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Archive for the ‘Transportation’ Category

4:40 PM - Bloqueo by motos at  the corner of Morelos & Crespo

4:45 PM – Bloqueo (blockade) by moto-taxis at the corner of Morelos & Crespo

5:10 PM - Lucha Libre presentation at Oaxaca Lending Library by artist Charles Barth

5:10 PM – Lucha Libre presentation at Oaxaca Lending Library by artist and Lucha Libre fan, Charles Barth

6:50 PM - Fire above Xoxocotlán seen from Casita Colibrí.

6:45 PM – Fire above Xoxocotlán seen from Casita Colibrí.

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Besides skeletons, my grandson is obsessed with the movie Cars.  While I was visiting, catastrophe struck (at least, in the mind of an almost 3-year old) — one of his Lightning McQueen cars disappeared!

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Leo, I think I found “Queen” — alive and well and parked on Calle Matamoros.

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Adiós to 2014.  It was another year filled with the always amazing and often surprising sights and sounds of Oaxaca.

January – The new year began with a Quinceañera at Iglesia Sangre de Cristo on the Macedonio Alcalá.

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February – Most of the month was spent in California and New York, but returned to Oaxaca sun, blue sky, and buildings with character.

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March – Ahhh… the flowers, the boys, and the girls of the “only in Oaxaca” Paseo de los Viernes de Cuaresma.IMG_2401

April – The banners of the Procesión del Silencio (Procession of Silence) on Good Friday during Semana Santa (Holy Week).

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May – Karen and Jasen Willenbrink exhibition at Gorilla Gallery.

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June – Pretty in pink, a protest by tuk-tuks (moto-taxis) on the zócalo.

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July – Up into the Sierra Norte for the Feria Regional de Hongos Silvestres (Wild mushrooms fair) in San Antonio Cuajimoloyas.

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August – Mini Guelaguetza sponsored by the Instituto Mexicano del Seguro Social (IMSS) on the Plaza de la Danza.

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September – A rainy morning walk up to the presa (dam), Piedra Azul in Teotitlán del Valle.

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October – Day of the Dead tapetes de arena in progress on the Plaza de la Danza.

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November – Ofrenda in San Pablo Villa de Mitla with the village’s traditional and intricately decorated pan de muerto.

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December – Nochebuenas (poinsettias) for sale at mercado Sánchez Pascuas.

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Muchisimas gracias to all my wonderful 2014 blog readers! I am blown away that people from 125 countries have stopped by View from Casita Colibrí this year.  Your presence, comments, and encouragement have been SO very much appreciated.

¡Feliz año nuevo a tod@s!  I can’t wait to see what 2015 will bring.

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In the 5+ years that I have been living here, Oaxaca has become much more bike friendly.  It’s a good thing too, because traffic, even without the bloqueos (blockades), has gotten much worse.  I mentioned last Sunday we had to detour due to a bike race and passed these spandex warriors, out for a Sunday ride.

2 guys in spandex on country road

In the city, the narrow streets, often with double-parked vehicles, weren’t designed for a growing middle class and their desire for cars.  However, poco a poco (little by little), accommodations are being made to achieve a modicum of safety and peaceful co-existence between cars and bikes.  Bike racks began appearing in early summer.

Bike racks

And, much to my amazement, a couple of weeks ago, I saw actual bike lanes.  Wonders will never cease!!!

Bike lane:  "BICI" spelled out with line drawing of a bike

However, I’m not exactly sure what someone is trying to say, here.  (Update:  thanks to some helpful blog readers, I have sadly been informed, “a white bike is put where someone has been killed on a bike.  They are called “ghost bikes”.

Bike near top of street light

Bike on, mis amigas y amigos… even in the rain… Mother Nature will thank you!

Bike riders on wet cobblestone street

If you are in Oaxaca and like to ride, you might want to check out “Oaxaca es más bella en bicicleta” (Oaxaca is More Beautiful on a Bicycle) on Wednesdays and Fridays from 9 PM to 10:30 PM.  They meet in front of Santo Domingo church.  There is also a Sunday ride from the city to Santa María del Tule.

