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Posts Tagged ‘popular travel destinations’

It’s halftime in Oaxaca and all is quiet.

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Local vendors are selling food, drink and paraphernalia. Though El Financiero is reporting that grocery chain Soriana is temporarily closing some of their stores in Oaxaca and Chiapas, blaming blockades and security concerns.

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The teams have retired to their respective locker rooms to tend to the wounded and bury the dead (literally).

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Mascots continue to fire up their supporters in a war of Tweets, Facebook posts, and media talking heads…

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As fans (fanáticos en español) await the resumption of play.

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But, all most Oaxaqueños want is a peaceful and fair end to this infernal battle.  Let’s hope something can be worked out when negotiations resume on Monday.

During this lull, English speaking readers might want to check out Dave Miller’s blog and/or listen to an interview with Laura Carlsen (Center for International Policy) for background on the issues involved between the education workers and the government.

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Happy Father’s Day (Día del Padre) to the loving fathers (biological, adoptive, and step), grandfathers, and father figures everywhere.

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Color Him Father
(click on link for Keb Mo performing The Winstons old song)

There’s a man at my house he’s so big and strong

He goes to work each day, stays all day long

He comes home each night looking tired and beat

He sits down at the dinner table and has a bite to eat

Never a frown always a smile

When he says to me how’s my child

I’ve been studying hard all day in school

Tryin’ to understand the golden rule

Think I’ll color this man father

I think I’ll color him love

Said I’m gonna color him father

I think I’ll color the man love, yes I will

He says education is the thing if you wanna compete

Because without it son, life ain’t very sweet

I love this man I don’t know why

Except I’ll need his strength till the day that I die

My mother loves him and I can tell

By the way she looks at him when he holds my little sister Nell

I heard her say just the other day

That if it hadn’t been for him she wouldn’t have found her way

My real old man he got killed in the war

And she knows she and seven kids couldn’t of got very far

She said she thought that she could never love again

And then there he stood with that big wide grin

He married my mother and he took us in

And now we belong to the man with that big wide grin

Think I’ll color this man father

I think I’ll color him love

Said I’m gonna color him father

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This morning, up Tinoco y Palacios…

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Inside an open door.

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At the tire repair shop, “My house is your house.”

Down Callejon de Hidalgo…

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Behind the iron gate.

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A June bug in June.

Walking anywhere in Oaxaca, there is always something to see.

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It’s a grey day and I think a little conducting Oaxaca in black and white is in order.

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Now the rain has begun to fall, which is a good thing.

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Even in Oaxaca, when it comes to peluquerias, old is new again…

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If you want to see an old, old-school Oaxaca barber shop, check out Chris’s barber.

 

 

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Today is Sunday, no alcohol can be purchased in Oaxaca, and a federal helicopter has made a pass or two over the city.   It’s election day in Oaxaca and 12 other states, plus the Mexico City.  Polls don’t close until 6:00 PM, but rumor has it, a PRI victory party is already being set up in the Plaza de la Danza.  Hmmm…

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Yesterday, on the way to dinner, we stopped to watch the take down of the newly installed sculpture of Jesús in front of Santo Domingo.  This shot seems to be a metaphor for today’s election.

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Returning home from a reconnaissance mission at Llano Park’s Friday tianguis:  Hot and humid, helicopter circling overhead, another maestros march along Juárez, I cut over to Garcia Vigil — needing to pay my Telmex bill, anyway.  I flashed on (yes, I’m a child of the sixties) this week’s WordPress photo challenge and began noticing Numbers

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And, just one more for mi amiga, Lanita…

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Can’t you just hear Moby Grape singing, 8:05 ?  Ahhh, those harmonies…  I told you I’m a child of the sixties!

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I can’t resist.  It’s another day and another night blooming cereus flower greeted the dawn.  Ready for her close-up, she insisted on a profile…

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¡Muy buenos días a todos!

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Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn’t it a pity
Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head…

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Two and a half months of 10º F above average temperatures.  This is getting ridiculous!!!

 

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Day after day, alone on the [wall]
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still…

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The Fool On The Hill
by Paul McCartney and John Lennon

Day after day, alone on the hill
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him
They can see that he’s just a fool
And he never gives an answer

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning around

Well on the way, head in a cloud
The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud
But nobody ever hears him
Or the sound he appears to make
And he never seems to notice

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning around

And nobody seems to like him
They can tell what he wants to do
And he never shows his feelings

But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning around

He never listens to them
He knows that they’re the fools
They don’t like him

The fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning around

 

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Today, Santo Domingo de Guzman served as a backdrop to the red/orange of the Flamboyán trees (aka, Delionux regia, Tabachín, Poinciana, Árbol de fuego) that line her front entrance.

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Their fiery brilliance provided a much-need antidote to the malaise brought about by two months of temperatures in the nineties (Fahrenheit) almost every single day.  I can assure you, this is NOT the norm.  However, today it’s only 86º F — as the Weather Underground forecast announced, “much cooler” than yesterday!

