Visiting Abastos Market in Oaxaca, Mexico is a grand adventure⏤an immersive experience in the heart of local culture. As one of the largest and busiest markets in the region, it bursts with vibrant colors, scents, and sounds. Mostly sheltered, taking up about four city blocks, the air is filled with the rich aromas of freshly ground chilies, spices, grilled meats, fish, flowers and herbs. Stalls overflow with everything from handwoven textiles and pottery to exotic fruits and traditional Oaxacan foods like mole, tlayudas, and chapulines (grasshoppers). All types of hardware, household items, clothing, shoes and hats, are sold. The energy is palpable, as vendors call out their offerings, and shoppers negotiate prices. It’s a bustling hub of life, offering a true taste of Oaxacan tradition.
Woman selling fried chapulines, or grasshoppers
Amy especially is entranced, stopping often to inspect goods. I stroll through, taking pictures and enjoying the bustling atmosphere. We like to stop along the way for a cool chocolate shake made by a specialty chocolate shop called Mayordomo. Here is a six minute video of the market experience, with music:
Big Mexican markets are sensorial delights of sight, sound, textures, smells . . . . the total package. Our little village, San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, outside Oaxaca city, has its own Tuesday market, where vendors sell fruits and vegetables, homemade foods, flowers, garden plants and other items. Each week I buy fresh cut flowers, fruits and vegetables.
Our home always is adorned with beautiful flowers.
The Guelaguetza festival in Oaxaca, Mexico, is an exhilarating experience and a fantastic photographic opportunity. This major annual event showcases the rich cultural diversity of Oaxaca's eight regions through traditional music, dance, food, and artisanal crafts. The festivities span about two weeks at the end of July, featuring numerous activities. My wife Amy and I particularly enjoy the massive “calenda,” or parade, that winds through the streets of Oaxaca Centro.
Unfortunately, we missed the first of the two big parades last weekend. As we prepared to drive from our village into town yesterday, clouds began to gather, and a light sprinkle of rain fell. This being our wet season, I wondered if the parade would be drenched.
Despite the weather, we decided to go. The parade was scheduled to start at 5 PM, so we left around 4, planning to arrive at our viewing spot fifteen minutes before the swirling dancers, brass and percussion bands, puppets, and other participants would pass by. It continued to drizzle as we drove, and approaching the Centro district, we got stuck in a traffic jam, barely inching forward. Meanwhile, the parade had already begun. Amy suggested we turn back, thinking it might be a wasted effort. However, we had come this far, so we decided to stay in the slow-moving lines of cars, our windshield wipers slowly slapping time. I resolved to head to where the parade would finish since we would miss the start. The route spans about a mile.
The unusual amount of traffic puzzled us until we realized it must be due to the festival. To our dismay, the police had blocked off some streets as we arrived. Nevertheless, I managed to navigate us to the area where the parade would end. The streets were extremely crowded, making parking a challenge. Eventually, I turned up a little cobblestone street. By this time, dusk was approaching, and the sky was overcast. As I drove slowly forward, I hit an unseen hole. Crunch! The car lurched with a terrible noise. This was worse than the usual for the often rough streets and sidewalks. We parked about twenty feet further along. I was upset, Amy was disheartened, and it was still sprinkling. But we needed to find the parade.
We walked about five blocks, sometimes sharing our one umbrella. The rain wasn't heavy, so I accepted getting slightly wet. A huge crowd had gathered at the corner where the parade would soon arrive and make a turn. We could get no closer than about four people back, blocked by a solid mass of humanity. Both sides of the festive streets were filled with families, some children perched atop their father's shoulders. Plenty of umbrellas were open and held aloft.
When the parade arrived, the atmosphere exploded with jubilation. Fireworks burst overhead, bands played energetically, dancers swirled in native costumes, and women with long black braids danced gracefully. Revelers shouted, "¡Viva Oaxaca!" Candy was thrown into the crowd. From behind people, I could barely see, and Amy even less, but the excitement and spectacle were palpable. Looking behind us, an old woman, much shorter than Amy looked helplessly. And there were more people behind her. We stayed for about twenty minutes before deciding to leave.
One of our favorite restaurants was nearby, so we ended up there for dinner before heading home. Thankfully, our car seemed to have weathered the hit. In the end, we felt peculiarly satisfied and agreed that next year, we would arrive much earlier.
