Santiago Yosondúa

We left Tlaxiaco, a small city (population 18,900), for Yosondúa, a small town (8,800), on the fourth day of our trip. Our main interest was to get out in the countryside to explore it.

We arrived by taxi at Yosondúa Natural Park, a narrow canyon with a dramatic waterfall, “La Esmeralda,” and a 140 meter (460 feet) suspension bridge right in front of the falls. We left our luggage in the park office, which is right at the falls, and got ourselves on that spectacular swinging-in-space bridge. And then: how could we NOT spend an inordinate amount of time looking at everything below and above us: the falls, bromeliad-laden “garden trees,” the Sierra del Sur, sun, the roiling rapids at the base of the falls, birds, each other. Binoculars are our great “eye extenders,” well-used as always. From the bridge, we could walk right up to the falls, which was terrifyingly good.

Walking to our cabaña on a steep and rocky dirt road, I stumbled and fell with all my weight on to my right knee, which bled and swelled to twice its size—still hurting even 24 days after the fall. Never mind, Ibuprophen rescued me to be able to keep walking through the rest of the trip.

The following day we witnessed the town’s triennial elections. Although voting isn’t mandatory, people are brought in from outlying areas by volunteer drivers of various sizes of trucks, so the total number of votes was 6500 (out of 8500). The first 11 people with the greatest number of votes filled all the town government offices, and the second 11 people with the greatest number of votes were assigned as assistants to each of the officers. (Please see the photo section for the names of the offices, as well as the winners.) The requirement for anyone to run for office was to have a record of public service to the town—with or without having been elected. The new officers have 3 months to prepare for their posts: to confer with former officers, to read the last 3 years’ records of proceedings, and to bone up on all the laws connected to their new jobs.

Of note: half of the town’s officers had to be women.

Our guide to all things Yosondúa were residents Edilberto Martínez Sánchez and his good friend Profesor Lorenzo---(Alas, I didn’t write down his last name). They were excellently informative.

We were guided to “Doña Sebas Café,” which had a long table with plastic stools, a wood fire under three comals, and Doña Sebas (short for “Sebastiana) and her daughter cooking and serving the customers. Under such communal circumstances, the talk of the town flourished day and night. Enrique and I were there several times a day to eat and listen. One man’s comment on the urge to run for office in the election: “It’s said that being elected is like marriage: you want it—oh, how you really crave and want it so much, with all your heart. And then when you get elected, oh, you want so so badly to leave—to just get out!” (He was refering to how difficult it actually was, to my understanding.) A middle-aged nurse came early for breakfast, dressed in pretty local garments and bright red low pumps. When she finished, she jumped up to help Doña Sebas to clean up the café after election day’s total overuse. Such is the town spirit of community service.

There is also no private farming property. All is communal land, parceled out to people applying to the proper town authority. It is similar to the egido system of Meso-America.

After the excitement of election day, and resting my poor knee, we went on a long afternoon hike with Edilberto up to 2400 meters (7400 feet) for splendid views of the Sierra Sur, and the valley below. And the following day was spent with Profesor Lorenzo, visiting viewpoints, and a home harboring a herd of domesticated small native deer—raised by a family to interest visitors. It wasn’t just a tourist attraction, but an opportunity for the eldest daughter Aketzali, studying wildlife biology at university in Oaxaca de Juarez, to explain the region’s biodiversity and ecology.

We returned to Tlaxiaco the next day, to attend a few hours of fiesta before returning home from our idyll to our big city home.

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