I failed to mention in the previous post that we actually had a break from surfing for 4 days... here it is...
One must sometimes push out of a current state of being, to move on to new experinces, and ways of growth. Otherwise you may end up like the peanut butter that we brought from Cali... that festered in the sun for months... that I only managed to chucked out yesterday... mouldy.
And so with this in mind, and with Papa-never go inland never ever-mike, safely back in NZ, it was time to make tracks away from the great ocean. A 6 hour drive on the other side of the road in a foreign country is quite the daunting task. But with many a miles to drive ahead of us, it was the first major trip of many. So with our adventure hats firmly pulled over our heads, we commenced the journey to Oaxaca City (pronounced wa-ha-ka for those looking at that word with a mouth twisted frown upon their faces).
Oaxaca is a city known for its passion, and solid artist community. One of the greatest Mexican painters Rufino Tamayo, originated from there and we were at some stage in the future, unbeknown to us as we drove towards this thriving place, going to be feeling the beat of his life flow through our trip...
Driving the windy roads, we watched the lush tropical jungle that has drapped over every memory of my past 8 weeks, slightly abate, and give way to the cactus that strain to make their mark on the rain soaked summer coastal land. As Lola (as the Chariot of Barrels has been finally chistaned), wound gracefully into the high lands, we had many itellectual conversations... like debating the difference between a hill* and a mountian**. Jess, being from the flat dry biscuit (otherwise known as a cracker) country, thinks a mountain is anything taller than Lola. I, who has been chillin with my swiss buddies, believes a mountain is rather tall and would not look out of place with a smattering of snow. Jake, being a male, didn´t know what he thought and swung like a monkey between moutain/hill branches.
Arriving in Oaxaca, we found ourselves at an adequate abode, a tad tired, and none the wiser of topics like hills and mountains. When I say adequate, I mean it had a bed. Key word there being a... for three... but on the bright side it was big enough that we could each spoon 1 ft apart no worries... sweet as. With places established (I got the choice of a side as I was driver. Woo!), we ventured out into the late sunday afternoon embracing the city centre. The centre, where we spent the majority of our time, has stone cobbled roads where no cars are allowed. Lining these roads are an array of eateries, art galleries, museums, weavers offerning their wears, and nooks and crannies featuring something to delight.
That first evening it was swarming with locals enjoying the fresh evening breeze under the golden early evening light. In the zucalo (city square), people gathered in large groups, watching clowns perform whilst eating toffey apples. Grandfathers showed young grandchildren how to pop colourful air filled plastic streamers into the sky. People content to be on their own, read under the light sporadically filtering through the great trees. Going to sleep that first night, the colours of the city danced through my mind. New smells, sights, and sounds awakened the exciting fresh feeling of something new...
For the next few days we wandering the streets. Art, conversations with locals, mexicans and travellers alike, new food(!) and random slights kept us occupied. On the list of things to do was visit our first set of ruins. So waking one morning, we made the adventureos drive up onto the mountain top rising above one of the three valleys that the city sits in.
Monte Albán was built by the Zapotecs and gosh did they know where to build. The ruins are situated on the top of a mountain with incredible 360 degree views. It is truely mind blowing to think about how they built those structures way back when... pretty much, in my awesome opinion, it is impossible to be done without aliens being a very prominent part of the process. I will also state now that this is my veiw for the egyptian pyrimids and other such things around the world. (oh little tid bit I learnt from my mexican friend. There is a pyrimid built by the mayans near mexico city that is the exact same dimensions as one of the great pyrimids of egypt. oooooo spoooky).
So yeah, the alien structures must have had some kind of weird influnece on me, because come the afternoon I made my first purchase of the trip... a wonderful piece of local art. It is at least 20 years old and is made by a very time consuming local process of cutting out tiny pieces of paper and then printing the remainder onto a larger piece. It is absolutely wonderful and I am very glad I have it to remind me of the time that I have spent in this wonderous country. Also, without getting too crazy on the meger budget, I had to purchase a local specialty - Oaxaca Chocolate. Gold. So anyone that loves a good hot chocolate must come over for a cup once I get back to little ol Raglan.
That evening we were having a beer with the owner of the gallery where I brought my piece. He liked us so much that he invited us along to the opening at the museum of Rufino Tamayo. So it was with a huge smile on our faces that we drunk wine and listened to the speeches of his daughter, his podégé, and the local major. It is incredible when you can´t understand what people are saying that you hear so much more, the feeling that they are conveying. And so we smiled, shook hands, and ´mucho gusta´ed with all the local artists that were friends of our new friend. As we left, the grooviest old dude you have ever seen (wearing a purple painters shirt over a red check shirt and these awesome black pants), smiled the greatest smile and as he shook my hand goodbye told me I was ´muy muy bonita´, with some of the greatest sencerity I have ever heard. Gee whizz, them old mexican fellows know how to make a girl feel special.
Following, we drunk local wine and mescal (how I sippped that shit looking back I don´t know, but it tastes like rocket fuel). We ate the best food I have had in mexico since we arrived at one of his friends restaurants, and yarned our way through the night. An eclectic mix of spanish and english twirled together in the soft evening light at our lone table in the middle of an empty restaurant well into the night...
Arriving back in Barra, it was quite surreal. It was like we had been transported into a different world for a few days. A world of absolute inspiration for the heart and mind, experienced through the passion that the people of Oaxaca emitt in their smiles, art and millions of other ways. And so as I am about to leave my home of Barra tomorrow, and I write this collection of words, about a collection of memories swirling in my mind, any feeling of sadness or apprehension is being replaced by one of pure love and antisipation.
I leave now to have my last surf in Mexico, reflect on all the amazing moments I have experienced here, and all the stories I have yet to create on my journey of life.
And that is what life is all about. The antisipation and the stories...
According to the word bible (www.dictionary.com)
*Hill:a natural elevation of the earth's surface, smaller than a mountain.
**Mountain: a natural elevation of the earth's surface rising more or less abruptly to a summit, and attaining an altitude greater than that of a hill, usually greater than 2000 ft. (610 m).