Living in our rural village of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, my wife Amy and I are privileged to experience the vibrant culture of nearby Oaxaca in its most authentic form. Every July, we eagerly anticipate the Guelaguetza festivities, an annual festival celebrated in Oaxaca, Mexico, that showcases the rich cultural diversity of the region. Here are the key aspects of the Guelaguetza festivities:
1. Timing and Location: The festival takes place on the last two Mondays of July in Oaxaca City and surrounding areas. The main events are held at the Guelaguetza Auditorium on Cerro del FortÃn, a hill overlooking the city.
2. Cultural Significance: "Guelaguetza" means "offering" or "reciprocal exchange of gifts" in Zapotec, reflecting the festival's emphasis on community sharing and mutual interdependence.
3. Historical Roots: The festival has origins dating back over 3,000 years, initially as a celebration of the Oaxacan corn goddess. It later incorporated Catholic elements after Spanish colonization.
4. Regional Representation: Delegations from Oaxaca's eight culturally diverse regions participate, showcasing their unique traditions.
5. Performances: The festival features traditional dances, music, and costumes specific to each region. Performers often distribute gifts to the audience, such as fruit, baskets, candy, or local goods.
6. Parades: Colorful parades called "calendas" are an integral part of the festivities, featuring dancers, singers, and musicians.
7. Food and Drink: The festival celebrates Oaxacan cuisine, including specialties like mole and mezcal.
8. Artisanal Crafts: A market (mercado) showcases handmade items from Oaxaca, including traditional apparel and crafts.
9. Additional Events: The celebration includes side events such as the performance of "Princess Donaji," an epic pre-Hispanic theatrical presentation.
10. Tourist Attraction: While the Guelaguetza has become a significant tourist draw, it remains deeply important for preserving and celebrating the indigenous cultures of Oaxaca.
Friday we went to watch some street festivities. Marching brass and percussion bands filled the air with lively rhythms, creating an infectious energy that reverberates through the streets. Costumed dancers marched and danced, carrying icons. The crowds are mostly Mexican natives with a good dose of tourists mixed in.
We are both stimulated by cultural extravaganzas. I am a photographer as well as painter so try and angle for the best photos. Amy is an artist too, and quite good recording moments on her iPhone.
The dancers are a sight to behold. Adorned in native costumes, they step and twirl with grace and precision, their movements telling stories passed down through generations. Each region of Oaxaca showcases its unique heritage through these performances, from the vibrant dresses of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec to the feathered headdresses of the Mixtec dancers. The vivid colors and intricate designs of their costumes are mesmerizing, a testament to the rich cultural tapestry of our region. Often women dance and twirl with baskets of flowers or fruit on their head.
As the sun sets, festivities take on a magical glow. Street vendors offer an array of delicious Oaxacan treats, from tlayudas to chapulines, and we indulge in these local delicacies while soaking in the festive atmosphere. A sense of community is overwhelming, as locals and visitors alike come together to celebrate and honor Oaxaca's heritage.
Driving back to San Pedro Ixtlahuaca, we felt a deep sense of satisfaction, joy and pride. Guelaguetza is more than just a festival; it is a celebration of life, culture, and unity. It reminds us of the beauty of our traditions and the importance of coming together as a community.
Every year, this journey reaffirms our love for Oaxaca and its vibrant culture. We return home with hearts full of memories, eagerly awaiting the next Guelaguetza and the joy it will undoubtedly bring.
I will be sharing more, as the main, big parades have not begun yet.
My heart ached for the land in Oaxaca as we said our goodbyes to return to the USA for a month. The dry season seemed to be hanging on forever. I have a deep relationship with the plants and earth around our home. They seemed alive only by a miracle. I should have faith by now in the ancient cycles.
When we returned a few days ago, I saw everything turned green, and the neighbor plowed his corn field. Little green corn shoots are coming up. The rains are here for our wet season.
The trip to Santa Fe started a little rocky. When we went to the airport, protestors had closed the road into and out of the area, essentially shutting down operations. We had to go back home and try again the next day. After considerable doubtfulness, we embarked on the same flight we were supposed to take the previous day. Our neighbor Mayolo graciously was our driver.
For ten days Amy visited Minneapolis where her sister, two sons and her grandchildren live. Here in Mexico, she sometimes is sad that she is so far away from them. I saw my beloved daughter, Sarah, twice: for a hike in the mountains in Santa Fe, and visiting her in Albuquerque where she lives and works.
Home in Santa Fe I built 28 years ago. My ex-wife still lives there.
