Many years ago, I attended a benefit sale at Galería La Mano Mágica to raise money to enable famed ceramicist Josefina Aguilar to have cataract surgery. My eyes were immediately drawn to a sculpture by her granddaughter, Fran Garcia Vásquez. I bought it and the Tehuana sculpture remains one of my most treasured pieces — though she has had her ups and downs.
The 8.2 earthquake in September 2017 resulted in a broken arm. It was a clean break and I was able to make the repair.
Alas, in June 2020 (due to my carelessness), she suffered more serious injuries — the extent of which were well beyond my abilities to mend. She and all her pieces were carefully cushioned in a box and there she lay through the worst of the pandemic and my move to Barrio de Jalatlaco.
It was only a month or so ago that it dawned on me to contact her creator, Fran Garcia Vásquez to ask if she could repair my sculpture — after all, she had the clay, paint, and expertise! She readily agreed and on March 13, I took my treasured Tehuana to the workshop she shares with family members in Ocotlán de Morelos (Av. Morelos #428). Five days later, the repair had been completed and she brought the sculpture to my home.
Fran Garcia Vásquez
When Fran unwrapped and placed the Tehuana in my hands, I must admit I became a little teary eyed. The sculpture is as good as new and looks proud and serene in her new home.
March 19 was Día de las Artesanas y los Artesanos in Mexico and the entire month of March is designated “Month of the Artisan.” I want to thank all of them deeply for carrying on, often renewing, and always enriching traditions with their own creative spirit.
The day before yesterday, there was water, water everywhere and lots of drops to drink! It was the fourth Friday of Lent, Día de la Samaritana, an “only in Oaxaca” celebration.
Xocote restaurant on Calle Antequera, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
The Day of the Good Samaritan was inspired by the Gospel of John story in the New Testament when a tired and thirsty Jesus, on his way to Galilee, asks a Samaritan woman at Jacob’s Well in Sychar for some water. The request was highly unusual because, according to the Old Testament, “Jews regarded the Samaritans as foreigners and their attitude was often hostile.” The woman complied with his request and the rest is history.
Laboratorio de Análisis Clínicos Qualis on 5 de mayo, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
Celebrating the Good Samaritan in Oaxaca began in the atria of churches at the end of the 19th century and is a popular and much-loved tradition. People of all ages, from small children to grandparents, line up at bougainvillea and palm decorated booths in front of churches, restaurants, businesses, and schools for the traditional Día de la Samaritana free flavored waters.
Santa Hierba restaurant, 5 de mayo, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
By noon, masses of people had gathered in the atrium of the local church, Templo de San Matías Jalatlaco, where two long rows of tables, under the shade of the tented atrium, were lined with massive bowls filled with colorful aguas on offer. However, I preferred to avoid the crowds and wander through the streets of my Jalatlaco neighborhood.
Miscelánea Tepeaca, 5 de mayo, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
By the way, we are not talking plain water, these are divinely flavored aguas frescas made with fresh fruits, herbs, flowers, and more — jamaica (hibiscus), horchata, chilacayote (squash), tamarindo, sandia (watermelon), and tejate.
Espacio Ermita Arte y Diseño, Calle Hidalgo, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
In the name of the environment, an appeal was made for people to bring their own cups. And, I think a majority complied!
Asador Bacanora, 5 de mayo, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
After almost two hours, three aguas, and being surrounded by smiling people enjoying this celebration of generosity, I returned home with my heart full of gratitude for this Oaxacan tradition. I love this day and the message it imparts and the way it brings neighbors together.
Should you find yourself in Llano Park early on a Friday morning during Lent, your senses will be assaulted with the cacophony of multiple bands (playing different tunes at the same time!), twirling marmotas, dancing monos, cheering students, young men loaded down with flowers, and young women dressed to the nines circling the statue of Benito Juárez.
Viernes del Llano (aka, Paseos Florales del Llano) is a fifty year old “only in Oaxaca” tradition held during the first five Fridays of Lent. Apparently, dating back to the 19th century, Oaxaca had a tradition, promoted by the church, of paying homage to women for the important role they play in the support of the family. The ritual died out, but was resurrected in the seventies by the Universidad Autónoma Benito Juárez de Oaxaca (UABJO) to recover “religious and family values.”
The tradition was put on hold during the pandemic, but is back in full force. I was in Teotitlán del Valle for this year’s first paseo but, along with my neighbor, attended the second one on March 3rd featuring Preparatoria 6. It must be a very large school as there were 85 participants.
The winners (photos below) were announced in five different categories — that in English translated (approximately) to: Miss Photogenic, Miss Social Media, Godmother of Flowers, Best Cheerleader, and Godmother of Friday.
