Tlacolula

We did the market at Tlacolula last time we were in Oaxaca but it’s a Sunday morning tradition and we had some friends who’d not been before.

The outer approaches aren’t so crowded so after we parked the van in a rather tight lot we went looking for breakfast. Meat tacos may not be your first choice of breakfast if you aren’t at the market but when among locals…

It was actually very good with spicy flavored meat and a surprisingly soft pliant corn taco. I do miss the soft flour tortillas of north Mexico. 

Deeper in, the market gets shoulder to shoulder crowded and the voices of local dialect and Spanish jumble against your ears in a cacophony of sound. It’s not unusual for the Mayans in these communities that show up at the market to not speak Spanish at all. 

Consequently this is a tourist attraction too, and we weren’t an outpost of adventurous gringos lost among locals. We saw lots of tourists like us including well dressed middle class Mexicans enjoying the atmosphere. 

I took Rusty to give him a chance to stretch his legs and to my amazement he navigated the crowds like a pro, pulling me on his leash, stopping when he felt like it and fending off curious local dogs when they got too intimate. One dog kept sticking his nose up Rusty’s butt and on the third attempt Rusty saw him off in no uncertain terms. I was quite proud of my dog who seems to be learning Mexican culture on four feet. 

Like Hobbitts we had a second breakfast when offered chicken in mango sauce. We’d never had that before and it was quite delicious, a sweet and spicy mango flavored chicken leg with rice of course. We found room at the table to share our second breakfast together. We also shared the table with a neighbor was having a more conventional breakfast of chorizo and eggs and he also kindly helped out changing a large peso bill for us! 

I like the food at these places, tasting whatever the locals enjoy as long as it’s not patently gross! I don’t consider myself an adventurous eater but we have tried fried grasshoppers previously and felt no need to do it again! They just taste like extra salty saltines that don’t break up when mixed in salads or scrambled eggs so I don’t think of them as a treat, they feel like something inedible got in your food. 

Cheese is one flavor I do enjoy a great deal, and the local stuff is  not at all bad but if you want a change from the usual Queso Blanco, perhaps some hard cheese as some travelers we have talked to crave, you have to go a long way to find it. Most Mexicans don’t get to eat Parmesan or cheddar or similar exotics so you will need to visit Walmart not the local market! 

We never buy meat from butchers and don’t often cook it in our own meals. When we eat out and we usually do lunch rather than dinner, we buy meat dishes. We’ve traveled with vegetarians and the concept is pretty well understood in Mexico but at the street level it rarely produces memorable meals which I can’t help feeling is a little unfair. Beans cheese and tortillas are the basis of Mexican food and could easily be enlivened with vegetables and suitable vegetarian ingredients but not often are they offered. 

We need a cook and a general employee say the signs, below.  “Cocinera” ends in the letter a which leads me to conclude she will be a woman, while the successful “empleado” ends in an “o” so he will probably be a man. Gender free hiring is not yet known around here. 

Bread is everywhere for sale though often it is soft and slightly sweet like Hawaiian bread. Crisp savory bread can be found but most often at Walmart. 

“Tasty Nanches” are pitted fruit with a slightly tart lychee like taste and they aren’t my favorites though you can see Mexicans like them. I’m not a fan of tamarind either as I find life tart enough without having to eat tart fruit. 

A third breakfast was not on the cards but you can tell my palate is faulty when I like the idea of Mexican hot dogs and French fries! 

Whoever they are talking about should be worried…they were having a great Sunday morning at the breakfast stand: 

Layne rounded up a roast chicken with onions and potatoes for our fridge while Rusty dragged me down the market, my little Panasonic camera at the ready. 

Greg buying some pulque, a fermented barely alcoholic coconut-like drink actually made from agave.  It’s yeasty and not sweet and has an earthy flavor like mescal not yet distilled. 

Greg and his partner Duwan are going back packing after they get their ailing Transit van back to the States. I expect after being broken down for months, not days as in our case, van life pales. 