We accomplished a main objective of our trip⏤to downsize our storage unit and somehow condense our already concentrated possessions to a smaller, less expensive holding unit. We wish we could keep historical and highly sentimental belongings and keep our loved books in a second home. But real estate prices in Santa Fe were one of the reasons we left in the first place. If anything, they are more inflated now.
Santa Fe Cathedral in the heart of the city.
Our trip home went smoothly. The route is Santa Fe to Dallas, a few hour layover, and directly on to Oaxaca. Just before boarding in Dallas, I heard somebody call Amy’s name over the loudspeaker. She did not hear it. I told her, yes, you are being called. I hoped the full flight was not an issue . . . but we were being bumped up to 1st class. And that is how we returned.
View from our roof, after a recent rain.
Mayolo, Marta and their granddaughter Frida picked us up in our car and brought us home. Our house sitter had taken excellent care of our property and two dogs. I had expected a rush of gladness and excitement when our Xolo dog Malli greeted us. But she actually barked and ran away afraid. Within minutes all was well and tails wagged furiously and with plenty of kisses.
A highlight of our time together was El Museo del Tallador de Sueños; A haven of whimsy and wonder, it is small museum of magical woodcarvings called Alebrije´s. Located in Arrazola, the village neighbors ours.
The museum is a testament to the artistry and imagination of Oaxacan woodcarvers. What made this visit even more special is Amy's connection to the famous family of artists who own the museum. We are friends with the Jimenez family who own the museum. In fact, Amy made the illustrations for a book called Dream Carver published in the USA and made into a muppets play.
Now, a huge mural adorns the wall at the museum replicating her illustration from the book.
As our Taos friends marveled at the intricate carvings and vibrant hues of the Alebrijes, they couldn't help but be swept away by the enchantment of it all.
With carvings in hand, tangible mementos of their time together and the artistry of Oaxaca, they bid farewell to the museum, hearts brimming with newfound admiration for this corner of the world. The journey had not only rekindled old friendships but also deepened appreciation for the beauty that thrives in spaces between cultures and across borders.
We see masks often here in Oaxaca. There are many celebrations throughout the year when masks are worn along with a traditional costume.
Mexican masks have a rich history deeply intertwined with cultural and religious practices. These masks have been used since ancient times, dating back to 3000 B.C., initially by priests for summoning gods and during sacrifices. When the Spanish arrived, they introduced the devil to Mexico. Soon after, horns were added to the masks of native gods, transforming them into "devils" to promote Christianity. Devils often appeared alongside death at festive occasions. Yet, the Aztec underworld was not a place of punishment, thus, people were less fearful of death. The devil became a benign figure.
Amy and I made the 50 minute drive from our village to see the exhibit. For a Saturday, it was remarkably quiet. The building is grand and the grounds too. Climbing the grand, broad stairway in front, we entered the cavernous space full of masks. What a delight for two artists that love culture. Immediately we became engrossed, wandering off separately then recombining to marvel and discuss.
Masks, including devil masks, have been an integral part of Mexican cultural and religious life, with mask makers being revered members of society. Today, devil masks in Mexico retain features of ancient gods, showcasing a blend of pre-Hispanic history and Spanish influence. These masks are used in various dances and rituals, symbolizing a fusion of the two cultures and serving as a link between Mexico's past and present traditions.
Wearing masks during mystical, religious or communal celebrations is practiced across the globe.
Personally, I have always enjoyed masks and own a small collection of African, Asian and Venetian masks.
My brother from Santa Barbara, California is coming in a couple weeks to visit us. His wife is originally from Mexico. Amy and I will return with them and see the exhibit again.
Each year, Dia de Muertos, or Day of the Dead arrives to great fanfare in Oaxaca, Mexico. The holiday has indigenous roots and combines elements of pre-Hispanic beliefs with Catholicism, and is dedicated to honoring and remembering deceased loved ones.
Dia de Muertos occurs at the end of October and first 2 days of November. It is a a vibrant and deeply meaningful celebration⏤a traditional Mexican holiday celebrated throughout the country, particularly in the region of Oaxaca.
At this time, families create elaborate altars, known as "ofrendas," in their homes, adorned with marigold flowers, candles, photographs of the departed, and their favorite foods and drinks. These ofrendas are believed to help guide the spirits of the deceased back to the world of the living for a brief reunion with their families.
People also visit cemeteries to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones. Families gather to share stories and memories, and there is often music, dancing, and other festivities. The atmosphere is one of both reverence and joy, as it is believed that during Dia de Muertos, the boundary between the living and the dead is temporarily lifted, allowing for a special connection with those who have passed away.