While it is very colorful, joyous, fun to observe, and is a lucrative day for flower vendors, this article (in Spanish) raises some obvious questions, including: Is this tradition or sexism? And, is this something educational institutions should be promoting?
March 8 is International Women’s Day and in commemoration, photos of the women devils at San Martín Tilcajete’s Carnaval celebration. By the way, women devils are a recent and welcome innovation.
“The aim of the IWD 2023 #EmbraceEquity campaign theme is to get the world talking about Why equal opportunities aren’t enough. People start from different places, so true inclusion and belonging require equitable action.” (https://www.internationalwomensday.com/theme)
This afternoon, women and their supporters will take to the streets of Oaxaca not in celebration but to remember, commemorate, and raise awareness and respect for women raising their voices for equality and equity.
After a three year absence (two due to the pandemic and last year due to a blockade), blogger buddy Chris and I finally returned to San Martín Tilcajete to experience the mayhem and magic of their Carnaval (aka: Shrove Tuesday, Carnival, Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras) celebration. We arrived in the late morning and, thanks to an invitation from our friend Gabriel Sosa of Matlacihua Arte, we were just in time to visit several devils preparing to take to the streets.
There is face paint involved.
And, there is body paint — a mixture of vegetable oil (with the possible addition of motor oil) and the same powdered paint used on the intricately decorated masks and alebrije the village is famous for.
Preparation is definitely a cooperative activity.
There are also cowbells worn to issue a clamorous invitation to residents and visitors to join the festivities.
Once the finishing touches are completed — cowbells tied around each devil’s waist and paint touch-ups — they leave the family compound.
Once out on the dusty streets (it is the dry season) of San Martín Tilcajete, they join with other devils issuing their clanging invitation throughout the village and, occasionally “tagging” a suspecting or unsuspecting bystander with a little of their oil based paint.
A word to the wise, if you go, don’t wear your favorite clothes and especially, don’t wear white!
Día de Carnaval (aka, Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Carnival, day before the beginning of Lent) is coming in two days and, in order to promote the varying celebrations in the state of Oaxaca, the Secretaría de Fomento Turístico (Secretariat of the Promotion of Tourism) invited delegations from various villages in the state to showcase their unique traditions in a grand parade down the city’s walking street, Macedonio Alcalá. The costumes and body paint were outstanding, but it was the masks and faces that spoke to me.
My photos were from the gathering point at the Cruz de Piedra. The route proceeded down Macedonio Alcalá, turned right onto Morelos, and ended at the Plaza de la Danza. According to the poster promoting this wild, wacky, and surreal parade, participating delegations were from Chalcatongo de Hidalgo, Villa de Zaachila, San Blas Atempa, San Pedro Amuzgos, Santa Catarina Minas, Magdalena Teitipac, Santiago Juxtlahuaca, San Bartolo Coyotepec, San Juan Cacahuatepec, Santa Maria Zacatepec, San Pedro Totomachapam, San Andrés Huaxpaltepec, San Sebastián Tecomaxtlahuaca, Oaxaca de Juárez, and Santa María Coyotepec. I’m not sure if I saw them all, but I do know San Martín Tilcajete was also there — and that’s where I will be celebrating Día de Carnaval on Tuesday.
This morning I woke to the sound of music — a live trio singing traditional Mexican boleros drifted through an open window. Though it was 6:15 AM, I couldn’t help smiling at being awakened to romantic songs like these sung by Trio Los Panchos.
On this Valentine’s Day, known in Mexico as Día del Amor y la Amistad (Day of Love and Friendship), some much loved person was being serenaded.
Once the calendar turned to February, hearts, flowers, balloons, candy, and stuffed animals have been featured in windows and sidewalk vendor displays.
¡Feliz Día del Amor y la Amistad! And, because International Mother Language Day is coming up on February 21, learn to say “I love you” to lovers and friends in 7 of the 69 indigenous languages spoken in Mexico — including Zapoteco, Mixteco, and a couple of other languages spoken in Oaxaca.
The wedding industry is booming in Oaxaca and some of the biggest and most elaborate bodas (weddings) happen at the gold leaf laden Templo de Santo Domingo de Guzmán. While the doors of the church are closed to the public during the ceremony, all are welcome to enjoy the celebration that follows once the newly married couple emerges through the massive wooden doors. Wedding planners provide traditional wedding calendas (parades) that include a brass band, bride and groom monos, marmotas emblazoned with the couple’s first names, dancers dressed in regional costumes, and often mezcal! This was one of last Saturday’s contributions…
Bride mono alongside a perro piñata.
Marmota waiting to be twirled in celebration of Marcela and Alonso’s boda.