Update:  Larry G. reminded me that OaxacaMTB.org is a great resource for those interested in mountain biking in Oaxaca.

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Last Monday, as I previously wrote, my bus ride home was rudely interrupted by a bloqueo (blockade).  Initially, this is how I felt…

Skeleton in robes painted on wall

Without any other options, I found myself walking along Calzada Madero.

Spider painted on railroad car

and found murals painted on old railroad cars…

Cat face painted on railroad car

in the yard of the old railroad station, now the Museo del Ferrocarril Mexicano del Sur.

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By the time another bus finally came by, I felt much more like this…

Tranquil female face painted on side of building

Sighhh…  good ol’ Oaxaca, you just never know what you will stumble upon.

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Last Monday, L and I had a leisurely hike up the hill from my apartment to the Guelaguetza Auditorium, sat in stadium seats almost 20 rows up, looking down on the enormous circular concrete stage with the city and mountains providing a picturesque backdrop.

Yesterday, I hopped on a bus, heading for another Guelaguetza performance, this time in Villa de Etla.  However, a bloqueo (blockade) by Sección 22 of the teachers’ union had the bus turning around, doubling back, and taking a circuitous route that eventually wound its way through the narrow streets of Santa Rosa.  Once we got back on the main road, I transferred to a colectivo and arrived in Etla just as the dancing was about to begin — this time on a small temporary wood-plank stage, that seemed to shake with every dance step.  The setting wasn’t quite as spectacular, but, there I was, within an arm’s reach of the dancers!

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Danza de la Pluma

Danza de la Pluma

 

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Flor de Piña

With the exception of the Danza de la Pluma, these dancers are from a folkloric group that performs each of the traditional regional dances.   As you can see from their faces, they dance with as much joy and pride as the delegations from the villages at the big Guelaguetza.

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Returning home was its own adventure.  Last week, L and I only had to navigate sidewalks, pathways, and stairs along with the other 11,000 attendees.  Yesterday, Chris (see his Guelaguetza in Etla – 2014 post) gave me a ride to a bus stop where, after about 10 minutes, I caught the bus that would deposit me a half block from Casita Colibrí.  Alas, the best laid plans…  Just before the intersection up to Cerro Fortín, masked maestros (teachers) surrounded the bus, our driver shrugged, opened the doors, and off we passengers got.  It was hot, I was tired, but what else was there to do?  I hoofed it to halfway between the Museo del Ferrocarril (Railroad Museum) and Morelos Park, when another bus materialized, I climbed aboard, giving my feet a much-needed rest, and let the driver navigate the clogged streets that took me back to home sweet home.

It was a fun and frustrating AND exhilarating and exhausting kind of day.

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Late Friday morning, I boarded an ADO GL bus bound for Mexico City to rendezvous with L (a BFF since age 12), who was arriving from Colorado.  For anyone laboring under the myth of the “chicken bus,” I will dispel the stereotype right now.

ADO’s GL and Platino buses are like flying first class (minus the attendant) — the height of luxury and a considerable contrast for anyone who has had the misfortune of taking a cross-country bus ride in the USA.  They are comfortable and well maintained; have men’s and women’s WCs and hot water for the tea bag or instant coffee packet passengers are given when they board.  (We also received a bottle of water or soft drink of our choice and ear buds for the movies that are shown on drop down screens.)  The drivers are professional and miraculously manage to make the drive over one of the formidable mountain ranges that surrounds Oaxaca, a smooth one.

Of course, this is Mexico and at the two-hour mark, break-time for the driver meant pulling over on a mountain road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, where vendors awaited.

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The views along the Carretera Internacional 135D and 150D were spectacular, as the bus wound its way through Oaxaca’s rugged Mixteca region and down into rolling countryside of the state of Puebla.

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From the air and from the road, the sight of Pico de Orizaba always takes my breath away.  At 18,491 feet (5,636 meters) above sea level, Citlaltépetl (its Nahuatl name) is the third highest peak in North America, trailing only Denali in Alaska (20,237 feet) and Mount Logan in the Yukon (19,551 feet).

