Oaxaca

I stayed in Mexico, I stayed in oaxaca, but started on a new path. Seb returned to Canada and now Iam completly independent. For better and for worse, traveling alone brings on new challenges and opportunities. when I traveled in India, I thought that being solo made me more accessible to meating new people, especialy locals. Here such meating are even rarer because my Spanish is extremely bad. 

 yet half an hour after Seb left I made a new friend. Print artist. His name is Isvan, for those who were wondering, the name is not Mexican at all. The truth is that the original intention was to name him  Ivan like the Russian name, but  a spelling error put its signature along the way. (; Although his name is not local, Isvan is as connected to his roots as possible. He belongs to an inner Mexican ethnic group called the Sapotec. He speaks the language, and holds the title of a sapotec Philosopher, after studying at the University of Philosophy and Art. 

For the past seven years, isvan has been managing a workshop/gallery of Wood prints. I went in to have a look, and very quickly got a chair. There are always 2-3 students gathered on the table in the center of the gallery, so the place is always full. After interesting conversations, I bought a print and joined in painting it with watercolors. It was so relaxing to sit and paint that every day since then I've been in oaxaca City I came to sit at his gallery. Isvan invited me on Saturday, for an evening of mezcal paintings, and snacks. (The crunchy insects that everyone eats here were among them) 

In Spanish they are called chipolites, a cute name that does not in any way describe the small and strange product.

A friend of Isvan's who makes mezcal himself joined in. He let us taste three special flavors. I liked the marigold flower the most so we chose the bottle. This was a very strong drink that came to my head at a dizzying pace. Trying to paint while being a bit tipsy was a beautiful experience. I just drew a ceramic pitcher sitting on the side But suddenly all the shadows became so prominent I felt that I was diving in them.

 After a special evening I went the next day to a small town in the mountains called san jose de la pacifico. The small town is known for its stunning sunsets, I was lucky to arrive just in time for the sunset and got to see the perfect sight. A day after all was a blur. 

The town was an educative experience for me. When people describe something as educative, it seems to me that they actually mean very challenging. I decided with courage,  origin of which is not clear, to leave the next day for a trek in the mountains to a small town called San Mateo.  the trip was supposed to be a 2.3 hour walk from San Jose. With a deceptive Google map and bad internet connection, a trip that was supposed to take 2 and a half hours, took me 6 hours. I went up and down, I went up and down again and I was wrong and I was wrong and I was wrong. The climax was that I ran out of water and I was halfway there. I did not know what to do.

 I often say that I have more luck than intelligence. Indeed, just when I imagined myself sleeping alone and  hungry in the cold  forest, I saw two farmers harvesting corn. I turned to them with teary eyes and begged " agua porfavor " water please. Luckily I have minimal Spanish. I received water from the generous farmers, and they showed me the right way. The generosity and kindness of Mexicans never ceases to move me.

 In the end I arrived in San Mateo, a sweet town that received the title of magic town. Rightly so. It is very beautiful.

 if there is one advantage to losing the way, the advantage is to meet unique plants that only grow in remote places. On the way I photographed huge flowers, the size of my head. A combonation of a flower and a cactus, something special. 

When I tried to forget about the fact that I was lost in the forest and looked at the views I had a lot of fun. The walk was in a forest of pines and pine cones everywhere. The trees reminded me a little of the pines in Israel, but were completely different.

 I think this story explains why I consider this experience a mature experience. [Some lessons were recorded. I promise.]!

 After a hard day, I returned to the hostel for a hot shower, and hot chocolate on the balcony. I enjoy the chocolates here in oaxaca so much! He sat down next to a guest, tattooed almost all over his body with traditional paintings. He told me about his work, preparing traditional medicines that were not intended for healing but for a psychedelic journey. It was interesting to hear about the culture, symbolism and all kinds of things I had encountered here. 

For example, why are there lots of skulls everywhere. The peri-Hispanic civilizations were preoccupied with death from a very different angle than the catholics There is no concept of hell, but of life. As death lurks around every corner, the importance of enjoyment in the present life intensifies. That's why skeletons star in street paintings, markets, and tattoos. Sometimes the skeletons are naked and sometimes very well dressed. When I landed in Mexico, I was quite disgusted by all these skeletons. Over time, I came to like them. After the little trip to San Jose, I returned to my beloved city of oaxaca I went on a day trip to Mitla, a small town an hour's drive from the city that is known for its unique archaeology. I was joined by Lauren, an American I met at the hostel. Lucky she joined me, because without her I wouldn't have made it to Mitla alive. My Spanish wouldn't allow it. We had great fun together. 

We happened to arrive at a church in the center of the city, and Kinsenira was just there. The Catholic equivalent of Bat Mitzvah. At the age of 15, the birthday girl is officially accepted into the Catholic religion. The ceremony is probably extremely important, because the event was dedicated to one girl and the church was bursting with people dancing in their best clothes. I want to mention that it was Wednesday afternoon. Mid work day! 

We enjoyed the event, the music and the traditional dances. After the event, we looked for the archaeological complex and did not find it. Each time they pointed to the church and we didn't understand why. After too much time, we realized that the site is adjacent to the church. These spanish bastards built a church right on the temple of the local people. This to Show power and control. The remaining ruins have been preserved with impressive geometric decorations and with hints of the glorious empire that flourished before the Spaniards. 

Oaxaca was good to me, I didn't write about all the sweet gallery cafes I entered, the colorful markets and the pleasant encounters I had. But they were an integral part of my positive experience here. In a brave move, I bought a night travel ticket to a colorful town 11.30 hours drive from here. San Cristobal. Like Mary Poppins, I feel the spirit telling me to move on. Happy for what happened and curious about the new cityRead more