In essence, Dia de Muertos in Oaxaca, Mexico, is a celebration of life and death, a time for families to come together, honor their ancestors, and celebrate the continuity of life beyond death. It's a unique blend of indigenous traditions and Catholicism, creating a rich tapestry of cultural significance and remembrance.
Our ofrenda, 2022
Today during our Sunday free art session for our neighbor children, we made decorated masks from gourd shells. Everyone worked happily on the project and went away with a creation to share with family and friends.
In the heartland of Mexico, where azure skies stretch over vast, rolling fields, a way of life has been intricately woven with the golden threads of corn. Our village of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca is on the outskirts of a worldwide cultural capital: Oaxaca. Our home is surrounded by corn fields that are planted in the beginning of the wet season that lasts from June through September. For generations, small farmers have depended on planting their corn crops, nurturing them with dedication. These farmers, often with weathered hands and faces etched with stories of perseverance, understand the dance between the heavens and their fields. Their hopes, dreams, and sustenance spring from the corn they sow. Yet, if the rains prove unkind during the critical growing season, these dreams are shattered, leaving behind daunting uncertainty.
This year all looked good and I could look out over the green rows of corn and breathe in the vibrancy. Two companions of corn are sown among the corn⏤pole beans and squash.
Then in mid September the rains stopped prematurely. It did not take long for the stalks to begin to wither. Unfortunately, now there is not much to harvest, and most of the fields will be fed to cattle.
The delicate balance upon which the lives of our neighbor farmers depend is fragile. The rhythm of their existence is dictated by the capriciousness of nature, specifically the rainfall during the growing season. If rains prove to be scant, the corn crops suffer. The once vibrant emerald green fields wither under the scorching sun, and the once-promising stalks stand stunted, bearing the weight of dashed hopes. In these moments, the very essence of life as they know it hangs in the balance.
In rural landscapes of Mexico, small-scale agriculture is not merely a livelihood; it is a heritage passed down through generations. Families rise with the sun, hands calloused from tending the soil, planting the seeds of their hopes within the nurturing earth. Among these seeds, maÃz holds a special place. It is not just a crop; it is a cultural icon, a symbol of resilience, and source of sustenance. In the fields, the very essence of Mexican identity is rooted.
Not long ago, before climate change, more fields existed. Now, with all the uncertainty, land is being sold in lots, called “lotes.” As Amy and I drive to town, we see a plenitude of signs vending lots for sale. Already numerous lots have been sold around us.
Small farmers, with unwavering spirit and deep connection to the land, continue to plant their seeds, nurturing the fragile promise of a better tomorrow. But, perhaps new techniques are needed to continue production of the sacred maÃz. Hope must be found, rising like a resilient sprout through the hardened cracks in the parched Tierra Madre, our mother, the Earth.
As we moved between two countries, we carried with us a beautiful blend of cultures, traditions, and experiences. We know that home is not confined to a single place; rather, it is a tapestry woven from the threads of the people we love and the memories we hold dear. Our hearts now span across borders, and we find ourselves at ease in both Mexico's vibrant embrace and Santa Fe's familiar allure.
In this journey between places, we've come to realize that we are incredibly fortunate to have the best of both worlds. Mexico, with its soulful and sincere friendships, teaches us the value of human connections and endless possibilities for adventure. On the other hand, Santa Fe and Taos, with their cosmopolitan charm, upscale culture, the beloved landscape with its great vistas and soaring mountains, and many dear relationships, reminds us of our deep roots there and growth that came with years of living.
Home is more than just a physical place; it's a feeling of belonging, love, and nostalgia. For Amy and me, “Old” Mexico and “New” Mexico are home. For four decades we made a beautiful life in Santa Fe, New Mexico, a famous city in the USA on the forefront of creativity and cultural diversity. For some of that time, Amy lived in Taos, the place of her ancestors and rich intersection between Spanish, Native American and Anglo cultures.
Recently for one month, we embarked on a sojourn from Mexico where we presently live, back to our former home, and the experience was nothing short of marvelous. Amy also visited her family in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She stayed with her sister and oldest son and spent time with her two sons and four grandchildren. We are fortunate to experience the best of both worlds.
My daughter Sarah and I
We bought our home near Oaxaca about 3 1/2 years ago. It is the reason we arrived in Mexico. The house is soulful, and called us to purchase it. We soon realized the challenges that come with moving into a foreign culture; especially since we live in a pueblo that is poor by American standards. I could write a book about the experience thus far.
