settling in Oaxaca

        OK, we've been here two months,so the title of this post makes no sense, does it?  But, I was playing catch-up when we first arrived in Oaxaca.  I still love the thrill of arriving in this beautiful, elegant city, and getting my kitchen settled in.  The delight of eating REAL food still makes me grab the camera. 

From left:  the hand-made tortillas from a woman who begins her day by grinding the corn and building a fire under a huge clay comal.  She is not on the way to anywhere we normally go, but I go out of my way to buy her hand-made tortillas.  Bring your own plastic bag, and cotton towel, in order to get them home in good condition!  Un peso cada uno.  One pese each!  The freshly made yogurt, from el mercado Pasquaz Sanchez, on calle Porfirio Diaz.  Go in the north door (there are several entrances, of course), go down the steps, the yogurt people are in front of the chicken lady.  They scoop the yogurt from a five gallon bucket.  And, they no longer ask me if I want "natural"...they know my face!  The papayas are more delicious than I can describe:  soft and velvety on the tongue, sweet and perfectly ripe.  With a squeeze of lime, please!  The locally made queso fresco, the crumbly cheese you MUST use on beans, or just about anything else.  Salty, tangy, delicious.  The strawberries must be coming from Pueblo, not so far away, and sweet and perfectly ripe, and like everything else, cheap.

Every Saturday, I walk about 15 blocks to the 5 Senores neighborhood.  It's a nice walk, not much traffic in this part of town on Saturday morning.  There, I find the weekly tiaguis, a pop-up market.  Fruit and vegetable, pork, beef and chicken vendors, a dozen or more kitchens and fruit juice squeezers, clothes, flowers, nail polish, and just about anything else you can think of, they're all there.  They set up early Saturday morning, and by mid-afternoon, the best stuff is sold, and folks are sitting on plastic stools at the taco kitchens filling their bellies for a few pesos.  You'll find Stuart and me there, too! I  buy a week's worth of fruits and veggies, more than I can comfortably carry.  The bus stops at the corner of the market, right by the orange truck, which is where I make my last purchase.  Twenty five oranges for about one dollar!  Sweet, juicy and cheap.  The bus costs 6 pesos, about 50 cents, and takes me right to my apartment.  Life is good!

Last week, I stopped to buy some garlic from a woman sitting on a bucket.  She had something I didn't recognize, and the young woman buying some of the unknown veggie offered me a taste.  Roasted garbanzo's, in the pod.  Delicious!  A bag of them cost less than a dollar, and that smokey goodness went into a wheat-berry salad I made later that day.  Along with that ugly, heirloom tomato, that was almost smashed when I got it home.

Before we left Wilmington, I had dreams of buying a sewing machine, to put in The Box.  I checked a couple of stores, the new machines were reasonably priced, but something made me hold off.  We were walking one morning, past a pawn shop, and I went in.  They had FOUR machines for sale!  Well, a couple of days later, I went back with a demo kit in my pack:  decent thread, a piece of fabric, new machine needles and a pair of scissors.  To my surprise, all the machines had been sold.  That will teach me.  So, the kit stayed in my bag until I bought this sweet little Brother XL3200 for about $110US  few days later.  It needed a light bulb, easy enough to replace in a city that doesn't think twice about having clothes repaired or altered.  It runs like a dream.  I've made a skirt, top, 2 rugs, hemmed several kitchen towels and a pair of shorts for our neighbor.  Oh, and I made a pair of slippers.  That's another story. I'm happy to know I can stitch anything I want.  Next year, I'll bring a few supplies back with me, including my rotary matt and cutter.

We spent about 2,000 pesos getting settled in with other kitchen necessities and household things.  You don't think about reaching for the salt shaker or the clorox to soak the veggies (ok, not in the States), and of course we needed everything else.   Our kitchen is adequately outfitted for non-cooks, I needed a cheese grater, a decent knife, a pot of a Certain Size with a lid for popping popcorn.  We needed a decent orange juicer, an extension cord, a blender and coffee pot, some of which we found at the pawn shop, and some at the Chedraui supermarket, and some at the big Abastos mercardo. Plastic containers for food storage and ziplock bags, clothes pins and toilet tissue.  Yep, all the important stuff! 