Istmo dancers waiting with mezcal and canutos de carrizo necklaces to drink it from.
China Oaxaqueña dancers and their canastas waiting in the shade.
Putla de Guerrero unmasked tiliche dancer with cell phone in hand before the calenda begins.
Needless to say, there is a lot of “hurry up and wait” for both participants and onlookers. The anticipation builds before the band strikes up tunes familiar to Oaxaqueños and anyone who has attended La Guelaguetza, the bride and groom step into the atrium, and the dancing begins.
Young marmota dancer and spectators with cameras.
The bride and groom emerge and dancing begins.
Flor de Piña dancers dancing with their pineapples.
Danza de la Pluma dancers and marmotas.
The band, dancers, bride, groom, and wedding guests will eventually dance their way down Oaxaca’s walking street, the Macedonio Alcalá (aka, Andador Turístico), stopping traffic at intersections and tourists on sidewalks, before arriving at the reception destination — wherever that may be. By the way, if you are wondering about the cost for all of this, according to this website, the price for a wedding with the reception at the beautiful Jardín Etnobotánico (originally part of the Santo Domingo convent complex) is 4,000 pesos per person. Doing the math: For 100 people, at the current exchange rate, that would be over $20,000 (US) — well above the price range for most Oaxaqueños but quite popular among the well-heeled destination wedding crowd.
One of the joys of living in Oaxaca de Juárez is being able to walk most everywhere I need to go. On this particular day, I headed 2 km. south to Veana Oaxaca Mayoreo in search of more plastic chairs for my terrace. Though the route, which took me down Calle de Xicoténcatl, wasn’t one I normally followed, nor along the most scenic and/or quaint of streets, it still had scenes to surprise and delight.
Given that my mission was successful, the young male sales clerk hoisted the six chairs I’d purchased and carried them half a block, where he set them down on the sidewalk at the next intersection, telling me this was the best location to hail a taxi. An empty taxi appeared within three minutes. More reasons why I love Oaxaca!
While I was in el norte, I had no worries about my plants, as I knew my neighbors A&P would take good care of them. It has taken me a week to unpack, put things away, clean (oh, the dust!), and get reacquainted with my garden’s flora and fauna.
I was surprised and delighted this tiny cactus welcomed me with one of its flowers.
Another delight was the presence of Eddie Lizard still hanging out on the outer side of the screen between the atrium and my office. He’s been here a month and a half!
A less welcome sight were these small caterpillars. Thankfully, P took on the task of picking them off with my garden tweezers. They have been munching on my Passion Flower leaves for months and I can’t figure out how to eradicate them. Any suggestions?
After being gone for a month, it’s good to be back home, be warm and dry, and enjoying my garden!
It has now been almost a month of wind, rain, and fifty shades of grey skies and I am more than ready to return to the land of light and color. In the meantime, I’m channeling the murals of Oaxaca’s Barrio de Xochimilco — where even greys come with rainbows of color.
2022 began with rainbows and ended with fab food, friends, and family — a good way to say hello and goodbye to a year that continued to bring serious challenges to this planet we call home. In my little Oaxaca corner of the world, the year had its circumstantial complexities but also was filled with visits from old friends, becoming more familiar with my Jalatlaco neighborhood, “any excuse gatherings” with my most excellent neighbors, and several adventures with BFFs in and out of the city.
January 13, 2022 – A rainbow surprise from my rooftop terrace in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
February 19, 2022 – Efedefroy stencil outside Xiguela Tienda, Barrio de Jalatlaco.
March 23, 2022 – Classic car on a street in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
April 12, 2022 – Agave quiote decorating the outside of Templo de San Matías Jalatlaco.
May 30, 2022 – Rainy day streets in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
June 4, 2022 – Found objects art on the rooftop of Restaurant Oaxaca Mía, Teotitlán del Valle.
July 15, 2022 – Grasshopper on my rooftop terrace in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
August 27, 2022 – Calenda dancing its way along the streets of Barrio de Jalatlaco.
September 29, 2022 – Chiles en Nogada at Casa Oaxaca Reforma.
October 28, 2022 – Spiffed up La Hormiga food trailer at Conzatti Park.
November 6, 2022 – Murals at the entrance to Barrio de Xochimilco in Oaxaca.
November 6, 2022 – Ensalada Tehuana at La Biznaga on the corner of Magarita Maza and Benito Juárez (one of my favorite intersections).
