Wednesday, September 29, 2010

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.

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