We have a short list of things to bring next year, but mostly, we have everything we need.  The things on the list are duplicates, otherwise, we'd buy them here.  Oaxaca is a beautiful, elegant, modern city.  With the best food in the country. 

Teposcolula, Yanhuitlan and Sto. Domingo, Oaxaca

Oaxaca's own Santo Domingo, at night.  Lovely.  The botanic gardens, behind the exconvento-museum are truly gorgeous, and when the trees there begin to bloom in the next couple of weeks, it will be a walled paradise.  I'll go, when the trees begin to bloom.

















    My spanish teacher, Laura, organized a one-day trip to two small villages beyond Nochixtlan last Sunday.  It's known as the Dominican Route, south.  Of the four missionary orders - the Franciscans, Jesuits, Augustinians and the Dominicans, the Dominicans were the most dominant in Oaxaca.  It does seem like a miracle that the Dominican padres even found these remote villages, much less were able to direct the building of such monuments, given the tools available in the early 1500's.  Yanhuitlan was a properous and skilled Mixtec kingdom when the spanish arrived, with a large population.  Who knows how many indigenous people died just building this church, enslaved for their skills and labor?  The church was large enough to hold those who 'converted', and the walled plaza around the church was the size of about three football fields, to hold everyone. About 100 years after the church was completed, the population of Yanhuitlan collapsed.

We arrived Sunday morning, about 10am, and the tiny village was very quiet.  The doors to the church opened when we arrived, to reveal a soaring ceiling, lots of gold and about 10 pews.  I assume services are held here, and the people stand.

Much of the wall space inside the church was covered with huge 16th century religious paintings.  They were not only icons, but used in teaching the unwashed masses, since the padres had to learn the local language, which took time.  Just like in my ESOL classes, they used pictures!

The exconvent was now being renovated for use as a museum.  The small village owns the church, and collected a small fee to see the exconvent, and a small fee for those of us who wanted to take pictures.  We spent about an hour touring on our own, and climbed back in the bus to move westward to Teposcolula.  Pronounced just like it's spelled!

Teposcolula is the district capitol.  The population today is much smaller than when the Dominicans arrived in 1520.  They found strong prosperous villages, up the hillsides from a lake-filled valley.  They drained the lake for farmland, and moved the village to it's present location. They kept the Mixtec name, but, in normal fashion, added the San Pedro and San Pablo to Teposcolula.  The name is so impossibly long, no one uses it all, just calling it Teposcolula.  I took the picture on the left from outside the wall surrounding the grassy plaza in front of the church.  We arrived the day after the celebration of the church's patron saint, so it was festooned outside with colorful banners.  The zocalo, just behind the church, was also decorated for a puebla fiesta.  This church is even larger than the one in Yanhuitlan, to my amazement.

The  open-air church is an important part of the history of the church and the village.  You can see the walls, on the left side of the main capila, and that was where the unwashed masses listened to the sermons and teachings.  The stonework was magnificent, and the statues and other decorations were in surprisingly good shape after 4 centuries.

Inside the church, huge flower displays were spread across the front of the church, lily blooms the size of dinner plates in arrangements taller than me.  The gold around the altar and side altars was shiny.  True to spanish nature, the statue of Jesus was graphically displayed, bloody knees, hands and head.  We marvelled at the whiteness of the white walls, which seemed brighter than other churches.

 

Laura had hired a guide to give us some history and explain some of what we saw.  Miguel is a young local man, who is rumored to be in the running for mayor.   In the beginning, I understood some of what he said, and I was pleased.  But, ohmylord, he went ON!  Three hours later, most of our group had retired to the shady steps on the other side of the church, commenting that we wanted to know a little, not the entire history of the church!  I ran out of energy to follow him after a while, too, and because I couldn't hear everything he said, soon I was almost totally lost.  I wandered around the exconvento, which is being restored by the village, took a few pictures and enjoyed the quiet.  Eventually, Miguel either ran out of steam or ran out of info.  Or, maybe Laura told him it was time for lunch.  We made our way through the zocalo to a small restaurant (they were expecting us), and had a nice comida before getting back on the bus for the 2 hour drive back to Oaxaca. 

