Que un dia!

What a day! It started slow enough. We got up early-ish to go to the market nearby to get some veggies and some meat right when they butcher it so it’s not sitting around all day. Not much refrigeration, so get it early or don’t get it at all. A quick breakfast of fresh OJ (so delicious) and some bolillos at the market and then we pick up what we need. Avocados, pasilla peppers, corn masa, squash blossom (tastes like spinach), tomatillos, cilantro, pork loin and some chile marinated pork cutlets. $8 in all, not bad.

Then we hit the apartment to put the food up and head out for second breakfast. The place across from our apartment is always packed, so we wait a few minutes for a table. Sit down and get some coffee we are jonesing for. It is a madhouse and the waiter rattles off what they have. I ask him to speak slower to no avail. I understand enchiladas coloroditas, and I mumble something about eggs. A tamale comes by (not sure if it was ours) but we take it and eat it. One of the best I have eaten. Chicken, some light tomato sauce and peppers and piping hot. Then comes whatever we ‘ordered’. Mine is a flank steak on top of cheese enchiladas with a red mole. Brooke gets some eggs on top of the same. We scarf it down and then head to the Central Abastos.


Ah, the Abastos. On any given day it is the largest market I have ever been to. Anything you could want is there. Oh, but on Saturday it explodes into a living breathing organism of monumental proportions. The smells, the noise, the sights, everything is multiplied by several factors. You start getting near and you feel the energy level rising. Stores, hawkers, buses, cars, people everywhere. We wander along the periphery and run into the livestock section (the petting zoo as Brooke likes to think of it). Big goats butting horns, baby goats, big pigs with their foot on a leash, little piglets sleeping in a pile, chickens, bunnies, you name it. I would have loved to have taken a picture but I didn’t want to be ‘that guy’. Furniture vendors, ceramics, rugs, clothes, shoes (my god the amount of shoes), fruits, veggies, meats, bootleg CDs & DvDs, peppers, spices, honey, toys, housewares, tools, plastic crap. And mangoes, 2.5 pounds for $1.50, viva Oaxaca! This place is a labyrinth, dirt floors, marble floors, wood floors, covered, not covered; it is just a maze and wandering about in any direction is just a blast. It is like being lost in the forest, ‘didn’t we just pass this section of baby clothes, or is it different from the last one’? Somehow we found our plate guy Miguel. We always seem to find him and we have bought plates from him the last couple of times, and wanted to add to our collection. A couple of plates, bowls, coffee cups and some shot glasses for use sooner rather than later. Using the sun and some landmarks on the surrounding hills we find our way out and lug our crap back to our room just in time to beat the afternoon rain. Siessstaaa zzzzz…..


Hanging out absorbing the day. The owner comes by and we pay her what we owe. She mentions some things going on that night, a parade and what not, and we make a casual note of it. We make some guac and chorizo and have some mango margaritas on our rooftop deck. Feeling good we wander down to the center with the goal of getting coffee and checking out what is going on. We find some good organic coffee, 1 mission accomplished. We walk a couple of blocks and then IT IS ON.




Dancers, music, costumes, fireworks, holy crap it is a giant parade coming down the street. It is all the people participating in the Guelaguetza parading down the street. The only way I can describe it is like Mardi Gras and 4th of July but with less breasts and flags respectively. Every troupe has their own costumes and their own music and their own dance. The crazy thing is, that everyone watching seemed to know the dances and joined in at various points. I was dragged into the melee to dance and then Brooke got lassoed in as well, good fun. The parade went on, costumes, music, people, it was just indescribable. I could use another beer at this point, but lo and behold, what is this, guy with bottle of Mezcal? offering me a shot, viva! He had a clear bottle and individual plastic shot glasses. there we go, much better. Uh, oh, my mouth is numb, oh well, just go with it. In typical Mexican fashion, the parade route is poorly planned out. It gets stopped up and we end up having to walk down to catch everything. It is great though. Around the Zocalo things don’t stop. Another dance troupe, a Capoera troupe (Brazillian dance, look it up), BMX demonstration more dancing. We hang out and grab a beer in the Zocalo. I pick up some earrings for Brooke because they are beautiful, only $1 and because the little boy selling them melts her heart.


Ok, so the night is winding down and we head home. We buy some ice cream, I give her 100 pesos and get 120 pesos in return. Alright, I get ripped off the other way for once. This is my karmic reward for getting counterfeit money from a vendor in Guatemala. Down the street, another dance troupe is performing. They men are stomping and making a racket dancing with their beautiful women in their dresses. At several interludes the men and women shout dirty love limericks at each other that pleases the crowd immensely. They finish up and we go home.

And as we end the night on the rooftop, a beer, a shot of Tequila and some fireworks as music plays in the background and the night fades away.