http://www.neilkatzphoto.com/projects/oaxaca
They have a lot dogs running about here, but not many Alaskan huskies on roofs.
Sorry it has taken me nearly a week to write to you all. The first half of it I spent with crushing fevers and food poisening. it took me only a day and a half to eat the wrong thing, namely a soup of turkey mole negro, a dark and complicated sauce (over 30 ingredients), popular here.
Before i start, none of the enclosed pictures are from this story because i didnt bring my freakn camera!
I went to a town of indegenous people about 30 miles outside the city and walked into a wedding, where i was promptly turned into the guest of honor. Chairs are brought out, a place at the table found, a rapid sequence of mezcal, tequila, and brandy served, and finally the offending mole.
I can not figure out in good consciuos how to turn it down without being rude. after a few bites of turkey (i have not meat in 7 years), my guide kindly takes the bird onto her plate. But i finish the sauce with relish.
Then I am whisked away to take part in playful ritual similar to the throwing of the bouqet in our weddings. The bride puts a rolled tortilla into her grooms mouth leaving it half out. Then he leans forward and she puts the other half in her mouth, an act that is like kissing. Then he bites into the tortilla and each eat their half. next the bride goes to honored couples in the family and they do the same ritual.
Ruins at Monte Alban. Bet they would have made em a bit bigger if they knew people would still be hanging about.
Well of course they call the wacky gringo over for a little fun adn me my guide get the treatment only i forget to bite, sending the tortlla to the ground and the room into fits of laughter. And its all on two video cameras. This is a town where the primary mode of transportation is a donkey cart, still they have video cameras for this moment. years from now this couple is going to say who the fuck was that guy.
Ruins at Monte Alban. They have lots of big sky here.
Not eight hours later i am asking what the fuck was in that mole. Montezuma´s storm comes on me like a plague from Egypt. If this is his revenge he can fucking have Texas back and take George Bush with him. I'll even thow in the dallas cowboy cheerleaders. Well maybe not all of them.
Three days of fever induced madness and the rest i will spare you. Still i only eat some vegetables and a few slices of bread a day, but boy do i look good. I weigh 84 pounds without my sneakers on. This is better than the coke diet and i have seen some people really succeed with that one.
Church of the holy something or other. They love Jesus here. And Jesus loves them.
Told you so. (Its time to return to the belief in Jesus)
Finally i venture outside. my eyes can no longer adjust to the light. i look like tom hanks in cast away. I stumble my way to one of the main markets here called 20 de noviembre, after the date of the mexian revolution in 1910. Old women and young women,
getting old in a hurry, line the entrance, sitting with stacks of large tortillas called tlaludas. the building holds a serpentine maze of stalls selling traditional (tipico) clothes and breads both regular and dulce (sweet). mixed amongst them is the odd cellular phone stall and leather pocket book stall. If there were any mexican jews there would probably be a corn beef stall, a quicky accounting booth, and a place to call your mother. But alas not.
El Bus. The only way to travel.
In the center are the food stalls, more spacious and better lit, a marketing mistake to be sure. Small children and old ladies sell a paltry array of avocodoes, tomatoes and celantro on fly infested blankets on the floor. The larger stalls sell cheese and meats or have a lunch counter for local fare, something sort of steamy, dark adn greasy.
Around a bend there is a long alley way reserved for meat stalls and here the problem becomes clear. Strips of meat, some in various stages of curing, turning into chorizo or perhaps meat puppets for the kids to play with, hang on thin metal rods or lay on dirty strips of paper. Flies find their garden of eden and no one is too concerned. The real issue is that oaxacans havent gotten the memo yet that meat needs refrigeration. Even if my Spanish were good enough i wouldnt tell them.
A little drunken swagger on the way home.
1 comment:
Dear Neil,
We hope all is well with you. We just looked at your pictures and we enjoyed seeing your pictures and what you're doing over there and we want to give you hugs and kisses! (Danny helped a little)
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