Words can’t begin to express how grateful I am to you all for reading, commenting, and following my blog. You kept me going during the worst days of the pandemic and continue to inspire me. Thus, my 2023 wish for you is…
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder You get your fill to eat But always keep that hunger May you never take one single breath for granted God forbid love ever leave you empty handed I hope you still feel small When you stand by the ocean Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance I hope you dance I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance Never settle for the path of least resistance Living might mean taking chances But they’re worth taking Lovin’ might be a mistake But it’s worth making Don’t let some hell bent heart Leave you bitter When you come close to selling out Reconsider Give the heavens above More than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion always) I hope you dance (Rolling us along) I hope you dance (Tell me who) I hope you dance (Wants to look back on their youth and wonder) (Where those years have gone)
I hope you still feel small When you stand by the ocean Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance Dance I hope you dance I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion, always) I hope you dance (Rolling us along) I hope you dance (Tell me who) (Wants to look back on their youth and wonder) I hope you dance (Where those years have gone)
(Tell me who) I hope you dance (Wants to look back on their youth and wonder) (Where those years have gone)
It’s the night before Christmas and, for the first time in three years, I’m spending it with family in the San Francisco Bay Area. The Christmas tree lot has been visited, a Douglas Fir has been purchased (albeit half the size of years past due to extreme sticker shock), four generations of ornaments have been brought down from the attic, the tree decorated, and stockings hung on the mantle. I love being in my childhood home with family but must admit to missing the resumption of Noche de Rabanos on the zócalo of Oaxaca city and posadas in my Jalatlaco neighborhood.
However, all thoughts of festivities in Oaxaca will take a back door to hosting our Christmas morning tradition of mimosas and æbleskiver (Danish pancake balls) with family and friends, followed by a prime rib with Yorkshire pudding dinner served on my grandmother’s beautiful Lenox china and using my mother’s sterling silverware. And, warming my heart the most, the good natured teasing, laughing, and hugging shared with family and old friends.
However, no matter where I am, today is time for my blog’s Christmas Eve’s Pancho Claus tradition…
La Noche Before Christmas
’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa, Not a creature was stirring, My goodness! ¿Qué pasa? The children were all tucked away in their camas, The girls in their sleepers, the boys in piyamas.
The stockings were hung, with mucho cuidado, In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado, To bring all the children, both buenos y malos, Muchísimo candy, and other regalos.
When out in the yard there arose tanto grito, That I jumped to my feet like a scaredy-gatito. I ran to the window and looked out afuera, And who in the world do you think that it era?
Saint Nick on his sleigh in a big red sombrero, Came dashing toward me like a loco bombero. And pulling his sleigh, instead of venados, Were eight little burros venir-ing volados!
I watched as they came and this kindhearted hombre, Was whistling and shouting and calling por nombre: “¡Ay Pancho, ay Cisco, ay Chuy, ay Flaco!” “¡Ay Bella, Estrella, Chiquita y Paco!”
Then he jumped off his sleigh with his hands on his pecho, After landing on top of our very own techo. And struggling to squeeze down our old chimenea, He bounced off the hearth like a bowl of jalea.
Now huffing and puffing at last in our sala, With soot smeared all over his vestido de gala, He filled all the stockings with buenos regalos, For none of the niños had been muy malos.
Then chuckling aloud feeling muy contento, He turned in a flash and was gone like el viento. And I heard him exclaim, y es la verdad, “Merry Christmas to all, y ¡Feliz Navidad!”
***Inspired by the poem “A Visit From St. Nicholas” by Clement C. Moore, 1822, and by the original song and lyrics “Pancho Claus” by Lalo Guerrero, 1956 (with permission from the estate of Lalo Guerrero). Conceived of and written as “The Noche Before Christmas”, (date/author/copyright uncertain, c. 1956-2001?). This revision by Bill Stryker and Norma Verdugo Stryker, 2019 (Copyright Registration Number TXu002156234) was introduced on my last year’s La Noche Before Christmas blog.
For an added treat, the original 1956 “Pancho Claus” recording by Lalo Guerrero.
December 18th is a day fit for a queen. It is the day Oaxaca honors her patroness and queen, La Santísima Virgen de la Soledad (Our Lady of Solitude). Always rendered with hands clasped in prayer, this portrayal of the Virgin Mary contemplates the death of her son.
Image of La Virgen de la Soledad on a garden altar at Almú restaurant in San Martín Tilcajete, Oaxaca.
Image of La Virgen de la Soledad at a grave site in Tlacolula de Matamoros, Oaxaca.
La Virgen de la Soledad painted into the crevice of an Indian Laurel tree in the Zócalo of Oaxaca city.
Though currently 2000 miles away from my Oaxaca home, I’m sending happy feast day wishes to Our Lady of Solitude and the people of Oaxaca.
Mexican Peso Converter
View From Casita Colibrí 