December 22, 2017
Today is a travel day. Bill and I had purchased one way tickets from Mexico City to Oaxaca since we really didn’t know what size car the others would be traveling in when we first made the plans. Alberto ended up with a work van because he was hauling 10 tires to Puerto Esconsido for a nonprofit institute who is helping earthquake victims. So we thought the ride would be another adventure and it was. Francesca made us a lovely breakfast at the house with homemade frijoles and a special egg dish. We took this picture in front of the outdoor Christmas tree to send to Max’s sister – our absentee host.
The first leg of the trip was from Mexico City to Puebla along a thoroughfare known as Zaragosa. There was much congestion and vendors were meandering through the lines of stopped traffic, plying their drinks and trinkets. We didn’t stop in Puebla and from the highway it was all unpainted concrete buildings and we couldn’t distinguish the houses from the factories. The countryside was rolling hills that eventually turned into mountains with some dramatic views. We stopped to take pictures in front of a very old cactus tree – maybe 1000 years old.
At one rest stop there was a gate to pay to get into the rest rooms. 5 pesos per person – I guess to cover the costs to pay someone to keep them clean and restock the toilet paper. A group of kids was there and their parents were shoving two at a time in through the gate. 5 pesos may be nothing to us (27 cents) but to these folks it adds up.
The route is mostly a toll road with tolls costing 20 to 70 pesos per stop. Because we were in a work van we were able to pass through without paying tolls upon presentation of the proper paperwork. The highway was either two lanes each way, a lane and a half, or a single lane. Like driving in Greece, custom dictates that cars going slower move to the right and onto the paved shoulder so we were able to move along pretty darn fast. And the no passing double yellow line is considered just a suggestion in Mexico. Sometimes we’d be passing in a no passing lane and so was a big truck coming from the other direction. A few times I just closed my eyes.
At the last two toll stops just before Oaxaca, the official toll keepers were not manning the booths. Instead groups of people carrying protest signs were demanding payment to them directly before they would open the toll gates. We weren’t sure what was going but there have been ongoing conflicts between teachers and the government over education reform to the point that protesting teachers in the Oaxacan region were killed in 2016.
The trip took about 7 hours and the van served us well, until just before we arrived at the hotel. The engine started rattling and shaking and backfiring. We rolled into the hotel parking lot while Lea and I tried not to laugh at what a sight we presented – 3 Gringos, 2 Mexicans and a very loud van. Our hotel was just perfect – about 10 minute walk from the city center and the rooms were inexpensive and adequate.
We got checked in and headed out on foot in search of a good restaurant. We ended up at Los Pacos, a place that is well known for its authentic Oaxacan mole that I had on my list and whose owner is a friend of Alberto. Los Pacos did not disappoint. We had some excellent mole, a rich sauce served over meats, tasted some mezcal (a cousin to tequila made from agave plant) and some excellent margaritas. Before the night was over, the boys were singing to me and Lea was sitting on Pacos’ motorcycle.
After dinner we headed down to the Zocalo (which is the Spanish word for central square). It was a lively scene, all decorated for Christmas and people everywhere. We found a perfect table at one of the restaurants facing the square where a marimba band was playing. We all took a spin at dancing in the street and met a lovely couple sitting next to us. He is Cuban and has been living in Toronto for 12 years. His wife of 3 days is Oaxacan and they met online a few years ago. Now they are trying to figure out how and where they are going to live their life together. Interesting conversation and perspective from a young person growing up in Cuba.
