Chocolate and Civil Unrest in Oaxaca

It was sort of a last minute decision to head to Oaxaca after I had finished my time in Chiapas. I had considered heading to the Yucatan, but the word from other travelers who had just come from that way was that it was even hotter than Palenque. That was enough to convince me to skip it (for this trip). So I decided to head to Oaxaca, home of the mole (that's "mo-lay" like the sauce, not the blind, burrowing rodent). The bus ride from Palenque to Oaxaca was an 18 hour tour de force that included a 2 hour stopover in San Cristobal (which I wisely utilized to get some more shopping done in SCC's fantastic shops). I arrived in Oaxaca at around 8am, and after the long bus ride and long walk to my hostel, I rewarded myself with a shower, followed by a lazy stroll around the Zocalo and the surrounding streets. I was tempted to take a nap as I hadn't really slept on the bus, but nothing beats travel weariness like hitting the pavement and becoming absorbed in a newly found market. Luckily I managed to find quite a bustling market just south of the Zocalo. At this point, I still hadn't found the tourist office, so I was without a map which made my find even more fortuitous. Although it wasn't a large market, it was vibrant and alive, even on a Thursday morning. The first vendors to greet me as I stepped in were trying to get me to by some Chapulines. Ah, finally! I had heard so much about Oaxaca's delicacy: grasshoppers fried with chili, lime and salt. I declined to break my fast on roast grasshopper but vowed to return. I settled into a comfortable booth at a breakfast vendor and had a nice quesadilla made with local quesillo, Oaxaca's version of string cheese, and flor de calabasa (yes, really pumpkin flowers). I can't say it was that good, but it wasn't bad either. The pumpkin flowers didn't add much taste to the quesadilla, but that might have been because I used alot of salsa. I washed down my food with a drink called atole. And this wasn't just any atole, it was chocolate atole, and it was awesome! Atole is a traditional drink found in many parts of mexico. It is basically made by cooking corn meal, brown sugar, cinnamon, vanilla and sometimes chocolate. I've had it served thickly, almost like porridge, but in this case, it was pretty thin, and it's often served in a bowl. This became my morning ritual in Oaxaca: meander down to some street vendor and have a bowl (or three) of atole and a honking big quesadilla. (In the picture you can see the comales that they use to heat the tortillas and quesadillas, and on the table, the dark green ceramic vase is the container for the atole)


My first day trip in Oaxaca was to visit the Zapotec ruins of Monte Alban. From the perspective of the structures themselves, the ruins were not that impressive. It was the location of the ruins atop a large hill overlooking the valleys in Oaxaca that was the real highlight. Monte Alban was the capital of the Zapotec region which domintated the Oaxacan highlands, and was inhabited from approximately 400BC to 900AD. The site includes several pyramid like structures, an astronomical observatory and a ball court, which is a common feature to almost all pre-Columbian cities (although the exact nature of the game changes from culture to culture, it's interesting that the games between locations are more similar than they are different, an indication of how much interaction there was between all the cultures of Mesoamerica).


While I was in Oaxaca, other than visiting Monte Alban, I neglected most of my tourist duties and didn't see many of the sites that are listed in guidebooks. But I happily filled three full days with little more than urban hiking and exploring the city's impressive markets. The Mercado Abastos located just to the southwest of the city center must be the largest market I've ever seen. Supposedly, Saturday is the biggest day for the market, which was when I went. When I arrived, I found a cluster of vendors that had some items for sale that I was interested in. But I decided to wait since I didn't want to buy anything before I had really had a chance to look around. After about 2 hours of looking around, I decided to go back to those original vendors for my purchase. But it took me 2 more hours just to find them! That's how big the market is. It didn't help that they aisles between stalls are no more than 4 feet wide and packed with so many people that you can't see more thatn 30 feet in any one direction. What a dizzying array of leather goods, kitchen utensils, pirated music, unknown fruits of grotesque shape and shocking colors (including no less than 5 varieties of mango), shoes, meat, live animals... whatever you can imagine, it was there. I wish I had had the guts to take pictures, but I felt a little wierd about snapping photos there. The whole four hours I was there, I was one of only two gringos amid the thousands of vendors and patrons. I felt that if I took pictures it would be like I was making a spectacle of the people and I didn't want to show any disrespect. I'm sure most people would not have had a problem with it, but in those kind of situations I prefer to tread lightly.



