Yanhuitlan - progress report

One of the games we enjoy playing is the, "Where would you put this on your top 50 things to see or do in Oaxaca," game. Things shift around depending on where we are and what we are doing. When we are eating in the "Comedor Colon" in Etla, it always moves up into the top five. There are so many great choices for the list. Where do you put El Tule? or Monte Alban? Teotitlan? the church in Ocotlan? Santo Domingo, the mercado Merced? or market day in Tlacolula?

Clearly, Zapotitlan and the cactus forests are right up there, but for me, I keep returning to Yanhuitlan, which has a special hold on me. I think it is because, not only is it a spectacular site, but the story behind it contains so many lessons.
The short version - in pre-columbian times, the Mixtecs lived there in the hundreds of thousands. It is very rugged land and the Mixtec were and are a tough people. When the Spanish showed up in the XVI century, they divided Mexico between the Dominicans, the Franciscans and the Augustinians. The Dominicans got Oaxaca and Yanhuitlan. They had grand plans to convert the Mixtecs and designed a huge church and village complex complete with aqueduct that stretched for several kilometers. Unfortunately, after starting construction in the early 1520's, within fifty years, disease had wiped out the population with a 95% kill rate. Yanhutlan became a ghost town, but the church remained and construction continued. Over the years, there were revolutions and purges, but the church remained and construction/restoration continued and continues today.
Today, there are 780 people that live in the village.

When we were there last week, there were well over a hundred people working on the site. There are ten in this shot and this was the small stone-working area. Some people were grooming the grounds, some were cleaning steps and floors, but the vast majority were doing serious stonework on the exterior. This piece will go on the roof. The groove on the bottom will face up and act as a channel for water. This worker is opening up a long-sealed window in the lower front of the monastery. In the interior, the delicate work of restoring the paintings and retablos continues. The progress has been amazing, but it is a huge undertaking. The place is so huge. I outlined a person in this photo to show the scope and scale of the work.The retablos look small, but they are probably ten meters tall.The completed organ restoration. I don't know if it plays, but it sure looks beautiful.Gilded plaster pieces waiting to be installed.Praying for an on-schedule July completion.Incidentally, the spots on her face are tears of pearl or silver.
A sublimely graceful supporting arch.The entryway ceiling. Look at the exquisite detailed woodwork.The doorway leading from the church into the abutting monastery, You can see that the walls were all probably previously decorated with painting.I plan on returning every month or so to take in the progress. The place never fails to blow my mind. Top ten? Claro que si!

Markets

Saturday is market day in the city and the Abastos, which is always bustling, gritty and diverse, is always an adventure. The market may be about ten square blocks, but who knows because there are no blocks, just a sea of stalls and vendors. On Saturdays the perimeter expands to make it even more fun and daunting to shop. I went in in search of cacti. I parked a few blocks north of the market and walked around for a couple of hours, but never found what I was looking for although I did pick up a couple of nice plumeria or frangiapani plants with good roots and lots of leaves. I know the market fairly well and can normally find what I am looking for, but this is the second time this week I could not find the cactus sellers. I will keep trying. I've gotta serious cactus thang since visiting Zapotitlan.I like the Abastos, but prefer the Etla market which is only minutes from the house. I can pretty much get whatever I need any day of the week and the quality and freshness is always so good. Shopping is simply fun there.Plus I don't get many smiles like this in the Abastos.

Kids!

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.

With all the craziness going on in the world, all the cold-hearted and negative feelings out there,
hey, stop for second, we can do better....

They deserve better than this. Let's get it together.

For children who do not speak

While in Zapotitlan, I heard a very loud cicada-like insect, only even louder and more piercing. Maurino said that locals used it for a special treatment for young children who were not healthy, not talking enough, almost mute. The buzzing or singing insect is caught and put in the child's mouth for five minutes, until the sound stops and then released. The child then begins to speak normally and the freed insect is now mute, unable to make a sound.

I guess it is sorta a cousin to one of my favorite sayings down here and one I seriously take to heart (finally). "En boca cerrada, no entran moscas." or "Flies don't go in a closed mouth." Yeah, best to keep those lips zipped.

As Mark Twain said, "It's better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and leave no doubt."

Return to Zapotitlan

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.

An editorial from The Arizona Republic

The Arizona Republic is a fairly right of center newspaper and that is putting mildly and here's what they had to say:

(full story)

A fundamental principle of law is that it should protect the innocent. Of all the damage made possible by Gov. Jan Brewer's signature on Friday to Senate Bill 1070, the worst is not the harm to the world's judgment of Arizona or to this law's economic consequences.

The worst effect is its grave potential for causing harm to innocent, taxpaying American citizens who no longer can feel certain of the law's blindness.

That is the terrible harm of it. SB 1070 lifts the blindfold of Lady Justice and commands her to see one different from the other, irrespective of innocence. Brewer's televised signing ceremony for this harsh, unnecessary legislation constitutes the low point of an administration we have come to admire for its often surprising grit in the face of hard times. We held out hope for more.

Whether Arizona pays a price for indulging the whims of state Sen. Russell Pearce, R-Mesa, is no longer the issue. We are paying a price. Not since the dismal days of our nationally infamous fight over a holiday to honor the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., has the profile of Arizona descended this low.

It isn't as though the potential consequences of this law are unapparent. We have been down this road before.

The terrible "Chandler Roundup" of 1997 still stands as a warning of what may lie ahead. Then, like now, local police officers demanded proof of citizenship of people they suspected might be in this country illegally. Scores of American citizens lacking "papers" were cuffed. An international outrage erupted. SB 1070 opens the door to the return of those brutal neighborhood-dividing days.

Also Friday, Brewer signed an executive order to establish law-enforcement training she hopes might mitigate the worst potential effect of SB 1070, racial profiling. A nice gesture, certainly. But a few hours of additional training is unlikely to alter the now-evolving relationship of local police to their citizenry, a relationship made infinitely more difficult and attenuated by the signing of SB 1070.

We are not blind to the political challenge facing Brewer. She is a Republican facing stiff competition in an approaching election, and not signing SB 1070 likely would have doomed her candidacy.

That is her political problem, however. Not Arizona's.

She is certainly correct on one count. The widespread popularity of this punishing legislation would be far weaker if Washington, D.C., would act seriously to do its duty regarding Arizona's southern border.

This is very bad law. And this is not the end of the fight against it.

Boycott Arizona

For all planning a trip to see the Grand Canyon, please consider the even bigger and better Copper Canyon. Take the train from west to east for the best views. Image from Mexico Tourism.

Graffiti continued

Graffiti is a part of this city. Yes, there is tagging, but there are real artists here. Books have been written about the work here. Lots of photographs taken - guilty as charged. People have become famous. Careers have been made.

And of course, there is a constant battle between graffiti and the desire for a clean, pristine and colorful wall or surface.Here are remnants of International Women's Day, painted over earlier graffiti and erasures as the struggle continues on several levels.Neither saint nor whore.
Ni dios, ni amo, ni maripo, ni partido... neither god, nor master, OK, help me here....

Anoche

Working on my clandestine nights shots. Both these gentlemen had more happening than may seem apparent, a strange energy. They seemed like they were waiting for something or someone. Or maybe they were just uptight about the gringo trying not to be obvious that he was taking their picture.

A matter of perspective

As in all things, it just depends on how you see it. I like how different details emerge or recede like the "?" or the hole, or the corrugated metal, even the sky.

Shot Of the Day