I had to have one. I love custard, crème patissiere more formally, and in Mexico the cream is not too sweet. Layne got a couple of nearby kids some treats after we asked their Mom. I shared a bite of mine with Rusty and he seemed to like it. You never know with him. 

You can get anything you want in miles of winding teeming shady streets devoted to pedestrians one day a week. 

Crispy fried pork skin? Buy it by the yard…

“New York Yankees” - you’d be snaked how many Mexicans have spent time in the US before coming home to be with their families with the money they earned. Most want work not residence. 

I want neither work nor residence as I enjoy being a traveler and as much as I enjoy Mexico id I have to settle down I want it to be in the States. You are always a foreigner here. 

Never too old for a phone I guess. I wonder what technology will start to get away from me. Already I find I have no interest in videography which is popular and artificial intelligence neither interests nor bothers me. 

Layne made a donation to a shopkeeper with a dog bowl out front. She organizes a weekly round up of street dogs, rescues them and neuters them in an effort to reduce the population by finding them homes. 

On the way home a glitch reappeared when the air conditioning stopped blowing through the vents into our faces. Ron the engineer our neighbor showed me how to tear down the front of the van (scary) and reset the blower. Then I taped it in the blow position. It’s a complicated repair for some reason and I have a spare motor which unordered in Belize when we got the new radiator but setting it up to work didn’t seem to fix the problem of no air in our faces. It needs further investigation! 

USA here we come… slowly. June 17th we’re guessing with some home travel on speed bump free roads and wild camping in cool mountains. Oh and a couple of maintenance items too. 

Driving Oaxaca

From an outsider’s perspective the borders of Mexico Guatemala and Belize are drawn in stone yet in the minds of at least a few residents and politicians that’s just not so.

During the era of Spanish colonialism from around 1550 to 1820 Guatemala was the powerhouse of New Granada a colony that included the Maya lands of Southern Mexico and British Honduras that became Belize and Guatemala itself. Even today Guatemala is arguing in court that Britain did not fulfill 150 year old treaty obligations and thus Guatemala claims Belize. In Mexico Zapatista rebels want independence for Chiapas, the state they say has been forgotten by the central government in Mexico City.

All of which means that when you cross a state boundary or a national border some things look remarkably similar. Mayan traditions don’t vanish with map boundaries though you’d be hard pressed to find a Mexican who would prefer to be a Guatemalan, a citizen of a smaller poorer country. 

It rapidly became apparent that illegal immigration to Mexico is now viewed as a problem. On our two day drive to Oaxaca from Tapachula the Mexican authorities were obsessively checking who was coming through. We expected to pass through a permanent checkpoint near the town of Hixtla on Highway 200 as our vehicle papers were checked here last year. There is a hassle free zone inside the southern Mexico border where visitors don’t need vehicle permits but beyond this point you do, and they check you have them. 

All the way along Highway 200 and then Highway 190 we found innumerable checkpoints where we were usually just waved through unless curiosity got the better of the indie tots and they stopped to ask us where we were coming from and going to…

Staffing seemed random but as we have heard about the post Covid changes coming to the US border with the addition of soldiers to try to suppress the flow it seems obvious Mexico wants to claim its doing its bit. 

But you can see the refugees alongside the highway walking in sight of the checkpoints where officials earnestly check the trunks of passing cars for human or material contraband. 

You can recognize them by their luggage, people who are walking for weeks and thousands of miles to reach the US. Churches and aid groups give out food water and backpacks as they pass through communities. If you think illegal immigration is just a US problem Mexico is overwhelmed by this flood of humanity walking up from Central and South America. 

It’s c pretty horrific as we drive by in 95 degree heat with our air conditioning blasting and US passports and dollars rattling in our van. We dare not give any of them a ride as that would open the door to aiding and abetting. 