So there is this one street south of the Zocalo, Avenida 20 de Noviembre, which has more than half a dozen chocolate shops where you can witness them make the chocolate right in front of you. In fact, they make it to order. You select how much vanilla, cinnamon, almonds, and sugar you want. Then they weigh out the ingredients and grind it into a silky, heavenly paste right in front of you. Wow. It really was like heaven. Of course there are tons of free samples. I've never had fresh chocolate before, and all I can say is... I think I skipped lunch that day, I had so many samples. Many of the people buying the chocolate will use it for use in the mole sauce, or for making atole. They also had packed chocolate of different varieties that is best used for hot chocolate. Don't worry, I am bringing plenty home. Almost 4 kilos worth! I wish I could have brought some of the fresh chocolate home, but I doubt it would get through customs.




My last day in Oaxaca I witnessed something that needs a little backstory. The most important tourism festival in Oaxaca every year is the Guelaguetza, which is a festival celebrating the folk dance and music of the region over a several day period. It's a big deal, and it's big money for the city. However, there have been complaints over the recent years that it's really only the rich people in Oaxaca that benefit from the festival, which isn't really true, but it is true that the tickets are expensive, about $40 US, which is prohibitively expensive for many working class Mexicans. Also, from what I've heard, none of the revenue from the festival goes to any of the indigenous communities around Oaxaca, from which these dances and music largely come. All this has led to a tense situation lately. Maybe you remember last year there were riots in Oaxaca when more than 100,000 school teachers went on strike and the government used police force to quell the demonstrations. Violence broke out and I think 5 people died. I'm not sure exactly how this is related to the protests over the Guelaguetza, but I think the organization APPO (La Asamblea Popular de los Pueblos de Oaxaca) had organized much of the protests last year, and APPO seemed to be behind the Guelaguetza protest this year, but it's hard for me to be sure. Anyway, the government sponsored Guelaguetza is scheduled to be performed this coming weekend. Not to be outdone, an alternative populist Guelaguetza was also organized by the activists and was peformed this past weekend, while I was in Oaxaca. I stumbled onto the Zocalo on Monday morning just as the opening dances were winding down. Shortly thereafter, all the musicians, dancers and spectators marched through the downtown and were headed for the Cerro del Fortin where there is an ampitheatre where the real production was going to be held. All in all, I would estimate that there were 10,000 people or more marching through the streets, music and political chants blaring. I decided it would be fun to tag along, so I joined the marching throng. When the march was close to the destination, they were forbidden passage through the final street by the police. This didn't bode well, but I hung around for a while anyway, because I wanted to see the dancing. I got bored after about 30 minutes of waiting around, and I could tell the crowd was getting restless. I later found out that it was in that exact location where trouble broke out. Three city buses were set on fire, and the police tear gassed the crowd. Although no one was killed from what I heard, it sounded like a scary situation. In a way, I wish I would have stayed. It would have made some great pictures. In that last picture you can see the procession all the way back to the Zocalo where the trees are in the distance. This was only about half of the people in the streets. It was an impressive site.


Before I left town, I couldn't resist the urge to purchase some textiles. I went to a shop called MARO (for Mujeres Artesanas de las Regiones de Oaxaca, which means Women Artisans of the Regions of Oaxaca). It is a cooperative store in which women from the surrounding villages can come and sell their artisan crafts directly to shoppers. This is a better system for them, because they can cut out the costs of the middleman. The prices won't be any cheaper for the consumer, in fact they might be a little more expensive because they are less willing to bargain at this store (as opposed to the street vendors and vendors in the markets, where haggling is fully expected). But the upside for the consumer is the knowledge all the money is going directly to the artesans themselves, and in my case, I got to meet the woman who actually wove the textiles I was admiring. I went into the store with steadfast determination to only buy a single small rug. Anyone who knows me though, knows how hard it is for me to make a decision, especially one that involves money. The short of it is, I walked out with two rugs, both larger than I originally wanted. I just couldn't pass them up, they were both so beautiful. It was really special to talk to the woman who made them, and she even gave me a nice little discount because I couldn't decide between the two. She even offered to show me how she uses the loom (called a Telar) to work her magic. She was so cute. After I took the picture she asked me if I could send her a copy. I said sure and asked for her email, but she just looked at me puzzled and said she didn't have email. So she gave me her rural address in her village. I'm sure it won't be cheap to send her a photo, but she was so eager to see herself in the picture on my digital camera, it will be so worth it to send it to her.