Keeping our heads above water

So, for those of you who are savoring the mild Northwest fall weather or lapping up the hot California September sun, you’ll remember how we taunted you prior to our departure. Yes, the Northwest summer was short and cool this year, but we didn’t mind; we were going to be basking in 80-degree bronzed delight all fall down here in Oaxaca. Well, I’m afraid to report that we remain as white and wet as ever due to a virtual deluge of tropical storm after tropical storm this season. Instead of taking the “normal” form of quick afternoon downpours, followed by balmy eves and intense morning sun, we’ve been subjected to something that looks and feels a lot like Northwest weather—in other words, RAIN! Blame it on Tlaloc or Chaac (Aztec and Mayan rain gods), but we’re soaking.

Of course we can’t complain too much. The heavy rains this season have wreaked real havoc on much of southern of Mexico and already-drenched Guatemala, causing major mudslides, extensive material damage, injury, and death. Luckily, the widely-reported, “Oaxaca mudslide” that took place in the remote (for us) Mixe village of Santa Maria Tlahuitoltepec this week turned out to be not even a fraction as severe as Oaxaca’s governor originally reported to the press. While the damage was extensive and any death or injury is tragic and lamentable, the latest figures of only two houses (instead of 100) buried and 11 dead or missing, instead of the 500-1000 originally reported, have got many here shaking their heads. There is much frustration with what they see as a “boy who cried wolf” tactic, which was successful in bringing in a surge of media and federal support, but at the expense of places which might have had even more need for those resources.

Here in the Oaxaca Valley, we have just had to deal with localized areas of flooding that pale in comparison to the dramatic mudslide news elsewhere. Just last week, for example, formidable Tropical Storm Karl left 3,000 homes damaged here in the valley; the effects of the storm could be seen all over the city, where overflowing street drains and mud covered sidewalks left us with mud to trudge through, and then silty dust to inhale for another week. Certainly inconvenient, but hardly life-threatening.

Perhaps worst of all, the rain has meant not only a continuation but a marked increase in mosquito activity. So even though I escaped the first wave of mosquito bites upon our arrival, I’ve no longer been able to maintain my cocky attitude and have had to confront my own apparent succulence. Luckily I did bring along some of my NW rain gear and some good wool products, and Josh’s dad has restocked our repellent supply. Nonetheless, I can onl y bear to trot our rain gear in the case of severe downpour. After all, it’s bad enough to be a blondie with mosquito bites all down her legs, but being a Keen-wearing, Goretex-sporting rugged NW gringa really pigeon-holes you. So, we keep watching the calendar and waiting for that beautiful “fall” weather to arrive.

Of course, there have been some positive aspects to the rain as well. In our trips back and forth from Mexico City, the interceding countryside was absolutely electric green with its abundant flora and, paired with the blue sky (beyond Mexico City) and the billowing Sirius clouds, the views were breathtaking. This is a big improvement over the last few years when Oaxaca has suffered devastating droughts and hot fall temperatures. Nonetheless, I’m finding myself increasingly waterlogged. I mean, it was fine to give up red wine when the evenings were hot, but now that we’re experiencing this cool, wet weather, an ice cold beer just doesn’t do it. We’re keeping our fingers crossed that the end of September really does bring the end of the official (and unofficial) rainy season, finally giving way to those warm, dry fall days of 80 degrees, cold beers, and bronzed skin. At this rate, I’d even offer to sacrifice one of my daughters to Tlaloc to make it happen; however, after the work that the mosquitoes have done draining them of precious blood, I’m not sure they’d make a worthy offering.

!Que Viva Mexico!

So, you may have noticed the long lag between this and the last post and wondered whether we had slipped into a taco coma. Truth is, we just returned from a week in Mexico City where we traveled with the students to learn about Mexican history, meet with different civil society organizations and do a bit of touring. Mexico City is an exciting place, and there would be lots to report on just about any given trip. This trip, however, was exceptional because of its timing around this year's big bicentennial on September 15—the same date on which Mexico celebrated not only two hundred years of independence, but also 100 years since the revolution. Clearly an important day and, especially in the context of Mexico's current political turmoil, an ambivalent one.

To give you an idea, our trip to Mexico allowed us to witness first-hand the major festivities that the state had organized, including massive decorations in the Zocalo, major shows and event destinations around the city center, and a totally contradictory Independence Day parade that included military processions by all of Mexico's previous invaders, the U.S., France, and Spain. I did say ambivalent and contradictory, didn't I? While Mexico's president was giving the traditional “grito,” or independence day declaration, from the National Palace, the internationally-acclaimed Tigres del Norte were among several big performers appearing at the Angel stage in the downtown, Mexico's political spoiler, Lopez Obrador, was giving his own anti-grito at the site of the 1968 student massacre, and many other millions of Mexicans were either thronging in the streets in revelry or having friends over to their homes to drink and complain in private. Oh, and literally thousands and thousands of Mexican federal police and military were patrolling the streets in full riot gear, aided by all sorts of major armaments. Even after all of my years in Guatemala, I have to confess that the Mexican security establishment put up an impressive show of force--it was really quite a scene! Luckily, no terrorist activities spoiled the festivities.

Anyway, we enjoyed seeing the festivities and the unique forms of celebration among everyday citizens. There was clearly a huge surge of tourism by Mexican citizens in the capitol, and on the eve of independence, all of the upper class party-goers paraded nostalgic representations of their favorite Mexican folkloric figure. (Josh and I couldn't resist grabbing an honorary Zapata mustache to show our colors.) For example, it was more than a bit ironic to be served our set-plate dinner in a nice restaurant by a waiter clad in “peasant” attire (still freshly starched and bearing fold marks from its recent packaging), a pair of spanking new huarache sandals, a big Zapata mustache, and a hat adorned with colored ribbon meant to mimic indigenous traditions from Chiapas).

