Oaxaca scattering

Scattering.  I made up that word.  In this case, it means bits and pieces.   We're NOB (north of the border) now, at home, and I'm remembering the last few weeks in our other home town.

Most Sunday afternoons, Casa Colonial hosts a music party in their pretty B&B lawn.  Jazz with Miguel and his quartet is particularly nice.  This photo is Kim and her quartet, playing rock 'n roll.  The margueritas are pretty good, too!






Stuart and me on the hanging bridge at Ixtlan de Juarez.  A string of small villages, high in the mountains above Oxaca have joined in protecting some miles and miles of very beautiful geography.  The Oaxacan state government helped build cabins in several villages, making overnight stays really comfortable. We went up with four friends for a couple of days of birding and hiking.




   





Any reason for a fiesta is reason enough!  The trash trucks were lined up one recent Sunday, all cleaned and decorated with flowers, to celebrate 30 years of keeping Oaxaca clean.  To be sure, I didn't really see the bottles of mezcal being passed around...

The view from the Fort at Yagul, an ancient Zapotec city south of Oaxaca.  To get there, take a bus to Tlacolula.  From Tlacolula, catch a collectivo heading to Mitla, and ask to be dropped at the road up to Yagul.  Walk about 2 miles up the road to the ruins, where you'll find one person minding the gate house, and very rarely, other people.  Pass the ruins, which are suddenly being uncovered and partially restored, and climb to the top of the hill for a totally quiet, beautiful view of the valley.  We like to take a picnic, go to the east rim of the hill, and watch and listen to the donkeys and farmers far below, working in the fields.  Often, we are above the hawks who are circling the fields, looking for mice.  If I die in Oaxaca, scatter my ashes from here, please!

To get back to Oaxaca, walk back out to the main road, and pretty soon a bus heading for the city will stop.

Stuart, with a big cactus, at Yagul.

 I'm so happy with my new spanish teacher, Laura (kneeling, center).  My friends, Jo Ann and Tom, have been studying with her for several years, and convinced her to take me on.  The final sales pitch:  I have a southern accent!  Laura arranged for 14 students/spouses to go to Santiago Apoala, north of the city, up in the mountains.  It's called the Shangri La of Oaxaca, and it's been on my List for several years.  The tiny village is on a plateau, tucked into a high valley, which drops off abruptly to a rolling plain which is almost 2 miles above sea level.  In addition to being in a beautiful location, it's almost impossible to get there!  Together, we rented a very comfortable van and hired a driver. Again, a cooperative of 5 tiny villages in the area have come together to protect and save the land, making a tiny income from the tourists who manage to find the cabins in Apoala.

After we dumped our packs in the cabins, we hiked and stared with open jaws at the gorgeous mountains and rivers.  Most of us hiked down the edge of the plateau, to see the waterfalls.  Laura and Stuart were having too much fun that afternoon!

The population of Apoala is about 70.  The road to Nochixtlan, the closest market town is rocky, rough and twisting.  It took 2 hours to drive 40 km.  A old man, herding goats in the pasture backed up to the mountain, told me the route the locals take is by burro, and he pointed in the opposite direction of the road.  He said it's an easy one-day hike.  He taught me a few Mixtec words for water, tree and rock.  I was pleased to be able to talk to him, both of us speaking in our second language, spanish.


 

The view of one of the waterfalls.  And we thought we'd swim.  HA!  The water was far too cold, but we did wade, cooling our hot feet.  The water was a beautiful green/blue!

 

Our cook, at the only restaurant in Apoala, which exists solely for the people staying in the tourist cabins.  She spoke a little spanish, and made tasty food for our gringo group. Supper was a cup of chocolate and quesadillas.  Because of the remoteness of the village, and it's newly built tourist cabins, the young men and boys in the village take turns guiding groups of tourists through the narrow canyons and into the caves.  Our young guide was a student in the tiny secondary school in town, and could read and speak spanish, even though Mixtec is spoken in his home.  The fields were plowed with ox and plow, to grow wheat, beans, melons and corn.  Other than farming, the people there had little means of making money.  There was electricity in the village, but you'd never know it after dark:  there were no lights at all.  We spent two nights, and saw zillions of stars!

Going to Apoala, the week before returning NOB, was a perfect ending.  We returned to Oaxaca, boxed up my sewing machine and a few other things, and enjoyed at last evening in the rooftop garden.  On to other adventures!