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The highway flattened out and rich farmland emerged.

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Eventually, signs of the largest metropolitan area in the western hemisphere came into view.

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A little less than six and a half hours after I left Oaxaca, the bus deposited me and my fellow passengers off at Mexico City’s TAPO bus terminal.  I purchased my ticket for a “secure” taxi, an attendant hailed the next cab, my luggage was loaded into the trunk, and off I went to the hotel and my waiting BFF.

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Today the City of Oaxaca celebrates 482 years as a colonial city.  (*** See below for a little history.)  The day began at 6 AM with the ringing of the Cathedral’s bells, the singing of Mañanitas Oaxaqueñas, and marimbas and tamales on the Alameda de León. Alas, that was a little early for me to be up, dressed, and downtown.  However, all I had to do was step out on my terrace to watch the next event of the day.

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Five Pilatus PC7 Mexican Air Force planes put on a  show over the city.

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They made several passes over the city.

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For their finale, contrails displayed the green, white, and red of the Mexican flag.

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And then they were gone.  I love how Noticias concludes their report,  “After 45 minutes, the ‘steel birds’ returned to their base, pending a new appeal to challenge gravity.”

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Celebrations continue through May 8 and a schedule of events can be found HERE.

*** In 1532 Spanish settlers (their bloody way paved by Hernán Cortés and his conquistadores) successfully petitioned the Queen of Spain for a land grant of 1 square league.  The colonists had already established their own town on the site of Huaxyacac, renamed it Antequera (after an old Roman city  in Spain) and received a Royal Charter from King Charles I of Spain. However, Cortés had successfully gotten the entire Valley of Oaxaca (hundreds of thousands of acres) declared as his own private marquisate and, his greed knowing no bounds, kept trying to evict the colonial townspeople.  By obtaining the queen’s charter, this end-run around Cortés insured the rights of the townspeople to the land.

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What are you driving these days?  Size doesn’t matter when it comes to cool rides in Oaxaca…

The question is, do you dance with wolves while driving?

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Navigating through traffic in Oaxaca, you just never know what you will see…

Boy on motorcycle holding keyboard

¡¡¡Cuidado!!!

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Por favor, never come between a boy and his keyboard.

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I’m back up in el norte for a brief “taking care of business” trip.   And, sheesh, it’s SO quiet on this western front.  No fireworks.  No clanging chains of the propane tank vendor.  No bands playing in the streets.  No loudspeakers.  And, no shrill sound of the steam whistle heralding the arrival of the camote man.

Camote vendorEvery evening, he wheels his cart through the streets of Oaxaca selling sweet potatoes and plantains sweetened with sugar and drizzled with condensed milk.  They are cooked in a pressure-cooker-like contraption that is heated by a small wood fire in the metal drum below.  The iconic sound comes from the hot steam being released from the cooker.

If you have a sweet tooth, follow the whistle for a yummy dessert treat!

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Down to Mercado de Abastos late this morning to catch a colectivo out to Etla.  I’ve actually come to enjoy the 10-block walk through this definitely not-spiffed-up-for-tourist-consumption neighborhood.  However, crossing the Periferico Sur is another story!  Cars, taxis, colectivos, buses, trucks, motorcycles, hand-trucks, and pedestrians all in motion or poised to move.  Did I mention the potholes ready to swallow people and vehicles?  There is a pedestrian bridge a block down the street, but what’s the fun in that?

Needless to say, we all need all the help we can get!  I think my colectivo driver had all his bases covered, invoking Mexico’s “Holy Trinity” — La Virgen de Guadalupe, Jesús crucificado, and patriotismo.

Virgin of Guadalupe, crucifix, 2 Mexican flags on rear view mirror

Of course he had the rear view mirror covered, too!

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Ahhh…  I’m back in my new and improved Casita Colibrí.  Friday night, with lightning flashing all around the Embraer, my fellow passengers and I bounced our way across Mexico and back to Oaxaca.  Gracias, Hurricane Erick for Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride!  With appreciation and relief, spontaneous applause erupted when the little plane landed.