Nonetheless, we all loved Mexico City and enjoyed catching a glimpse of Diego Rivera murals in the Palacio de Bellas Artes, sampling such culinary delights as Lebanese food (a big Lebanese population in Mexico and Central America) and Chinese food (from the small “barrio Chino”), touring Teotihuacan, and strolling through the miles of vendors on the alameda. We took in some great coffee and ambiance at the famous La Habana Cafe, where Fidel and Che plotted, and later generations of Mexican journalists have been known to come get their small "commissions" from government officials (it pays to report the right news).

Josh and the girls did more wandering than I did, given my academic duties with the students, getting out to see the Zoo and, the girls' favorite, the mall (ugh). In the end, the girls declared their love for Mexico City and all of the cool urban stuff available there, asking whether we couldn't revise our four-month Oaxaca commitment to include more time in the city. I think their enamor was as much about the lack of school in the city as it was about the urban space itself, but was glad to see their cosmopolitan zeal. We'll definitely look forward to coming back; maybe at that point I can get them to finally accompany me to the Museum of Anthropology!

The Food-Lover's Dilemma

This week I find myself struggling with several dilemmas, all related to food. First, there is the most basic dilemma—how to be a functional, productive human being when all I really want to do is eat all day? Luckily, my Catholic upbringing helps me to transcend these gluttonous urges and practice some self- restraint (although apparently not enough to get my upcoming anthropology course syllabus finished).

A more complicated dilemma, then, is how to pace the eating in which I do indulge. As you may know, in Mexico meals are spaced and shaped differently to create a whole different eating rhythm throughout the day. The eating day starts early with coffee and maybe just a sweetbread or yogurt and granola. But how could that ever hold someone over until the normal 2:00 main meal of the day? Since it can't, there is a lovely 10:00 or 10:30 inter-meal (my term) that usually has none of the virtue of the early morning bite, but instead packs a punch. This is where you start to see tamales, chilaquiles, or empanadas or other starchy, fat-enriched, spicy fare. I frame this meal as a challenge because I have to confront it daily as I walk through the park from our house to my work.

“Ahh, the smell of freshly made tortillas, spread with a bit of refried black beans and cheese and chile, doubled over and then cooked fresh on an outdoor comal.”

If that sensorial cue didn't get you, try this one.

“Ahh, the smell of cinnamon wafting from the large pot of atol (a corn or other grain-based hot drink) plied alongside savory tamales by a vendor rolling his cart up and down the street.” To die for.

Actually, there's really nothing that sinful about this mid-morning extravaganza because, as I mentioned, your lunch is a big meal but it doesn't come until 2:00 or 2:30. Unfortunately for us, getting home in time to put together a big meal at that hour is nearly impossible. So, we end up having piddly little “lunch” stuff around this time as we all transition from morning work/school to afternoon work/homework. Efficient, yes, but wholly unsatisfying.

That is why at about 5:00, when we might usually begin dinner back in the States, I am wracked by this horrible urge to have a massive, indulgent Oaxacan feast at an hour when most Mexicans are just coming out of their mid-day food coma and returning to work. Due to our schedule, we usually end up postponing that dinner until a bit later, but all too often, it too is wholly unsatisfying. The small kitchen, my lack of spices and cooking implements, and the huge array of seductive food choices outside our window beckon nightly. Therefore, it's usually about this time of the evening that I have to log onto my bank account website to remind myself that we still have four months ahead of us! (Pacing, pacing.) To resolve this dilemma, we've settled for lackluster, very basic dinners most nights at home, but then splurge a few times a week. What's more, I invested in my own tortilla press and now make my own tortillas at home. Fresh tortillas, black beans, freshly-made salsa and cheese--okay, now that just might suffice. Even still, the gastronomic urge remains unsatiated, so we wander....

The other night, for example, we tried this unsuspecting place called Mexitla, which is touted as the place where “Mexico meets Italy.” We thought it would just be a cute little cafe built on a bad concept, but it turned out to be the roost of an aging couple from Napoli who knows nothing better than to seduce Americans with their freshly-made pasta, wood-oven fired pizzas, homemade mozzarella, stunning ricotta pear pie, and the coup de grace, a quick shot of homemade limoncello. Ahh. Sweet cosmopolitanism.

And then there's always the sirens of the park—the Friday habit that I've so often raved about--sizzling carnita tacos. Just to validate my ravings, I should note that you actually have to wait in line 20-30 minutes to sample these marvelous concoctions due to the many fans it draws. And this vendor's popularity doesn't stop at tacos. As you can see in the photos, they also do a swift business in tortas (a sandwich that usually includes a smear of beans, along with some kind of meat, cheese and veggies), the local favorite being the Hawaiian, which includes carnitas al pastor, grilled beef, ham, two kinds of cheese and a pineapple wedge. The Hawaiian is well beyond my capabilities, but some of the other simpler tortas do look devastating. The saving grace so far is that they don't serve these things with any beer, mezcal or other alcohol; otherwise, one might be inclined to make a whole Friday afternoon of them!

So, as you can see, food can be a challenge here, if nothing else for its scintillating qualities, abundance, and timing. But, then again, who am I to complain?

Monte Alban -- A Photographic Interlude

Since this blog speaks to multiple audiences, I'm dividing this week's post in two.

This first post is a photo interlude for the grandparents. It gives a glimpse of our picturesque visit to the nearby ruins of Monte Alban last weekend. (Every good travel blog has to include some tourist destination photos, right?) You'll notice immediately the splendor of these ruins and the quickly decreasing height advantage I have over the girls. Luckily, we got this trip in before the long week of heavy rains set in.

For those more gastronomically-inclined viewers, the next post is for you!