Love from La Crucecita, Oaxaca, Mexico. Chad and I continue to enjoy the sights, smells, and sounds of this bustling little community by the seashore.

DJ and Amber returned to Minnesota on the 18th.  We met for dinner the evening before at El Sabor de Oaxaca (The Taste of Oaxaca).  The next day Venancio and Anabel drove in from Pochutla and delivered them to the airport.  Then Venancio went back home to go to work and Anabel stayed with us.  That afternoon Chad treated her to an amazing massage (she has a cyst in her  spine which causes quite a bit of pain).  The next morning Anabel fixed us a delicious breakfast of chilaquiles and eggs.  We attempted to go to Playa Maguey, but the tour buses were lined up alongside the road as if it were a road block, so we had our cab driver turn back.  It's hard to enjoy a beach experience when you are crammed in like sardines.  Venancio and Kathia made it to town that afternoon, and it was Kathia's turn for a massage, and then it was Venancio's.  Meanwhile the rest of us had to wander around town for the next couple of hours.  We went into the church, and I noticed that people were arriving for the 7 pm service; a man was carrying a life-size doll of the Baby Jesus to be blessed by the priest, which in turn would bless his home.  This is the inside of the church in our town.

Everywhere you go here you will find shrines, some large, some tiny, to their local virgin; Guadalupe or Juquila, closer to Pochutla, including images of the virgin and candles lit to petition her for blessings. 

The following day, Monday the 20th, we took the bus to Pochutla, where Venancio and Anabel met us and drove us to Puerto Escondido, a bit over an hour up the coast.  PE is a city of about 45,000 people, and is famous for its surfing opportunities.  We checked into the hotel Villa Roca, where we had a lovely view of the ocean.  Next the four of us had lunch at Restaurante Juquilita (in honor of the virgin), where the most interesting dish was what Venancio had, leg of rabbit. 

Our hotel wasn't in the "swanky" area of Zicatela Beach, which is lined with restaurants planted in the sand just yards from the ocean and shops catering to the tourists.  We opted for the less spendy area and a mere $2.50 cab ride.  We were in a more interesting area; cobblestone street that closes to all but foot traffic at 5 pm, when upwards of fifty vendors come out to display their wares on the street.  There is lots of food to choose from, and lots and LOTS of souvenirs.  We would have enjoyed sleeping with our patio doors open to the sound of the waves if it hadn't been for the bar two doors down that played ear-splittingly loud music through the night.

The next day we walked over two miles in search of the pathway that would lead us down over 100 steps to Carizilillo Beach, closed to vehicle traffic.  We spent several hours there, swimming in the turquoise blue waters and searching for abillone sea shells.  The climb back up was much easier than down, but we opted for a taxi back to our hotel. 

That night we walked to the downtown area.  PE was built in a hilly area, so we had to walk uphill; while the streets are gently sloped, the sidewalks are more terraced, which made it difficult to negotiate for Chad.  Not only are they terraced, but inconsistently so.  Some steps are low, some are high.  Some are slopes, some are broken steps.  Many sidewalks have large holes, and all have hazards of some sort.  But the upswing are the street vendors...especially those serving such treats as deep fried churros!

The next day we visited Puerto School, or more correctly, Instituto de Lenguages, the Institute of Languages, where they also give surfing, cooking, and dancing lessons.  We are very probably going to be staying there next year for at least a month to give Chad the opportunity to study one on one with an instructor (Spanish, not surfing!). Our bungalow will accommodate both of us and has a kitchen and bathroom, and a killer view of the ocean.  We were met there by Mari, a sweet thing in charge of administration.  She, and all workers there, are incredibly helpful, and they serve people from all over the world.  One woman came from Norway to study Spanish and ended up moving to the area permanently.  One 75-year old man came from California to learn Spanish...by reading lips!  He is deaf and wanted a new challenge, and found great success there!  Chad will not be the first blind student; one previous student had some vision; but I'll bet he will be the most handsome!

That afternoon we caught the Sur bus back to Pochutla, where once again we were met by Venancio and Anabel, and went back to Juana's house for a short visit.  Then we jumped on the next Sur to La Crucecita, and then it was Hogar Dulce Hogar, Home Sweet Home.  I was surprised how much I had missed our own place after just two nights.  The original plan was to spend three nights in PE then maybe spend another two or three in Zipolite, but we had missed our routine at the condo.  We will have to go back to Zipolite another time.

The bus ride from PE to Pochutla was very disheartening.  In the last blog I talked a bit about the poverty, which was also prevalent along the way, but this time I was equally struck by the amount of litter along the highway.  I was curious about this so I did a bit of research and learned that only a small fraction of municipalities in Mexico even have any sort of organized system for collecting waste.  Hence the garbage:  people toss it along the highways because there is nothing else to do with it if they aren't able to burn it, which is also common.  In fact, in 2011 Mexico City closed its landfill, one of the world's largest, because of the greenhouse gases it emitted.  Unfortunately, they didn't have an alternate plan. After it was closed, the garbage trucks still showed up because they didn't know where else to go, and thus began the trash epidemic.  Mexico City at times floods during the rainy season because of the garbage that blocks the city's drainage system.  There is also a "not my problem" mentality here with regard to trash:  someone else can pick it up, not that anyone else does.  

Also, the people descend from people who have been oppressed by a government that discourages individual thinking and problem-solving.  In the towns that do have trash collection services, it is voluntary.  Some people have no desire to walk their bags out to the trucks when they arrive honking their horns, so they let it pile up out back for the wind or the critters to carry it away.  Empty pop bottles are tucked away in tree limbs or fence posts or just tossed out car windows.  There is no fine for littering, and if there were it wouldn't be enforced.  I am very grateful that La Crececita is relatively clean and has people who pick up trash around the main square.  In spite of what I read, I still don't understand how the site of trash can NOT bother someone at least enough to start some kind of movement.  I know it has something to do with lack of good leadership and organization, but also something else.  For lack of a better explanation, I think there is an element of a lack of pride.  America may fall short in many ways in some minds, but if you were to spend any length of time here or in any developing nation you would soon come to appreciate the leadership we have in our communities and the general pride and respect we have for our surroundings.  At least here in La Crucecita there are street cleaners, AND I was able to experience the trash collection personally this morning while on my walk.  The loud horn was coming from the trash truck and young señoritas were running out of store fronts and houses carrying bags of trash...they had to run if they wanted the trucks to stop.

Until later, with love,

Chad and Michelle