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Back to Havana… and the colorful and captivating Callejón de Hamel, in Barrio Cayo Hueso.  (For a more in depth and fascinating history of this neighborhood, see Neighborhood as Refuge: Community Reconstruction, Place Remaking, and Environmental Justice in the City  by Isabelle Anguelovski.)

It was our first full day and serendipity and synchronicity brought us Dayan, an enthusiastic guide with boundless energy and pride.

Without hesitation, Dayan immediately made a beeline to this alley  — the creation of self-taught artist, Salvador González Escalona.  It is a living, breathing gallery and studio, where artists were welding and painting as we stopped to watch and wonder at their creations.

The cultural character of this community cannot be separated from its religious traditions and practices — a syncretism of African religions brought by slaves and Catholicism brought by the Spanish conquerors.  Salvador Gonzáles Escalona explains, “I am talking about the religion known as Santería, which comes from the Yorubas; Palo Monte, which comes from the Congo; Abakuá, which has to do with Calabar [the Cross River Delta in Nigeria]; and maybe some manifestations of spiritism, a cultural expression of working class people, the ordinary folks in our country.”

Callejón de Hamel is also home to a vibrant musical scene.  “In this alley many years ago, in the 40’s, a cuban musical movement was born, known as ‘filin,’ songs of feeling, with our friend Angelito Díaz and his now deceased father, Tirso Díaz. There were figures such as Elena Burque, the late Moraima Secada, aunt of Jon Secada, Omara Portuondo [featured in Buena Vista Social Club], César Portillo de la Luz, and many others.” — Salvador Gonzáles

On Sundays, around noon, the street comes alive with musicians, dancers, and the sights and sounds of Cuban rumba.  Alas, around that time, we were in the midst of changing hotels.  Next time, for sure!

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Back in Oaxaca… I don’t know the story of this mural that recently appeared at the corner of Allende and Tinoco y Palacios.  However, on this Mother’s Day (in the US), it seems appropriate.

A mother’s eye is always watching…

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A week and a half ago, we were strolling Havana’s Paseo de Prado.  It was a sunny, blue-sky, already hot and humid Saturday morning.  Amid the backdrop of crumbling, but not abandoned, buildings, vendors had set up their stalls…

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and were ready to sweet talk a tourist or two into buying a tchotchke or three or four.

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Locals walked purposefully down the uncrowded promenade.

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All was tranquil, save for those gathered on one of the blocks (middle of the image below) to buy and sell properties.

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The scene and the people were a far cry and a world apart from the glitz and glamour of the Chanel fashion show staged along that same paseo yesterday.  The average monthly wage in Cuba is the equivalent of $20 (US), thus I find the spectacle of European haute couture prancing down the Prado, in the center of Havana, deeply troubling — never mind the exploitative use of stereotypes.   Here’s what local Cuban designer, Idania del Rio had to say:

“I think that catwalk is going to be more for Chanel than for Cuba. I don’t know whether the people here in Cuba are ready for this type of product.”

Nevertheless, as a fashion designer she was curious: “I want to see what $40,000 clothing looks like,” she said.

Afterwards, the 33-year-old was not entirely impressed: “It was very interesting and maybe too nostalgic. A lot of Cuban cigars, colours and hats from another era. It represented a Cuba that doesn’t interest me right now, because today’s Cuba is another, more contemporary Cuba.”

I’m glad we weren’t still there; I don’t think I could stomach the over-the-top excess versus the real need we saw around every corner.  I don’t know…  Does Cuba really want to return to it’s decadent pre-revolutionary role of being playground to the world’s wealthy?  Trickle down economics has an abysmal track record, so I’m not sure that it’s the best model for Cuba to follow

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This morning, I awoke to the familiar, if startling, sounds of cohetes (rockets).  Oh right, it’s Día de la Santa Cruz (Day of the Holy Cross).  Alas, no pilgrimage hike up Cerro Picacho for us this year; we are still in recovery from our island adventure AND, more importantly, even at 7:30 AM, it is too darn hot!  Have I mentioned Oaxaca has been experiencing 90º – 96º F temperatures for the past month?  That’s 10º F above average.  Exhausting it is and sweltering we are.

However, before the sun was directly overhead, I returned to Benito Juárez mercado hoping my coffee guy would be there.  He wasn’t, but many of the stalls had beautifully decorated alters, fragrant with the sweet scent of flor de mayo (plumeria) blossoms.

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In Mexico, it is also Día del Albañil, the feast day of the stonemason/bricklayer/builder because, according to this article (en español):

Before the Conquest, the indigenous Mesoamerican related to the cross with the cardinal directions of the Indian cosmography north, south, east, west and central graphically formed the cross.

With the arrival of the Spaniards, this evocation was eradicated and replaced by religious symbolism of the Holy Cross.

Since then the celebration of this feast with the construction of houses, churches, monasteries, and other buildings with Indian labor was established.

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However, Sebastián and Leonardo continued working on my new counter.  And, yes, there will be tile!

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