My question had been answered:  who owns the churches now?  The villages.  So, all the money raised for the renovation or maintenance of these two churches came from donations or the villages.  There is also a very wealthy family in Oaxaca who support Worthy Causes, like the renovation of important tourist sites like these.  We had each paid 50 pesos (less than $5US) to our guide, and I believe all that money went to the repair fund.  With labor and materials at such low prices as is common here, our tour went a long way to the renovation project.  

Now, is this enough about churches?!?  More fun in the next post, I promise.

a few notes about churches in Oaxaca

Our friend, Brent, arrived from Wilmington last week,  a primera vez a Oaxaca, his first visit to Oaxaca.  It's a magical city, it casts a spell on almost everyone.  Most people come for a short visit, and return again and again, staying a bit longer each time.  Our first stop:  Marco Polo for breakfast.  It's a church for foodies!  He fell in love, just like we did the first time we walked into that pretty courtyard and tasted the delicious food.  So, with the spell cast, we set out to explore with him.

Basilica la Soledad, Our Lady of Solitude.  The pope visited this elaborate church, in the 1970's, I believe.  It's as ornate inside as it is outside.  Stuart and I think of this church as the Nieve Church.  The huge courtyard in front of the church, shaded with tall trees, is a lovely place to enjoy a nieve (fruit ice) from one of about a dozen vendors.  I took this photo just about sunset, facing west.

I don't know the name of this church!  It's across the big plaza from la Soledad, not nearly as ornate.  The bells chime regularly here, shaking the umbrellas over the nieve tables, which are just out of this picture, to the right.

Wednesday is market day in the Zapotec village of Zachilla.  Zachilla was one of a few villages that survived after the decline of Monte Albon in the 800's, it has one of the most "colorful" weekly markets around.  This is an image of the spanish church, taken from behind and above.  We were on the hills of the Zapotec and earlier Mixtec ruins, seeing the little bit that remains of those "churches".  The front of this church has been painted bright colors, more of the traditional colors the Dominicans would have never used.

The Zachilla market sprawls through the streets around the small zocalo.  Here, you can buy honey or melons in season, embroidered dresses, vegetables of every kind, mescal, a wheelbarrow full of chickens or just one chicken, live turkeys, ducks and goats.  We ate delicious empanadas, filled with potato and chorizo, washed down with big cups of fresh orange juice.  We ate just after chatting with the only other gringos in the market, who said they would NEVER eat anything here!  I'm sorry for them.

One of the remaining pieces of artwork in the tomb above Zachilla...

There is a church in Tlacochoaya, probably impossible to discern from this photo, that is remarkable for it's organ and the paintings on the ceilings.  We caught a colectivo from the edge of town to the ruins of Dainzu, which was a village of the same age as Zachilla.  Brent, Stuart and I were the sole visitors at the ruins, as usual, and then hiked through the fields to Tlachochoaya to see the pretty church.  Pictures below:

This is one of my favorite places around Oaxaca:  Santa Maria el Tule.  The village with the Big Tree.  This Mexican Cypress tree is about 2000 years old, and is probably the largest living tree in Latin America.  Of course, there is a church in same courtyard.  Tule, as the town is called, is also one of my favorite places for barbacoa on Sundays.  The central pedestrian walkway is crowded on Sunday afternoons with families who have come to eat and stroll. 

Enough churches for this post!  I promise there will be more, later.

Atzompa Ruins and Hiking San Augustin Etla

  Atzompa is a village near Oaxaca that, up until recently, was known for it's signature green pottery.  It's very poor village, with roots firmly planted in the 7th century.  Lately, the income from the green pottery that is made in almost every house in the small village has had been boosted by the ruins at the top of the hill. The state has spent money in the past two years digging and interpreting the ruins of the original Zapotec city, including building a road up to and several parking lots just below the ruins. The work on the site displaced about 100 families who were living close to the top of the hill, but the promise of money from tourism satisfied the town.