There have been many changes in the 7 weeks I’d been gone…  Juan finished the screens on my doors and windows; they are beautifully made and not a single mosquito has been seen or heard!  I left at the end of the dry season; golden-brown hills and fields and a constant coating of dust dulled nature’s and human-applied colors.  I returned to the lush green hills and fields of the rainy season and the lustrous green leaves and red-orange blossoms of my African tulip trees.

And, new street art gleamed…

Oaxaca in technicolor!

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On another glorious day in Mill Valley…

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There’s a high flyin’ [blimp], flying way up in the sky,

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I wonder if she looks down as she goes on by?

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Apparently, her name is Despicable Me 2.  It’s all about the advertising and, grrr, I’ve fallen into their trap.

Only four more days, and I’ll be leaving on a jet plane, on my way back to Oaxaca!

(Apologies to Billy Edd Wheeler for borrowing a few lines from “High Flyin’ Bird” and to Richie Havens and his sublime version of it.)

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After the 3-day moving adventure, Monday morning I walked down to the Transporte Terrestre office (next to Oaxaca’s Post Office, across the Alameda from the Cathedral) to buy an airport shuttle ticket for my Tuesday morning, bordering on crack-of-dawn, flight to California.  At 55 pesos (less than $4.50 US) from my apartment in the Centro Histórico (more outside the historic district), it’s a bargain.

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The driver pulled up at 6 AM on the dot.  Unfortunately, instead of ringing my buzzer, he began banging on the massive iron front gate and shouting, thereby waking my neighbors with apartments closer to the gate.  Then, of course, there was the fact that, in my physically and (apparently) mentally exhausted state the night before, I’d set my alarm for the wrong time, and had only awakened 20 minutes before his noisy arrival. So, with teeth brushed but no shower, no make-up, and probably irritated neighbors, I set off for el norte.  This trip was not off to a promising start!

The other two passengers and I were dropped off at the Oaxaca Xoxocotlán International Airport’s new departure terminal.  Modern, light, airy, signs and announcements in Spanish and English, mezcal and gift shops (but no food!) — everything’s up-to-date in Oaxaca’s new departure terminal.

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However, one still must walk outside to get to the old terminal (now dedicated to arrivals) where the only bathrooms, before going through security, are located — a minor hiccup for passengers, but a major inconvenience for airport staff!  Renovation connecting the two terminals is in the works.

There were only a couple of other people lined up at United’s desk and my turn came in less than 5 minutes.  Hoisting my suitcase up on the scale, handing over my passport and flight information, I was prepared to be on my way through security in no time.

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Dream on…  for some unexplained reason, the United customer service agent did not like what she saw when she ran my passport through the scanner.  Conversation with the other agent, calls to a superior (who I could see standing in a doorway on the second floor balcony), more computer input and passport scanning, and the line behind me began growing.  Did I mention, this trip was not off to a promising start?

After twenty minutes, whatever problem my passport possessed was miraculously unraveled and I was on my way through security.  It was at this point, ravenously hungry, I began silently chanting to the cocina goddess, that a food stall or at least the convenience store would be open.  In September (my first experience with the new terminal) I sat, with stomach grumbling, at my gate for an hour before the convenience store opened its doors.

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This time around, I and other early morning passengers were in luck — various puestos were open to satisfy hunger pangs, snack food cravings, and caffeine withdrawal.  I opted for a generous and delicious cup of coffee and a ham and quesillo torta, topped with tomato, avocado, chile pepper, and lettuce — filling and yummy.

With a happily satisfied stomach, I walked out into Oaxaca’s warm winter morning air, boarded the little Embraer, and, after a brief delay on the tarmac (mechanical difficulty rapidly solved), we took off into the wild (and clear) blue yonder.  Circling twice over the city to gain altitude, the pilot provided us with a couple of bird’s-eye views of Monte Albán and the newly opened Atzompa archeological sites.  Not a bad beginning, after all — the journey northward was definitely looking up!

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