in two weeks.Waiting for Godot under one of Oaxaca's most photographed senoritas.

Ceramics in Acatlan de Osorio

Yesterday, Henry Wangeman (of Amate Books - see the side list of Oaxaca's Best)) and I drove up through the mixteca alta into the state of Puebla to Acatlan de Osorios to check out the ceramics for which the place is so famous. Times have changed and they are not producing the quanity and quality that they did in years past, but it was still a worthwhile visit and a beautiful drive. I loved these drainage gargoyles. And these classic ollas.I had not been there before, but Henry has been going there for years and he was his normal font of information and unbridled enthusiasm. Here he is with Sr. Lopez, the owner of the place we visited.
On the way back we were overwhelmed with the wonderful fragrance of onions from this truck (sorry, it's blurry, but we were flying by) and then spotted this beauty filled with corn headed to market in Oaxaca.What dramatic and beautiful country, lush and verdant.

Aguas!

"Aguas! Aguas! Look out!"

With the rains come landslides and rocks crashing down the mountains onto roads filled with hairpin turns. Yesterday, on our drive back from visiting Acatlan de Osorio in Puebla, we came to a screeching halt for this one. Cars were backed up on both sides and people jumped out to clear the road. No one was going anywhere fast and we quickly realized it was up to us to do the job. There was no waiting for heavy machinery to show up, it could take days. So as folks posted lookouts for additional falling rocks, we all pitched in to take care of business. Henry and I did our part. The two of us could have moved it by ourselves, but we didn't want to spoil the fun.

Every few minutes someone would yell, "Aguas, aguas!" and we would all jump out of the way as more rocks came tumbling down. It was hairy and scary, but everyone was still having fun. So I learned that "aguas" means "watch out" as opposed to "cuidado" meaning "be careful." We speculated that maybe it had something to do with chamber pots being dumped from balconies, but who knows? Actually, Henry says that it comes from people throwing water out onto the streets after cleaning their homes.
Eventually, we moved it with the help of the guy on the far right's truck. He was a stone worker and had a good idea of what he was doing. The guy on the far left was the normal self-important jerk who had just cut in front of tens of cars. Everyone yelled at him, "If you are going be like that, you have to at least get your hands dirty." He didn't.

Incidentally, no one was hurt.

Que Milagro!

Wednesday is market day in Etla which is just to the north of San Agustin Etla. I was so happy to go there and see these two women that I bought food from all the time last year. They both greeted me with handshakes, smiles and "Que milagro!" "What a miracle!" Their tamales and chiles rellenos are sublime. Eat your heart out 'cause these are dinner for Henry and me.
Shopping for fruits and vegetables is so much fun here. You can see why.

Ahhhhhhhhh......

My flight in was nowhere nears a dramatic as the one last year, when I went to meet a friend at the airport and watched her plane land between storms on either side of the valley and underneath one of the most vivid rainbows I have ever seen. Still, aside from being in a middle seat on the longest leg of the flight, the tail end from Mexico City to Oaxaca was pretty spectacular with towering clouds and glimpses of lush green landscapes. I got video of it on my new flip camera, but have not seen it yet.

There is such a difference between rainy and dry seasons. In April, after six months of no rain, it is brown, brown, brown. When the rains come in May, the land questions it, asking if it is just teasing, but then the skies open up and the countryside is transformed. My first night here we had a wonderful long soaking rain. The same last night.

Interesting to see the changes that have occurs during my absence. Lots of construction projects are done and many more in progress.This is Calle N. Bravo and M. Alcala. These workers were just cranking. I am always struck by the power of sheer gut work, the heavy lifting of stones, the wheelbarrows of cement, the five-gallon buckets of wet sand, all done by hand. That's how they built Monte Alban.
Restoration of the south wall of the interior of Santo Domingo is proceeding.APPO and the teachers are still ensconced in the zocalo. They still have problems. I can't see how the businesses are surviving down there. Actually, lots of places are really hurting and probably will not make it. It will be interesting to see if tourists show up for the Guelaguetza later this month bringing an influx of much needed money.

As always, the graffiti is amazing.And comes from many sources. Malcolm lives!
More later... but it feels great to be back.The day ended with this sight from the house in San Agustin Etla.