The local hiking group in Oaxaca went up there a few weeks ago.  There is bus service to the village, but it's a little confusing to find the correct bus, so most of us grouped together to get collectivos, and we met in the small church courtyard. It was a sunny, hot day, and we walked up the hill, past the shacks that are the houses and pottery workshops.  Several of us took the shortcut up the mountain, a steeper but short walk to the top.

The Zapotec city of Atzompa was built between the 7th and 9th century, and overlooks one of the three valleys that are home to Oaxaca.  It's was not a part of the city of Monte Alban, but a neighbor.  The ball court is 45 meters long, significantly larger than the ball court at Monte Alban.  Archeologists believe it was the main ball court for the area.  It's situated so the players, and likely the viewers, would have a view of the city below.  It is a gorgeous location, with gorgeous views across the valley!  The state has done a great job with the preservation and presentation of the site.  After touring the site, Stuart and I joined about 10 other hikers for lunch in the village, and a quick tour through the pottery mercado.

The potters is ornate, mostly glazed in a lead-free green color.  A few pieces are left in the natural color, but the style is distinctively Atzompa.

The next week, three friends, Stuart and I went up to San Augustin Etla for a hike up the aquaduct above that town.  Water is a problem in most of the Oaxaca area, but there is a spring above San Augustin Etla that has watered that small village of farmers and small businesses.  Again, we caught a collectivo to the church in the center of the puebla, and walked up the hill to the resevoir.  That water is NOT clean, coming directly from the mountain top in the hand-made channel, but there is a filter/cleaning process here, and the small mountain of 5 gallon, reusable water bottles outside confirms that our drinking water just might come from here.

About 3 hours up the hill, there is an abandoned electric plant.  It used the water from the spring to run the turbines.  The shell of the building is pretty, the inside is trash and vandalism-worn.  We follow the aquaduct up the hillside, sometimes tight-rope-walking the narrow ledge across a canyon.  Along the path we cross a couple of 3-inch pipes the local farmer uses to siphon off water for a small field of corn, onions and squash.

I've hiked this trail several times, and it's always a good hike...the deciduous trees right now are leafless, making the orchids and bromeliads visible.  Even something that looks like mistletoe, golden, is growing up here!  I don't know what it really is.

I think this vine, pictured directly above, is like the sweet autumn clematis that grows like crazy in southeastern NC.

I spied this nest on the way down...none of us knew what kind of bird it housed, but was abandoned in early February.

 A picnic lunch by the creek, at the old electric plant at the top of the mountain...

The hike along the aquaduct is an easy, uphill walk.  The long views are not so spectacular, but the walk is good, if you begin early in the day, the birding is probably pretty good.  Stuart, coming down the mountain.  Another great day in Oaxaca!

Tamales, malemalemale, TAMALES!

Every morning, about 8am, I hear a deep-voiced announcement coming from the street in front of our apartment:  "Tamles, malemalemalemale, TAMALES".  I know to grab some coins from the dish, and head to the front gate.  The dude makes his rounds in centro historico daily, pedaling his three-wheeled bicycle, the kind used all over central and south American to haul people and goods.  He pulls tamales out of the deep pot, they are still steaming hot, and asks if you want  a bolillo, a roll, to make a sandwich with your tamale.  I get mine sin bolillo, without the roll.  He usually has chicken/mole, rajas strips of chile poblano, onions and tomatoes,  and quesillo, the local fresh, salty string cheese. Eight pesos each, about 75 cents.Tamales are fast food here.  No drive through window, no fake ingredients, freshly made in some tiny kitchen very early in the morning, and pedaled to street corners all over the city.  As I walk to school every day, I pass a dozen street corner "fast food" stands, people standing around the steaming  pots.

I love tamales, and for several years have thought I'd make them while I'm in Oaxaca.  The corn is different here, and if I can get the feel for it, perhaps I could make them in Wilmington, too. I never have gotten around to making them.  So, when my spanish school, Oaxaca Spanish Magic announced a tamale making class this past week, I was the first to sign up.  Flor asked which day would be best, and I said any day!  Marguerite would be our teacher tomorrow, and of course, it would be taught in spanish.  As soon as I got home, I put my apron in the backpack for the next day.