Living in a country with a language distinct from our mother tongue has presented tests, but also teaches the value of communication beyond words. The warmth of a smile, the laughter shared over a meal, and the genuine care and concern for one another transcend linguistic barriers. In Mexico, we find a place where simplicity and genuine connections hold more significance than material wealth.
Stream in the Rio Grande Gorge, New Mexico
Returning to Santa Fe felt like revisiting the past and reconnecting with old friends. The familiarity of the English language was a comfort, and being surrounded by familiar faces was a heartwarming experience. Our sojourn allowed us to reminisce about the years gone by and cherish our lasting friendships that transcend time and distance. We met with so much kindness and generosity. Further, we brought back to Mexico donated gifts of art materials to share with our neighbor children in our pueblo.
Amy with neighbor kids
Our story is one of love, appreciation, and the beauty of living between two worlds. While Mexico, our humble and beloved home, provides us with soulful and sincere connections, Santa Fe, our former abode in the wealthy USA, offers us the warmth of familiar faces and a history filled with fond memories. As we continue our journey through life, we carry with us the best of both worlds, forever grateful for the unique and cherished places that have shaped us into who we are today.
As we bid farewell to Santa Fe, and prepare to return to our beloved Oaxaca, Mexico, our hearts are filled with gladness. We carry with us not only cherished memories and experiences but also the kindness and love of the friends who have embraced us throughout our journey. They have touched our lives in profound ways, leaving an indelible mark on our hearts, reminding us of the power of human connection and the beauty of genuine relationships.
Not once in our month sojourn did we have to stay in a hotel or rent accommodations. Friends provided everything we needed and ensured our comfort.
Amy's mural
I have many life experiences associated with Santa Fe, having lived in “The City Different’ for over four decades. Amy too, but especially the nearby city of Taos where her family ancestry goes back four centuries. This return felt invigorating, especially stepping back into a very clean world with all the amenities and opportunities that do not exist where we live now.
We went to Taos overnight. It is where Amy spent many years and is the land of her ancestors. While there we visited her enormous mural on the side of a wall at the University of New Mexico. Amy then went north—to Minneapolis-St.Paul for two weeks to visit with family and do some work. After she left, I had the opportunity to see my beloved daughter Sarah who lives an hour away, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. We went to the zoo there. The day was so hot that most of the animals were hiding or resting lethargically in the shade, but we enjoyed ourselves and rejoiced in our togetherness.
I had an opportunity to experience the annual Santa Fe Folk Art Festival that draws artists and craftspeople from all over the globe for one weekend. It is a celebration of cultural diversity.
Santa Fe has a vibrant summer music scene and many nights are alive with free concerts for the community. We discovered the joy of dancing to music alongside fellow residents, joining in the celebrations at free venues located in the charming rail yard and lively plaza. These moments of shared revelry were a testament to the unity and camaraderie that define this city. Traveling bands come from all around to play. While Amy was gone, I went alone to hear the music and often ran into people from my past that I had forgotten.
Sarah at Albuquerque Zoo
I had time for walks in the National forest in the mountains above Santa Fe, and to drive into the Rio Grande Gorge and follow the river for awhile. The days have been exceedingly hot, so it was cool respite to find a stream where I could sit in a pool by boulders under cascading water.
Generous souls have donated art supplies for us to take back to the children we serve in our pueblo. We have two suitcases full of materials and projects.
During our time in Santa Fe, we embarked on various endeavors that required our attention. Among them was the task of selling items we had been storing, which provided an opportunity to declutter and move forward with renewed purpose.
The time in Santa Fe, New Mexico, has been nothing short of magical. The kindness and love of friends, breathtaking landscapes, the vibrant community, and the invaluable moments of reconnection have shaped this chapter of my life into an unforgettable tale. In parting, we acknowledge the true spirit of reciprocity and gratitude, for our dear friends have bestowed upon us gifts to share with our neighbors in our humble pueblo in Oaxaca. As we journey back to our Mexican abode, we carry these offerings as a symbol of the interconnectedness we have fostered during our time in Santa Fe. It is through the act of giving and sharing that we can create a ripple effect of kindness, extending the love we have received to those around us.
With my friend Paul White on left
As I bid adieu to this remarkable city, I am reminded that it is the people and the relationships we cultivate that truly make a place feel like home. Santa Fe will forever hold a special place in my heart, and I carry with me the lessons learned and the love shared as I embark on the next chapter of my fairytale life.
