Ixtlan de Juarez

After three days of discussion about HOW to get to Ixtlan de Juarez, we finally just went to the second class bus station and got on a bus.  Everyone we asked about 'how' had a different Truth about getting there.  Ixtlan de Juarex, pop. 8000, is only 37 miles from teh city, but those miles are up a very curvy, climbing road.  Some said the buses only come back to Oaxaca every three days; others said you can't get a bus, you must take a taxi or colectivo. We just wanted to get to this reportedly beautiful village, high in the Sierra Norte, close to the home of Benito Juarez, and enjoy the clean air and some hiking in the mountians. The bus

delivered us to the corner by one of the churches in about 1 3/4 hours  After a stop for gas, and lunch for the driver.

There is an ecotourism office here, and it's closed. We hope to get one of the remote cabanas, cabins, they offer. After asking around, and hearing the office might open at 4pm, we found some lunch on the pretty plaza. Afterwards, we went into the main church (there are at least 5 others, smaller churches). The Templo de Santo Tomas Apostol was begun in 1651, finished 100 years later. It's justifiably famous for the ornate wood carvings and gold covering almost every vertical surface. I counted sixty five 17th century paintings, and I'm sure there are many more. I didn't try to count the statues. We've seen lots of 400 year old churches in Mexico, but this one is pretty spectacular. This village must have been a very important Mayan religious center, giving justification to the Spanish to build such a big monument.

Ixtlan is a Mayan word that means 'land of the fibers of the maguey plant'. People don't grow much maguey around here anymore, instead they carefully manage a huge municipal holding of timber, thick forests that cover the northern Sierra mountains.

We caught a taxi down the mountain 3 miles, to the village where Benito was actually born, San Pablo Gelatao. It's a sleepy little village, where we find this enormous monument to the well-loved President. There is a little lake, with another bronze monument close by. We did not go in the museum... Back in Ixtlan, the ecotourism office is still closed, and we need to act in order to find a place to sleep. We heard there are cabanas for rent at the trout farm about 2 miles up the hill above the village. Dan and Tere came here recently, and raved about the place, but I don't remember them saying anything about cabins. We stop a tuk-tuk driver, who says there is a cabana for rent. And, do we mind if his novia rides up with us? At times, I'm not sure the little motor-cycle cab is going to make it up the steep, rutted dirt road, but they must make the trip often. The fare for La Trucha, the trout farm, is posted on the roof of the tuk-tuk: 30 pesos.

A young woman comes out of the open air restaurant, and agrees there is a cabana for us. In the kitchen, Noel Pacheco, the owner, is cooking over an open fire. He and I talk about how many nights: if we can't get a guia, a guide, to take us into the forest, we'll go back to Oaxaca tomorrow. No one is allowed in the forest without a guia. He says he can take us, so we'd like to stay two nights. Then, Noel begins to speak beautiful english! And I was doing so well in spanish...

The view from the open-air restaurant, looking north. The village communally owns all the land as far as we can see. The cabana is not ready, of course, and he suggests we sit by the ridge looking north while he cleans. Concepcion, who is 15 years old, brings us a couple of beers. We pinch ourselves, wondering if this is a dream! The sun is close to setting, there are flowers everywhere, the air is clean and clear, the sound of water running into the circular fish tanks is pretty...and we're going to be spending the night where there are no lights to cloud the stars. It's a two-beer cleaning job, and Noel leads us up the hill to the cabana. There are five doors opening off the porch: four with beds and one for the bathroom. Our bed has two thick blankets on it. There is no electricity up here, so the restaurant closes at 6. Noel suggests the trout with mushrooms and queso for dinner. It arrives, wrapped in foil, served with giant tostados.

This is the fish I ordered the second night, it just made a prettier photo!  After we finished dinner, the sun was behind the mountains, and Noel offered to build a fire for us by the cabana.  It's cold now, and we've put on our jackets and hats.  There is a half moon, directly overhead, but even with the moonlight flooding the sky, there are millions of stars visible.  There is running water, straight from the spring 4 km away, and it's cold.  We brush our teeth by moonlight, and crawl under the pile of blankets, letting the water running in the ponds put us to sleep.