After a mostly uneventful visit to a small city called Puebla, Marisa and I arrived in Oaxaca. Following the recommendation of my friend, Greg, we stayed at a cute little place not far from the center of town. As part of his master´s in Linguistics program, Greg lived in Oaxaca for a short while working to preserve one of the dialects of the indigenous Zapateco langauge. Yes, Greg is THAT cool. We hoped we were staying in the same room as he did.A word on Greg: he also does a mean karoake version of some New Order song that´s now escaping me. Oh, AND he likes to sew coverings for his and Wayne´s household ítems such as teapot cozys and printer covers. Wayne says that if he stood still long enough, Greg would sew him a cozy. Oh, how I love those sweet boys! I could go on an on…
(Deep inhale). Ok, so Oaxaca was everything we dreamed it would be. There was a crowded market where women in traditional dress walk by with baskets of chili peppers on their heads; a lively town center where dine-in carts selling Mexican food (that would rivel even the best Mission taquerías) mark every corner; and hard-working men discussing local politics over a couple of hearty cafe con leches. And everyone just seemed so happy…
We ate spicey enchilada dishes, witnessed the Mexican chocolate-making process, hung out in the zocalo (town plaza), learned all about Benito Juarez, sampled 20 different flavors of cremed mezcale (kind of like Bailey´s), appreciated the local graphite, and had drinks with two precious local boys one night who insisted upon walking us all the way home since, afterall, they were caballeros verdaderos (real gentlemen).
Like good little tourists, we checked out the local museum and the impressive city church. Note: I accidentally thought of a Jesus joke that I heard recently and had to excuse myself from the church as it didn´t seem appropriate to have such things on my mind given everyone´s seriousness and all. (Joke appears below if you think Jesus jokes are funny.)
And of course, we sampled the local mole dishes…and they did not let us down. ¡No, señor! Sitting at a beautiful restaurant looking out on the Zocalo, we each ordered a different type of chicken mole, passing our plates back and forth. No wonder everyone looks so happy here…
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Joke: Why did Jesus die on the cross? Answer: he forgot his safe word. Hahahahaha
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