So we convinced Arianne to come with us to one of the classes we were trying out at a different community center called "IMSS", it is closer to our house. Around 5 in the afternoon we headed out and towards the center, when we got there we quickly headed into the cooking room, the one with the stove, oven and sink. Today we are planning on taking the cooking class. The maestra of the class quickly let us know that the class today was "Reposteria" which means, "Baked goods and Pastries". Besides Laina, Arianne and myself, there were three other women in the class: Maestra, the inexperienced baker, and the grey haired woman. The first thing we did was flatten the previously bought pastry dough into the tart cups, and also into the pie tins. While the maestra was cooking up the custard cream, we three took to slicing up the fruit for the filling. It was a while we were cutting up these fruit before I realized that not all the ingredients were shared by all, and that certain fruits belonged to inexperienced cook and others to the grey haired woman. So as we were cutting up the fruit we ow started separating it by whose fruit it is, which is very different to the other cooking class we are taking, where we share all the ingredients, and split the cost. Once Maestra was finished cooking the custard, she and Laina started cooking up the cheesecake, but first they mixed the ingredients in the blender. Then we baked all the tart crusts in the oven and then piled them up on the table. When we where making the tarts I forgot again that we needed to separate the different women's ingredients. So at first we were making the tarts for the grey haired women, we made ten, filled the crust with custard, topped with pretty fruit and then set to cool. Then the inexperienced cook woman started working on hers while we finished cutting the fruit. Finally the question arose, " what are we going to do with these tarts?" we asked. "Sell them, of course!", was the reply. "where are you going to sell them?" "En la calle." (on the street). How surprised we were, you should have seen Arianne's face! We are sitting here making the tarts that we see all over the side of the road in class cases for sale! We thought it was so funny, and even better if we had the opportunity to go sell the tarts with them! After the short conversation, the inexperienced cook woman gave each of us one of us a tart. They were still warm and very delicious! We topped them with kiwi, peaches, strawberries and grapes, and they looked beautiful. After a few minutes, we finished them and the grey woman returned to the room and then offered us one of her tarts, she hadn't seen that the other woman gave us each one. These tarts are are not something that you can really eat two of, they are quite big and very rich. After Arianne turned the second one down, Laina and I decided to split it. I had to smile, I was getting very full on these tarts and I am sure that these ladies should have been selling them instead of giving them to us. Then the discussion of price came up, " How much are you going to sell these for?" "10 pesos per tart." replied the maestra, and the inexperienced cook woman smiled at that, clearly excited to make some money. She then asked how much they would make if they sold all of them. Quickly counting the maestra says " 48 tarts at 10 pesos per tart..." and in over one minute of silence in highly concentrated thinking, "480 pesos." at that number the inexperienced cook woman lit up with a delightful grin.
Monte Albán is a large archaeological ruins of the Zapotec culture who lived in the valley of Oaxaca. If you look at the back of the Mexican 20 peso bill, you will see an illustration of the site. After our other cooking class on Sunday, we headed to the zocaló to meet up with a fellow couchsurfer, Travis, who we met the previous night at the theater, to head up to Monte Albán. Walking towards the tour guides section part of town, we were immediately surrounded and offered many different options to head up to the ruins. the going rate was 35 pesos($3), round-trip. However, the bus was not leaving for 45 minutes. We knew that people lived near the ruins, so therefore, there must be a bus or some kind of public transport to get us there. Once the saleswoman realized that we were not going to buy the tour, we asked where we could catch the local bus to the area. She smiled and pointed to the corner and said to look for the bus that said "Colonia Monte Albán", the name of the neighborhood closest to the ruins. After a short wait we got onto a big green bus with bench seats, paid our 4.5 peso fare, and headed up the 1,300 foot climb to the top a mountain with the ruins on top. I swear the bus driver had to turn the wheel almost 7 or 10 full rotations to make some of the hairpin switchback turns up to the neighborhood, just south of Oaxaca city. All the other riders had gotten off, and the bus was still flying up the road and making the sharp turns at high speed. We were sliding to and from on the smooth bench seats. Finally, the bus pulled into a dirt parking lot at what seemed like 1/2 way up the mountain. The driver and his friend said that the ruins were just a 30 minute walk up the road that we were just on, no sweat. From there the three of us got on the road and began our trek up the second half of the mountain. It was a beautiful day, with the sun it was quite hot, especially on the road, with no shade. Walking the opposite direction, down there were groups of indigenous families, with some of their handicraft souvenirs heading home. After about 45 minutes we made it to the top and got our tickets into the site. Monte Albán is the premiere archaeological ruins near the city of Oaxaca. Also, they are in very nice condition, since they are only about 1300-1500 years old. Entering the site you walk up some stone stairs cut into a giant hill, and then on the other side you look down onto a giant lawn, with beautiful temples, walls and stairs. On the far side of the law there is an immensely tall set of stairs, and in the middle is a square set temple. We spent much of the next four hours talking, walking and taking pictures with Travis. During out explorations, a couple asked me to take their picture. After a few pictures, and a make-out photo, I spotted their Maté gourd sitting on the ground with the typical silver thermos. I asked them if they were from Argentina, which they were, and then shared some of our travel stories with them of our time down there. They offered to share some Maté with me, and I happily accepted. The Maté was a nice flashback from Argentina and I remembered how how fond I was of the grassy, bitter, tea-like drink. We continued to walk around, talking about Cambodia, Peru, Europe, and other travel stories. Right before close, we went and checked out the indoor museum. Inside there were many immaculate stone carvings, and even some skeletons. The place closed down shortly after, so we decided to hit the road back down and catch the bus. Less the one minute on the road, a big white pickup truck passes us and I instinctively stick out my thumb, trying to catch an easy ride down. The truck slowed down and pulled over. Travis ran up, and opened the door, and guess what!? It was the Argentine couple! We told them we just needed a ride down to that dirt parking lot and we would catch the bus from there. We jumped into the bed, and set off down the mountain. Very quickly I saw that we were headed down the mountain on a different road then we walked up. Well, there goes the bus, I thought. After a little while we were flying though the city of Oaxaca, heading east. From the back of the truck, I did not really know where I was, but then I saw the A.D.O. bust station, and realized that we were very close to our house, in the north of Oaxaca. The window to the cab opened up and the Argentine yells, "where are you guys going?" At that time, we really didn't have any plans, so i asked, "Nowhere really, where are you going?" he replies, "Veracruz!" I was like "Veracruz?!, that 7 hours away, and the sun is about to set!" he said, " I live there!" We all really wanted the free ride to Veracruz on the Gulf of Mexico, but we didn't have our bags, money or our passports. Also, the ride would probably be miserable, 6 hours at night in the back of a truck. We told him we'd get off here, and have a safe ride to Veracruz. We walked into town, got some tacos, told some good stories, and then headed home.
