Oaxaca, Mexico
Pronounced WA-HA-KA, this state in southeastern Mexico is an epicenter of art, culture, and political reform. Originally, I planned the sabbatical to be enjoyed in its coastal town of Puerto Escondido ‘learning’ Spanish and perfecting a degree in shredding surf; plans change but I was told I had to see its capital city.
Long story short: I will be back.
Oaxaca de Juarez is small but mighty. Its streets are vibrant in color and filled with people peddling fresh juices and local goods. On the outskirts lay the remains the Zapotecs, local contemporaries to the Mayans and Aztecs, who built a city of pyramids on a hilltop that is as impressive as any as I have seen. There is a harmonious clash of ancient and colonial, new wave and tradition, not to mention church and state. You can stroll though the Mercados (markets) and enjoy some of the best regional cuisine for less than $5 (and that is including a cerveca); one may just as easily indulge in an equally as delicious homage to those same recipes in unconventional fashions (Casa Oaxaca & your plantain mole, looking at you). Where used, the local limestone warms the surrounding space in blues and greens. There are museos that house Pre-Colombian archeology within distinctly Spanish Architecture, and next door another is showcasing modern art. Amidst all this daily life, one sees the celebration of death anywhere alebrijes are sold (what Pixar’s Coco was inspired by).
It works: juxtaposition seems to be a Oaxacan way of life.
When one looks through the history books, Oaxaca has some hometown heroes too. In the mid-1800’s, Mexico underwent a constitutional rebirth led by a native-born Zapotec, Benito Juarez (who the city, many streets, and multiple airports is named after). This period known as La Reforma is best characterized by the separation of religion from political affairs, and efforts to integrate the indigenous population as citizens in a modern Mexico. Statues and obelisks bear his name, ironic bookends next to distinctly French-styled buildings, remnants from an Austrian monarch who had made a deal with Napolean III. The general that defeated His Royal Highness Maximilian I was a local Oaxacan who eventually ascended the presidency. José de la Cruz Porfirio Díaz Mori was strict in his rule and modernized the country over the four decades he was in power; it was also his reign that prompted the Mexican Revolution. When you see a major street named Calle Porifio Diaz, you realize the moments that made Mexico are a narrative the people are proud of: it made them who they are today. Adding to that story are the protests that one sees in front of the city hall. Some are still seeking justice for the murders in an aggressive government land-grab years ago; others are just asking for anything at all. All over the streets, posters for various political parties are plastered about, and lines about the increased cost of living are sprayed on many walls. What could seem like opinion-overload actually plays like a game of Eye-Spy.
Another common sight in Oaxaca are Volkswagen Beetles. We are talking OG bugs in all shades and conditions. While I only captured 37 in a single day out on the town, I know I missed at least that many and imagine there are thousands crawling around the city. Ever the people’s car, the Beetle was reliable and resilient, and they are still running fine. Since the 1960’s, a factory to the north has producing Bugs for the world, and the ones that hum around Oaxaca are branded Hecho en Mexico in their own way.
While my time was short, I felt like I was able to see most of what TripAdvisor and friends recommended; as I hunted for VWs, I aimlessly wandered and was led down many an unbeaten path, coming across an artisanal chocolate shop, several beautiful Catholic Churches (a theme I am finding a little eerie across Latin America), and many, many mezcalerias. So if I saw it, why the desire to go back? The food alone is enough of a draw for any peckish person, and the rabbit hole of their local spirit only goes deeper. But honestly, life seemed simpler. Maybe it was the cobble stoned streets that beckoned back to a time without cellphone coverage; walking amongst the ruins of Monte Alban, left me with a vision of what society looked like hundreds of years ago, without the anxieties of modern day life . Maybe because it was my first solo-stop on this trip that I dove into it head first with unbridled zeal. At any rate, it was an escape in the purist way. As someone who is usually running away from something, this place is one I will sprint back to.
Te veo pronto OAX.
