Oaxaca thoughts

Photo of Cactus at Mitla, near Oaxaca, Mexico. Great place in the world. It's where I want to live in the wintertime. Additional photos are posted here.

I’m sitting here on my last of 19 days in November/December in this gritty city thinking about spending more time here. Elizabeth and I sat down this morning with William, our landlord and close neighbor, whom I’ve spent time with over the past weeks. His father was born and raised here and he moved to a Sicilian neighborhood of New York where, after being a taxi driver in Oaxaca, he developed a travel business that William wanted no part of.

William now finds himself married to a Oaxacan, running a Bed and Breakfast -- engaged in the very business his father wanted him to join. I was sympathetic – it’s similar to being raised in a family of builders and and trying to be a mechanical engineer.

I would like to spend a part of the year here. And so would Elizabeth. The thing is, the old part of the city is what is attractive. There is a lot of building going on in the surrounding area, adjacent to the city, and the prices of a two-bedroom house are under $50K, US. It sounds attractive to a baby boomer on the leading edge of a bubble that everyone knows is huge and no one knows where it is going or how it will be funded.

But we don’t want to move to another suburb, no matter what it is close to. Here is what we’ve found out about this city, after living and mostly walking around within a mile of so of the Zocalo.

Oaxaca is remote, much as Eugene is, from the political and cultural center of its state and its country. It’s probably more representative of its state than Eugene is, but much more separate from its country, politically, at least. It is a very corrupt city, much as Mexico City was 25 years ago when I visited there. I think Mexico City and Mexico in general has come a long way politically since PRI was defeated by Vicente Fox and PAN in the last election. We’ll see if it sticks with the elections next summer.

The corruption in Oaxaca is still so great that the execution of leftist party leaders this week appears to be unchallenged, or at least not vigorously investigated. The taxes are skimmed off by the politicians who are only out for what they can get today. There is no planning. In particular, there is no sense of what to do about a scarce water supply as the city continues to grow at an unprecedented rate. Property values, while seemingly low by US standards, have quadrupled over the past ten years. I don’t think it is going to stop any time soon. Despite the remoteness, and the threats of serious water shortage, I believe property values in the central city will continue to rise. Possibly at significant rates, much as the central areas of Eastern European cities have exploded since the wall came down.

It’s not just to make money for our kids that I would want to own something in the Oaxacan city center. It’s a way of life here that we can both engage. This culture values art. Music, dancing, and the visual arts are supported here. There are festivals, not only experienced in the churches, but offered to the public in the Zocalo on over 100 days of the year. Last night we watched kids, primary and middle school age from pueblos in the area, perform dances and share their local crop-influenced views of the world. It ended in great fireworks and bounty being tossed to the audience. This strong engagement of tradition and old-fashioned ways will not go away anytime soon, despite parents taking videos and talking on cell phones.

Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe it’s just a relief to disengage from the media of the US and simply be remote. The Zapotecs we have talked to, while perhaps a small sample size, are the most impressive people I’ve met, in engaging me as a basic, mono-lingual person. They seem to know what is going on in the world, choose to be a part of their own culture, and speak more directly to me, with better English than any European who’s second language is English, much less the third language after Spanish. (Victor, the tour guide at Monte Alban; Maria, the weaver in Teotitlan; Martin Chicon, the folksinger; Jaime and Noe, the taxi driver) There are many distinct indigenous cultures. The Zapotecs are simply the ones we came into contact with and heard speaking to their friends and family. There are apparently over 100 languages spoken in Mexico today. In Oaxaca, Spanish is taught in public schools, but not English.

Elizabeth spent time in the university library and was impressed with how vigorously these kids are pursuing the study of art and architecture. She feels that the thirst for learning among the young people she saw is well beyond the engagement of young people in our culture. Of course it could just be that they are more physically social and verbal in their pursuits than the online kids at home and we just can’t observe the thirst, curiosity, and mental engagement of our own kids. Then again, one wonders how rich the online material is, compared with a library full of luscious photos of artwork.

We visited the home of Roldolfo Morales in Ocotlan. He was well supported by his community until his death in 2001. And he returned that support by insuring that important buildings were restored and are cared for in the public interest. One of Rufino Tomayo’s paintings was sold in Paris last year for well over a million dollars. It seems to be a painting that was never shown locally. The local community wants it back. Tomayo collected some of the most significant archeological artifacts from across Mexico. He endowed a museum containing his collection. Gilberto Aceves Navarro had an opening last week. He and Francisco Toledo are some of the last of the old guard painters. Toledo is apparently working to return the architecturally and historically important Camino Real convent to public use.

The art community is strong, the politics are corrupt, and technology is being embraced. I got off the plane and my cell phone just worked. I’m sure the bill for the few times I used it will be outrageous, but it serves as an indication of the potential for and investment in connectedness of this community. While there are internet/phone places on every street, many businesses continue to use typewriters. At the market, the guy who types for anyone needing written words still bangs away on his trusty Corona.