But it’s an incredible distance they have walked and have yet to walk with not much of a chance of anything good coming their way. Like so many of our problems this one needs an adult conversation to start figuring out what to do but we never seem to get closer to finding leaders to talk like grown ups. 

We call these warning signs for official checkpoints “time to put our hats on” when we see them. The holes are to prevent the signs being blown down by the notoriously powerful winds blowing across Mexico at its narrowest mountainous point into the Gulf of Tehuantepec. 

Total Stop they say but we rarely do as they wave us through once again. 

Highway 200 through western Chiapas is mostly well paved winding through agricultural lands with lots of trees overhead making it a lovely drive. 

And then when you get to Oaxaca State the road goes to total shit, potholes uneven patches, ripples and bumps. Chiapas, which is a much poorer state must be getting federal money as Highway 200 was getting a fresh coat of asphalt as we drove that section of the road. 

Sunset is at 6:30 and it gets  dark by seven so we found a gas station where we could park for the night and Layne made supper, salad and pork sandwiches with whole grain bread from Sam’s Club and with the air conditioning running off our batteries we went to sleep. 

We planned to take hot showers in the gas station and at 25 cents each it sounded like a bargain. However Mexico, land of the inexplicable struck again- the toilets were closed for cleaning from six to seven am which I would have figured was peak use hour…It was our fault for not showering when they were available when we arrived the evening before; we know better! 

So even though the road turned rough the morning started well with a roadside food stand next to a wide open space for easy parking, something we missed in hilly Guatemala and I came away with a chicken salad sandwich. 

Broad scenic views greeted us as we drove through the windy gap named for the Gulf of Tehuantepec on Mexicos Pacific Coast. In addition to the road signs drilled out to make them less wind resistant there are as you might expect lots of windmills generating electricity. 

And political protests from impoverished locals. The hand painted sign on the road bridge announces there is no private land in the community of Niltepec. 

We stopped for home made cheese quesadillas for lunch at a turn out in the highway. You get used to the trash after a while and we sat in our well insulated van and looked out at the steeply sloped agave fields broiling in the 90 degree sun. 

Traffic was light and though some people describe this drive into the mountains from the coastal plain as twisty we found the going pretty easy. Driving out of Oaxaca to the Gulf Coast, Highway 175 is so twisty we averaged ten miles an hour over a day of driving. 

On this road we rarely had to dip below 30 and the surface improved quite a bit. 

It was a pleasant drive under the sun with the prospect of a fully equipped campground when we arrived in a few hours. The prospect of a much delayed hot shower encouraged me to keep moving. 

It might seem odd but the road snaking along the side of the hills overlooking valleys made green by the early start of rainy season put me in mind of the Blue Ridge Parkway, with long sweeping curves through countryside almost devoid of habitation. 

Ridges of mountain made blue by the misty light … and then damned speed bumps to remind us we were in Mexico with all the attendant joy of random speed bumps. 

It was a great drive and with the campground located south of Oaxaca itself we didn’t have to deal with city traffic.

El Rancho RV park is just north of the picturesque town of Santa Maria Del Tule known locally simply as El Tule. 

Every overlander thinks of El Rancho as home from home not least because Cali keeps us in line like errant schoolchildren and cleans obsessively like the perfectionist janitor you’ve never met. 

Sewer connections, power outlets, laundry, a communal kitchen, swimming pool, purified water for purchase and lots of new and old friends to meet. All for $17 a day with the seventh night free. Life behind these secure high walls can’t be beat, figs can run free and children play unsupervised. 

Of course we are playing tourist again as we pause here before we go north to the dentist in Los Algodones and then the States. Laynes implant appointment is June 13th so we can dawdle and save money by not driving and plan to be in Santa Cruz California by the end of June in time for cool coastal breezes on the Central Coast. 

For now the living is easy with cool mornings and hot midday sunshine afternoon showers and thunderstorms (Rusty’s delight) and good sleeping weather with no air conditioning. It’s a tough life in Mexico if you do it right.