Catalina, Diana, Jessica and I put on our aprons, and Flor joined us to help if we needed translating.  We didn't, but she's so fun!  At 1:00, we began chopping the tomatoes, onions and jalapenos, into the pot they went.  We boiled the banana leaves, and soaked the corn husks in cool water.  We prepared the mole negro, adding tomatoes and a cup of caldo de pollo, chicken broth to the Mayordomo  mole pasta she'd bought. We picked the chicken from its bones, Marguerite had cooked it earlier in the day. She also had the black beans cooked and mashed.  She had two bowls of masa, partially ready, she measured out a fistful of manteca, lard, some baking powder and a healthy ration of salt into the bowl, and one of us dived in to mash and knead until she pronounced it done.  She showed us how to carefullycarefully separate and tear the banana leaves into the correct size, and how to patch it if we tore it.  Then she showed us how to spread the masa onto each leaf, very thinly.  We each tore and spread, getting the feel for how thickly to apply the masa.  A handful of chicken, and spoonful of mole.   Then, fold here, here and here, and neat packet is made!

picture left:  Catalina, Flor (the director of Oaxaca Spanish Magic), Diana (partially hidden), Jessica and our maestra, teacher, Marguerite

  Next, we spread masa on the corn shucks, which we'd carefully divided into piles of grande and medio. We spread a thin layer of masa on both sizes.  Into the medio size, a heaping spoon of rajas, then we folded.  This packet when inside the large cornshuck and we folded it closed.

picture left:  rajas in the medio shuck.

The frijoles con hierba santa, black beans with a savory herb leaf was next.  Again, a thin layer of masa in two sizes of cornshucks.  The hojo de hierba santa, the herb leaf went in first, then a big dollap of frijoles.  OK, I'm getting the hang of this:  the smaller bean packet goes inside the larger cornshuck.  These, we tied with a strip of cornshuck, in order to identify them.

Marguerite had a huge pot, with a little water in it ready.  A rack keeps the tamales above the water, and we loaded the pot, filled it completely with the three kinds of tamales we'd assembled so far.  Then, she tucked a plastic grocery bag over the top of the tamales, then a wet kitchen towel.  Finally, the lid went on it.  It will take about an hour, after the water comes to a boil.  About this time, Flor broke out the mescal, we each had a couple of shots, to celebrate our success.  All four of us were thrilled with our new skill, and our complete comprehension of Marguerite's teaching.
  

picture left:  the medio packet tucked into the grande shuck

So, we began making the sweet tamales, the dessert tamales.  The masa  for the sweet tamales was mixed with water, the other had been mixed with chicken broth.  Marguerite added some sugar, salt and baking powder.  Then, she added the chopped pineapple and a handful of raisins.  And, yes,a fistful of manteca!  Again, one of us kneaded until it was well mixed.  We tasted it, to adjust the salt if necessary.



picture left:  final assemblies of the chickn/mole and rajas tamales, before cooking, and a pot of leftover rajas.

picture left:  hierba santa leaves.  They're BIG!


The sweet tamale mixture went into the cornshucks just like the rajas and frijole tamales.  Marguerite had a separate, smaller pot ready for the sweet.  You surely don't want to mix the chicken flavor with the sweet pineapple!  The pot was covered with a plastic bag and wet towel, and the lid. 



While the tamales cooked, we finally sat down, after three hours of prep.  This is not difficult, but it is not fast, either.  Flor gave us each a beer while Marguerite went over the printed recipe sheets she'd prepared.


We each ate TWO tamales, with great glee and approval all around the table.  The dessert tamale was the big surprise:  the sweetness of the pineapple was delicious with the corn.  The red you see is from the sprinkle of cochineal we added to each one before folding it.


Marguerite and Flor packed up the rest of the tamales in bags for each of us.  I walked down the street, warm tamales in my pack, the aroma making people look at me and smile as I passed them on the sidewalk.  These are surely the best tamales ever!



Marguerite, our terrific teacher!